#the job is great for me though and really works with my hours (other than being 7pm-7am) so i never wanted to quit

[violahenshaw]

I'm so late to this party but here's what I remember from my ritual (Lyon, April 26th).

It was my third time seeing Ghost live. I saw them each time they came in my city during their two previous tours, and I always had a blast. (I would have loved to see them in 2015-2016 but I had no job and no money at the time, ha.)

Skeletá was released the day before the concert. "Even if I end up not liking it, the concert will be amazing," I thought. I admit it: the first listenings of the album were disappointing to me. (BUT I like a musician taking risks and making bold choices, always prefer that to a band always doing the same thing over and over again. So I respect a lot Tobias Forge for writing whatever he likes. Anyway I can't stop listening to Skeletá now, that must mean something. This album grows on you.)

OKAY. SO. THE CONCERT. Was amazing, of course. A thing I like going to Ghost concerts is the crowd: the fans are so nice and I always feel safe.

The setlist was a complete surprise to me, I didn't want to know it beforehand and only knew they opened the show with Peacefield. (I love this track.)

Monstrance Clock!!!! Really? I was so happy, I thought I'd never hear it live again after the Prequelle tour.

I have a big crush on Papa Perpetua. The glitter mask, damn.

The curly hair too. The jackets. The makeup. I'm sold, dammit.

I mean I KNEW the new chara design, I watched the videos, but seeing Perpetua live, it's another dimension really. I've never had a crush on any of Ghost's main characters before, but Perpetua has my heart. And my hormones. (And that's where, folks, I separate the character from the actor. Because while Perpetua has me blushing, Tobias Forge has my respect and my admiration for his intelligence, but nothing more.)

Perpetua was less talkative than the other Papas, but I guess it's because the tour had just started. He cracked some jokes however, and I was glad he did. That's my boy.

Including the "I'd fuck you one by one in the parking lot but we can't do this." I smiled. "Chiche!" I thought in French. (Which can roughly be translated as: "Dare!" or "Okay, let's!")

He was cute running from one end of the stage to the other during Umbra.

And he smiled too, I had the feeling the man behind the mask had a good time. "You're great, that's why we keep coming back to your city," Forge said. And I said Forge, because it was the moment where he let go of his character after joking, as Perpetua: "It's the first time I'm coming here, or so I'm told."

All the musicians and singers were fantastic. I so love the bat wings on their outfits.

The scenery! I love the church setting with the big Devil in the middle - call me old fashioned, I'm currently working on a thesis about Lucifer after all.

I would have loved to hear Marks of the Evil One live though, it's my favorite of the new record. But I had a good time and smiled during the whole two hours of the show. I loved it. As always, the day after I just wanted to go back. See you next time, Ghost. It's always good to see you.

I must write an OS about Perpetua. Yup.

[theultimateultimateweapon]

Bad news: I found out what's making me a completely anti-social, cranky troll-under-the-bridge gremlin and it's my working night shift

Good news: I'll be moving to evening shift soon (the most optimal shift for me!)

More bad news: It isn't for 6 more weeks at least and I have to do offsite training 2 hours away during rush hour traffic for a week

[spikeisawesome456]

.

[mayakern]

I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.

Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.

She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.

It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.

Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.

The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.

We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 

We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.

Ash

Chief Operations Officer

[detectivesvu]

Flirtatious Fate

Rafael Barba x Fem! Detective! Reader Tags: Near smut. Lots of flirting. Barba and Reader almost get caught. Sonny being a great advice giver. Word Count: 6.5k "And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

It wasn't at all uncommon for the counselor to work overtime.

Rafael more than likely worked more overtime hours than any of the attorneys in the whole building. He lived for his work, so it was no shock that it was nearly 8:00 o'clock and he was still buried in his work with no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. Most of the building had thinned out. All the people who were much better at maintaining a work-life balance had left hours ago - leaving Rafael as practically the only one left. Not that he minded, he could always work better alone.

But he didn't mind having some company. There were a few faces that he always was always welcome to and would always make time for...especially one in particular.

His attention was stolen away from his work when there was a knock on his open door, obviously indicating that someone was there to see him. Clearly, he wasn't the only one who pulled a lot of overtime hours.

He knew exactly who was at his door just by the specific sound of the knock. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did - and his heart fluttered at the knowledge of the person at his door.

Their relationship was complicated, although neither of them realized that the way they acted toward one another made things a gray area. They simply believe they were colleagues...friendly colleagues at best. Somehow, neither of them really realized that their dynamic came from a much more personal and emotional place.

Nonetheless, he was happy she was there...even though he didn't realize it.

"Come in, detective." He said, without even giving a glance up from what he was working on.

A genuine smile was on the detective's face at the sound of his invitation. She entered the room with a cup of coffee in each hand, her foot kicking the door closed behind her as she entered. She was alone in her entrance, and the fact that her partner wasn't with her let him know this wasn't a business visit.

“Counselor,” She greeted. “Do you have time for coffee and a chat?”

If there was any single person in the world who could outdrink Rafael Barba when it came to coffee - it was [Y/N]. She could drink coffee at any time of day and could put down at least four cups a day. That was one thing they shared - they worked a lot and ran on nothing much pure passion for their job and heavy amounts of caffeine.

Rafael looked at her then, curious and intrigued. He wondered where her partner was, considering she was still dressed in her work attire, which also let him know she wasn't done working for the day.

"Be my guest," He gestured to the chair opposite his desk, leaning back in his own seat knowing he was about to be distracted completely. "What brings you here?"

She approached him, handing him a hot latte that was fresh and just to his liking. As coffee connoisseurs, they had entertained plenty of coffee conversations in the past. He wasn't really at all shocked that she knew his preference in coffee. He watched her from over the rim of his cup as she sat down with her own drink, clearly very comfortable in his presence.

"Carisi is upstairs talking to someone, so I figured I'd stop by and say hello." She said casually, but the sparkle in her eye let him know she had come by for more than a quick greeting.

A small smirk appeared on his face when he caught that look in her eyes. He knew her too well. She was here for a bigger reason. They were always usually very to the point with each other. They saw no reason to waste time when she was here with a purpose.

"Is that so? You came all this way just to say 'hello' to me?" He asked, a hint of playfulness in his normally dry tone.

She shrugged, a knowing grin appearing on her face as she ran her finger absentmindedly around the lid of her cup.

"Well..." She began. "I might have something interesting to tell you."

Now this made more sense. The coffee, the late visit, the giddiness. She was here to gossip - a habit that she frequently and flat out denied that she ever took part in.

"Okay," He nodded, his smirk now turning more curious. "Don't keep me in suspense."

She set her coffee down on his desk, now sitting up completely straight as she used both her hands to talk. He knew she had something big if she was this focused.

"You know how I'm kind of friends with the secretary on the fifth floor of the precinct?" She asked, jogging his memory. "Remember how I was telling you she had been acting strange?"

Rafael's eyes darted around the room as he racked his brain. mentally sorting through hundreds, if not thousands, of conversations the two of them had shared until he placed it.

"Yeah, you said she was acting secretive or something like that." He remembered, albeit vaguely.

"Right! You know I'm not one to gossip," She said, and Rafael had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at that comment. "But she's pregnant!"

Let the records show, Rafael had never met this said secretary before. The only things he knew about her were things that [Y/N] had disclosed to him, but evidently she had shared just enough with him for him to be all in on this revelation.

"No way," He tilted his head. "How do you know?"

"She told me!" She remarked. "I really couldn't believe it. I knew something was different about her. I had to come tell you when I could because you were the only person who agreed with me that something was up."

His heart fluttered again at that. It was purely just convenience that had brought her to his office that night, but it still made him shudder to think she had reserved a conversation solely for him.

"It seems we were right then," He took another sip, his eyebrows knitting together when he realized something. "Didn't you tell me she was single?"

There was a brief silence as she only shared a certain look with him. Her silence answered his question completely.

"Ah, so that's the crux of it all," He said, figuring he might as well fully emerge himself in this gossip session. "So, I'm guessing you have information on who the father is?"

"No," She shook her head. "I'm still working on that one...but I have a few guesses."

"Let's hear them." He encouraged her.

Normally, it would've been so unusual for Rafael to engage in this kind of talk. He didn't rightly care what a stranger to him had going on in their personal life...but he didn't like them the way he liked the detective sitting pretty in front of him, genuinely enjoying conversing with him on any given day.

"The rumor on the fifth floor is that it's a cop over in narcotics..." She took a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "But that said cop has been gone for nearly six months. I don’t think the math adds up.”

Rafael considered her statement, nodding in agreement and urging her to continue.

"My other guess is a bit far-fetched, but not unreasonable," She said. "A few weeks ago she went home to Chicago to visit her family, and I remember her mentioning to me that she was thinking about paying an old flame of hers a visit..."

"Oh, that's interesting...and certainly a possibility, I suppose." He replied. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, that's all I got," She shrugged. "I am being unfair. I shouldn't be making a conversation out of her business."

Rafael chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, we all indulge in a little nosy talk here and there." He said, feeling a pang of disappointment knowing this conversation was coming to an end.

“I know, I know. That’s really all I know," She reached for her coffee cup again. "But enough about me. How are things going here?”

He chuckled when she changed the subject, noticing her eyes lingering on his. He should've known she had something else locked and loaded.

"Things here are…as expected," he said, gesturing to the stacks of files on his desk. "Too many cases, too little time." He picked up his coffee, taking a sip before continuing. "But I always manage, one way or another."

“That you do, counselor.” She grinned. “This case has been a tough one…how are you holding up?”

He leaned back in his chair, a weary smile on his face.

"You know how it is." He said, and that was all he needed to say for her to completely understand.

"That I do," She sighed. "After all these years, I've never quite mastered dealing with everything we see."

"It's not easy, that's for sure," He said. "But I must say, you've handled yourself quite well in difficult situations, detective."

“I try my best,” She shrugged. “Some days I wonder if I should've stuck with my college job."

"Which was...?" He probed.

"Bartending," She confessed. "Also a stressful job, but nothing like doing police work."

This was new information to him. He actually didn't know that about her. He chuckled, imagining her in a bar apron, wiping down tables and listening to drunken rants.

"I could see that." He teased, a playful smile on his face. "But then we would be missing out on your skills as a detective."

She gave a small laugh, but didn't respond just yet. They sat in a comfortable silence, the conversation fizzling out before a new one blossomed.

"Maybe I need a vacation." She said in a way that seemed random, but this was usually how their conversations went. They would start on one topic and then end up somewhere completely different within minutes.

He took the opportunity to tease her, something that was also very common for their interactions.

"From SVU or from me?" He joked, the playful banter coming easy between them.

"Oh, never from you, Rafael." She matched his tone, his first name sliding off her tongue like it was something she said often.

He felt a brief flash of surprise when she used his first name, but he quickly recovered and played along with the banter.

"Careful, detective. That sounds almost affectionate." He teased.

She scoffed at that, an entertained smile on her face.

"We work for the law. We hardly have time to be affectionate in any regard." She said, and it was completely true.

"Yet here we are, two busy people making time for each other." He took a sip of his coffee, then looked at her with a more serious expression. "But you're right, it's not easy to balance work and personal life. Especially in our line of work."

“I can relate. Somehow you and my co-workers are the only people I really talk to,” She spoke, her voice soft. “Not…that I mind talking to you. Who else is going to tell you the neighborhood gossip?”

He smiled, genuinely flattered that she considered him one of her few friends.

"I must admit," he said, a hint of jest in his voice. "I do enjoy hearing your neighborhood gossip. It breaks up the monotony of the legal jargon."

“I imagine it does,” She returned a smile. “Maybe eventually we’ll figure out how to balance work and personal lives. Figure out how to do something other than work.”

Clearly they often toed the line between being professional, being casual, and being flirtatious. This was their norm. Everybody who knew them wouldn't even bat an eye at this conversation between them. But what Rafael said next would've raised a few brows. He wasn't sure what made him say it. Maybe it was the late hour or the moment just felt right, but he made a remark that couldn't have been confused as anything other than personal.

"Maybe we will. It's about time we started making time for ourselves." He paused, then said with a teasing smile. "And each other."

Her gaze fixed on him, her eyes slightly squinted as she smirked at him. She wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Neither of them had ever crossed this line before. They were both aware that this was a new level of comfort with one another.

“Counselor, are you flirting with me?”

A sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he held her gaze.

"And if I was, detective?" He retorted.

“Mark me as surprised,” She said. “But flattered.”

They were both confident people...stubborn at times too. There would be no backing down from this. He chuckled, enjoying the back and forth banter. He leaned a bit closer in his chair, his smile growing wider.

"Is that so? You're not going to accuse me of being unprofessional?"

“That would make me a hypocrite. Me waltzing in here and gossiping about my coworker is unprofessional,” She leaned forward. “I consider this a flirtatious and pleasant conversation.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her words. He leaned closer as well, his voice a little lower now.

"Just a pleasant conversation, hm? You're not going to tell your other coworkers about this little chat?"

This situation was turning and it was turning fast. It had gone from casual to playful, and now they were trodding in a territory they had never ventured to before. This was different, but neither were backing down.

“Not at all, Counselor, if the thought of someone knowing bothers you so much.” She stood from her chair, eyes locked on him.

His smirk grew wider as she stood up, his eyes never leaving hers.

"It doesn't bother me at all." He assured her, rising to his feet as well. He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them. "In fact, I quite enjoy these little chats of ours."

“If we aren’t careful, we might become the precinct gossip.” She looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

He chuckled, finding the idea of being the source of gossip in the precinct strangely amusing. He took a step closer, his voice a low murmur as he spoke.

"And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

“Well, I would be getting a taste of my own medicine I suppose,” She said, realizing their noses were nearly touching. “Amongst other things.”

He let out a soft exhale, feeling his heart rate quicken at her close proximity. The air between them felt electrified.

"And those other things would be?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Whatever you suggest we do to ‘make time for each other’?” She said smoothly. “What did you have in mind?”

He chuckled, his gaze locked with hers. He reached out with a slow, tentative hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The feel of her skin under his fingers sent a shiver down his spine.

"I have plenty of ideas," he said, his voice low and filled with promise, "but we should probably discuss them somewhere more… private."

“Are you thinking private thoughts, Counselor?” She replied.

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"What do you think, detective?" His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along her jawline. The proximity was intoxicating, and he couldn’t resist the urge to toy with her a bit more.

“I’m thinking a couple of drinks over dinner,” She said, her voice supple and sultry. “Dessert at my place.”

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire at her words. He lifted his other hand, gently cupping her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. He leaned even closer, his lips grazing against her ear as he whispered.

"Sounds like a perfect plan."

“Don’t you want to know what you’ll be having for dessert?” She asked, her control getting close to wobbling.

His lips curled into a sinful smile, the double meaning behind her words and the shiver in her voice were all the invitation he needed. He moved even closer, his breath hot against her ear, his voice huskier than before.

"Show me, detective. I’m absolutely starving."

She smiled an awfully sultry grin, her teeth toying with her bottom lip as she whispered.

“You’re looking at it.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of restraint and desire, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He was losing control, his hands gripping her face a bit tighter now.

"Careful, detective. If you keep talking like that, I'll have you right now on this desk."

Fire was burning between them. Their minds were racing and hearts were pounding with the knowledge of where this was going. Neither cared to try and figure out how this was happening so fast. Neither of them needed to. They just knew something between them was mutual and it was coming out in full force.

He backed her into the desk, the backs of her thighs pressed against the edge of the desk. Her hands came to start working on getting his tie off, his hands planted high on her thighs underneath her skirt. Her lips brushed against his as her breathing became heavy, the two of them mere milliseconds from going at it when there was a knock on his office door and it creaked open.

Both Rafael and the detective froze, the moment shattered by the intrusion. Rafael took a moment to compose himself, his face flushing with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as he attempted to conceal the fact that they had been just seconds away from being intimate on his desk.

He cleared his throat and took a few steps back, allowing some space between them. They both were quick to readjust themselves, totally coming back to reality of what just almost happened. Her heart was hammering away in her chest, her cheeks tinted pink as she adjusted her skirt. The intruder was none other than her detective partner, Sonny Carisi, who was blissfully unaware that he was just barely seconds away from walking in on his partner and his squad's counselor going at it.

Sonny stepped into the office, his expression serious. However, he hadn’t yet noticed the tense atmosphere in the room or the telltale signs of intimacy that were still evident on Rafael and the detective’s faces. He approached Rafael, his eyes fixed on the district attorney.

"Counselor...we have an issue with one of the witnesses in the case. Can I have a word?"

She was trying to hold her composure, acting like she wasn’t just about to get down and dirty with the counselor. Rafael took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. The interruption had cooled the heat between them a bit, but the tension in the room was still palpable. He cleared his throat and addressed Sonny, his voice slightly strained as he tried to keep it together.

"Yeah...w-what's the issue with the witness?"

She could hardly stand to be in the room anymore. She was having a hard time processing how an innocent conversation turned so hot so quickly. Rafael had never expressed that kind of feeling with her. They had never gotten that close before. Sure, they faintly flirted, but never so outright before. She was overwhelmed, and now she felt like she needed some air.

“Sonny, you finish up here,” She said, her voice a bit shaky from the adrenaline. “I’m…I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Sonny's eyes flicked between Barba and the detective, sensing that there was more going on than he was aware of. He was puzzled by her shaky voice, and something about the tension in the room felt odd, but he didn’t have time to question it. As the detective made her way out of the room, Rafael's gaze followed her, a mixture of disappointment and concern etched on his face as she left.

Rafael had never shared that kind of moment with her. To be honest, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. Sure, he liked her and favored her, but he had never made a move on her before. But in all fairness, she had never reciprocated quite like that.

Rafael couldn’t deny that the moment with her had been explosive, a spark igniting between them that he hadn’t expected. He had always liked her, but this was a whole different level of attraction. Her response to him had triggered a deep, intense desire that he couldn’t ignore. As Sonny continued to talk, Rafael struggled to focus on the conversation, his mind going back to the moment they had shared just moments before.

He just wanted to help Sonny and get him out of his office so he could handle this. But of course, Sonny always needed to know everything.

“Is…everything alright between you and her, Counselor?”

Rafael flinched, snapped out of his thoughts by Sonny's question. He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat, trying to hide his preoccupation.

"Yeah, everything's just fine, Carisi," he said, his tone a little guarded. "Why do you ask?"

“I’ve never seen her run out like that. Especially when you’re around,” Sonny remarked.

Rafael shifted uneasily in his chair as he sat down, the observation not being lost on him. He tried to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

"I suppose she just had something to take care of. She seemed… in a hurry." He said, his words sounding unconvincing even to him.

Sonny didn’t believe him. He knew his partner, and he could tell when someone was lying. Something had happened in this office before he came in.

Rafael realized that Sonny wasn’t buying his response, and he silently cursed himself for not being more convincing. The air in the room felt heavy, and he knew he had to change the subject or risk further questioning.

"Is there anything else you needed to discuss regarding the case, Detective Carisi?" Rafael asked, trying to sound as impassive as possible.

Sonny caught the way Rafael changed the subject. He wasn’t getting anything from Rafael, so he decided to try his partner, who was downstairs waiting for him.

“No...alright…” Sonny said. “We’ll…we’ll be in touch.”

Rafael nodded, a slight look of relief on his face as Sonny seemed to accept the change in topic. As Sonny turned to leave, Rafael couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry about what might happen once he spoke to the detective.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but his mind was still buzzing from the encounter that had just taken place, and the uncertainty of what would happen next gnawed at him. Sonny wasted no time getting to the elevator, taking it to the ground floor. Sure enough, she was standing just outside on the sidewalk, her hand resting over her chest as she took slow deep breaths of the cold New York air.

She let the cold air of New York City fill her lungs, the chill helping to clear her mind. She tried to steady her rapid heartbeat, still shaken by the intensity of the moment she and Rafael had shared. The thought of what might have happened if Sonny hadn’t walked in sent a shudder down her spine. What was she thinking?

She was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn’t notice Sonny approaching until he was standing beside her.

“Sonny.” She nearly gasped, her heart lurching in surprise.

Sonny chuckled at her reaction and raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his face.

"Whoa, easy there. You almost jumped out of your skin." he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m sorry, you scared me.” She sighed. “Are you ready to go?” She gestured toward the SVU car they had taken.

Sonny nodded, and as they headed toward the car, he shot her a sideways glance, curious about what had just transpired upstairs.

He wasn’t a detective for nothing, and he could sense that there was more to the story. Something was off, especially given her demeanor and the flushed look on her face.

She slid into the passenger seat, feeling a bit less shaky now that she had a few minutes to calm down. Her mind was still reeling, but she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out anymore.

Sonny walked around the car and got behind the wheel, his gaze flickering to her every now and then. As they started driving, he decided to go for it and ask the question that had been on his mind since he walked in on his partner and the Counselor.

"So, what was that all about? You left his office looking like you’d seen a ghost." He said.

She took a subtle deep breath, trying to center herself for a round of questioning that was no doubt coming.

“It was nothing really,” She responded as coolly as possible. “I’m just tired, I think. I just needed a second to gather myself.”

Sonny gave her a skeptical look, her response only adding to his suspicion. She was obviously trying to brush it off, but he was not convinced.

"Come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday," he said, his tone laced with mild irritation. "Something happened up there."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” She said, reaching for her phone that vibrated in her pocket.

As she checked her phone, Sonny gave her a knowing look. He could sense that she was dodging the question, and it only fueled his suspicion further.

"Oh, really? Then why won’t you look me in the eye?" he asked, his voice a bit challenging now. "Who’s sending you text messages, huh? The Counselor?”

Her heart dropped, because despite the fact that Sonny’s question was a joke — he was right. She stared at the text message that had just come in from Rafael.

A sly smile crept onto Sonny's face as he spotted the change in her expression, a clear indication that he hit a sore spot.

"Bingo," he said, his tone dripping with smugness. "That’s what I thought. What did he say?"

Sonny glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. He could tell she was reading a text message, but he couldn’t see what it said.

"So, are you planning to share that text with me, or are you just going to keep me in suspense?" he said, his voice filled with playful annoyance.

She didn't even really mean to, but she read the text out loud for herself and Sonny to hear.

Call me when you can. Please.

Sonny raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little amused by the situation.

"‘Please?’" he repeated, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Sounds like the counselor is desperate to talk to you."

Sonny had her cornered, and she knew it. There was no getting anything past Sonny, especially since they worked so closely every single day.

“Sonny..." She whined, knowing he was more on to her than she realized.

Sonny chuckled at her response, thoroughly enjoying the teasing. He knew he had her now.

"Come on," he said, feigning innocence. "Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching."

“Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” She huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sonny took his eyes off the road for a moment to shoot her a sidelong glance, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Oh, please. You really think you’re discreet?" he said. "The tension between you two is so thick, a blind man could see it."

She rubbed her eyes stressfully, unsure of how to respond to Sonny, and even more unsure of how to proceed with Rafael. Seeing her stressed out, Sonny’s playful tone softened slightly. While he enjoyed teasing her, he could see that the situation was weighing on her.

"Hey, relax," he said, throwing her a gentle smile. "It’s just me, alright? You can talk to me, you know?"

“No, I can’t…” She sighed. “Not about this.”

Sonny’s smile faded slightly at her response. He could tell that whatever had happened in Rafael’s office was more serious than he initially thought. It wasn’t just some harmless flirtation between her and the district attorney. He cleared his throat and spoke with a more serious tone now.

"Why not? Come on. You and I have been friends for a long time, haven’t we? You can trust me."

“I trust you,” She said. “It’s not that, it’s just…complicated.”

Sonny furrowed his brow, his interest piqued even further. The way she said ‘complicated’ made it clear that there was more to this than he initially thought. He knew there was something she was holding back, but he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

"Complicated, huh? In what way?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with genuine curiosity.

At this point, she knew Sonny wasn’t going to let this go. Sonny could keep a secret better than anyone, so she figured she might as well give it up. She told him the story, leaving out a few graphic details, but she told him enough for him to get the picture.

Sonny listened intently as she spoke, his expression stoic as he absorbed the details of what had transpired between her and Rafael. He didn’t say a word as she recounted the encounter, his gaze steady on the road ahead of them.

When she finished her story, he was silent for a moment, considering everything that had been said. Then, he spoke up, keeping his voice neutral.

"So, let me get this straight. You and the Counselor got hot and heavy in his office, but things got interrupted, and now you don’t know what to do next?"

“That about sums it up,” She sighed again. “If we had gone all the way…I don’t even know. I don’t know where to go from here and I don’t know if I can ever work with him again…”

Sonny exhaled softly, his jaw tensing slightly. He hadn’t been expecting it to be that serious. He could sense the internal struggle she was having and understood her confusion. He knew it wasn’t easy, juggling personal feelings and professional responsibilities.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on," he said, trying to get a grip on the situation. "First of all, it didn’t go that far. Nothing…happened, right?"

“It was close,” She admitted. “But no. Sonny, Olivia will kill me if she finds out. She would flip if she found out I got cozy with the counselor…”

Sonny nodded slowly, processing her words. The fact that she was worried about Olivia’s reaction spoke volumes about how seriously she was taking this. He respected her devotion to the job, and he knew how highly her superiors thought of her.

"Okay, first of all, Olivia’s not going to ‘kill’ you. Besides, this isn’t exactly the first time a relationship has happened between coworkers."

“Yeah, but it’s different. It’s…me. You know how she is with me. I’m the youngest on the squad,” She took a deep breath. “If she knew Rafael made a move on me…”

Sonny could see the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her. He understood her concerns.

"I get that you don’t want to disappoint her," he said in a reassuring tone. "The thing is, this whole thing with Barba…you didn’t exactly pursue him, right? He’s the one who made a move. And as far as I can tell, it sounds like it was completely out of the blue for you."

“It…wasn’t really out of the blue,” She confessed. “I mean, I didn’t go in there expecting what happened but…like you said we’re pretty…flirtatious. And I didn’t push him away.”

Sonny chuckled slightly at her confirmation that she hadn’t exactly shut down whatever had been going on between her and the Counselor. He knew they’d had a spark.

“So, let me get this straight: you and Barba have been flirty with each other for a while, and eventually, things got heated in his office. Is that about right?”

Sonny nodded when she confirmed it, the situation starting to make more sense to him now.

"And now you don’t know what to do because you’re worried about your job, your relationship with Olivia, and whatever might happen next with Barba?”

“Right,” She replied. “It happened so fast…I don’t know how I got here.”

Sonny chuckled softly as he listened to her concerns.

"You got here, because you and Barba have chemistry," he said bluntly. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

“I don’t know what to do about it,” She read the text from Barba again. “How do you even move forward from something like this?”

Sonny shot her a sympathetic glance, understanding her anxiety.

"Hey, it sounds like you’re feeling a bit out of your comfort zone here, and that’s alright." He said reassuringly. "You’re usually more reserved, and this situation’s a bit more intense than you’re used to. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It could mean that something about Barba really does it for you."

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that. I guess I need to respond,” She stared at her phone. "He wants me to call him later. So he will probably reject me and tell me it was a mistake and it never should’ve happened and then things will be awkward and then I’ll have to leave SVU and then I’m back to making traffic stops-“

Sonny reached over and grabbed her arm firmly, stopping her mid-rant. He chuckled slightly at her panicked ramblings.

"Slow down there," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Take a deep breath. You're getting way ahead of yourself."

“Maybe…” A smile appeared on her face without realizing it. “I’ll just…tell him I’ll call him when I can.”

Sonny chuckled along with her, enjoying the lighter tone of the conversation. He was glad to see that his teasing had lifted her spirits, at least a little bit.

"Hey, you never know," He said with a shrug and a smirk. "Stranger things have happened. Maybe Barba’s completely smitten with you and can’t wait to see you again."

“Alright, alright…” She replied. “One step at a time. Let’s finish this workday.”

Sonny chuckled at her response, sensing her determination to get through the last couple hours of their long workday and not let the situation with Barba consume her. He nodded in agreement.

"You got it," he said, his tone back to business. "I've got your back, no matter what happens next."

___

They returned to the precinct, tying up their loose ends for the day so they could get the day finished. She tried to put Rafael in the back of her mind. She just needed to get through her shift and then go from there. She hoped she would feel better once she and Rafael talked, no matter what the outcome was.

Sonny shot a few glances at her, sensing her attempt to keep her mind off the situation with the Counselor. He knew she was struggling to focus on work when her mind was preoccupied.

As the day came to an end, Sonny casually looked down at his watch and spoke up.

"You know, we're just about done for the day. You…uh…have plans for the rest of the night?"

She gave him a look.

“I’m going to call him as soon as I leave,” She said. “If he’s still at his office, I might swing by.”

Sonny gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

"You're gonna handle this, one way or another." he said, his voice firm and steady.

“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll text you when it’s over.”

Sonny waved her goodbye, and she didn't waste any time getting out of the precinct. She dialed Rafael's number on the way out of the building.

The phone rang a few times before the familiar voice of Rafael Barba answered on the other end.

“Hey.” His tone was calm and composed.

“Counselor.” She greeted as calmly as she could.

There was a hint of surprise and relief in Rafael's voice as he recognized her on the other end of the line. He had been hoping she would call.

"I wasn’t sure if you’d call." He said plainly.

“Of course I did,” She let out a silent sigh. “Are you…still at your office?”

There was a slight pause before Rafael responded, the anticipation heavy in his voice.

"Yes," he replied. "Do you…want to come by?"

Her heart fluttered, there really was no turning back.

“Yeah, I figured I would come by so…we could talk. I can be there in 20 minutes…”

They sorted out the details before the call ended, and she knew this was going to either be a pleasant or brutal talk. She knew she might be losing one of her best friends by the end of the night. She had never felt more unsure, but she couldn't even deny that maybe she was curious to see how this developed...if it developed at all.

Her mind raced as she made her way to Rafael's office. She thought of every possible outcome in this scenario...the best case, the worst case, and everything in between. She felt the knot of anxiety in her stomach getting heavier by the minute. She laid eyes on her destination and knew it was now or ever. She needed to compose herself and pull it together. She wanted to walk out of this situation with him still an important part of her life.

The building was closed down for the night, all the offices dark and closed...except for his. It was now or never. If there was ever a moment where she felt like she was about to seal her fate...it was right now.

She took the elevator to the floor of his office, her brain actively controlling her breathing to be as calm and slow as possible. Her heart was pounding away, and she wasn't sure if it was the nerves or the knowledge of seeing him again after what had happened.

His office door was closed, but a glow of light was shining from behind the closed blinds on his windows and under the door. She gave a light knock on the door, a slow exhale escaping her as she waited for him to answer.

She heard some shuffling from behind the door, knowing he was undoubtedly trying to quickly straighten up his desk before he allowed her inside. A few seconds passed before he opened the door -- his tired eyes meeting hers with the same look of anxiety and curiosity of what was about to happen. There was no turning back now, and they both felt like they were prepared.

But little did they know, their night was about to get far more interesting than they planned for.

—

Part 2 !

[cheonstapes]

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘SUGAR BABY CHRONICLES’ ヽ(´o｀；

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x fem!reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

REQUEST from my lovely @miguelzslvtz; So I was thinking of an older!Sugar daddy Miguel x reader. The reader is working at small country club and Miguel noticed her. She’s serving him drinks, and taking care of him. He tells her she’s too good to be working there and introduced the idea of being her sugar daddy (basically some arm candy). He invites her over to his mansion for a party and she’s dressed up for him🫶🏻 all night she’s being looked at by other men and woman, he’s being very protective of her. He loves on her all night and makes sure she’s taken care of💗💗spoiled✨

cw; older!miguel, slight age gap (reader is in early 20s, miguel is in early 30s), cumming inside, slight breeding(not really, i just have a problem), sugardaddy!miguel, readers a little bit of a tsundere kinda, miguel’s really in love, cunnilings, shower sex, hair pulling, NAWT PROOFREAD!!

4k+ words (longest fic omg!!)

@cheonstapes; hi again…🤗 these hiatuses are killing me. i’ve been absolutely swamped and i lost so much motivation to write but im glad to say i think i’ve found my footing. i found myself again and i’ll work on balancing everything from now on! i apologise for the mammoth amount of time it took me to do this (this is what i get for working chronologically) and i have not forgotten about your requests if you sent one! pyramids and project ex will still be coming but i want to make sure requests are out of the way as they’ve been there for months and it’s not fair for the lovely people who’ve waited so long. thanks again! i love you all🩷

you loved your job, you really did.

not many people can say that genuinely, but when you’re getting the tips you’re getting, seeing the men you’re seeing, you definitely don’t wanna leave anytime soon. working at such an elite club meant you were among the rich of the rich — the big shots of the city that wouldn’t be caught anywhere else.

at the very least, the uniform was modest enough — obviously though, there would always be a few buttons left undone on your shirt, your skirt pulled up just that little bit higher. that window of flesh, no matter how small, was a guaranteed extra thousand in your pocket by the end of the night — and that wasn’t even counting him.

mr. o’hara. that’s all you knew him by. the man was overtly secretive, often arriving alone or occasionally with a very small group of associates. he was by far your biggest tipper. at times, you wondered if he owned the club due to the pure influence he has on your boss — somehow, much to your excitement, convincing him to bump your pay-check up by a lofty sum. the amount of money you make could send you into an early retirement, but of course you wouldn’t do that. it meant you wouldn’t get to learn more about him, and you needed to learn more about him.

summer was always the busiest, the great weather meaning there was more members than usual coming out to play. although, running around and serving for 9 hours a day was extremely tiring — gruelling even. there was sweat dripping down your face, your black dress feeling like a leather coat with the way it clung to you like second skin.

one last drink. you had one last drink to serve and then you could go on your break. double checking the table number, your eyes widened slightly as you saw him. mr. o’hara was not a small man by any means — the bulging muscles tucked away under his tight dress shirt, shoulders almost akin in length with the table. to put it simply, he was the epitome of sexy. you were barely at his table and you could smell him already, the masculine musk of his oud creating a musky, rose scented bubble that ensnared all your senses.

“‘s that for me, sweetheart?”

yes, yes it was. but he really wanted to hear you say it. your voice was such a sweet caress to his ear — he could guarantee an angel got its wings every time you spoke. miguel usually prides himself on being in control of his emotions, his body — but having a pretty, little thing like you just within his grasp was the ultimate challenge of restraint.

the man felt absolutely helpless, his heart pounding in his chest like a hormonal teenage boy when you placed the drink in front of him. “you know it, mr. o’hara — you order the same thing everyday.” fuck. the sip he was having was definitely becoming more than a sip the longer he held the cup to his mouth — chub twitching against the fabric of his slacks.

you were just the sweetest little thing — much more enthusiastic than the other girls that worked there. he might be just imagining it too, but he can feel deep in his heart that you dress up just for him. miguel knows you want him, and he’s more than happy to give himself to you.

“you know me better than i know myself, dulzura. almost like you’re keeping tabs on me, hm?”

“i mean, yeah, i kinda am. it’s my job, mr. o’hara. you’re one of our most frequent regulars, it’d be crazy if i couldn’t tell you your order ‘fore you give it to me.”

oh…yeah.

in miguel’s defence, it’s been a while….a long while since he last flirted — and having an 8-year-old daughter who’s judging your every move means there’s not a lot of time to work on your game. but he’d be damned if he lost an angel like you, he will be yours. plus, gabi does need a woman like you in her life too.

“do you enjoy it, though? your job, I mean — not keeping tabs on me.”

“you probably won’t believe this, but i actually do. the pay’s good, at least, and i can afford to pay my bills, uni, and still have fun. i’m kinda lucky, i guess.”

“you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me, nena.”

miguel knew he was probably breaking some sorta rule, flirting with staff or whatever — but god you were worth it. if being able to take you home meant that he would never set foot in the club again, then so be it.

“sorry, what was that, sir?”

“…quit your job — not in a ‘you’re bad at your job way’ — i’ll take care of you. i can give you everything, anything you want.”

you couldn’t say you were surprised, especially with the nature of your job — old men say stuff like this to you all the time. but, miguel wasn’t any old man. as much as you loved your job, had a stable income and good connections — the thought of quitting and running away with a man like him? fuck, it was so tempting.

“alright then. i hope you live up to those words, mr. o’hara.”

———————————————————————————

mr o’hara (sugardaddy?)

I’m throwing an event at work tonight, I want you to be there.

sent 16:42

(y.n)

hi, mr o’hara. i’d love to but i finish work at 7,i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it. and i don’t really have anything to wear :(

sent 16:50

mr. o’hara (sugardaddy?)

Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. I’ve already got you off work for the rest of the week, and I’ve got you something nice to wear.

sent 16:50

(y.n)

oh, really? well, i guess i’ll see you there then! ;)

sent 16:56

mr. sugardaddy

Mmhm, I can’t wait to see you, babe. And call me miguel.

sent 16:56

———————————————————————————

miguel had promptly sent his driver to pick you up in a sleek black sports car, much to the dismay of your co-workers. a beautifully wrapped box was placed on the seat beside you, a bouquet of orchids and a small note that read ‘for you, las flores más bonitas para la chica más guapa - m’

it was hard to not feel a tinge if heat was rising in your face, for someone whom you’re only just getting to know to be so utterly romantic — it was a new experience! relationships had never been something you were particularly interested in, but there was no denying the allure that someone like miguel held and only time could tell how it would all play out.

arriving at his mansion, which was nothing short of jaw dropping — the halls were mostly desolate aside from the quite bustle of the staff that were preparing for tonight’s ball. an elderly woman escorts you upstairs to the master bedroom, your eyes roaming the area as you take in the grandeur of the building — aged walls paired with a modern nueva york touch.

“where’s mr. o— miguel?” the woman turns to you, an indecipherable smile on her lips.

“mr. o’hara is just getting prepared for the ball. don’t fret over him, he’ll join you shortly.” well, it was a bit rude to invite someone over and not be there to greet them but ok! “ah, i forgot to mention,” she opens the door, stepping aside to let you in. “i left you a little something on the dresser. i believe you both’ll be needing it.” the woman winks, silently closing the door behind her — leaving you alone in the large room.

god, even the room smelt like him. a musky wood and cinnamon smell, with the faintest hint of vanilla from the candle burning by the window sill. it wasn’t everyday you were in the presence of such luxury, especially old money luxury. your eyes flitted over to the dresser the woman was referring to, that sneaky grandma.

a box of xl condoms, birth control, towels, all wrapped in a cute gift basket. “seriously? who does she think i am? i’m not fucking on the first date.” wait— was this a date? it definitely felt like one, but it was hard to be 100% sure. this was too much to deal with now, all that was left to worry about was the ball and getting ready.

on the bed behind you lay a beautifully wrapped box, with a red ribbon to top it off. it fell gracefully onto the bedsheets as you unwrapped it, lifting the lid to reveal the shimmering red dress underneath. a sleeveless satin dress, fabric lined with the finest crystals, a slit raising mid thigh, lined a sheer lace. it was the definition of classy, with a hint of seduction.

putting it on felt like a crime, something so beautifully should be preserved and put into a museum. it took all of your willpower to not tuck the dress away somewhere safe and just go and get one of your own — but alas, it was a gift, the least you could do is wear it. the craziest part was how perfect it fit. practically a glove, clinging onto every curve and crevice of your body — extenuating places you never even noticed before.

smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure it was as perfect as possible — fuck, you looked hot. the colour complimented your skin exquisitely, adding a soft glow to your complexion. in the time it took you to get ready, it seemed like the party was already amping up. you could see the surge of people from the window, flashing lights and an abundance of cars being handed to the concierges. you still had yet to see miguel and what better time to look for him than now?

there was a pair of red heels that matched the dress to a T, slipping them on and bouncing down the steps. the butterflies fluttered wildly in your tummy the nearer you got to the party, joining the line of people being checked in by security. though, from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of him. standing there in all his 6’ glory, curls lightly slicked back, wearing a tight button up shirt and those sexy slacks.

something about seeing miguel like this, so carefree and relaxed, set something off inside of you. even though you were supposed to be his guest, you did everything in your power to avoid his gaze — purely cause you don’t think you’d be able to maintain eye contact him for longer than a few minutes without jumping his bones. but of course, fate was destiny’s whore, and soon enough you were being escorted straight into the ballroom.

“were you avoiding me, cielo?”

a hand splayed across your waist, leading you deeper inside the hall as he whispered in your ear. it was obviously due to the fact that you probably couldn’t hear him all too well because to the loud music, but the way his hands caressed your sides, his lips brushing against the lobe of your ear — it felt all too intentional.

“no…i just didn’t want to cut in line. i figured i’d see you when i see you.”

“is that so?” he slid a champagne flute in your hands, grabbing one of his own as he tilted his head at you — a stray curl unfurling down his forehead. “you’re like an open book, cariño. you think i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head by now?”

“so you’ve been studying me, hm?” now it was your turn to raise a brow, tilting your head back as you took a long sip of your champagne. it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if he had been, it was kinda obvious from all the stares he’d give you and when he’d ‘enquire’ about you from your colleagues.

“mmm, studying’s a strong word. i was simply…observing you. can’t blame me for wanting to know someone as enchanting as you better.”

he had quite the mouth on him, didn’t he? you couldn’t stop the small smile that graces your lips, shaking your head in disbelief.

“you’re so stupid, miguel.”

“if falling for you is stupid, then i’m the dumbest of them all.”

it was so bad, so bad that it was actually good. and that comment shaped the rest of your night together. considering your new arrangement, he took the liberty of introducing you to his circle of friends and their wives — conveniently leaving out that he was your new sugar daddy, but that was a story for another day. miguel revelled in the looks they all gave you, seemingly forgetting they themselves had a date nestled on their arms. he really couldn’t have picked a better dress, but damn if it wasn’t killing him.

you really didn’t know how beautiful you were, and he so badly wanted to show you. the dim lighting was a blessing for the tent in his slacks, giving him a flimsy disguise for the arousal he felt at that moment. after more than a few drinks too, wandering hands and lingering words, it was becoming unbearable. however, scaring you off wasn’t on his bucket list tonight. he didn’t take this long fighting for your attention to loose you on the first date. he vowed to do everything at your pace, leaving it up to you to make the first move.

as the party wrapped up, and miguel said his goodbyes — you stood at the door, shivering from the cold air as it nipped against your bare arms. the fun you had was incomparable to any party you’ve ever been to, but you thought you may have overstayed your welcome. shakily tapping on your phone with freezing fingers, ordering an uber to pick you up —

“leaving already?”

“yeah, i had a lot of fun tonight, though.” it was a genuine smile, one that spoke a million words. “thanks for inviting me, miguel.”

for a man so big he sure did move so silently. he stood behind you, gently grasping your hand in his as she looked down on you. “when i invited you, i didn’t invite you as a mere guest — you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

it didn’t even sound like he was simply offering, miguel was begging. you could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice — urging you to stay the night, stay with him.

“miguel, are you sure? i don’t even have anything to change—“

“i’ve already organised sleepwear for you, but you could wear something of mine if you’d like?”

that sly smirk slid its way onto his face once again, rolling your eyes as you walked past him — pulling out your phone to cancel the uber. “fine, i’ll stay. i might take you up on that offer too.”

lo and behold, an array of skincare and pyjamas were set out on his bed as you entered the master bedroom once again — and to top it off, gift bags filled with designer items that you’d never thought you’d ever own. “miguel…is this all for me?”

“unless i have another sugar baby, who else would it be for? ‘course it’s for you, darling — consider it a…’welcome’ gift.”

“more like my entire tuition fee, hell. you didn’t have to spend all this money on me, y’know?”

“cariño,” you could see miguel walking up to him from the mirror in front, his arm slipping round your waist to pull you into his back. “i spend my money how i want, and i want to spend it on you. so i don’t want to hear no more complaining from you, understand.” the small nod you gave earned a small grin from him, a hand smoothing up the curve of your back until it reached the shimmering zipper under your neck.

“you look like a goddess tonight, baby. so fucking beautiful…” his words were whispered softly into your neck, gentle breaths caressing your skin. as he spoke, the zipper slid lower and lower — until your dress was held together by the tips of his fingers. the cold metal of his rings brushed against your bare skin, the tips of his fingers dancing on the curve of your waist as he lets the fabric pool at your feet.

“m-miguel, i’m sweaty from all the dancing! at least let me wash up first, or something.” if you weren’t sweating much then, you were definitely sweating buckets now. the heat radiating from you mixed with the heat simmering between the two of you made for a heady cocktail of unspoken desire — and you silently cursing yourself for almost breaking the number one rule: ‘don’t fuck on the first date.’

“we can use my shower then, it’s large enough for the both of us.” we? oh, you’re definitely breaking that rule now. “i didn’t say this was gonna be a joint effort, did i? i can wash myself, miguel.” you weren’t even convincing yourself with the breathy way you spoke, the way he was caressing you, the pure adoration in his voice was something you haven’t felt before. plus, this is the guy who’s willingly paying you to simply be around him — it’s a win-win situation.

“i know you can, baby —“ letting out a deep chuckle, miguel intertwined your hands and lead you towards the bathroom — “but it’s more fun with two, no?” the gentle pitter-patter of the waterfall shower reverberated through the silence of the room, the sound of fabric rustling followed shortly after. glancing down at your feet, miguel’s clothing was promptly discarded — your widened eyes trailing up his hefty frame.

“fucking christ…”

the man in front of you was nothing short of absolutely beautiful. despite spending everyday surrounded by older men, you never found yourself truly attracted to them until now — or maybe it was simply just miguel himself. “i thought you wanted to take a shower, muñeca?” oh, yeah, the shower. before you could even finish your thought, miguel was already occupying half of the space in there, leaving a small pocket for you to slide into.

the expeditious beating of your heart was muffled by the steady stream of water, but it was more than clear to miguel what you were feeling in that moment. the moment was strangely intimate, and dare i say innocent, for the predicament you found yourself in. his hands gently roamed your skin, barely making contact with any sensitive areas aside from fleeting brushes. he made a point to use his hands instead of a rag, claiming he could ‘clean you better than a flimsy cloth’.

it was truly getting unbearable, utterly frustrating. your subconscious and ovaries were in an intense battle of wits, when a third party made itself known in the worst way possible. you really had forgotten that miguel was as naked as you were until you felt the base of his cock slide between your ass cheeks, chest flush against his back. the slightest hitch of your already shaky breath earned another rich laugh from within him, thick fingers playing with the skin of your tummy.

“you feeling cleaner or what? i’m more than happy to keep going if you are, baby.”

of course you wanted him to keep going! you were already as wet as is, in every way possible. “i..i think you might’ve missed a spot.” the hand on your tummy paused, his breath hitting your ear as he bent down slightly. “i did? i like to consider myself very thorough, cariño — enlighten me.” you did your best to turn with the small space you had, looking up at him with a more confident expression than the one you wore previously.

“here.”

now it was miguel’s turn to be surprised, the tip of his finger brushing against your swollen clit before tapping against your slit. it had been so long since you had a real good fuck, and right now you were genuinely about to give this man some babies if he kept on smiling like that. “mm, looks like i did. forgive me for being so careless. i’ll make sure she gets extra attention.” his words trailed off as he sunk to his knees, the gentle spray of water splattering against his face.

he tapped your ass, lifting you up with one hand as he pressed you against the cool glass, legs resting on his shoulders. his pretty lashes were dusted with droplets of water as he gazed at you from between your thighs, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin as he kneaded your skin gently. his thick tongue was enough to completely spread you open, eagerly collecting your creamy essence.

miguel was moaning like a pure slut, you would think he got more pleasure in eating you out than you did. his eyes were rolled back, hips absentmindedly bucking to the rhythm of the shower as he sucked on your clit. the position was not uncomfortable by any means, but the unadulterated pleasure you were feeling made it hard to stay upright — nails raking down the expensive marble tiles as you practically grasped for straws.

“grab my hair, darling. i don’t want you to fall.”

whilst his words were slightly muffled, the undeniable concern in his voice had you moaning embarrassingly loud. miguel was clearly strong enough to hold you up all alone, so you surrendered the grip you had on the wall to rake your trembling fingers through his hair — tugging on the curly strands.

“nngh..fuck..”

he fucking whimpered. miguel o’hara, the richest and most powerful man in this city, was shamelessly whimpering between your thighs. that was certainly the biggest ego boost ever, the fact that it’s your pussy that has this huge man so drunk. pushing out your hips, you practically smothered his face — riding him mid-air as you felt the delicious sensations bubbling up inside of your stomach. breathless chants of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the panels.

“c-cumming! ugh— fuck, miguel!

the jerks of your body made miguel grip your ass tightly, licking his lips of your release as he shuffled upwards, grinning down at your disheveled form. “you’re breathtaking when you cum for me, beautiful. can’t believe you’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips, forehead to forehead as he kissed you for the first time. it felt like a million tiny fireworks going off inside of you, the previous tension in your body instantly melting away as you leaned into his touch — tongue’s pressing against each other as drooled slipped down your necks.

he kept his mouth latched onto yours as he gripped his leaking cock, dipping the pearly tip inside of your sensitive hole. his movements were unhurried, sloppily kissing you as he dipped in-and-out, in-and-out. it was a steady pace that you soon found yourself liking more than usual, a stark contrast to the inexperienced fucking’s you were getting before. “inside, please…i wanna feel you, all of you.”

you were too dangerous for this old man’s heart. having a pretty little thing like you beg for him to fuck you like you deserved, to mold that sweet cunt into the shape of his cock — it was all too tempting. he was more than willing to do anything his sweet baby asked him to, and he wasted no time in giving in to you. “shit, cielo, no one’s ever fucked you right, huh? she’s gripping onto me like a vice.”

he was right, in every sense of the word. you didn’t know how many partners he had before you, and really didn’t want to find out — but one thing was for sure, miguel knew exactly how to please you. your head fell against his chest, his hand lifting it up by your chin as he pumped into you. “tell me, dulzura, i’m the only one that’s made you feel like this? only man to fuck this perfect pussy right?”

he took the tiny nods and breathy whimpers as a yes, grinning like a madman as he revealed in the satisfaction of ruining you for anyone else — not like he was gonna let you go in the first place. his pace picked up vigorously, finding the perfect balance between pounding into your sore cunt and softly rutting against your ass. the skin where you both combined was tinged red, the on-going waterfall above unable to fully wash away the evidence of your cream on his pelvis.

“only you, miguel — no one…no one’s better than you. i’m yours, daddy.”

those words, hushed and warm, pushed his already inflated ego to the edge. his hips bucked widly, prodding at the spongy spot inside of you as she pressed his lips against yours once more. all sounds were trapped between your connected lips, muffling the choked squeal that left your lips and the guttural groan that left his as he came deep inside you. he did promise to clean you extra throughly, and what better way to do that than flushing out your canal with his cum!

he lazily rolled his hips against yours, ignoring the sticky liquid bubbling on the side of his spent cock. “did so well for me, my beautiful princess. i’m so proud of you.” the fluttering of your heart made you instinctively turn away, cheeks flaring with heat as you pouted — you really can’t believe you fucked on the first bloody date. your little tough act didn’t fool miguel, in fact it fuelled him even more. he continued to praise your very essence, worshiping the ground you walk on despite your protests — smiling softly as he sees your fierce resolve weaken. “there she is, you ready to let me love on you now?”

“yeah, yeah. but first, we need an actual shower. no fucking this time.”

“no promises.”

this was the last place you saw yourself in life, but maybe being in miguel’s arms were where you were supposed to be.

- thank you for waiting and make sure to watch ateez at coachella!!!!!

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii!I hope your doing great I saw your requests just opened and I was wondering if you would mind doing a poly emt marauders with a reader that’s in hospital and they don’t know until they’re like bringing in someone in or something and their like why didn’t you tell us and she’s like oh cause I didn’t want you to worry.Something like that if not it’s fine have a good day!!!🌊

Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Not super sure if this is accurate since I don’t think paramedics usually spend much time inside the hospital but oh well haha. Hope you have a good day too! <3

cw: hospital/emergency room, mention of broken bone

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 827 words

You’re just on your way out of A&E, feeling sore and shattered and more than a little sorry for yourself, when someone says your name. With an odd mix of relief and trepidation mingling in your chest, you turn. 

Sirius makes it to your first. He takes your face in his hands, eyes scanning it over thoroughly before starting to make their way down your body. “Baby, what’s happened?” 

“Hey,” you say, “what are you doing here?” 

“Um, no.” James gives you a funny-looking smile, amusement tangled up with worry. “It’s fairly normal for us to be here, what are you doing here?” 

“I, um—” 

“Idiots.” Remus bypasses them both, taking your injured hand gently and holding it up where your other boyfriends can see it. “What happened here, lovely?” 

“I broke my finger,” you admit. 

Sirius looks devastated, though with the splint binding your two fingers together you thought it was fairly obvious. “How?” 

“Shut it in my car door.” 

James winces and Remus tsks compassionately, turning your hand so he can see the injured digit from another angle. 

“How long have you been here?” he asks.

You shrug, not quite looking at any of them. “I had to wait a while. A few hours.” 

Remus’ look lets you know your sheepishness isn’t without good reason. “Did you drive yourself like this?” 

You nod meekly. 

“Angel!” James wraps his arms around you, tucking your head underneath his chin, and you go happily. You’ll take his mollycoddling over Remus’ reproachful stare any day. “Why didn’t you call us? I can’t believe you had to sit here all by yourself.” 

“I knew you were busy at work, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Now Sirius is glaring at you, too. You snuggle further into James’ embrace. “It wasn’t so bad.” 

“Did they have to set it?” Sirius asks. 

Your face heats. “Yeah. It was pretty weird-looking when it first happened.” 

James makes a pitiful whining sound. “Poor love.” 

“How long did they tell you it’d take to heal?” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat gentler now. He finally relinquishes your injured hand to Sirius, who starts turning it about and inspecting it in the same manner, like the doctor who splinted it for you might not have done a good enough job. 

“Six to eight weeks,” you say glumly. It already feels annoyingly constraining not being able to bend either of those fingers; you’re not sure how you’re supposed to deal with it for weeks on end. 

The boys exchange a look, and James drops the protective circle of his arms from around you. “I’m going to go find Amelia,” he says, “see if she’s on break.” 

You clutch at his shirt with your good hand. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper. 

Your boyfriend smiles, dropping a kiss on your head. “Sorry, lovie.” 

“I think we ought to feel insulted,” Sirius comments as James walks away. Remus only shrugs. 

He reaches for your face now that it’s not hidden under James’ chin, wiping frownily at something on your cheek. 

“Are you feeling alright now, dove?” he asks, and you veritably liquefy at the tenderness in his voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug one shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but it really wasn’t awful.” 

Sirius gives your wrist an admonishing little squeeze. “You have tear marks on your face,” he contradicts you softly. 

“Oh.” You run a finger under your eyes, feeling your face heat. 

Remus tuts and lets his hand rest against the side of your neck, thumb stroking at your jaw. “We’re only on shift for another hour,” he tells you. “James is finding our friend Amelia so you can stay in the break room with her until we can come back and get you, okay?” 

You shake your head, and his stare hardens but you say anyway, “I don’t need to be babysat. I can get home on my own.” 

“You shouldn’t be driving after having anesthetic.” 

You narrow your eyes. “Wouldn’t they have told me if that were the case?” 

“We don’t want you driving with a numb hand,” Sirius clarifies. When you turn your attention to him, he gives you a stern look. “You should have called us in the first place. Just let us do what we can for you now, okay?” 

You sigh in resignation just as James comes up behind you again. Seeing as no one has taken over hug duty, he wraps both arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Okay,” you tell Sirius. 

“Oh, excellent. All on the same page, are we?” James turns his head to smooch your cheek. “Knew you’d come around, angel. Amelia’s ready for you, so you can hang in the break room until we get back.” 

“Is she going to baby me too?” you joke, letting him steer you towards the hallway. 

“Probably not,” Sirius says, “but don’t you worry, sweetness. We’ll make up for that when we get you home.” 

[slttygeto]

WHISPERED PROMISES—S. SHINICHIRO

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you meet shinichiro one day when he’s working in his shop. you’re sweet, nice and there’s an obvious tension between you two. you feel like a teenager with the way he’s making you nervous, but you accept to go on a date with him. things only get better from there.

જ⁀➴ content warning: so much fluff i almost cried, fem!reader, you and shin have the biggest crush on each other, he’s so sweet and respectful, eventual smut, mentions of a breeding kink, protected sex, fingering, oral (fem! receiving), pussy whipped shinichiro, dirty talk, lots of kisses, shin has a big dick<3 

જ⁀➴word count: 7,9k (lord have mercy)

જ⁀➴note: a great thank you to @mztoman  for commissioning me again!! I got so carried with this fic, the plot was just so good!! 

COMMISSIONS ARE STILL OPEN: 1 SLOT LEFT.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

Working on weekends was Shinichiro’s least favorite thing about his job. He tried his best to make it a good experience, he really did, but he was tired from a long week of working eight hours a day (and sometimes more when there was an emergency). And so, small things got on his nerves.

His lunchbox wouldn’t open, he forgot to pack chopsticks with him, he forgot to put water in his mini-fridge, the air conditioner was barely working—good lord, he was getting so annoyed.

Ring!

Oh great, a customer visiting when he was at his wits ends. Shinichiro stands up from his crouching position next to the bike he was working on. He grabs the rug that was attached to his pants and wipes his hands. He was expecting the usual type of customers; rude, stubborn, the know-it-all who tried to explain to him his own job and how it’s done. All in all, unlikeable.

Though, he is pleasantly surprised when he finds a girl standing at the door, looking around his shop with heart eyes. You looked so lost in your thoughts, your hands gripping your hand bag so tightly (from nervousness? Shinichiro wasn’t sure). Your stance was polite, and you looked in awe at his work. Maybe working today wasn’t such a bad idea if his first customer of the day is someone like you.

He brushes off the thoughts, telling himself that you looked young—no, way too young for someone like him. Plus, he wasn’t exactly the luckiest with girls. He’s had his fair share of hookups, tried to be in relationships, but things just never worked out for him.

He rolls his shoulders as he approaches you, greeting you with a wave. He was tall, had a smile that had you feeling a little dizzy—good god, this man was attractive. Whether it be the way he carried himself, or how he wiped the dirt off his hands, you could tell that he was hardworking and truly loved his job.

“Hi, welcome to our shop.” He really hoped that his voice wouldn’t crack and embarrass him. Technically, it was his shop and he was proud of it. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest out there, but it was his pride and joy. The display of the many bikes that he owned always caught people’s attention outside and left him grinning from ear to ear.

“Hello, thank you, I didn’t think anyone was here,” you were nervous, he could tell by watching you relax and clench your hands more than once.

“Well, someone has to be here,” he jokes and for a second, he can tell you were glad that he did. His playful remark somehow made you relax, and you let out a slightly less nervous giggle (which sounded so fucking adorable).

“You’re right, my bad.” You start looking around the shop again, and the man thinks it’s time to try to get to know you a little better. How can he do that without appearing to be invading your personal space? Should he immediately ask for your name? No, that’s too bold. Maybe…Maybe taking the professional approach will work.

“Can I see your driver’s license?” Very subtle.

You don’t hesitate as you pull it out and hand it to the tall man, and you watch as his eyes scan it for a good five seconds before humming in approval.

You were indeed younger, but only four years younger than him, really fucking attractive. He thought that there is no way you were single, but then again there was no ring on your finger—should he just ask you if you were in a relationship? Nu-uh, too soon.

“Alright, and how can I help you?”

“I am here to fix my friend’s bike for her birthday,”

“Oh you have a biker friend? So you know a little about them?”

“Only the basics, I’m more of an avid fan of the races rather than a participator.” You let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. You weren’t lying, you did enjoy watching more than riding them. But only because you tried before and failed miserably, and you weren’t going to include such embarrassing detail to a handsome stranger.

“Okay, what does she need help with exactly?”

You go into detail of what had happened, and how your friend had stopped riding her motorcycle just because she was too busy saving up money for something else. And with her birthday coming up, you thought you could sneakily get a family member of hers to bring the bike to this particular shop and get it fixed right on time. Shinichiro agrees to help you, and you both settle on the price rather quickly. Now you no longer had a reason to be in the shop, but you didn’t exactly want to leave either.

“You’re not busy?”

“Not at all,” you look at the display of the many fancy motorcycles he owned, letting out a “wow” at how shiny and pretty they looked. He took good care of them.

“My name is Shinichiro, by the way.” He takes his hand out to shake yours and you accept it immediately. You try not to blush at how rough his hand felt, evidence of true hard work. Could he get any more attractive?

“Nice to meet you, Shinichiro,” you grin at the man, and feel him squeeze your hand tightly before relaxing. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but hesitated and thought ‘nevermind’. But the longer you stayed in his shop, the more obvious it was to the man that if you left the shop without his number, he would be the one to call himself a loser. No need for Benkei and Wakasa to do that for him.

“So, uh…” His lips part, his hand comes to the back of his neck and your heart picks up its pace. You could see that the tips of his ears were turning red, and his hand hadn’t let go of yours. “This is a little unprofessional of me…” He mumbles to himself. He sighs and you chuckle and at the dilemma he seems to be in, but that sound alone seems to encourage him to speak more. He wants to hear you laugh again, you seemed very comfortable with what was happening.

“Would you like to go out sometime? I’d like to know you better, you seem like a really nice girl and—“

“Absolutely.” You don’t let him go on with his little ramble, only flash him a nervous grin. The apples of your cheeks were as red as his, and it truly felt like two teenagers confessing to one another. You loved a man that made you feel like this.

“Oh?” He grins back, and his hand slides down from his nape to the back pocket of his jeans. “Great, when are you available?”

“Tomorrow, my place.” Shinichiro almost chokes on his saliva at your words. Your place? It was too early for that, not that he minded—but he wanted to be a gentleman, wait at least a few dates before even trying to get in bed with you—

Sensing that he was malfunctioning, your other hand slides on top of the hand that was holding yours and you squeeze it in reassurance.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I just thought going to a restaurant would be a waste of money—and personally, I love cooking. We can just watch a movie and hang out?” You felt like such a breath of fresh air. Somehow, feeling your skin against his made him immediately relax.

It’s not the idea of coming to your place that scared him, he just always thought you only do that after a while of dating. But here you were, suggesting that an indoor date would be better and cheaper than at a restaurant. Plus, he felt like he could get to know you better if you’re sitting on the couch together alone rather than in a place filled with people.

“I love the idea. So, tomorrow?”

“8PM, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

--

After exchanging phone numbers, you and Shinichiro practically texted almost all night. You talked about everything and nothing, almost forgetting to send him your location. Turns out, you didn’t really live that far away from his own place, nearly less than a five minute walk.

He was really nervous. He didn’t tell anyone about the date, made up some bullshit of a lie that he was going out for a few hours and his friends were already eyeing him weird. He simply wanted to take his time with you. Your chemistry seemed promising even though you’ve known each other for less than a day.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and if you were going to choose not to go out on a date with him again, he could at least keep it a secret to himself.

Since you were the one cooking tonight, Shinichiro thought it would be rude if he didn’t bring anything with him. So he got a bouquet, brought board games with him and some drinks just in case. He felt stupid for not having asked you beforehand what kind of drinks you liked, but he was almost at your place. No time for regrets.

You had also told him to dress comfortably. You were going to chill in your living room for a while, and you wanted your date to feel as natural as possible. So here he was, dressed in a white hoodie and some grey sweatpants, his hair was still slightly wet from the quick shower he took after getting off work, and he hoped that he wouldn’t catch a cold.

Arriving at your doorstep, the man was more than sure that this was your place. You had a cute doormat with the word ‘WELCOME’ written in bold, along with two huge plants on either side of it. If your doorstep felt this cozy, he could only imagine what the inside looks like.

Knock, knock, knock.

He waits approximately three seconds before he hears the sound of you running barefoot to the doorstep, a muffled “I’m coming!” accompanied with it. You handle a few locks before opening the door, greeting him with the cutest smile he’s ever seen. He doesn’t have time to look at your outfit or tell you how nice you look before you were wrapping your arms around him. You don’t squeeze too tight, but Shinichiro feels you flinch and pull away.

“Oh, sorry! I got too excited—“ you’re blushing—fuck, you’re blushing and he’s getting butterflies in his stomach like a teenager. Shinichiro has been on enough dates to know the difference between feeling nervous and having an absolute crush on his date—it was the latter with you.

“It’s okay, I like hugs,” he places the bag full of goods on the floor and pulls you in another hug, his hand caressing your back gently. He hopes you can’t hear how loud his heart is beating, because then he would be fucked.

“You smell really good,” you mumble against his chest and you feel him hum. He leans down and you can feel his nose on top of your head—this was too intimate for a first date, but neither of you minded.

“You smell like roses,” he lets you pull away from the hug, grinning from ear to ear that his words were getting you to blush this hard.

“Thank you.” So shy, so sweet--

I swear if this doesn’t work out, I’ll never date again.

“Oh how rude of me, please come on in!” You lead him all the way inside, and Shinichiro can finally take a look at your outfit. You were wearing the cutest dress that reached right above your knees, along with a pair of fuzzy socks. You looked so comfortable and adorable, he couldn’t help the smile on his lips.

“Quite the cute outfit,” his tone is playful, it makes you pause what you were doing in the kitchen to give him a playful glare yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I told you I wanted us to feel comfortable. It’s bad enough that my heart is about to explode,” so it wasn’t just him feeling nervous, cool.

“You’re also nervous?”

“Also?” now it’s your turn to sound playful and the man laughs at your antics. He takes a seat on your couch, and waits for you to join him. He looks around your apartment, and takes in how well thought everything seemed to be. From the candles sitting by the tiny coffee table, to the polaroids hanging on the wall—your place felt like a perfect representation of how you were as a person and as a friend; comforting and sweet.

“You got me my favorite drink!” Your excited voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He stares at you and the way your eyes seem to light up at a simple drink. He picked out the flavor very randomly, his thought process was ‘I hope she likes this’ and turns out, you did.

Lucky him. Everything he seemed to do or pick for you aligned perfectly with your preferences. Though, he couldn’t deny that he was eager to learn more about you; what you did for a living, what your favorite pet was, your sleeping schedule, your favorite place to eat—he needed to stop.

You approached the TV and grabbed your remote control before turning around to face him.

“Food is almost ready, wanna watch something in the mean time?” Shinichiro nods and you quickly take a seat next to him on the couch.

“So, what kind of shows are you into?”

The next half hour passes by rather quickly, and you end up not watching anything as you both chat on the couch. He helps you check in on the food when you gasp in horror, thinking that it got burned—but thank god, it didn’t. You talk about your childhood, what you did for a living and how things were going for you. If you had any friends living nearby, where you grew up. You appreciated how attentive the dark haired male sitting on your kitchen stool was, your heart skipped a beat every time he flashed you an adorable grin. You were absolutely doomed.

“How about you though, any friends or family living around you?” You ask as you start serving the pasta on the plates he helped setting on the table. He hums in response, but you think it was directed towards the food and how delicious it looked.

“I have two siblings, a brother and a sister.”

“Younger?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” he quirks an eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders.

“You give off oldest brother vibes,”

“In a good way I hope,” he teases, waiting for you to take a seat facing him.

“An amazing way, you seem very caring and selfless.” You light up the candle sitting in the middle of the table, and Shinichiro tries his best not to stare for too long when you stand up to do it. You were leaning down, the light coming from the candle made you look ten times prettier tonight.

Well, fuck me.

You catch him staring at you, the taller guy almost cooing at how you seemed to blush at his attention. A shy ‘what?’ leaves your lips and Shinichiro shakes his head in response.

“Just—you look so pretty,” he was being honest. He wasn’t trying to scare you away or seem creepy, Shinichiro was just an honest man.

“Oh please—have you seen yourself? You’re so handsome, it should be illegal!”

“Not gonna lie, I am handsome,” you stare at him in disbelief, before breaking into a laugh.

“What? My parents were very beautiful people,”

“Oh, I’m not saying otherwise. It just caught me off guard,” you giggled, grabbing your fork to eat your spaghetti.

“Plus, I look like my mom. It’s my biggest flex,” you notice how he smiles when he mentions his mom, and realize that he used the past tense when referring to his parents. Should you ask him about them or not?

“Were they nice people?” you were thankful that he caught on who you were referring to, and gave you a nod.

“The best.”

--

Dinner went on very smoothly with you two chatting here and there. There seemed to be no hole in your conversations, and when it suddenly got quiet, you’d immediately fill it with a new topic. Talking to him was just so fun.

He helps you clean the dishes (despite you saying he doesn’t have to) and you learn from standing next to him without your shoes on that he was a rather tall man. His stature was incredibly attractive even with a hoodie on, and he seemed to love dancing while washing the dishes.

“Oh did I tell you I have a niece?” you gasp at the revelation, almost dropping the board game he brought with him.

“You do? Show me!” he immediately whips out his phone and shows you the folder he has dedicated to pictures of him and his niece. He has approximately 500 pictures of her and she’s the sweetest girl ever.

She looks exactly like him, you almost think that he’s lying to you about being her uncle. You can definitely tell that she got her blond hair from her mom (you passed by a few pictures of the little girl with her parents), but she definitely looked like uncle’s favorite girl.

He tells you about her, how she brought some joy to his life a year ago when she was born. You listen to him and admire how his eyes are full of love when speaking of her—this man was the greenest flag you’ve ever met.

“I’d love for you to meet her, y’know if we see each other again,” he hesitates as he says the last sentence, but your hand is immediately wrapped around his arm before you squeeze it reassuringly.

“I would love to meet her,” even if you didn’t explicitly say it, you were hinting that you were looking forward to your next date together. Lucky Shinichiro.

The rest of the night is filled with laughter as you try all the board games he brought with him. Even when you got bored and decided to do something else, the man was down for whatever as long as it meant making you smile and giggle until your stomach was hurting. He loved how you seemed to encourage him whenever he doubted himself, he also noticed that your hand would always land on his back in reassurance when he lost (mostly to tease him, but you still loved feeling his muscular back through the fabric of his hoodie).

It was around 11:30PM when Shin finally decided it was time to head back home, and he had to fight the urge to kiss your lips when you sulked at the realization that it was time for him to leave.

“Man, that was too fast,” you complain as you both walk towards the door, and he chuckles at how whiny you suddenly got.

“Hey, it’s not like we won’t see each other again, yeah?” his hand landed on your back to reassure you the same way you did when he lost, and he noticed how you seemed to melt at his touch.

“Yeah,” you reply in a small voice, shy and suddenly too aware of your loud heartbeat.

Was he going to give you a hug? Kiss you? You were honestly hoping for a kiss, maybe a quick peck?

You were thinking too much.

“Thank you for tonight, I really had so much fun with you,” his hand rested at your shoulder, and you almost melted when he squeezed it. His hand was big and warm, you couldn’t stop thinking of how nice it would feel if you held it, kissed the skin or maybe traced the scars on it.

“I had so much fun too,” you reply, your hand instinctively wrapping itself around his wrist. Your thumb caresses the skin there, and while your heart was telling you that this was the right thing to do, your brain was scolding you for being so forward.

Shinichiro could swear that his heart was about to come out of his throat when your hand wrapped around his wrist. Your warm touch and caring nature had the man feeling dizzy, blushing once again like he’s never felt a woman’s touch before.

“Goodnight,” he pulls you towards him to hug you, grabbing both your arms to wrap them around his waist. This doesn’t necessarily catch you off guard since your brain had been screaming at you to wait for him to do something.

“Goodnight Shinichiro,” your head rests on his chest, a smile adorning your lips. You pull away from the hug a few seconds later, and wait for him to put on his shoes before opening the door for him.

“Text me when you get home,” you say in a low voice, trying not to disturb the neighbors and he nods.

“I will, bye!”

“Bye!” you wave at him, watching his back as he slowly walks away from your apartment. You close the door and stand there for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts. This was by far one of the best first dates you’ve been on. Not only was Shinichiro such a sweetheart, but you had so much fun with him. You felt like you could hang out with him forever, you couldn’t wait for your next date together—fuck, perhaps you were rushing things? Maybe he wanted to wait a couple of days before calling you again, or maybe he won’t call you at all—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Your heart stills at the sound, you almost grab your phone to call the police. But something tells you to open the door anyway, and when you do, two warm hands are grabbing your face and pulling you out of your apartment.

Shinichiro?

“What are you—“

“I wanna kiss you—can I kiss you?” he looks out of breath and his cheeks are pink. You’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he ran, or if he was flustered. But either way, your cheeks are the same color as his when you hear his request.

“Kiss me, please.”

That was all what he needed to hear before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and soft, and he kisses you so passionately that you can feel your head spinning. Your hands are balled up in fists, tightly holding onto the fabric of his hoodie to keep him closer to you. Shinichiro’s bigger frame is obvious when he kisses you, his entire form leans over you and it makes you blush even more.

Your lips move together for a few more moments before you’re both pulling away, the taller male still pressing kisses all over your face before pecking you on the lips one last time.

“Goodnight,” he says one last time, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before walking away from your apartment.

You close the door once again, and for a moment you feel like a main character in a romance drama. You lean your weight against the wall and feel your burning cheeks with your hands.

“Oh… my god,”

Shinichiro was going to be all you could think of for the next few days.

---

After your first date together, you and Shinichiro went on four more dates. Each one had a different vibe to it; at the fair, at a café, another date at your place and the most recent one was a cute lunch date at his bike shop. He fixed your friend’s bike but you also preferred being alone with him rather than outside with a crowd of people. Not that you didn’t appreciate the dates at the fair and the café, you were still feeling giddy from knowing each other, and so it felt more intimate to spend time together like this.

Shinichiro hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, and you were more than okay with it. You could tell he was waiting for the right moment to do it, it was adorable. There were times where it would get quiet between you two and you would find him staring at you so lovingly, it made your heart stutter in your chest.

He was about to come pick you up from your place very soon, and you remember him telling you to wear something comfortable which intrigued you. Where was he taking you exactly?

Soon after, you heard familiar three knocks at your door and almost jumped from the couch. You were so excited to see him, the part of your brain that usually embarrassed you for being so excited for a date was buried somewhere—this was Shinichiro, the same man who hugged and kissed you so passionately on your first date, held your hand at the fair and pecked your lips after winning a teddy bear for you. He got you food when you told him you were too tired to cook, and cleaned your kitchen despite you telling him he didn’t have to.

And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet.

You brushed off the negativity aside, trying to tell yourself that the pit in your stomach was from excitement and not disappointment. He’s been so good to you, just because he was taking too long to make things official didn’t mean he was playing you.

You hoped.

You open the door and is greeted with a good looking Shinichiro. It was dark outside, it was 9PM and so the street light made him look extra attractive.

He always looked good, but this time—wow. He was wearing a leather jacket with some jeans and a white shirt, and he had his helmet in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You tried your best not to blush at the sight of his hair slicked back, but you were so used to turning red in his presence that you just let it happen.

“Well hello there handsome,” you try to tease him, hoping that it makes your blush die down and give you a hint of confidence, but it withers away so fast when he places his helmet on the floor and pulls you into a hug. He smells so fucking good, it should be unfair.

“Hi pretty, ready for our date?” He pulls away from the hug to stare at your outfit and hums when he sees that you’re wearing shorts and a cardigan. “You look adorable.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your red cheek, and chuckles when you look down shyly.

“Thank you,”

“Still shy?” He teases, handing you the bouquet which you hold carefully.

“Shut up, it’s not my fault,” you walk back inside your place and Shinichiro waits for you by the door with his helmet. You put the bouquet of flowers in a vase and fill it with water before putting it on your table. This way, it always felt like a part of him was around you.

“It’s cute,” he flashes you a smile and you have to look away to try to calm your nerves. Making you feel this nervous should be illegal. Did he cast some spell on you?

“Anyway big boy, where are we going?” you walk out of your apartment and close the door, and when you turn around to face the taller guy, he places his helmet on your head and helps adjusting it so that it doesn’t fall off.

“I’m taking you somewhere, do you trust me?” He points at his motorcycle waiting for you both in front of your building and your lips part in awe. He was taking you for a ride on his most treasured possession?

“I do,” he sees that you’re in deep thought and squeezes your shoulder.

“Then let’s go.”

He gets on top of his bike and helps you sit behind him, and at first you hesitate on where to put your hands—until you feel him wrap your arms around his waist and tug you to press your chest on his back.

“Hold on tight, okay?” You could swear he was doing it on purpose, but you don’t think much of it when he’s suddenly speeding away from your apartment building.

It takes you ten minutes to get to your destination, with Shinichiro showing off his skills and laughing when you scream in horror when you get too close to car. You never thought that he would drive so…recklessly, but it was fun. He parks his motorcycle very close to where you were both standing, facing a small lake that you always passed by when going to work. It had pretty cherry trees, and people always took their dogs out on walks or walked with their partners here.

“I love this place,” you whisper, standing close to Shinichiro who chuckles at your words. He knows, you mentioned it before when you were having lunch together.

“I know, you always stare at it when we drive past it,”

He noticed. You almost coo at this, and stare up at the tall man through your eyelashes. Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist and he pulls you closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you pull away from the hug to rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with the same eyes that always had the man weak in the knees. His hand caresses the top of your head as he stares down at you, and it slowly slips from the top to the back of your head.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might just kiss you,” although there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, you could tell he was being serious. And who were you to deny a kiss from him?

“Kiss me, Shin,” the man doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s leaning down to kiss you. You sigh in the kiss, his hands hold your face so gently that it makes you melt into his touch.

When you both pull away, you’re glad that it was dark outside or your faces would’ve given away how flustered you were. He can still tell from your warm cheeks that you were blushing and leans down to give you a quick peck.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” This man was too much for your heart to handle. You thought he was attractive, well-mannered and a gentleman—but this really takes the cake.

You’re excited, giddy that you could finally make things official with him. You’ve been waiting for this day since your first date—and it finally happened.

“Gladly.”

You and Shinichiro were officially girlfriend and boyfriend.

---

Today, you were going to meet Shinichiro’s niece. His sister had asked him if he could babysit her and he agreed, asking her if you could tag along which she agreed to. She wanted to meet you, and you weren’t opposed to the idea. Emma seemed very sweet from the many times Shin mentioned her, and so meeting her didn’t stress you out that much.

You got to Emma and Draken’s place at 5PM, they wanted to go on a date (which was well deserved) and so asking Shinichiro to babysit her seemed like the best option since the baby was in love with him. You greet the couple with a smile, and you watch as Emma shows Shinichiro where the bottles and diapers are, and what to do in case she cried—which he knew about already. His sister was just anxious, and probably felt a little too guilty to be taking some time away from her little girl.

“Have fun!”

Now it was just you, Shin and the little girl. For a one year old, she sure had a lot of personality. And you think that she definitely got it from her uncle. She giggles at everything he does and loves to sit on his lap, but when she noticed you sitting on the couch, her eyes lit up. She was intrigued, and she rarely ever met a new person.

You weren’t a familiar face, but she didn’t cry when you asked Shin if you could hold her. She gladly let you take her in your arms and even giggled and buried her face in your chest when you flashed her a small smile. What an angel.

“Oh are you getting shy on me?” You stand up from the couch with her in your arms and walk to the kitchen to get her one of the snacks her mother had prepared for her. You held her in one arm while the free one grabbed her chair to sit her there.

Shinichiro watched the scene unfold and could feel his body tense up. Whatever it was that had him feeling this… dizzy, he needed to brush it off. You were so good with his niece, so gentle and caring—you talked to her with so much tender and his niece seemed to love you; a complete stranger she just met. You treated her like she was your own baby, changed her diaper and helped getting her to bed, you even gave her a bath and Shinichiro could only imagine what it would be like to have a baby with you.

Watching you walk around your shared apartment with a belly full of his baby, so sore and whiny. You would cuddle up against him and he would feel the baby kick, you would place his hand on your stomach and he would caress the skin lovingly. You would be so needy and horny, grinding against his thigh and he would help you—his pretty little wife, bringing you to an earth shattering orgasm—

Shit, he was getting hard.

He was so relieved when Emma and Draken came back, their daughter was fast asleep and you both were cuddling on the couch. He didn’t realize how rushed his goodbyes were until he felt you tagging at his sleeve in front of the car.

“Shin? Are you okay?” You were worried, his pretty angel so concerned for him, so unaware that the thought of breeding you was all over his mind. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he thought since you’ve already made it official and made out a couple of times, he could tell you what was on his mind.

“Can you come over?”

“To your place?” You tilt your head to the side and Shinichiro nods.

“Spend the night, I need you.”

He needs you.

You felt yourself get dizzy at his words, lips parted in shock. You weren’t taken aback by the fact that he was horny for you, but saying it out loud and sounding so…desperate, you could feel your panties getting embarrassingly wet.

“I’ll give you my hoodie, I can go to your place and get you some clothes I just—“ He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t want you to think that he only cared about his pleasure, not when he knew the night was going to be all about you.

“Shin,” you cut him off, and the man stares down at you. “I need you too, please,”

---

Once at Shinichiro’s place, you didn’t have time to take off your jacket before he was pushing you up against the wall and kissing you so feverishly. You don’t know what set him off, but you weren’t opposed to it. His hands were helping you rid yourself of your jacket before slipping behind your thighs to grip the skin.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, panting and already so out of breath.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, tap my arm, okay?”

So cute. Your response was a moan before you were kissing him again, this time trying to deepen it more than before. Shin taps your butt and asks you to jump, and when you do he wraps your legs around his waist and starts heading towards his bedroom. He kisses you like he means it, and unlike other kisses you’ve shared before, this one has a hint of lust to it—it tastes different; needy, demanding, and you melt into it like butter.

You expect his room to be a little messy, but you’re pleasantly surprised when you see how tidy it is. It smelled of sandalwood and his perfume, bed neatly made. He throws you on top of it like you weigh nothing, and is immediately on top of you after stripping himself of his own jacket. He gets back to kissing you, this time you’re aware of what’s pressing against your thigh and you don’t mind at all—instead, you’re pushing him away from you to sit up on your elbows.

“Are you—“

“Shut up and help me take off my shirt,” Shin’s lips are sealed shut at your words, then he’s doing as told. He helps you take off your shirt and grunts at the sight of you in your bra. Your tits looked gorgeous. He leans down and presses a kiss to the skin below your collarbone, hands sliding up to your shorts to pull them down in on fast movement and you squeal.

“Shin!”

“You don’t mind me getting a little taste first, right?” A blush spreads across your cheeks but you shake your head almost frantically at his words. You wiggle yourself out of your shorts, giving him a little show by letting them hang to your ankle for a moment before throwing them somewhere in his room. You giggle when he leans in and presses a kiss to your calf, but it turns into a moan when he licks all the way up to your inner thigh.

“You wanna tease me, is that it?” His mouth leaves wet kisses all over your inner thighs, before finally getting to your panties. He is shameless as he takes a whiff of your arousal through the damp fabric, and you almost kick him away because of how embarrassing it looks.

“You smell—fucking heavenly, “ he practically moans out the last part, and it makes a shy sound erupt from the back of your throat, looking away from him. But he’s having none of that—not tonight. He wanted you to look him dead in the eyes as he fucked every thought out of your head, wanted to feel you clamp around his dick as he brought you to a mind spinning orgasm.

You gasp when you feel him remove your panties in one swift motion, not even stuttering and hesitating as he balls them up and puts them in his pocket. You couldn’t even ask him what he was going to do with them before he was leaning down and spreading your pussy lips with a breathy moan. He looked so gone and he hasn’t even touched you yet, the sight of him looking so in love with your pussy made your clit throb—which made him audibly grunt.

“You’re a treat,” you don’t respond verbally—you can’t since he immediately wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You inhale sharply at the contact, back arching and jaw going slack when he proceeds to pull away and flatten his tongue on the sensitive bud. Your eyes are rolled to the back of your head when he repeats the same movements—sucks, pulls away, kisses and then licks. It seems like a simple formula, and you can feel yourself getting louder and wetter but you have no care in the world. He’s eating you out so good, he’s showing no signs of stopping and you don’t want him to. Plus, whatever turned him on tonight must’ve made him feral if he was all over you like a mad man.

“Shin—oh fuck, oh baby,” you’re out of breath, your hands are flailing around trying to find where to grip. Until you feel the man between your legs grab your hand and placed them on top of his head. He wanted you to pull his hair, Jesus fuck.

You don’t have time to think properly, not that you can. You’re pulling at Shinichiro’s hair, hips bucking and stuttering with every strong lick on your clit. Your body is arching off the bed, and you sit up with a huff. Shinichiro can tell you’re about to cum when he pushed your body back down and slides in two fingers at a time. He looks up and has to hold himself back from cumming in his pants when he sees the blissed out look on your face—glossy eyes, bruised lips and red cheeks. You were a sight to see.

He helps you reach your orgasm with fast thrusts of his fingers, kissing the inner of your thigh and humming quietly about how well you were doing for him, how you were going to take his dick like a champ, how he can’t wait to stuff your cunt full of him and—

“Fuck!” You cry out, your body stuttering and shuddering as you finally get to cum. You ride out your orgasm by grinding your hips to the same rhythm as Shinichiro’s thrusts, and you whine at him when you can feel him kiss your clit, praising you for doing so well for him.

“My pretty girl, my gorgeous girl—you did so well,” he whispers and kisses your stomach, and you look down at him with lustful eyes and a fucked out expression, which he chuckles at.

Your eyes follow his every move as he gets up from between your legs and walks to his nightstand. He opens a drawer and grabs a condom, and you almost whine at him for that.

“Ah, baby. We gotta be careful,” he soothes you with a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing circles on the skin before traveling down to your lips. He feels like a mad man when you open your mouth and take his thumb in, swirling your tongue around before gently biting it. What a fucking tease.

“Next time, you can do that to my cock, yeah?” He whispers to you and you nod, but your eyes are wide and blown out with lust as you stare down at the visible bulge in his pants. He chuckles at your stare, and gives you a little show as he takes off his shirt—flaunting the body that he has even if it wasn’t the fittest, he was proud of it.

Then he’s wiggling out of his pants, and grins when you reach your hand towards his boxers to palm his hard-on. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I said next time, hm?”

You don’t have time to pout about it before he’s taking off his boxers—and holy shit. He had your mouth watering, but your heart stutters and jumps in your chest at the thought of such a heavy cock inside of you. Shin watches as your expression changes and he chuckles, his cheeks reddening a little. For a man who was so full of confidence a few moments ago, seeing you look so in love with his cock made him feel a little proud.

“Next time when you go on the pill, I’ll fill you up so good,” he rips the condom with his mouth and swiftly places it on his dick, he watches as you eagerly spread your legs to welcome him between them and you nod at his words, even though you’re mainly focused on his cock.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” he lines up the tip with your entrance and you nod desperately, feeling yourself get even more turned on. “You’d like me to cum inside you, watch it leak out of you when we go for rounds?”

You’re a moaning mess by the time he slips it inside. You cling to his shoulders, face scrunched up in pleasure when you’re able to feel the sheer size of him inside you. Holy shit.

“Yeah baby, you won’t even have to work for it,” he adds, sounding out of breath. He pushes your legs up and shamelessly stares at how you’re taking his dick—your pussy swallows him back every time he tries to pull out, almost begs him to keep fucking you.

“Gonna give my pretty girl exactly what she wants—shit, gonna fuck her full of my cum,” your tummy is alive with butterflies at his words, and you stare up at the man who looks so focused on your pussy. Feeling your stare, Shinichiro locks eyes with you and chuckles. He’s all sweaty and fucked out himself, and the smile he flashes you when he starts to drill his cock into you is devilish.

He knew what he was doing, and you weren’t complaining about it. Your body feels on fire with every drive of is hips, fingernails digging into the skin of his back when he reaches that one spongy spot in your walls—you squeal, hands traveling down almost to push his hips away and that’s when he knows he found it and fuck—he starts to bully it.

You’re a sobbing mess, begging for absolutely nothing in particular but you keep chanting ‘please, please, please’ repeatedly, and Shincihiro has to lean down and kiss you. He soothes you with his lips, a heavy contrast to his mean thrusts. He’s fucking every thought out of your brain, and by the time you’re even able to come up with a coherent sentence, he pushes a single leg up on his shoulders—and your entire body seizes up.

You’re cumming hard around him, your jaw has gone slack and Shinichiro doesn’t stop. The bed shakes with every harsh thrust, and by the time you’re able to breathe again, you’re letting out a small scream at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Atta girl—fuuuuck, gonna make me cum,” he whines out the last part, his hands pinning your hips down to the mattress. You cry out from overstimulation, your pussy aching for him to slow down.

“Just a bit more baby, just a little—“ It only takes a few strokes for him to empty himself in the condom, reaching down to rest his forehead on your shoulder. You’re both a sweaty, panting mess, clinging onto each other as though you were one another’s life line. And even through heavy breaths, you kiss Shinichiro’s cheek, giggling when you see him smile.

“Are you okay?” He kisses your shoulder lovingly, letting his lips travel up to your neck where he feels you hum. You look down at him, letting your fingers brush the sweaty strands out of his face.

“Never been better,” Shinichiro grins at this, and he fixes himself until he’s able to kiss you properly on the lips. He makes it short and sweet, trying his best not to get carried away again because he knew you were definitely sore.

“Come on, you gotta get up and pee, darling.”

“And shower… I feel so sticky,” you make a face at the word sticky and the man above you chuckles at this.

“I like you like this, you smell like me.”

“Shin!”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[iwantdrpepper222]

rhapsodic

nam-gyu x reader

summary: bad first experience doing drugs

req: no one, i literally just started this account lmfao

note - firstly, i am so sorry if this fic seems to be long, i usually get carried away when i write and forget not everyone wants to read an 100k letter novel. second, this is a personal AU of mine where nam-gyu and reader are dating but they are not in the games.. i might write a different fic where they are in the games or something :p also.. guys.. ik i said this would be out on friday but things happen, i got all caught up in stuff,yknow... my apologies.

also this just a tad bit cringe. excuse me, i haven't wrote in some time.

tags: mention of drugs, alcohol, throwing up because of substance use, dead dove-ish??? a bit angst-sty but also fluff, im not sure how to do tags uhhhh

also, i did happen to be listening to cigarettes after sex while writing this so this is just a tad inspired by their song "cry". (also somewhat inspired by A$AP rocky?idk) enjoy!!

you had never supported your boyfriends decision to do drugs. in fact, you constantly tried to discourage him from it and convince him to get sober. he would always respond with,

"okay, i'll try."

but you knew it was a lie. he wasn't trying for shit. it made you begin to speculate that nam-gyu had cared more for a high than his relationship with you.

you had never liked nam-gyu's job either. you thought that it made him indulge further into his harmful addictions and habits. of course, that came with being a club promoter, but there were other jobs out there that could get him just as much money as he made now.

everytime you commented on this he simply just snickered and said you "were in his business too often." "what a caring and loving boyfriend you are." you would reply, and it would always end in a harsh argument.

you don't know how you put up with the treatment you got from him, you don't know how anyone would.

one night, nam-gyu had invited you to come to the club he worked at with him. he egged you on by saying things like,

"oh it'll be fun though" and also remarks stating "you wouldn't want to embarrass your boy, showing up with no girl you know."

you couldn't help but fall victim to his guilt tripping and agree. at least it gave you an excuse to doll up and wear a dress for once, right? you never got the chances to do those things like a normal girl your age would. (20-25) you were always working attempting to provide for not only yourself and also your boyfriend. it didn't make it any easier that you were in a TON of debt.

whatever, this night could give you a chance to debrief and thats all that matters. as long as one of nam-gyu's annoying, bastard friends don't come up and bother you, you should be fine. (hehe foreshadowing)

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it took you a few hours to get ready that night which very obviously stressed out nam-gyu. he has a thing for worrying he wouldn't get to places on time. the wait was worth it though when he had saw the beautiful black dress you decided you would wear. it highlighted the curves of your body perfectly. the dress was about mid-length and came strapless at the top. inevitably, you felt a bit insecure. you were so used to wearing hoodies, sweatpants, baggy t-shirts and the occasional shorts that it felt almost wrong to be wearing something as pretty as this.

"what? is something wrong?" you spoke up as you noticed nam-gyu staring at you. it made your heart flutter with the way his eyes softened up and the tinge of blush that you could now see on his cheeks. he looked how he looked on the day he first asked you out.

"no.. nothings wrong. you just look.. you look really good babe."

you blushed intensely at his comment. it made you glad that he actually liked what you wore. i mean, it wasn't like you needed his validation but it sure as hell felt great when you were able to get it.

you two then began to walk out of the door and on your way after exchanging compliments and giving each other a kiss on the cheek.

well, the drive to the club was... just a little bit awkward.. in your opinion at least. you kept noticing the desirable gazes nam-gyu gave you and how he slid his hand up and down your thigh. you being in the passenger seat was his favorite thing. this was because he had easy access to touch you.

this wasn't surprising at all. you knew very well that nam-gyu's love language was physical touch and you actually sort of loved that about him. the way he was so clingy and touchy made you feel special. before you met him you were depraved of that.

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entering the club made you nervous as all hell. you never liked being around large crowds of people and nam-gyu knew that.

he smiled as he hugged your waist behind you, like he was trying to let everyone at the club know, "hey this is my girlfriend!!"

this quickly changed though when he saw his friend thanos. thanos stuck out from most of the crowd with his purple hair and multi colored nails. he was an upcoming rapper and was getting fairly popular.

"whatts up my boy nam-su!!" he greeted. 'nam-su? thats not his name. you questioned in your head trying not to pay much attention.

"is this your girlfriend you brought with you?" thanos asked. nam-gyu nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"yep, her name is Y/N."

"hello Y/N, you look very good tonight." thanks spoke approaching you. you only backed up closer to nam-gyu, which made him chuckle.

"well.. if you guys don't mind, come to the room i have set up for us. its a bit private, yknow?"

"alright. cmon Y/N." nam-gyu gestured, pulling on your hand as thanos led them to a room a bit closed off from the rest of the club. when you entered you saw two girls and a random boy. you knew none of these people which filled your body with anxiety.

"sit down guys," thanos said as he sat down on a chair next to the two ladies.

you and nam-gyu ended up on a couch together.

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time skip and it has now been a hour or so since you two arrived at the club. seeing all these new people around you made you nervous. the only support you had in this moment was nam-gyu and it didn't seem like he was paying much attention to you anyways. he just lousily hung his arm around your shoulder. another bead of sweat rolled down your face as you looked at the bag of pills that laid on the glass table in front of you. 'it's not for me.. you repeated in your head. something in your gut told you should leave before something you regret happens. you watched as nam-gyu continuously sipped on his glass of alcohol and slipped various pills in his mouth. you hated everything about this. suddenly, you then hear a low but smooth voice speak. it was that purple haired guy again.

"so Y/N, what do you prefer? ecstasy or snow?" this startled you. was he asking what drug you preferred? ...none?!

you looked up to nam-gyu for an answer or at least a little bit of guidance but instead of helping you he just grinned. his eyes had a bit of red on the whites and you watched as he slipped another blue tablet in his mouth and this is how you knew he was out of it.

"none." you mumbled, refusing to look him in the eye.

"nam-gyu, is this true? your girl doesn't do anything?" girl? really?

"cmon thanos.. she does.. she just doesn't wanna admit it alright?" your boyfriends speech slurred. it was the mix of the alcohol and random drug he took earlier really kicking in. you mean, he always rode out his highs nicely, he never acted too stupid, but you guessed he took one too many this night.

"so she wouldn't mind taking a few lines or so?" 'thanos' questioned, tilting his head.

you started to loose your mind. why was nam-gyu straight up lying about you? you had never done a drug in your life.

"no.. no she wouldn't," he began. "cmon baby, the lines right there." nam-gyu said pointing at the table. in front of you there were 3 messy white lines of what you could only assume was cocaine. you stared at him helplessly, almost like you were screaming at him to leave this place.

"what are you waiting for Y/N? we didn't do anything to it." thanos added, breaking the silence between you and nam-gyu. you began to think about what he said earlier at the house, how he didn't want to embarrass himself with (or even without you. if you didn't snort up these lines, you would be proving to his friend that nam-gyu lied. would you really sacrifice your dignity for nam-gyu though?

he gave you that lovely dovey sweet look he had on his face when he was high and that immediately made you break eye-contact with him. it swooned you a bit too much.

you finally decided to reply to thanos, and also make your decision on what you were about to do. "i.. i know you didn't."

you then began to slowly get off the couch and from nam-gyu's grasp, sitting down on the floor with the lines in front of you. you had no idea how you could do this. you only ever watched nam-gyu do it, and it always made you so mad. so mad you couldn't even focus on the motions nam-gyu made when he snorted that stuff up.

taking one last deep breath you lowered your nose down to the table and tried all your best to snort it up. it stung and left you sneezing and coughing when you were done. when you looked over to ur side to see nam-gyu's face and reaction to what you had just done he was just smirking cynically. thanos and the two other girls sitting next to him on other hand were just laughing and giggling, this made you feel tiny. you had always hated it when people were laughing in your face.

you couldn't do anything about it so you just rolled your eyes.

"go on, do one more." the purple haired freak spoke up. you just looked down. you weren't sure if you were able to do another one or not.

'don't embarrass nam-gyu..' you repeated in your head. this was the only reason you were betraying yourself, because you didn't want nam-gyu to look like a fool in front of his "friends." so, you took another line.

when you finished you were ashamed of yourself. you couldn't believe you had just done a hard drug just for the sake of a boy.

"do you need a drink to wash that down?" nam-gyu finally spoke. happy to hear his voice you quickly agreed and got up to sit on the couch near him again. when he asked you if you wanted a drink you didn't know it would be alcohol though. this worried you. you didn't think you could stomach both alcohol and drugs... and you were right.

nam-gyu had handed you his half empty cup of svedka vodka waiting for you to take it from his hands. you shook, cursing yourself mentally.

you quickly gulped most of the vodka down, it felt hot down your throat and tasted like hand sanitizer. you weren't a big fan of this stuff.

when you finished drinking you found nam-gyu rubbing your back comfortingly. no matter how mad you were at him you always melted at his touch.

the rest of the night was a blur. the mix of the vodka and also the drugs did not sit well with you. you sort of just watched as the girls, thanos, nam-gyu, and some other random guy conversed, trying to swallow the fact that you felt like you were about to blackout. you hadn't even realized that its been about 5 hours since you first got to the club.

you laid in nam-gyus arms watching as the world around you warped and twisted and felt all the sudden very hyper.

"f..fuck." you whimpered, quickly getting up and covering your mouth. "i need to .. go to the bathroom." you mumbled again, hearing someone snicker behind you as you began to speed walk over to the bathrooms. getting there was a bit of a struggle as you had to navigate through sweating dancing bodies and loud music which only made your ache worse.

when you made it to the stalls you quickly crouched down the nearest toilet and began to throw up your own guts.

you hadn't known that when you left the room that nam-gyu had quickly followed behind you.

when you heard him entering the woman's bathroom you thought it was a stranger so you instantly tried to shut yourself up. you were so out of it you forgot to even shut the stall door behind you. sweat poured down your forehead as you heard footsteps behind you, looking over only to see nam-gyu's sweet face.

"it's okay.." he nodded, grabbing your hair and holding it back for you. you took this as an initiative to get the rest of the stuff you had in your system out.

by the time you were done you were crying and sniffing regretting everything you had done that night. you quickly flushed everything you just threw up down and fell into nam-gyu's arms. you didn't have anything to really say to him so you just cried, your tears landing on his black shirt.

he didn't say anything either. he just stroked your hair like you were some kind of pet.

"i wanna go home." you muttered to him--your tone was serious.

"yeah, i think its time we go." he agreed as he helped you up, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

on your way out of the club he simply just gave thanos the 'yknow' look and he nodded in response.

the drive home was strange. you could feel yourself actively falling in and out of sleep and for once you were in the backseat instead of the front-seat.

when you made it to you and nam-gyu's apartment he grabbed you and took you inside the building bridal style. this sent butterflies through your drunken body because even out of your mind you still knew this wasn't how he usually treated you. you clung onto him anyways.

inside, he set you down on your guys bed. he laid down next to you turning himself over so he could see your face. he brushed some of your hair out of your face and stared at you with desire in his eyes.

ironically, there happened to be some water on the nightstand. he grabbed it and slowly brung it to your lips, helping you get some water intake.

you felt a little better knowing you now had a little bit of water in your system.

suddenly, he grabbed your body, pulling you into a sweethearts cradle and hugging you tightly. his body was warm like a heater. it felt great compared to the cold night outside.

you buried your head in his chest feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.

you never wanted to let go of this moment.

to the soft vibrational hums you then fell asleep being cradled in nam-gyus arms.

why couldn't every night be like this?

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - under the checkered flag (part four)

warnings ; alcohol consumption, reader is STILL a clown, jk is also a clown

prompt ; in which a girl who doesn’t believe in risks takes the biggest one of all—falling for a man who lives for the thrill.

note ; it’s actually sickening how quick i wrote this part bc i was so excited for their story i need to get a life. i really relate to reader so i see her struggles but also jk is so sexy so what we doin fr girl. (don’t get excited yall they’re not even close to smashing yet.. or idk, maybe.. who’s to say?) all ur love and comments on the last part made me so happy yeehaw

playlist here

series masterlist here

“You need to get out there.”

Jisoo’s voice is firm, her arms crossed as she leans against your desk, watching you like you’re some kind of puzzle she’s determined to solve.

You barely glance up from your screen, fingers still moving across the keyboard. “I get out there.”

Jisoo snorts. “Yeah, to his house.”

You pause, fingers stuck mid-air. Jisoo has unfortunately read you better than yourself again. She really should get an award for deciphering your inner monologues.

She smirks, triumphant. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You roll your eyes, exhaling sharply as you sit back in your chair. “What’s your point, Jisoo?”

“My point,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “is that you are doing absolutely nothing about the Jungkook situation, and I’m sick of watching it.”

“There is no Jungkook situation,” you argue, though even as you say it, the words feel wrong in your mouth.

Jisoo just looks at you with a familiar gaze, and you wither under her stare. You could not be more obvious if you tried.

“You’re impossible,” she sighs. “Fine. If you’re not gonna do anything about him, at least give my friend a shot.”

You blink. “What?”

Jisoo perks up instantly, sensing an opening. “I’ve got a friend. Great guy. Works in finance. Super chill. Hot in a ‘wears suits and probably owns expensive whiskey’ kind of way. Your type.”

You frown, shaking your head. “I don’t have a type.”

Jisoo grins. “Oh, you do. And it’s not Jungkook.”

Something in your stomach twists. She’s right. On any good day, about three months ago, you would’ve laughed if you saw Jungkook in a bar, probably would’ve made a comment on how tattoos are disrespectful. Now all you do is admire the art on his arm, wanting desperately to trace your fingers on the designs.

Jisoo doesn’t notice—or maybe she does and just doesn’t care—because she’s already pulling out her phone, scrolling quickly.

“Okay, look.” She shoves the screen toward you, displaying a picture of a man. He’s well-dressed, smiling, objectively attractive. “See? Handsome. Stable job. Probably goes to bed at a reasonable hour.”

You hesitate. You should say no. You should shut this down immediately. But instead, you stare at the photo a second too long. There’s a few reasons for this: Jungkook hasn’t texted you all day, and you keep thinking about him, about that conversation, about how he looked at you when he said, "Yeah, I fucking know. It’s all I think about."

You need to fix whatever this is.

And maybe, just maybe this will help. Maybe this will prove something to yourself.

“Fine,” you murmur, looking away. “I’ll go.”

Jisoo gasps, delighted. “Oh my god. You never say yes to things. I’m so proud.”

You shake your head. “It’s just one date.”

“One date,” she repeats, winking. “And if you don’t like him, then at least we’ve confirmed one thing.”

You frown. “What?”

Jisoo leans in, her voice teasing but knowing. “That you’re already taken.”

Your stomach clenches and you glare at her, but she just laughs.

And for the rest of the day, you pretend like her words don’t echo in your head.

By the time you get home, the weight of the day settles into your bones. The office had been its usual whirlwind—meetings bleeding into each other, emails stacking up, numbers flashing across your screen in an endless stream of data. But even as you buried yourself in spreadsheets and client calls, your mind had been elsewhere.

Jisoo’s words still linger, curling around your thoughts like smoke. “If you don’t like him, then at least we’ve confirmed one thing: That you’re already taken."

You exhale, shaking your head as you slip off your blazer, tossing it over the back of your chair. It’s just one date. Just one night to remind yourself of what you want. And it has nothing to do with Jungkook. You cross your heart and hope to die.

Your phone vibrates against your nightstand almost comically as the thought leaves your mind.

Jungkook: Wanna FaceTime?

Your stomach does something stupid, and you ignore it. Instead, you slide into bed, propping your phone up against your pillow before answering the call.

Jungkook’s face fills the screen, messy hair, damp like he just got out of the shower, a hoodie adorning his body. His room is dimly lit, a lamp casting warm light behind him.

“Hey,” you say, voice softer than you mean it to be.

Jungkook smirks, shifting to get comfortable. “Hey yourself. Rough day?”

You hum, rubbing a hand over your face. “Long day.”

Jungkook watches you for a beat, like he’s reading something in your expression. “Need me to come beat up your boss?”

You huff a quiet laugh. “Tempting.”

He grins, pleased, and the tension in your shoulders eases just a little. See, this is normal. This is you and him. Effortless, easy.

And then, before you can overthink it, the words slip out. “Oh—Jisoo set me up on a date.”

Jungkook stills. For a fraction of a second, his face is completely blank. No teasing smirk, no lighthearted remark. Just… nothing.

“Oh yeah?” He leans back, resting his head against the pillow. “Guess it was bound to happen eventually.”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach tighten. You tilt your head slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Just figured it’d happen sooner or later. You’re—” He waves a hand vaguely. “You know.”

You frown. “No, I don’t.”

His jaw tightens, but his voice stays infuriatingly neutral. “You’re the whole ‘finance, responsible, put-together’ thing. Kinda makes sense you’d go for some suit-wearing guy with a stable job.”

Your brows knit together. “First of all, you haven’t seen the guy. And two, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, a short breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “It’s not.”

But something in his voice makes it seem like it is.

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Are you—” You hesitate, studying him. His body language is relaxed, but his responses are shorter, his usual easy smirk nowhere to be found. “Are you weird about this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Why the fuck would I be weird?”

You blink. “I don’t know. You just sound—”

“I sound fine,” he says, a little too quickly.

You raise a brow. “Okay.”

A beat of silence.

Jungkook shifts, adjusting his hoodie strings, eyes flickering off to the side. “So. Who’s the guy?”

You hesitate. “Just a friend of Jisoo’s. Works in finance.”

Jungkook hums, expression unreadable. “Right. Of course he does.”

Your stomach flips, and you don’t know why.

You cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head. “Why do I feel like you’re judging me right now?”

Jungkook smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not judging. Just… making an observation.”

You hate how much this feels like a shift, like something between you is stretching too tight, pulling at the seams of whatever you’ve built together. It’s just a date. Jungkook shouldn’t care. And yet, his voice is slightly clipped, his jaw tighter than before. He definitely cares.

You chew on your lip. “Are you sure you’re—”

“I’m good,” Jungkook interrupts, forcing an easy grin. “Just curious, that’s all.”

Somehow, that bothers you more, because he’s not good and neither are you. Jungkook shifts again, rolling onto his side, resting his chin on his hand as he exhales through his nose. And then, just like that, he changes the subject. “So, did you ever end up telling your coworker off today?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”

Jungkook smirks, his expression relaxing, like he’s willing the tension out of the conversation. “Your coworker. The one who won’t stop bringing those tuna sandwiches that smell. Did you finally tell him where to shove it?”

You huff a small laugh, sinking further into your pillows. “I don’t think I have the luxury of doing that.”

“Shame.” Jungkook tuts, shaking his head. “If I were your coworker, I’d be terrified of you.”

You snort. “You would not.”

“Oh, I would.” He leans closer to the camera, eyes glinting. “You’ve got that whole quiet-but-powerful thing going on. Like you’re secretly running the whole operation but letting everyone think they have control.”

Your cheeks warm, but you roll your eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

Jungkook grins. “I’m just saying, you do have a certain… intimidation factor.”

“You’re literally a race car driver. I’m pretty sure you have the intimidation factor,” You laugh.

“Yeah, but mine’s expected. Yours is dangerous.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling, and just like that, the conversation falls into the same effortless rhythm it always does.

You talk about your day. He talks about his: how he nearly fell asleep during a sponsorship meeting, how he almost punched a guy for stealing his protein bar, how he spent an hour trying to fix something in his car before realizing he’d been using the wrong tool the whole time. You laugh. He teases you. It’s normal.

For a moment, you forget about the tension from earlier. You forget about the date looming over you. You forget about everything except the fact that this—talking to Jungkook, feeling at ease with him—feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t even realize how late it gets. You yawn, rubbing your eyes, and Jungkook notices. “Tired?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He exhales, shifting onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Then, before you can say goodnight, “I hope you have fun tomorrow.”

Your stomach clenches. He says it so genuinely. So smoothly, like it’s just another sentence, just another thing he’d say at the end of any conversation. But you know better.

You bite the inside of your cheek, studying him through the screen. “Thanks.”

Jungkook hums, nodding slightly. “Goodnight, [Y/N].”

Your heart stumbles over its own rhythm. You don’t know why, but it does. The sound of your name falling from his mouth with ease seems to stop you in your tracks. You don’t say anything for a beat, but Jungkook doesn’t press. He just watches you, waiting.

Finally, you swallow. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

And when the call ends, you’re left staring at the dark screen, the silence of your room feeling impossibly loud.

Because despite everything—despite the fact that you’re supposed to be going on a date tomorrow—you can’t stop wishing it was with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Getting ready shouldn’t feel like this.

It shouldn’t feel like dragging yourself through wet cement, like trying to convince your own reflection that this is something you actually want. But as you sit at your vanity, smoothing concealer under your eyes, brushing powder over your cheeks, curling your lashes with precision, you feel nothing. Not excitement, not nerves. Just… a dull awareness that this is happening, and that somehow, you agreed to it.

Your phone sits beside you, screen dark, mockingly silent. Jungkook hasn’t texted you all day. You don’t know why you expected him to. It’s not like he texts you every day. (Except he does. Almost always. But maybe not today. Maybe not when he knows where you’re going tonight.)

You swallow, shaking your head, brushing a final layer of lip gloss over your lips before grabbing your bag.

This is fine. This is good for you. You need to stop thinking about Jungkook like this. You need to prove that you can.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet.

The city moves around you—neon signs flickering, headlights spilling across the pavement, people weaving in and out of late-night cafés. You grip the steering wheel a little too tightly, your thoughts a little too loud.

Jisoo’s friend’s name is Minho. He’s perfect on paper. Finance guy. Smart, successful, stable. The kind of man your mother would approve of. The kind of man who won’t leave you breathless, who won’t make you feel like you’re hurtling toward something dangerous every time he looks at you. The kind of man who makes sense. And yet, you find yourself dreading every second of this.

You pull into the parking lot, smoothing invisible wrinkles from your dress, inhaling deep as you step out of your car. This is fine. You’re going to have dinner. Make conversation. Enjoy yourself. You will not think about Jungkook.

Minho is already waiting when you arrive.

He’s tall, dressed in a crisp button-down and tailored slacks. His smile is warm, his handshake firm but not too firm. He opens the door for you, gestures for you to go first, waits for you to sit before taking his own seat. It’s… nice. Everything about him is nice.

The restaurant hums with quiet chatter, soft lighting casting a golden glow over the tables. A waiter appears, handing you menus, listing off the specials in a pleasant tone.

You glance up briefly, offering a polite smile. “What do you recommend?”

Minho hums, scanning the menu. “The chicken looks good. But honestly, I’m not too picky. What about you?”

Your lips part, ready to agree with him on the steak. And then a thought crosses your mind. Jungkook wouldn’t have asked. Jungkook would’ve smirked, leaned back in his chair, teased you about ordering the most boring thing on the menu just to be safe.

Your stomach tightens. You clear your throat, forcing a small smile. “I think I’ll get pasta.”

Minho nods approvingly. “Solid choice.”

The night, the conversation flows easily enough. Minho is polite, well-spoken. He asks about your job, actually listens when you explain the intricacies of consulting, nodding in understanding, adding his own insights about the financial world. It’s… easy. But it’s not effortless. Not like it is with Jungkook.

Minho tells a story about a trip he took last summer. You laugh, because you’re supposed to. But the whole time, your mind is somewhere else. Jungkook would’ve made fun of you for fake-laughing right now.

You reach for your phone, out of habit. Still nothing. Not a single message from him. Your fingers hesitate over the screen before you force yourself to set it back down.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Minho asks, sipping his wine.

You blink. “Fun?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. What do you do when you’re not working?”

Your mind blanks as you come to a detrimental realization. Jungkook is your fun. Wine nights. Video games. Him annoying you just to get a reaction.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, feeling ridiculous. “Uh. I don’t know.”

Minho laughs lightly. “I get it. Work keeps you busy.”

You nod, nearly choking on your saliva as it goes down. You should like this, you should like him, but you don’t. And the realization makes you feel sick. On autopilot, you check your phone again.

That’s really when it hits you. You don’t want to be here. You don’t care if Minho is the perfect guy. You don’t want polite smiles and easy conversation. You want teasing smirks and sarcastic remarks and late-night ramen and someone who reads every little thing about you before you even say it out loud. You want Jungkook, and no amount of pretending is going to change that.

Somewhere in the middle of the date, as time ticks dangerously slow, you realize you need to leave in the middle of his story.

Minho is talking—something about his last trip to Jeju, a hiking trail, how he got lost but ended up finding the best seafood restaurant tucked into the cliffs—but you’re barely listening.

You’re nodding at the right moments, humming in agreement, sipping at your wine, but your mind is somewhere else, or rather—with someone else.

Jungkook wouldn’t have let you zone out like this. Jungkook would have noticed the second your mind drifted, smirked at you across the table, called you out on it just to see you flustered.

But Minho just keeps talking, and you can’t help but compare. You feel awful about it, but the thought keeps nagging at the back of your mind. This is supposed to be good for you.

You inhale slowly, fixing the napkin folded in your lap, shaking yourself out of your own head. Focus. Try. Minho is nice. He’s stable. He’s normal.

A thought slams into you with such certainty that it nearly knocks the breath out of your lungs. You need to get out of here.

“Minho.” You blink, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m so sorry—I just realized I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should probably call it a night.”

Minho pauses, a little surprised, but he nods easily. “Of course. No problem at all.”

He doesn’t look disappointed. Just polite. Understanding. That somehow makes you feel worse. Because the truth is, he probably felt the lack of something between you, too.

You push out of your chair, pulling a few bills from your bag for your share of the dinner, but Minho waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.”

You force a small smile. “Thank you.”

The waiter returns with the check, and you busy yourself slipping on your coat, gripping the lapels a little too tightly.

Minho stands with you, offering a smile. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too,” you say, and you mean it. He’s good. He’s great, actually. He’s just not Jungkook.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You don’t even think about it.

One second, you’re stepping into your apartment, kicking off your heels, breath still uneven from leaving the restaurant earlier than you should have. The next, your fingers are hovering over Jungkook’s name, your phone vibrating with noise as you wait for him to answer.

It’s muscle memory. Instinct. He answers immediately, like he was waiting.

The screen flickers to life, and there he is: hoodie on, silver chain glinting against his collarbone, hair messy from the day’s activities. His eyes flicker over your face, assessing, before his lips pull into a lazy smirk. "Thought you’d be out late."

His tone is casual. Easy, but his jaw is tight. His fingers tap idly against his phone, betraying the restless energy behind the smooth facade.

He’s not okay. For some reason, that makes something in you unravel.

You exhale, sinking onto your couch, legs folding beneath you. “It was fine,” you say, voice softer than you intend. “Just… not for me.”

Jungkook hums, tilting his head slightly, leaning back against his pillows. He stretches one arm over the back of his couch, watching you carefully. Slowly, he smirks, like he knew it all along. “Not for you, huh?"

Something about the way he says it—so smug, so damn certain—makes heat prickle at the back of your neck.

You huff. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything,” he muses, but his grin widens, teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Just saying. You didn’t even last a full dinner.”

You scowl. “I lasted long enough.”

Jungkook hums again, unconvinced. “Did you?”

Your fingers tighten around your phone. “Shut up.”

But Jungkook grins, shifting slightly, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s cataloging every little reaction, every little tell.

“What happened?” he presses, voice dipping lower, smooth and slow like he’s enjoying this.

You exhale sharply, tilting your head back against the couch. “Nothing.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Nothing?”

You hesitate. “He was nice.”

Jungkook lets the words settle for a beat, then nods slowly. “Nice.”

His voice wraps around the word like it’s an insult.

You glare at him through the screen. “What?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Nothing.”

The teasing smirk is still there, but his eyes have darkened slightly, like he’s weighing his next words carefully. “Did you like him?"

You should say yes. You really should, but you don’t. Instead, you lick your lips, heart thudding against your ribs. “I don’t know.”

Jungkook laughs, soft, amused. “You don’t know?"

Your pulse spikes. “Jungkook.”

“No, I’m just—” He leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his expression so unfairly confident. “You either liked him or you didn’t.”

You exhale, fingers curling into the fabric of your couch. “He was fine.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “That’s not an answer.”

You glare. “I don’t owe you one.”

Jungkook lifts a brow. “You don’t.” A beat. “But you’re still on FaceTime with me instead of on the date with him.”

You freeze because he’s right, and he knows it. His smirk grows, a slow, knowing thing that makes your stomach twist.

“You’re being annoying,” you mutter, looking away.

Jungkook chuckles, stretching back against the couch again. “Am I?”

The confidence in his voice, the way he’s watching you now—lips curled at the corner, eyes laced with something knowing—it makes you feel physically ill, because he’s won this round. And worse? You are going to let him.

You shift slightly, propping your chin in your hand as you glare at him through the screen. “You’re insufferable.”

Jungkook grins, completely unfazed. “I’ve been called worse.”

You roll your eyes. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“Enjoy what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

You huff. “Getting under my skin.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Nah. I just like knowing you think about me when you’re supposed to be thinking about someone else.”

Your stomach plummets. His smirk deepens, almost like he sees it. He sees the way your lips part slightly, the way you blink a little too fast, the way you don’t deny it.

Your throat goes dry. “That’s not—”

Jungkook raises a brow. “It’s not what?”

Your words die on your tongue. What are you supposed to say? That he’s wrong? That you didn’t spend your entire night comparing some perfectly nice guy to him? That your mind wasn’t full of all the ways Jungkook is easier, funnier, more everything?

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You are so—”

Jungkook interrupts smoothly, “Charming? Funny? Handsome?”

You groan. “Infuriating.”

Jungkook just grins, tongue peeking out to play with his lip piercing, completely unfazed. “Yet here we are. FaceTiming after your big date.”

Your jaw tightens. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he muses, dragging out the words like he’s enjoying every second of this. Then, after a beat, “Maybe you even have a little crush on me.”

The thing is, you’re not even trying to make Jungkook work for it. He’s already noticed your internal struggle, already saw right through your façade. You’re trying to get him to stop saying these words so you don’t go actively insane. If you do give in to Jungkook’s advances, you’ve already acknowledged that it won’t end well for you. It will throw your life off course, disrupt the routine you’ve carefully constructed, and tear down the barriers you’ve worked so hard to maintain.

And Jungkook knows it. His smirk grows, eyes darkening just slightly, fingers tapping against his phone like he’s waiting, waiting, waiting.

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re delusional.”

Jungkook hums, amused. “Am I?”

Yes.

No.

You don’t know. What do you know anymore?

Your stomach tightens, something unreadable clawing its way up your throat, and before you let him see it, “I’m hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughs, full and bright. “Oh, running away? Interesting.”

“Good night, Jungkook.”

His grin lingers, eyes glinting. “Sweet dreams.”

The call ends and you’re left staring at the screen, heart hammering, face warm, stomach wrecked.

Jungkook is smug, and maybe, just maybe, he has every right to be.

The next morning, the office feels too bright.

Or maybe it’s just your head, still foggy from last night, from him, from the words he left you with. “Maybe you even have a little crush on me."

You hate how easily Jungkook gets under your skin. You hate that you barely slept, that you spent way too long staring at your ceiling, replaying the conversation in your head, reading into every smirk, every teasing lilt in his voice, every time he let the words linger just a little too long. And most of all, you hate that he was right.

You spent the entire night on a date with someone else, and yet the second you got home, your first instinct was to call him. You groan, rubbing a hand over your face as you sink into your chair.

“Ohhh, you are so dead.”

You barely have time to react before Jisoo appears, all but slamming her hands down on your desk, eyes glittering with a dangerous amount of excitement.

You flinch. “Jesus—”

“Talk.” She pulls out the chair across from you, sliding into it so quickly that her coffee nearly spills. “Date details. Now.”

You hesitate.

Jisoo narrows her eyes.

You exhale, tapping your nails against the desk. “It was… fine.”

Jisoo tilts her head. “Fine?”

You nod. “Yeah. He was nice.”

Jisoo’s brows furrow. “Okay, but nice in a ‘maybe there’s potential’ way or nice in a ‘he was fine, but I was thinking about Jungkook the entire time and wanted to go home’ way?”

Your stomach drops and your face betrays you.

Jisoo sees it immediately, her eyes going wide.

“Oh my god.” She gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth before pointing at you accusingly. “It’s worse than I thought. What, did you call Jungkook after, or something?”

You freeze. Your heartbeat spikes. “...No?”

(Lies. All lies.)

Jisoo cackles. “OH MY GOD. You did.”

“I—”

“You so did.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “It’s not—”

“No, no, no.” She leans forward, her grin too knowing. “Don’t even try it.”

You glare at her. “Try what?”

Jisoo smirks. “Denying the inevitable.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Oh, am I?” She lifts her coffee cup, tilting her head. “Because let’s just review for a second.”

“Jisoo—”

“Point one,” she interrupts, raising a finger. “You went on a date with a perfectly nice, perfectly attractive, perfectly normal guy.”

You exhale, rubbing your temples. “Yes.”

“Point two—” Jisoo raises another finger. “You didn’t even finish said date.”

You open your mouth to interrupt, to ask how she got that part of the story already, but she holds up a hand.

“Point three—and this is the kicker—you immediately called Jungkook afterward.”

Your stomach tightens. “It wasn’t—”

“Nope.” Jisoo cuts you off, shaking her head. “You don’t get to explain your way out of this.”

You sigh, fingers curling against your desk. “Jisoo, I—”

She leans in. Her voice softens, teasing gone, eyes glinting with something too real, too honest. “You don’t want anyone else,” she murmurs. “You want him.”

Your throat goes dry. You feel the weight of her words hit you straight in the ribs, knocking something loose. You should argue.You should say something. But you don’t. Because for the first time, you can’t. Deep down, you know.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The weekend comes faster than you expect, and with it, your friend Maya’s birthday party. She’s been your friend for years, an old roommate from your university days.

The bar is already packed when you arrive, music thrumming through the walls, neon signs glowing against the darkened windows. Inside, bodies press together on the dance floor, a sea of movement and laughter and flashing lights. The scent of spilled cocktails lingers in the air, and you can already hear Maya’s distinct laugh from across the room, high and bright, cutting through the noise.

You smile, slipping into the crowd, letting the energy swallow you whole.

This is exactly what you need. A night to drink, to dance, to shake off whatever this weight is that’s been pressing into your chest all week. To forget about the words still ringing in your head from Jisoo. To forget about the fact that you haven’t texted Jungkook all day, and that he hasn’t texted you either.

You don’t think about it. At least, you try not to. Instead, you drink, a little too much, a little too fast. The alcohol spreads warmth through your veins, buzzing beneath your skin, numbing the restlessness that’s been gnawing at you since last night.

You throw yourself into conversation, let Maya pull you into the center of it all, shots lined up on the bar, toasts to another year, cheers that spill into laughter. It’s fun. It’s supposed to be fun. But somewhere between the second and third drink, the laughter starts to feel too loud. The lights too bright. The conversations too shallow.

No matter how many times you shake it off, that feeling lingers. That feeling that something is missing. That feeling that your phone has been too quiet all day. You try not to look at it. You try not to care. Yet, you fail.

And when you finally step outside for some air, the cool night biting at your flushed cheeks, your fingers move before you can stop them.

You don’t even realize you’re calling him until it’s too late. Until the phone is already ringing. Until his voice—low, groggy, familiar—fills your ears.

"[Y/N]?"

His voice is rough with sleep, the kind of rasp that only comes from being pulled into consciousness too fast. And that’s when it hits you— you really should not have called him.

You blink, swaying slightly where you stand on the curb outside the bar, phone pressed too close to your ear. The streetlights cast everything in a warm glow, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

You should hang up. You should. But the moment he hears your little giggle, he knows.

"Where are you?" His tone changes instantly, sharp, awake, concerned.

God, that makes your stomach flutter, or maybe it’s just the drinks, but suddenly, your lips are curving into a grin, because he sounds so serious and you’re so far gone.

"Maya’s party," you mumble, giggling softly as you glance around, trying to get your bearings. “Well, outside of it. Needed air.”

Jungkook does not find this funny. “Are you drunk?"

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest like he just accused you of a crime. “Jungkook! I would never.”

A pause. Then, “You’re wasted."

You giggle again, leaning against the cold brick wall, tilting your head up to the night sky. The stars look so prettytonight.

“I am not wasted,” you declare, even though you are absolutely wasted. “I’m… celebratory.”

Jungkook sighs, and you can practically hear him running a hand through his hair. “Who’s taking you home?”

You blink. Pause. Oh. That’s a great question.

You purse your lips, swaying slightly. “I could take a taxi…”

"Nope." His voice is final. No room for argument.

You hum, eyes fluttering closed for a second. “Okay… so, come get me?”

Silence. A beat too long, too heavy, stretching between you.

Then, his voice drops, steady, certain. “I’m on my way."

You don’t even have time to respond before the call ends, the line going dead in your hand.

And maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the way your heart skips, but suddenly, you feel warm all over.

Jungkook is coming. For you.

You frown at your phone. “So rude.”

The night air is crisp against your skin, but you barely feel it. There’s a warmth curling in your chest, spreading through your limbs, a giddy kind of lightness that has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with him.

You shift on your feet, biting back a smile, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your heart jumps, ridiculous and eager, a quiet thrill rushing through you at the thought of seeing him—at the thought that he’s coming for you. That despite everything, despite the late hour, despite how much of a mess you probably sound over the phone, he’s still choosing to show up.

The thought makes something in your stomach tighten, something warm and buzzing, something that feels dangerously close to happiness.

A hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to find Maya giving you a look. “Who were you talking to?”

You smile. “Jungkook.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Jeon Jungkook? That race car driver you’re seeing?”

You giggle, swaying a little. “Yup. He’s coming to get me. Like a knight.” You pause, tilting your head. “But, like, a tattooed knight. A knight with a lip piercing. A knight who’s really, really hot.”

Maya laughs. “Okay, yeah, you’re definitely drunk.”

You pout. “Nooo. I’m fine. I just—” You stop, eyes widening. “Oh my god.”

Maya panics. “What?”

You grab her arm. “Do I look okay?”

She stares at you. “You look drunk.”

You groan. “Ugh, he’s gonna see me like this! This is a disaster.”

You hold onto her shoulders dramatically, shaking her. Maya smirks. “Sounds like someone wants to impress him.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s not what this is.”

She grins. “Sure, babe.”

Headlights sweep across the pavement, a sleek black car pulling up to the curb. Your heart jumps. You recognize that car anyway. It pulls up to the curb, tires slowing against the pavement, and your breath catches as you see him.

Jungkook.

Your pulse stumbles, fingers tightening against your sides. He hasn’t even stepped out yet, hasn’t even looked at you, but it doesn’t matter, because suddenly, everything feels lighter, easier, safer.

Jungkook barely has time to put the car in park before you’re stumbling forward, waving bye to Maya who just giggles at your walk.

His hand is on you instantly, firm against your waist, steadying you like its second nature. His grip is solid, warm even through the fabric of your dress, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to ground you.

You blink up at him, and god, you should not be this excited to see him.

His brows are drawn together, mouth slightly parted as his eyes flicker over your face, scanning, assessing. “How much did you drink?”

You giggle. “Rude.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, unimpressed, but his fingers don’t leave your waist. “Seriously.”

You tilt your head, your balance shifting slightly—not enough to fall, but enough that his grip on you tightens. That makes you even giddier. “Enough to be very, very happy to see you.”

Jungkook sighs, running his free hand through his hair before gently maneuvering you toward the car. “Get in, sweetheart.”

And you do. Barely. The moment you sink into the seat, the moment the door closes and you’re surrounded by the scent of him—clean linen, something dark and musky beneath it—you melt into the leather, warmth curling low in your stomach. Then he slides into the driver’s seat, and suddenly, he’s so close.

His jaw clenches as he starts the car, one hand on the wheel, the other running over his face in frustration. But you? You’re just watching him, eyes tracing the slope of his nose, the sharp cut of his jawline, the way the sleeve of his hoodie pushes up just enough to reveal the inked lines of his forearm.

He’s so pretty.

Your fingers twitch in your lap, your lips curving before you can stop them. “You’re so pretty, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook chokes on absolutely nothing. His head turns toward you so fast you almost laugh. His expression is a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Jesus Christ.”

You beam at him, lifting your knees to the seat, turning your whole body toward him like you can’t help it. Maybe you can’t. “You are.”

His grip on the wheel tightens, jaw locking as his eyes flick forward again. “You’re drunk.”

You hum, tilting your head. “So?”

“So,” he mutters, shifting into drive. “I’m ignoring you.”

That makes you laugh, throwing your head back against the seat. “No, you’re not.”

Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and you see it. He’s so easy to read, even when he pretends not to be. That makes you bold.

So you lean in, resting your chin on your knuckles, watching him with sleepy, playful eyes. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you?”

Jungkook scoffs, but his ears are turning red. “Go to sleep.”

“Are you blushing?”

“God, I should’ve let you take a taxi.”

You grin, nudging his arm slightly with your fingers. His skin is so warm, his muscles tense under your touch. “I like that you came.”

He doesn’t respond right away. His Adam’s apple bobs, his fingers twitch against the wheel. When he speaks, his voice is a little rougher. “Yeah?”

You hum. “You always come when I call.”

Jungkook’s knuckles turn white on the wheel.

He glances at you, just for a second, something too much, too close, too heavy.

And then, almost like he’s talking to himself, “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I do.”

You don’t know why, but that makes your heart ache.

The rest of the ride is quieter, but the air between you is charged, humming with something unspoken.

And you? You can’t stop staring at him. The warmth in your chest isn’t from the alcohol anymore. That realization is terrifying, you don’t know why, but it does something to you.

Your pulse flutters beneath your skin, your fingers curling against your lap before slowly, without thinking, you reach out again.

It’s not you. You’re not the kind of person who does this. You don’t touch people so easily, so recklessly. You don’t let yourself be this bold, this transparent. But tonight, you can’t help it.

Your hand finds his forearm first, fingers grazing the warm skin exposed beneath the pushed-up sleeve of his hoodie.

Jungkook stiffens.

His fingers tighten around the steering wheel, his breath catching so subtly you almost don’t notice. Almost. But you do, and it only makes you bolder.

Your fingers trace over the ink on his skin, the lines of his tattoos. The warmth of him seeps into your palm, and for some reason, it makes your stomach flip.

"You’re so warm," you mumble, mostly to yourself.

Jungkook lets out a slow exhale. "You need to sit properly."

You shake your head, still tracing patterns against his skin, drunk on the feel of him beneath your fingertips. "Don’t wanna."

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, something low, something restrained. "You’re gonna regret this tomorrow."

You grin, looking up at him with something dangerously close to mischief. "Are you saying I don’t usually touch you?"

Jungkook laughs, but it’s breathless, like he can’t quite believe you right now. "You never touch me."

He’s right.

But you don’t say that.

Instead, your fingers trail higher, up the curve of his forearm, feeling the shift of his muscles beneath his skin. Your body feels hot all over.

You let your fingers brush against his neck.

Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath. Your fingertips graze the sensitive skin just below his jaw, featherlight, hesitant but curious. He swallows deeply beneath your touch, and your stomach tightens because he lets you do it.

For a second, he really lets you, lets himself indulge into what it would feel like to be desired by you.

Then, breaking the trance, his hand snaps up, catching your wrist. His grip isn’t rough, but it’s firm, steady, grounding you in a way that makes your head spin for an entirely different reason.

"[Y/N]..” he warns, voice low, barely above a whisper.

You blink up at him, feeling reckless, feeling brave, feeling entirely not yourself.

"Jungkook," you whisper back.

His fingers tighten just slightly around your wrist, his jaw clenching, his eyes flickering between yours like he’s searching for something.

His tongue flicks out, wetting his lips, grazing against the silver of his piercing. Your stomach flips. You can’t stop staring.You can’t stop wanting.

But before you can do anything else, before you can ruin yourself completely, Jungkook sighs. And then, in a voice that is too soft, too knowing, too unfairly patient, “You need to sleep it off, sweetheart."

And just like that, you’re ruined anyway.

The hum of the car engine is steady beneath you, lulling you into something soft, something weightless. The warmth of the interior, the rhythmic motion of the road, the faint scent of Jungkook’s cologne lingering in the air—it all pulls you under, wrapping around you like a cocoon.

You don’t mean to fall asleep. But you do. And for the first time in a long time, sleep is easy. It’s peaceful. Quiet. No racing thoughts. No overthinking. No him lingering too close in your mind. Just warmth.

When you finally do wake up, the world is still.

The engine is off, the headlights casting soft shadows against the pavement outside your apartment. The air between you feels heavier, quieter, like neither of you are sure what comes next.

You shift slightly, stretching in your seat, blinking against the dim glow of the streetlights. Your gaze drifts to Jungkook, who’s sitting back against the headrest, one hand still on the steering wheel, the other draped lazily over the gear shift.

He’s watching you. Not in a way that makes you feel self-conscious, not in a way that feels expectant, not in a stalker-y way. Just… watching, like maybe he’s been doing it for a while.

"You’re really nice," you murmur, your voice still heavy with sleep, with warmth.

Jungkook’s lips twitch. "Yeah?"

You hum, nodding slightly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress, mind still hazy. "You always take care of me."

Something flickers in his eyes. Something that makes the air between you feel too thick.

He doesn’t say anything.

Suddenly, you don’t want to think. You don’t want to overanalyze, don’t want to let hesitation sink its claws into you before you can act.

So you don’t. You just move.

Leaning in before you can stop yourself, drawn in by the warmth of him, the steady weight of his presence. Your breath fans against his lips. His sharp inhale cuts through the quiet. You can feel it—the shift in him. The way his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, the way his jaw clenches, the way his breath falters, uneven, as your faces linger too close, as your pulse hammers beneath your skin.

And for a second, just for a second, you think he’s going to close the distance.

But then, "Not like this."

His voice is low, rough around the edges, like it’s taking everything in him to pull away.

You blink, your chest rising and falling too fast, your body still too warm, your lips still too close. “Why?" It’s barely a whisper, barely a sound. Just breath and longing and confusion wrapped into one.

Jungkook exhales, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. “Because I want you sober when you finally kiss me."

Damn it, you feel that everywhere. Like a live wire against your skin. Like an ache settling deep in your bones. Like something dangerous, something fragile, something terrifyingly real.

You huff, shoulders slumping as the warmth of his words lingers in the tight space between you.

The weight of it settles deep in your chest, leaving you fluttery, restless, and entirely unsatisfied.

“That’s stupid,” you grumble, voice petulant as you sink further into the passenger seat.

Jungkook sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before shifting to unbuckle your seatbelt. “It’s not stupid.”

You pout, arms crossing over your chest. “It is stupid. Because I do wanna kiss you.”

His hand freezes. For a moment, you think he’s going to respond, maybe tease you, maybe say something to make this all feel less real, less loaded, less dangerous, but instead, Jungkook exhales, eyes flickering to yours, something unbearably soft in his gaze.

“You will,” he murmurs. “I promise.”

And for some reason, that makes your stomach twist even more.

Before you can dwell on it—or before you can embarrass yourself any further—Jungkook is stepping out of the car, rounding the hood, and opening your door.

You barely have a second to process what’s happening before his hands are on you, warm and gentle, lifting you effortlessly out of your seat.

You squeak, instinctively clutching his hoodie, fingers curling into the fabric. “Jungkook!”

He barely reacts, adjusting you against his chest like you weigh nothing. “You’re not walking up those stairs by yourself.”

You scowl, burying your face in his shoulder. “I could.”

He snorts. “Yeah, sure. After tripping over air four times tonight? Not a chance.”

You mumble something about him being dramatic, but you don’t fight him. Mostly because you don’t want to. Because the way his arms feel around you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, the warmth radiating off of him, it all makes your body feel soft, pliant, safe.

Your apartment door unlocks with a soft beep, and before you know it, Jungkook is setting you down inside, his hands lingering at your waist for just a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

You whine at the loss of warmth. “You’re so mean.”

Jungkook sighs, toeing off his sneakers before nudging you toward the bathroom. “Come on. Skincare time.”

Your brows furrow as you blink up at him. “You know my skincare routine?”

Jungkook gives you a flat look. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you do it? You talk through every step like you’re running a live tutorial.”

You gasp, offended. “It’s educational.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Sit.”

And somehow, he actually does it for you. His hands are careful as he applies each product, thumbs smoothing cream into your skin with a level of patience and concentration that makes your stomach flip. His brows are furrowed slightly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up to his elbows as he massages your face with way too much care for someone who pretends to be this cool all the time.

You stare at him, heart full, warmth buzzing beneath your skin.

When he finishes, he wipes his hands on a nearby towel, tilting his head at you. “Alright. Bed.”

You blink up at him and pout.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow instantly. “No.”

Your bottom lip wobbles dramatically. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“I do,” he deadpans. “And the answer is no.”

You sway toward him, fingers curling around the sleeve of his hoodie. “Stay.”

Jungkook sighs, long and heavy, rubbing his temple. “[Y/N]...”

You blink at him, playing it up, all wide eyes and softness. “Please?”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not even gonna remember this in the morning.”

You nod too eagerly, holding onto him too tightly. “But I will remember sleeping alone and being so sad about it.”

Jungkook laughs under his breath, shaking his head, already giving in.

"Fine," he mutters, rolling his shoulders like he’s pretending this is a chore. "But I’m sleeping on the couch."

You beam. “Good enough."

And as you finally crawl into bed in the pajamas he picked out for you, warmth wrapping around you, Jungkook’s presence lingering in your apartment, you sleep. Peacefully and safely.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

taglist ; @yooniepot @bookstoread199 @pipipipiiiii @someonegoood @vintagemoonsstuff @kittisuuuuu @ttanniett @loonareads @jincapableoflove @jkxlvrr @taekrve @jenniebyrubies @senaqsstuff @somisarchive @somehowukook @mysjammy @busanbby-jjk @mimi1097 @mikrokosmosellen @indyuhhhhh @vantelover1306 @haru-jiminn @sky-23s-world @minimoninini @bighitfics @outofworldvy @smartkive @dontcallmeelle @beomluvrr @tatamicc @seokout @ashslight @avawants2havefun @bjoriis @jjeonjjk7 @mar-lo-pap @parkinglot-nights @coletaehyung @mellyyyyyyx

[xothatnerdykid]

guilty as sin

You're a dedicated nurse who loves their job even when it means taking care of stubborn, battle-worn pro-heroes (or maybe especially then). Aizawa Shouta x gn!reader. Set between S6 & S7. Fluff, slight angst with comfort. SFW, 2k words.

The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air as you walk down the pristine white hallways of Central Hospital. The raid against the Paranormal Liberation Front had left the medical facility overcrowded, understaffed, and bustling with activity. You yourself had been working tirelessly for the last 24 hours straight to care for the numerous injured heroes and civilians. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, your feet dragging slightly with each step. Your shift was supposed to have ended hours ago, and you were more than ready to clock out and get some much-needed rest. However, there was just one patient left to see.

You knock at the door. 

"Good morning," you greet the man lying down on the bed. You don't have the strength to muster a smile, but that's okay. He doesn't seem to either. 

Instead, he gives you a familiar nod. "Good morning."

He was a brooding, reserved man of a few words. With dark hair and even darker eyes - well, eye, the other being wrapped in bandages - he looked more tired than you some days. You can't fault him for that though. You knew he had been at the front lines of the battle that day and had paid a heavy price for it. 

He sits up as you come closer, approaching his bedside. The room is quiet, save for the soft beeping of the machines monitoring his vitals.

"How are you feeling today?"

He shrugs. "I've been better. I've been worse."

"I can see that," you nod, noting the way his complexion is less pale and his hair less unruly today compared to the past week. You open the blinds for him, warm light streaming into the dim room. “More sunlight ought to be good for you.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, blinking up at the bright, blue sky out the window. 

You take that as your cue to go about your usual tasks silently, adjusting his IV, checking his bandages, writing down his vitals. 

Then, out of the blue, he says, “You’ve been working long hours lately. You should get some rest.” 

"Believe me, I will. Just as soon as you're taken care of first."

"I'm fine,” he responds in a clipped, dismissive tone of voice.

“Fine or not, it's my job to make sure you’re comfortable and healing properly. You went through a lot, losing an eye and a leg. Frankly, I’m not sure we should go through with discharging you tomorrow.”

He heaves a tired sigh, “Like I said, I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse, too.” 

Frowning, you sit down on the bedside chair and take a moment to look at him. Despite his stoic facade, you can see the toll all those years of being a hero have taken on him, especially the past few weeks. The dark circles under his remaining eye, the weary lines and scars etched into his face. The worried, pained look that lingers even when he's trying to relax. 

"You know, it's okay to admit that you're not feeling great. From what I've been told, it seems like you've been through hell and back."

He shrugs again, leaning back against the pillows with a wince that he tries to hide. "It comes with the job. If anyone deserves your concern, it's my students."

“It must be hard, seeing them fight in a war. They’re just children, after all.”

He nods grimly, his mouth a tight line. "And because of this—" he touches the bandages covering his eye "—my quirk is pretty much useless now, especially on the villains we’re up against.”

He doesn't say it, but you can hear it in the tightness of his voice, his clenched jaw, his hands fisting the bedsheet. You know what he really means: “I'm useless now."

You want to reach out to touch him, maybe place your hand atop his, but you're not sure if he'd welcome such a gesture, especially from someone he's only known for a short time. You settle for a few sympathetic words instead, folding your hands in your lap. 

"Aizawa-san, do you honestly think your quirk is the only thing that makes you a hero? You've done so much for your students, for so many people. You're a mentor and a role model to these kids. I'm sure they trust and look up to you more because of this, not less.”

He looks at you for a long moment, that same unreadable expression on his face.

"I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t protect them the way I used to."

"Maybe not, but even without your quirk, you have your experience, your wisdom, and a heart that cares deeply for them. That's more than enough."

Instead of responding, he stares silently up at the ceiling. You don't push him, resigning to let the moment simply stretch out. After all, this is the most you've ever talked to him the whole week.

As he gets lost in his thoughts, you find yourself mentally tracing the contours of his face, where the sunlight bathes his skin in a soft, warm glow. It accentuates the strong lines of his jaw, his nose. Softens the look in his dark eyes. 

You take a quiet breath, surprised by the fluttering sensation in your chest. It's an odd time and place to notice something like this, but you can’t deny there's a certain rugged handsomeness to him.

You shift your weight, feeling a little self-conscious about your own thoughts. It’s unprofessional, you chide yourself, to think of a patient this way. But the inexplicable attraction you feel for the man before you is unmistakeable.

Aizawa turns slightly, catching you off guard as his eyes meet yours. When he finally speaks again, his voice is softer, almost contemplative. 

“It's strange. There was a time in my life when I wouldn't have cared what happened to me in the line of duty, whether I lived or died. But now...I want to live for those kids. My kids.”

You manage a wobbly smile even as your heart aches at his words. "Your students are lucky to have someone who cares about them so much."

“You remind me of them a little bit.” He lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling softly in the quiet room. “Determined, stubborn, always insisting on helping.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

The corner of his lips quirk up, and the realization that he might actually be teasing you sends your heart aflutter. 

“Mostly good,” he murmurs. “A little bit troublesome for me though.”

“Yeah?” You bite back a smirk. “You’ve been a bit troublesome for me, too, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the pillows. “Is that so? And how do you propose I make it up to you, then?”

Maybe it’s the huskiness of his voice, the quiet intensity of his gaze, or the faint smile tugging at his lips, but something about him in this moment makes your stomach freefall. And you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him, passionately and spontaneously, as if afraid to see sense. 

You know you shouldn't indulge this, should put a stop to this train of thought before it gains too much momentum. You’re thankful you manage to keep your voice steady despite the rush of blood pounding in your ears. 

“Well, Aizawa-san, you could start by taking me out to dinner. Dealing with a patient as stubborn as you has its price, you know.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake. But then his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you feel your breath hitch. He tilts his head, his expression thoughtful yet guarded, as if trying to read between the lines of your playfulness.

“I suppose,” he concedes softly. “But you might find that I’m not as interesting as you think, Y/N. I’m just a man who cares about the people in his life and does what he can to protect them.”

"That's exactly what I like about you.” Your voice drops to a whisper, your hand lightly brushing against his.

He groans softly, and you feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the sound. He rubs his hand down his face, seemingly weighing his options. 

It’s not too late, you assure yourself in a rush of anxious thoughts. You haven’t crossed any lines you can’t go back on, haven’t overstepped the delicate boundary between patient and nurse, between flirtation and something more. 

“Will you let me kiss you at the end of the date?”

Oh.

The line is a dot now.

You swallow hard and — heart pounding in your chest, everything else spinning dizzyingly out of focus — you rush forward to close the distance between you, pressing your lips urgently against his. 

The spark you felt before intensifies into an electrifying current now, racing down your spine as he tangles one hand in your hair and another holds you by the nape. He tilts your head back to kiss you deeper, his lips hungrily exploring yours, and you feel drunk on the pleasure of his touch, the intoxicating scent of his skin and his aftershave.

The softness of his lips contrasts with the roughness of his stubble, sending shivers of delight coursing through you. His mouth is warm and inviting, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his kiss, the way he breathes you in, the quiet sighs of pleasure that escape both of you. 

Your mind spins with the realization of how much you’ve wanted this and how many ill-advised daydreams you’ve had of him these past few weeks. When you finally break apart for air, you keep your forehead pressed against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The sound of your blood rushing in your ears drowns out the rhythmic beeping of the machines around you, and for a moment, the world feels narrowed down to just the two of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” Your breath comes in ragged gasps. Your fingers gingerly touch your lips, which are pursed in surprise. “That was reckless of me. I shouldn’t have.”

Aizawa blinks at you, his dark eyes wide and dazed, like he’s trying to process what just happened. He licks his lips, a gesture that sends a fresh wave of warmth through your body.

“Do you…” His voice is husky, tinged with uncertainty. “Do you regret it?”

“No, of course not,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I only regret not doing it at a better time.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise before softening, the tension in his shoulders seemingly melting away. 

"Good," he murmurs, reaching for you, his thumb cradling your jaw and tracing small, soothing circles on your skin. “Because I’d like to do it again—”

He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And again—”

He brushes his lips teasingly against yours, feather-light and promising of more.

“And again.”

The admission sends a thrill through you, a rush of joy and excitement that makes your pulse quicken. "All the more reason to look forward to dinner, I suppose. After you get better, that is."

He chuckles softly. "Shouldn't be a problem, seeing as how I have an excellent nurse taking care of me."

"Mmmhm. Speaking of, is there anything else I can do to make you…more comfortable before I leave?” You can't help but ask, a playful lilt in your voice.

He captures your lips in a delicate kiss, so sweet and tender, like a dream barely skimming the surface of reality. You've finally calmed down enough to hear the sound of his heart rising, betrayed by the loudening beep of the machine. His hand trails down your arm and he laces his fingers with yours, smiling against your lips. 

“I can think of a few things.”

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (1/8 and index post, fic now complete 🐈‍⬛)

So I posted about this idea before here, (and was overwhelmed by the response—thank you!) but basically a cat café opened near me and inspired this:

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: E; No major warnings, sexual content, omega-verse; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst; (It won't get tooooo angsty, I promise, and I should probably write a shorter version, but this seemed to want to get bedded in for some plot, so...) read on A03 and thank you @lexirosewrites for being so patient with my weird belated questions about what do with my idea!

Chapter 1 (below) Chapter 2 Chapter 3.1 Chapter 3.2 Chapter 4.1 Chapter 4.2 Chapter 5.1 Chapter 5.2 Chapter 6.1 Chapter 6.2 Chapter 7.1 Chapter 7.2 Chapter 8.1 Chapter 8.2 and THE END

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Chapter 1

Steve clocked in with Carol at the coffee counter and cosied up on a beanbag waiting for the first customer to arrive. He couldn’t stop yawning and struggled to keep his eyes open.

He didn’t usually work the Monday morning graveyard shift at ‘Kitties’—otherwise known as the Omega Café. Carol usually put him on the weekends, which were their busiest times. Plenty of Alphas—and sometimes Betas—were free then, to pass an hour with a cute Omega purring in their lap.

For a cost, naturally.

Steve, though, had called in sick yesterday and needed to make up his lost earnings. He’d been in heat. So, three days of cold sweats, congealed slick, and crippling cramps. At least the blockers he used for this job curbed his desperation to be fucked. All the same, a dull gnawing pain in his pelvis persisted, he’d barely slept and…

…Ugh, this beanbag was, if anything, too inviting and soft.

He’d gotten his most comfy, stretchy shorts on, his most butter-soft collar, and an only-slightly-cropped-at-the-midriff vest. His feet were bare, which was fortunate. Right now, only his icicle toes were keeping him awake. He was tempted to grab one of the many fluffy blankets scattered around the café, pull it up over him and snooze.

He was torn between asking Carol for a double espresso or napping—to be fair, it was unlikely anybody would join them till noon—when the bell on the door tinkled.

So much for a peaceful snooze.

Fortunately, rather than a hungover Alpha, Robin burst in. On spotting Steve, her shoulders sagged with obvious relief. She hurried up to the counter and presented Carol with her Apple-Pay. “Flat white with an extra shot, and an hour of kitty cuddles, please.”

“Sure.” The payment bleeped through, and Carol turned to grind the coffee beans. She never bothered with great customer service for Steve’s best friend. That said, customer service wasn’t Carol’s strength at the best of times. Steve liked that about her. For an Omega, she was a bitey feral, and she sure had their boss, Tommy, under her claw.

Robin sat down at a table, pulled a cushion onto her lap. Steve shuffled over on his knees and laid his head on the cushion:

“Jesus, Robin,” he whispered, as she started to pet his hair. It was usual practice for Omegas to wait till the customer spoke first, but this was, well, Robin. “You don’t have to pay to see me, you know that?”

“Apparently, I do, Dingus! I’ve been going out of my mind! Why didn’t you return my, like, billion texts?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Her fretful pettings only made him feel more guilty. “I’m out of data, and you know how shit Wi-Fi is in Sunshine Village. Plus, I had really bad cramps this month—I could barely crawl out of bed this morning.”

“Yeah, I guessed that. God, I’m sorry, too.” She slowed her strokes, as they both relaxed a little. “I worry about you all the time, living there. Working here. I wish I could take you home with me. Damn, I should rent somewhere you’re actually allowed to live.”

“No way. I’m fine, Robin. Seriously, I’ve landed on my feet. I like having my own little home. The heating is working in my block this week, and this is a pretty cushy gig.”

Steve didn’t even say that for the benefit of Carol, who’d just dumped Robin’s coffee on the table, slopping half of it into the saucer.

Steve had arrived in the city four months ago, down to his last few dollars. He’d soon realized that acceptable Omega jobs—teaching assistant, nanny, seamstress, junior positions in retail and catering—would all require handing over too much information about himself. He’d also swiftly discovered that Sunshine Village, the district he’d heard about where single Omegas could live unmolested, was little better than a slum.

He’d been caught between the terrifying choices of fleeing back home, starving, or sex work. Then he’d stumbled across this place.

If Tommy had checked the fake name Steve gave, he hadn’t cared. Steve got paid in cash after each shift and earned enough to rent a small place in the Village. Which, despite its shabbiness, turned out to be full of friendly, supportive Omegas.

It all meant he didn’t have to worry about Robin being evicted from her pleasant ‘beta’ neighbourhood for harbouring an unregistered Omega.

Robin chatted on, while sipping the remnants of her coffee and petting Steve idly. While she complained about how unfair the world was for Omegas—they’d met when Steve had turned up at an Omega soup-kitchen she volunteered at—her speech also underlined his point.

His life could be a shitload worse.

This morning, he was being paid for his best friend to give him much-needed bodily contact in a no-strings-attached fashion. While he didn’t have to force fake purrs for her, like he did for the majority of customers, soft sleepy purring happened anyhow.

After Robin left for work, the café was empty again. Carol made them both hot chocolate then turned her attention to doing her nails. Steve breakfasted on an out-of-date lemon muffin, which was still nice and gooey in the middle, then slipped out to the washroom for the second time since Robin left. He needed to re-check his hair.

He was reapplying his eyeliner, when he heard the bell tinkle again.

So much for the ‘graveyard’ shift. He pinched his pale cheeks, bracing himself to face whoever wanted to cuddle him next.

A high-pitched squeal from Carol pierced Steve’s hearing—one that was probably only audible to other Omegas.

And the scent snatched his breath.

The Omega café was flushed with scent-neutralising air fresheners, for obvious reasons. Whoever this Alpha was, his musk was potent enough to punch straight through. It nearly floored Steve with low notes of leather and woodsmoke, and high notes of… Christ, Steve didn’t know what that was.

Plums? Fine Californian wine?

It set his mouth watering, for all of a split second.

Carol! Was she okay?

He rushed from the washroom and peeped from behind a thick velour curtain.

Carol was fine. She was taking payment from an Alpha with long, slightly-frizzy retro hair, a jean jacket—who the fuck wore those?—and dark soulful eyes.

Steve’s heart rate spiked.

The Alpha was pretty damn good-looking, and young too, maybe only a year or so older than Steve.

He was also faintly familiar.

Did Steve know him from back home? Would he recognise Steve?

“So, how does this work?” asked the newcomer. His drawling accent sent a shiver down Steve’s spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him… and that definitely wasn’t a North County accent. Steve relaxed slightly, ogling the guy who was literally setting both his and Carol’s legs wobbling.

“You pay up front for an hour of kitty cuddles,” she said. “You have to order a minimum of one drink, and all new customers must read and sign our rules and disclaimers.”

“Ma’am, it’s Monday morning.” The Alpha sounded wearily amused, gesturing to the three-page fine-print document she shoved across the counter. “Do I really have to read all this?”

“How about I summarize for you.” Yup, Carol was being helpful and polite. Either someone kidnapped the real Carol, or this Alpha really was special. “You’re not about to go into rut, I take it? Because if you are, Sir, I’m really, really sorry—we can’t take that risk here, or we could get shut down.”

The Alpha shook his head. While Carol reeled off a few pertinent points—“no scenting, obviously. No kissing,”—his gaze snapped onto where Steve skulked, half-hidden behind the drapes.

Steve jumped back out of sight.

“Soooo,” said the Alpha, when Carol finally stopped talking. “To summarise—I can stroke the pussies, but I can’t stroke the pussies?”

Carol giggled. Though they’d all heard that joke, and every variation on it, at least a billion times.

“Pretty much,” she said. “We’re absolutely NOT a brothel. And don’t expect cat-ears and whiskers and all that jazz. Thursday is usually full-costume night, and… erm, right now, we only have one kitty, and he seems to have strayed. Boy kitty okay with you?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” said the Alpha.

“Cool. I’ll go coax him out with a saucer of milk or something.”

She found Steve backed up against the dingy back-corridor wall, knees basically jello. “Get out there! Christ, you do realize who that is?”

Steve shook his head, throat too tight to speak. He honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him. Alphas moseyed in and out of this place every day. He was usually able to keep himself together.

“It’s Eddie Munson! Lead singer of Corroded Coffin? Super-hot and super-famous bad-boy Alpha rockstar? Jeeees, you really did live in a box till you got here, didn’t you? Look, get out there—before I tell him boy kitty is off the menu, grab my skimpiest bikini, and burrow into that scorching lap myself.”

She nudged him through the curtain. Eddie Munson had already settled onto one of the cafe’s roomiest couches, arms splayed along the back.

Legs splayed too.

Eddie glanced up and those gorgeous eyes raked Steve, head-to-toe, stripping him so bare he might as well have forgotten his shorts. The Alpha’s grin spread slowly, revealing glinting incisors, and creasing up into the sexiest dimples Steve had ever seen.

Steve wasn’t sure how he made it across the room. Somehow, he did, shuffling the final few feet on his knees.

“Hello, Kitty,” said Eddie. Possibly taking pity, he closed his legs. He shoved his thighs forward so Steve could easily lay his head in them.

Steve did so, facing out across the café. His heart skittered like a little prey animal’s. It was only then that he realized Eddie hadn’t placed a cushion on his thighs. Well, if Carol hadn’t highlighted that part of the rules, Steve was hardly in a position to do it now.

Eddie didn’t mess around. Strong fingers plowed straight into the springy mass of Steve’s hair. “What’s your name, Honey?”

“Uh… St-steve?”

Who fucking stammers answering his own name?

“Hi, Steve. I’m Eddie.” He leaned a little closer, hot breath joining those strong fingers to send Steve even deeper into fluster. “How do you put up with the stink in here? I mean, I get it. All those Alpha-Omega scents battering each other would make this place a real fleshpot. Shame, though. I bet you smell real sweet. I mean, I think I get a whiff of you, even now.”

“You get used to it,” squeaked Steve, cutting that line of conversation off pronto.

“You get used to the diabolical plinky-plonky piano music too, Steve?”

“Honestly, I don’t even hear it anymore.”

To be fair, Steve didn’t hate the perpetual loop of movie theme-tune classics for exactly that reason. Even the smoochiest love songs—like the instrumental version of “Everything I do, I do it for you,” currently playing—didn’t mess with his emotions in the way music so often did.

Eddie snorted a dry chuckle, leaning back against the cushions again. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You’re right, Steve,” drawled Eddie, massaging deliciously into Steve’s scalp, “it’s pretty easy not to hear it. You have got the cutest purr.”

Steve’s eyes flew wide. He hadn’t even realized he was purring yet! Yeah, he could fake purr, but he’d been too befuddled to get to that. Now, he shook with loud rattling purrs that he could barely control.

Omegas purred when they were happy and relaxed, and also when distressed, to comfort themselves. He’d been reduced to that over the weekend. These purrs, though, grew couch-quakingly loud and felt different from anyway he’d purred before.

“You okay there, Honey?” Thank heavens Eddie was nice, though that made Steve’s weirdness all the more inexplicable. Eddie ran the back of coolish fingers down Steve’s burning cheek.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Steve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His hormones must still be doing weird things after his chemically fucked-up heat.

He probably should’ve called in sick today too.

“Don’t apologise,” Eddie said. “Look, it’s freakin’ Monday morning. I’m the weirdo Alpha checking this place out. You’re just doing your job, and you’re mighty fine at it, I’m sure.” The words washed through Steve, their brutal truth leaving an awkward residue. “Listen, I’m just gonna sip my coffee and chill. You reckon you can chill too, little kitty?”

“Yes, Alpha,” murmured Steve. The preening growl that jostled from Eddie was enough to make Steve desperate to obey.

He didn’t usually call anybody Alpha on the job. It wasn’t strictly against the rules, but unless a client demanded it—and only the real a-holes did—the kitties avoided it.

Eddie, though, had dragged it from Steve before he could think about it, much like those purrs.

And much like how, a minute or so of petting later, Steve found himself purring effortlessly, and totally relaxed. He wasn’t even stressed by the fact that his cheek rested dangerously close to Eddie’s Alpha dick. Which appeared to be ballooning slightly beneath his thick pair of sweatpants.

This was exactly why the cushions were compulsory. Though Steve barely had time to worry.

“Steve,” said Eddie, fingering around the edge of Steve’s collar in a fashion that literally made Steve’s eyes cross with yumminess. “Are there any rules against you getting in my lap for proper cuddles?”

“No. Absolutely not.” There really wasn’t, though of course, it only worked with the larger Alphas. There’d been no way Steve could’ve fitted into a Beta like Robin’s lap, for example, without some level of squishing. Eddie was, to be fair, not the largest Alpha around, but he was certainly large enough.

After some not-too-awkward manoeuvring—and guided by Eddie’s hand in the small of his back—Steve soon found himself sitting across Eddie’s lap. Eddie scooped him close, and his arms curled around Eddie’s neck.

He stared point-blank into the fathomless depths of Eddie’s dark eyes. Nope. Too much. He dipped his gaze, then squeaked. Now, he fixed on Eddie’s jawline and throat, dusted with scruff, and which drew him like, well, catnip.

Steve inhaled oaky-smoky plums and… Holy crap, what even was that? He was in serious danger of burying his face there and violating the no-scenting rule himself.

Once again, Eddie sensed his discomfort and guided Steve’s head down onto his shoulder, holding him there. “Hey, any chance of another coffee,” Eddie called to Carol. “Extra-large mocha with marshmallows, please, Ma’am? Think I might be settling here for a while.”

After that, Eddie appeared to go out of his way to make Steve even more comfortable. Perhaps noting Steve’s squirmings over getting too close to his scent gland, he slid a thin throw cushion beneath Steve’s cheek. He then settled them both back against the comfiest, most enveloping part of the sofa. He pulled one of those fluffy blankets up over them both. Soon, a floaty weariness, bone-deep but pleasant, overcame Steve.

Even his ovaries had stopped bugging him. God, this was nice. He really got paid for this? Damn, he’d fallen on his feet and Eddie smelled divine. He couldn’t help but daydream about that huge Alpha dick nestled stupid-close to his pussy, with only two layers of fabric between them. He was too sleepy to get too excited, tho’. He soon floated on the surface of a calm ocean, safe and serene…

When Steve began waking up, a honeyed glow saturated his head and heart and previously aching pelvis. He couldn’t remember his dreams, but they must’ve been good ones. He felt complete and happy and… he flicked his eyes open. Oh shit! The cafe buzzed with conversation. Several other kitties had come on shift and were snuggling with Alphas.

He’d fallen asleep on a customer’s lap.

Steve’s focus snapped onto the clock behind the counter, where Carol and her assistant, Chrissy, who also did kitty duties, were rushing around making lunches.

1.57 pm.

He’d been asleep on the job for nearly three hours.

Asleep in the lap of…

“Hey there,” drawled Eddie, “somebody’s a sleepy kitty.”

Steve daren’t look up. Was Eddie pissed? He didn’t sound it.

Steve opened his mouth. Shut it again, dabbing the corner. His head had slipped off the pillow and rested against Eddie’s chest. The Alpha’s booming heartbeat mingled with an amused chuckle.

Steve wasn’t laughing: “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I drooled on your t-shirt!”

“I know.” Eddie’s low rumbling sigh was one of the most contented sounds Steve had ever heard. “You gonna charge extra for that, Honey?”

Chapter 2 on tumblr On A03

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ I have got quite a bit of this fic drafted, so hopefully more soon. If you’re enjoying, please let me know, or like and reblog... it means a lot to know somebody would like to read more *purrs hopefully* and thank you soooo much for reading this far 💚

[breakmeoff]

The Boy Next Door │2

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

warnings: tension/angst, fluff...?

word count: 2.6k

synopsis: you babysat him when he was 7 years old, and he’s had a crush on you since you met, despite the 8 year age gap.  between moves to other places and time, it’s been 14 years since you’ve seen each other even though your dads are still best friends, still live next door to each other, and keep up to date about each other's family.  you surprise chris at one of the skz shows, and he’s shocked to see you, and even more surprised that he still has a massive crush on you.  if only he could convince you to look at him in any other way than the boy next door.

note: this is part 2 of a series, which I didn't expect to happen but here we are! still new to this, be kind. thx for reading. :)

Part 1 │ Part 3

The next morning, the sunlight was creeping through the small sliver of space between the curtains and shining directly over your face.  Blinking one eye open cautiously, you peeked around the room to reorient yourself.  Turning to your side, you glanced over to Mia’s bed, unable to see any sign of her other than the mess of bedding concealing a lump in human form with the tips of her dark hair sticking out from under the sheets.

Laying back flat, you threw your forearm over your eyes to block out the light in an attempt to fall back asleep, but your efforts soon became futile.  Your brain started working on overdrive, bringing up glimpses of the night before.  

Shit, Chris kissed me.  

Quietly groaning to yourself, you began justifying his actions on his behalf.  It was just the alcohol, and silly remnants from his childhood crush.  No big deal.  He probably forgot about it already anyway.  So you made the decision to do the same.

After a lazy morning, which really didn’t begin until 1pm after the teenage princess finally decided to roll out of bed, you and Mia decided to spend the rest of your final day of your trip sightseeing.  One hedgehog cafe, far too much mochi, one exhaustive anime shopping excursion and one conveyor belt sushi restaurant later, the two of you trudged your way back to the hotel.  

Dropping the excessive amount of souvenir shopping bags on the floor by your suitcase, you walked back over to the window, grabbing the curtains to close them once again. 

“I cannot believe I let you drag me around for almost 10 straight hours.  My feet are kiiiilling me,” you groaned, flopping onto the bed and kicking off your sneakers.

“Oh whatever, you had fun buying me all that stuff,” Mia said with a bratty smirk on her face, falling down onto the bed next to you.

“Yeah well, I recognize I have to buy your love these days.”  You retorted, glancing over at her.  Nodding, she deadpanned in response, “hmm… true.  I’d say this has been a successful trip then!”  Mia leaned over to give you a quick kiss to your cheek before standing up to start repacking for your return trip home the next morning.

“Great, so glad my credit card did it’s job.”  You teased, nearly rolling yourself off of the bed, audibly wincing in pain.  

“God, you sound like you’re 87 years old,” Mia sneered.

“I feel like it.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go soak myself in the tub for three hours.”  You said over your shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.  A few minutes later, you exhaled a sigh of relief as you sunk into the bathtub in an effort to ease your muscles. 

Between the excitement of the day with your sister and your state of exhaustion, you’d forgotten all about the fact that Chris said he wanted to see you again after his show this evening.

Your phone began buzzing on the floor next to the tub, which caused you to sit upright quickly in shock.  First thing you saw was the name that popped up on the screen.  Chris.  Shifting your vision to the time, and noting it was after 11:30pm, you hesitated.

Almost paralyzed in disbelief, you froze, just letting the call ring out to voicemail.  Truthfully, you couldn’t quite understand why you ignored the call.

Deciding to disregard it completely, you slowly relax back to the edge of the tub, letting the warm water attempt to relax you.  

You had convinced yourself at this point that he was calling just to be polite, to hold his word that he would reach out.  You not answering though was your way of giving him an easy out, to forget about any weird possible obligation he might have felt about calling you that evening. 

He had to have been tired after a late night with you the evening before and another full day of rehearsals and the concert.  And it’s not like he had made any commitment to you and you’d see each other again sometime back home eventually. 

Now, feeling somewhat justified with your decision to ignore it, and resolving yourself to the fact that the matter at hand was settled, your phone vibrated again.  Once, then twice.

Cautiously looking over the edge of the tub, you saw two new text messages pop up on the screen.

Chris:  hey, are you still up? Chris:  I’d really like to see you again before you leave 

“...persistent twerp,” you jokingly whispered to yourself, dragging a hand down your face.  Reaching over to a nearby towel, you began drying your hands off to reply before you heard one more vibration from your cell.

Chris:  please?

Sighing, you picked up your phone, staring at it for a few seconds before typing up a reply.

You:  hey, hope the show went well tonight!  I’m actually just out of the bath and about to pass out.  had a long day with mia and we have an early flight in the morning.  let me know when you’re planning to be back in sydney next and i’ll try to make a trip home at the same time

Sent.  Setting the phone back down on the ground, you leaned over to start draining the water and dry off from the bath.  You couldn’t help but glance back to your phone every few minutes while you finished your bedtime ritual of skin care, taking out your contacts, and brushing your teeth.

Surprisingly, you realized you were almost disappointed that there was no text message back from Chris.  Turning off the light, you exited into the bedroom where Mia was already nestled in bed, facing the wall, scrolling on her phone with her earbuds in, oblivious to the outside world.

Settling yourself in the other bed, you sank onto the mattress with an exhale of relief before putting your glasses on the bedside table beside your phone.  As you were lifting your hand away, you heard another faint vibration.  Cautiously grabbing your cell, squinting at the screen, you saw it.

Chris:  I think I’m outside your room.  Come to the door?

“What the hell…” you whispered to yourself, looking back over to Mia who was still in her own world, you sat up quickly and grabbed your glasses.  Padding over barefoot to the door in just your sleep shorts and baggy tee, you inched up to your tip-toes, peering out the peephole.  Low and behold, there he stood, looking nervously back and forth down the hallway.

Unlatching the deadbolt and security chain, you quietly opened the door, looking over to make sure Mia was still unaware of what was happening, and stepped out into the hallway, leaving the door open just a crack so it wouldn’t lock behind you.

“What ar–” you began, looking incredulously up to Chris’ face which bloomed with a small, relieved grin, glancing over you.

“You still wear glasses…” he murmured wistfully, unable to help himself.

Quieter now, almost with a sense of urgency, you continued.  “Chris, what are you doing here?  And where’s your team…?,” you asked, looking down the hallway seeing no one else nearby.

“I left them downstairs, and I’m sorry for waking you up if I did,” he began, before you cut him off quietly “..no I was still awake.”

“Oh, good…” he nodded, looking you over once again, studying your pajamas, your soft, unkempt hair and clear, makeup-free face.  

Waiting for him to continue, which he didn’t, you spoke again, laughing nervously.  “So why are you here…?”

After a long exhale, he shifted his eyes back to yours.  “Honestly, I’m not really sure.  I just… didn’t want to wait another few years to see you again.”

“Dramatic much?”  You tried to tease, hoping to ease the indescribable tension between the two of you.

Chris shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking down for a moment with a shrug of his shoulders.  “I don’t know, seeing you again just brought something back for me.  Something I didn’t realize I was really missing.”  

“I probably just reminded you of home, I’m sure you miss it.  It’s got to be hard being away for so long,” you said quietly, reassuringly.

“No, I mean… yes, it is, but I don’t think that’s it.”  He paused, observing you, watching you, trying to get the courage to really say what he was feeling.

Not finding the words, Chris couldn’t stop himself before he cautiously took another step closer to you, closing the distance between you.

Unable to take your eyes off of his, watching him move into your space, you barely whispered “...what are you doing?”

And without waiting another second, Chris leaned down, gently pressing his lips against yours.  This time, you didn’t immediately push him away.

Holding your breath, you allowed yours to melt into his.  Noticing that you weren’t stopping him, Chris carefully lifted a hand, softly moving it to cup the side of your face, tilting his head in the kiss as he moved in even closer to your body.

As you subconsciously began feeling the warmth of his body against yours, you quickly regained your thoughts and leaned back, breaking the kiss with a slow shake of your head.  Lightly gliding your tongue over your lower lip, you couldn’t help but taste the remnants of him on your skin.

“We can’t do this…” you whispered, watching him as he reopened his eyes, his hand still against your cheek.

“Why?”  Chris murmured, honestly questioning.  You couldn’t help but laugh dryly at the sweet naivety in his voice.

“Oh, so many reasons,” you quietly began.  Chris on the other hand, was too focused on how close you still were, and he boldly moved his hand to lightly drag the tip of his thumb against your lower lip.  Your breath hitched at the subtle gesture, and your brain finally kicked in.

Reaching up to grab his hand away from your face and break his spell, you tried to gently bring him back to reality.  “For one, you’re like, half my age…” sure it was an exaggeration but you were trying to prove a point.

“You’re really bad at math,” he retorted, dismissing your point.

“Two, we’re in the middle of a hallway…” you motioned to where the two of you were currently standing, under the fluorescent lights, where literally anyone could see you.

“It’s late, no one is looking,” Chris replied, once again trying to dispute your rationale.

“Three, you’re an idol, a celebrity.  If someone caught you kissing someone it could be really bad for publicity.”

Chris quickly replied, “I revert to my previous statement, it’s late, no one is looking.”

“And four, most importantly, you’re far too young for me, and you’re almost like my little brot—”, before you could even finish your statement, he literally lifted his hand to cover your mouth.

“Don’t.”  He said firmly, and all you could do was stand there, blinking up at him in surprise at his bold move.

“I’m not the little boy next door anymore.”  Chris said quietly, slowly, trying to get his words to sink in.  “I’m an adult, and I know what I want.  And you aren’t my babysitter anymore.”

You tried to mumble something in protest, though nothing coherent came out with his hand still quieting you.

“No,” he said firmly, almost condescendingly.  All you could do was lift an eyebrow in surprise, still rendered silent.  

“You’re done talking now, my turn.”  Chris smirked, trying to playfully, yet sternly, get his point across.

“Y/N, I have had a crush on you for damn near the last twenty years and I’m finally presented with an opportunity to do something about it.  And who knows when I’ll get the chance to see you again, so please, stop trying to make excuses to stop me.”  He paused, searching your eyes for an understanding.

“So let me repeat myself,” he began again, purposefully taking his time.  “I am an adult, a grown ass man who is standing in front of the girl,” he paused, correcting himself,” the woman he’s dreamt about for years.  And if you think I’m going to let you ruin this for me for some stupid reason about you being barely older than me, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Do you understand what I’m saying here?”  Once again, all you could do was blink.  Your heart was in your throat, staring up at him with an unfamiliar tightness in your chest that was becoming more intense by the second.  Noticing your hesitation, he teasingly prodded you.  “Nod your head once if you understand.”

So you did, one short nod of your head, his hand still over your mouth and eyes boring into yours.

“Good.  I’m going to kiss you again now, and you’re going to let me prove to you how much I’ve grown up.”  He smirked, very hesitantly lowering his hand, bracing himself for you to try to reject him again.

You didn’t.  You were just frozen there, internally struggling with the way your body was involuntarily leaning into his while your brain was still trying to tell you this was a bad idea.

“Ok.”  You murmured, and without another second’s hesitation, Chris leaned back in to you, kissing you with more intensity than before.  His strong hand moved to the back of your neck, angling your head in the way he wanted it.  

Instinctively, your arms lifted and wrapped around his broad shoulders, pulling him in closer to you, parting your lips slightly in surrender.  Chris groaned softly against you, feeling you relax into him, and brought the tip of his tongue to your mouth, tasting the fresh mint from your toothpaste and a distinct sweetness he could only assume was just you.

Chris’ other hand slid behind you, finding the hem of your shirt, and cautiously placed his fingertips against the warmth of your skin just under your top, causing you to arch your back, pressing your chest against him.

The contact of his fingertips against the bare skin of your lower back, made you let out the softest whimper against his mouth, finally realizing that this was a completely different version of the kid you grew up with. 

No, this was a man and he wanted you, as evident by the slowly growing bulge that was pressing up against you.

The two of you stood there for a few minutes, lips and tongues intertwined, tentatively touching each other with a fervent intensity.  And when Chris finally leaned back, looking over your face and your plump, kiss swollen lips, he sighed deeply, arms still wrapped around you.

Finding his eyes again, you still couldn’t find any words to say, and stood there dumbfounded before he pressed his forehead against yours, his hand idling tracing your spine as he held you.

‘Fuck,” he whispered, leaning back again, looking both ways down the hallway in a clearly conflicted manner.  Turning his face back to you, he quickly leaned back in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.  “Give me like, five minutes.”

“...what?”  You asked as he pulled away, dropping his hands from you, leaving you standing there with a confused expression on your face.

“Five minutes,” he repeated, taking a step back, eyes still on you.  Letting a low groan rumble out, he drug his gaze down your body, and back up to your lips.  

Hungrily he closed the distance between you once more, boldly kissing you before he reluctantly took three steps back.  “Five minutes.”  He nodded before turning around and nearly ran to the elevator, disappearing into it once the doors closed.

You couldn’t do anything except stand there, wondering what the hell just happened.

Part 1 │ Part 3

[ariasakka]

Flames of Fate

Most of you followed me from my Viktor arcane smut…I have a feeling you won’t be interested in my Enji works so please just pretend you don’t see these ones thank you 😊

Your Fuyumi’s new work best friend you go to her house one night to drink and talk boys that’s when you meet her dad…

Female reader, age gap, daddy kink, size difference, smut with plot, fluff, etc

MDNI

Yeah so for some reason my Enji obsession always gets so bad when I’m ovulating…I had to give in and write Enji again for my own guilty pleasure. Hope you like the fic!

Fuyumi is 25, Enji is 45, you are around the same as as them in this story. (In my head y/n is 23-25 but you can make the reader whatever age you wish)

Song I was thinking of while writing “guys my age” by hey Violet

Fuyumi work’s at a hero day care. It’s nothing too special but it pays really good and it’s secure. Her dad gave her a good recommendation so she knows for sure they’d never dare fire Endeavor’s daughter.

She’s been working there since she was 20. Fuyumi went to college for about a year then dropped out. Enji didn’t mind as long as she was able to find a good job which she did. She hasn’t been able to make friends at day care because most of the women working there are far older and have little to nothing in common other than good cooking skills. That was until you started working there a few months ago.

Fuyumi was so happy to have someone close to her age working there with her! You are a bit shy so it took a few months for you guys to start being close. Finally you both got close enough for her to ask you over for drinks.

Fuyumi wanted to talk boy problems. She didn’t have anyone to vent to about stuff like this. She definitely couldn’t talk to her brothers about this sort of thing. You honestly found it amusing you had always thought Fuyumi was the innocent type you were eager to learn more about her.

Fuyumi had picked you up from your apartment to bring you over to her house.

When she had parked outside a massive house you were confused. You didn’t know she was Endeavors daughter. She doesn’t ever talk about her family aside from her brothers. You had thought she lived alone. You felt a little underdressed now. You were wearing a black fitted long sleeve shirt with a long skirt, still a nice choice but still.

You “Hey um, this is where you live?”

Fuyumi “Yeah! Sorry I forgot to mention. I still live with my brothers and dad! Though my brothers all live in school dorms so mostly just my dad.”

You “No worries. I now feel a bit underdressed for such a nice house haha”

Fuyumi “Don’t worry about it, you always look great y/n! If anything you always make me feel underdressed at work with all your natural beauty. Well here we are! Do you have any drink preferences?”

You “Nothing too strong I can’t handle alcohol that well.”

You both walk into the house. It’s absolutely beautiful and spotless. You wonder if her father hires a cleaner or if Fuyumi does this all herself. She leads you to the living room, it’s almost the size of your apartment. You can imagine she must get lonely being in such a big house all the time with her brothers at school.

Fuyumi comes back with a few bottles of wine and some glasses.

Fuyumi “Stealing some of my dad’s fancy wine tonight. But don’t worry he won’t mind. It’ll be just us for a while dad doesn’t get back till late.”

You smirk while pouring a glass “So…what are these so called boy problems you were so eager to tell me about mm?”

You both spend a few hours chatting about boys. Turns out Fuyumi had been sleeping with two men at the same time. They found out and now she doesn’t know who to choose. She’s considering being polygamous with them. So unexpected but you figure she needs some excitement in her life. After all working at a daycare isn’t really all that exciting even if they do all have quirks.

Endeavor had arrived back home from work earlier than his daughter expected. It’s around 7 she wasn’t expecting him till 10 especially since it’s a Friday. Fuyumi was laughing so loudly talking about the sex she had last night neither one of you heard Endeavor come in. He knew when his daughter was laughing so loudly she had to be drinking again. Enji knew whenever she drank she forgot to eat he wouldn’t let her go to bed on an empty stomach. Trying his best to Ignore the topic she was talking about he walked up to the living room and knocked gently on the already half open sliding door.

Enji teases “Fuyumi are you stealing my wine again?”

Fuyumi “Oh my god dad! I- I thought you’d be home later.”

Enji “Oh, hello, I am Fuyumi’s father. Sorry I didn’t know anyone else was here. I’m Mister Todoroki. Have either of you girls eaten? If not I’ll order something. What do you both want?”

As soon as he walks through the door you lock eyes with him. He’s the largest man you’ve ever seen. He looked so sexy and intimidating at the same time. Then when he opened his mouth, oh my god. You’d never known someone could speak that low. His voice had too big of an effect on you. You had to gently press your legs together hoping no one would notice since the table was in the way. You shouldn’t be thinking this way about your best friend’s father. She’d probably hate you if she found out. It’s even worse that both of you hadn’t broken eye contact since he walked in. You were desperately waiting for Fuyumi to answer. The only thing you wanted to eat right now was her dad.

Fuyumi “No not yet, Chinese takeout is good. Is that okay for you y/n?”

You smile and nod at Enji “Yes thats fine. Thank you sir.” before turning your gaze back to Fuyumi.

You were the first thing Enji noticed when he came in the living room. You were striking. He knew Fuyumi had mentioned making a new friend at work but he never thought she would be this breathtaking. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were smaller than most women. A little smaller than Fuyumi who was also already small. He wanted you to look up at him like that forever. Enji was going to call to get a pickup order but instead heads right out to get it himself. He needs time to wash those thoughts out of his head. It didn’t help the whole time he was gone he thought about how beautiful your hair looked. How cute your flushed face was when you weren’t expecting anyone to come home. He figured he just needed to get fucked. Though it hadn’t been that long since he had a one night stand. Something about you was different, more intriguing. It didn’t help that he knew he probably wouldn’t think anything was more beautiful than you. He shouldn’t be thinking about his daughters only friend like this.

As soon as Enji left the awkward tension left and the two of you got back to chatting as if he was never there.

Fuyumi “I’m sorry i should’ve told you who my dad was! I didn’t think he’d be home at all he usually works really late Fridays. I didn’t want you to just be my friend because of my dad a lot of girls in college used to talk to me only because of him.”

Oh, you hadn’t even realized it was Endeavor for a few minutes the only thing you could think about was how attractive that man was. He looked so different out of his Hero costume.

You “I guess it explains the house haha. It’s alright Fuyumi don’t feel bad for not telling me. I get it, I do. When I was younger both of my parents were drunks. They left me to fend for myself. I had to live out of random guys houses until I had enough money for my own rent. I never told anyone that because I knew they wouldn’t want to be my friend. They’d think I was too troubled. Some people found out in highschool and well let’s just say that’s the reason you’re my only friend right now.”

Fuyumi “I would never judge you for that. I’m glad we both know eachother better now. You could probably already tell but you’re my only friend too. I was so happy when you started working at the daycare!”

Fuyumi “So tell me about your boy life now, I’ve basically told you all of mine. It’s only fair y/n”

You “Well about those “guys” I used to live with in highschool. I guess those were sort of relationships if you want to call it that. I didn’t have any money so they asked me to sleep with them to “make up for it” I didn’t really enjoy it. None of them could make me cum but it was fine at least I had a roof over my head. Thank god for this job now. Pays for a decent apartment.”

Fuyumi had no idea why you lived in such a small apartment with your job. It was the size of her bedroom. Granted her bedroom was bigger than average and due to her dad being Endeavor she gets payed more than everyone else but she doesn’t know that.

Fuyumi “Very glad you have an apartment now. Were there better guys after that?”

You “Well I dated two guys after that who were our age. The first one, horrible in bed, and had such a major cheating problem. Fuck that many girls and you still don’t know how to make one finish? Funny because he was the one that left actually. The second guy was so sweet. I tried to like him I really did. I figured if I was with someone nice then I’d actually be treated well and able to finish for once. No luck there. He was so boring he couldn’t even make me laugh once. I felt bad because I knew he was a good person but after two years I just had to end it. I thought the relationship would get better as it aged but I only grew more tired. Recently I started talking to someone new. We aren’t dating yet. Still the talking stages. He can’t seem to remember a single thing about me though. He even called me the wrong name last night. But I’m bored so I guess I’ll date him. It’s not like there’s any other better men out there right now for me. Maybe he can be useful and go down on me. Speaking of, why are so many men so scared to do that nowadays as if they don’t shove themselves down our mouths not caring if we like it? So annoying!”

Fuyumi smirks “Can’t finish? I can give you some toys later to help with that. Maybe plastic can treat you better than a man.”

You “Fuyumi!”

You both laugh so loud after that. Both of you even more drunk now and unaware that Enji had been back to hear that conversation. He shouldn’t have been listening but he couldn’t help it. You seemed so sweet with the way Fuyumi always talks about you. You’re drop dead gorgeous too he couldn’t believe you’ve had such bad luck with men. Before he waits too long that someone awkwardly sees him he makes his way to the living room. He walks a little heavier so you both can hear him.

Enji “Hi girls. Here’s your food. Don’t drink too much you’ll make yourselfs sick.”

You were so embarrassed hoping he didn’t hear any of the conversation. Fuyumi was too drunk to care she started filling her face with the food immediately.

You “Thank you so much Mister Todoroki sir, you didn’t have to. I really appreciate the food.”

Enji “You’re welcome y/n, I hope you like the food.” He points to Fuyumi “Did she drink too much?”

You chuckle “Yeah i think a little.”

Fuck her laugh is cute

Why is he looking at me like that did I do something?

Enji “I’ll leave both of you be, I’ll be in my office if you need something.”

I hope I didn’t stare too long I don’t want her thinking Fuyumi’s dad is a creep.

A little while after eating it’s midnight now. Fuyumi was supposed to drive you home but she’s passed out on the couch now. You loudly stumble your way all to the front door. You’re going to call a late night cab once you’re outside. Enji hears the noise of your heels walking about. Right before you can open the front door you feel a strong heat radiating behind you and feel a hard push on the door. Oh fuck. Endeavor is standing behind me isn’t he. You look up and see his hand pressed against the door. You turn around to look up at his face. “I was going to call a cab sir-“

Enji “It’s far too late and you’re far too drunk to go home. We have spare rooms. I’ll make you a bed. Don’t try to argue I won’t take no for an answer. I know Fuyumi will be happy to talk more with you in the morning. Now let me show you to your room.”

Was he always this hot when he was stern? All you can do is nod and follow him. Just as you thought the house couldn’t get any bigger the upstairs was even more beautiful. There were so many rooms you wondered what they were all for. He couldn’t stop thinking about what you were telling Fuyumi about men. He should be more nervous to say anything but he feels like he has to.

Enji “I know it’s not my place but I overheard a little. A nice respectable young woman like you should not settle for awful men. You should drop that fool who can’t remember simple things about you. Y/n you can find much better.”

You “oh- I um. Thanks I will.”

You had just met did he really think that highly of you?

Enji “Here’s the bathroom. Please brush your teeth while I bring you something to wear to sleep.”

He would’ve got something of Fuyumi’s for you to wear but he wasn’t sure what clothes she was okay having borrowed. He got one of his sons old sweatshirts and instead.

Enji “Here’s a sweatshirt it should be comfortable enough for tonight.”

Without thinking you start to undress infront of him to put the sweatshirt on. He should really look away but you don’t seem to notice. You’re too drunk to care. He can’t bring himself to look away anyways. Your breasts look so soft. He could fit both of them in one hand. You’re even shorter without your heels on. And the sweatshirt, oh god. The sweatshirt goes down long enough that he can’t see anything more as you undo your skirt from under the sweatshirt.

You looked so small in it. It came above your knees. He wants to see what you look like in one of his shirts next. Maybe next time you sleep over he can lend you one of his.

Enji “I’ll wash your clothes tomorrow morning. I brought some of Fuyumi’s makeup remover too-“

You wine in protest “Ew no! I don’t want you to see me without makeup you already are seeing me drunk!”

Enji “Come on, don’t be bad. It’s not good to sleep in your makeup.”

The way he said that so sternly yet so calm is making you feel more wet than you want to admit. You immediately submit and grab the makeup wipes away from him to wipe off the makeup yourself. As you do you are a bit wobbly standing up, you feel so dizzy. Your reflection in the mirror is fuzzy from a mix of wine, makeup in your eyes, and tiredness.

Enji sits down and pats his lap. “Here let me. You’re too drunk. I’ll help you.”

You sit in his lap. He immediately praises you with a “good girl” thinking nothing of it. His touch was so warm. If only he knew what he was doing to you.

You’re soft, so small in his lap. Much smaller than his ex wife ever was. Fuck the thought of splitting your little cunt open on his cock..no wait why is he still thinking that. He can’t think that. Not about his daughter’s friend. Why did Fuyumi have to make friends with someone so tempting?!

Enji helps take off your makeup as you sit in his lap. The way he wipes it off so soft despite being so strong was surprising. It was nice. Maybe he’s helped Fuyumi with her makeup when she’s been drunk before or maybe..a wife? Fuyumi didn’t mention a mom, does she have a mom? Oh no if you’re feeling this way about your best friend’s dad AND a married man that’s awful.

Enji finishes removing your makeup. Fuck, I really didn’t think someone could be more beautiful without makeup he thinks to himself.

“You’re just as beautiful without makeup. Now, don’t drink as much next time please. It’s bad for your health.”

He gently brushes your messy hair with his fingers after setting the makeup wipes aside. You’re too far gone and sleepy to have any more self control over your words. You drunkly say “Why didn’t Fuyumi ever tell me her dad was so hot?”

Before he can even say anything like he would anyways he’s too stunned to speak, you fall asleep in his chest. He gently lifts you up and lays you down on the spare bed. He places some blankets over you so you won’t fall cold. He stays there for a moment watching you sleep. He questions your words. Could she really find me attractive? An old man like me, I’m a pro hero yes but women only ever want me for my wealth not my looks? Maybe if I touch myself tonight thinking of her I’ll get over it. She’s probably just drunk. Yeah that’s it, she’s just drunk. She won’t even remember it tomorrow. It definitely didn’t mean anything.

When he goes to his room he’s already hard. He touches himself to the thought of you. Little did he know it would only make him want you more.

When you wake up you shower before putting on the sweatshirt again. You go downstairs to see if Fuyumi is awake yet. When you go down stairs you instantly lock eyes with Enji in the kitchen. He’s sitting down drinking coffee. Somehow he seems hotter than last night. His hair is slightly damp from a shower you want to run your fingers through it. You don’t remember anything from last night after he started to take your makeup off.

Enji “Good morning. I heard you showering and made you some coffee. Fuyumi just got in the shower she should be out shortly with some spare clothes. Your clothes are outside hanging to dry.”

You take a sip of the coffee. Your head is aching. “Thank you Mister Todoroki and thank you again for letting me stay the night.”

You expected he would have Fuyumi wash your clothes. You think it’s sweet he took the time to do that. You wonder why she never talks about her dad when he’s such a gentlemen.

Fuyumi lended you some clothes to wear shortly after. You’re a different bra size than her so that was the only thing you couldn’t share of hers. Unfortunately for Enji he would be able to see your hard nipples perfectly in that tight sweater. The second he saw them he nearly choked on his coffee. You were too nervous to look at his face much with worry you’d get too obviously flustered so you didn’t notice much his gazes. Anytime you did notice you just assumed he was observing you and Fuyumi talking like any dad would. Fuyumi on the other hand noticed exactly what her father was choking at. She assumed it was just because he was more old fashioned. After all he did always used to make Rei dress proper when they were still together. She didn’t want to embarrass you by explaining to her dad why you were without a bra especially since you didn’t seem to notice he was looking so she decided to change the subject.

Fuyumi “Um dad. Have you eaten yet? I was going to start breakfest what would you like?”

Enji “You can make whatever you wish. I have some work to do so please put it in the refrigerator. Thank you Fuyumi.”

He quickly gets up and rushes off to his office locking the door behind him. He was suppressing himself from getting hard just long enough until he left the kitchen. Why were you having this effect on him? He’s not a teenager anymore. Once again he touches himself to the thought of you. It would be so fun to fuck you on his office table. Or even have you soaking on his cock while he’s working.

While Enji is away Fuyumi takes this opportunity to give you the sex toys she mentioned last night before making breakfast.

Fuyumi giggles “While dad’s gone come up to my room let me give you some things.”

You “Oh god girl why do you have so many?”

Fuyumi “Some guys I slept with before bought me some but since i already had so many I figured you could use the ones I haven’t opened. Can’t let them go to waste. Here I’ll give you a bag to hide it in so dad doesn’t see. Have you really never used them before?”

You “No but I guess it doesn’t hurt to try. Most guys got insecure anytime I even suggested them.”

You knew exactly what you were going to think about next time you used them. Maybe once you came to Mister Todoroki you’d stop thinking about him so foully and could get under someone else.

While the two of you are eating together Fuyumi says “So what did you think of my dad I know he can be a little intimidating.”

You “Well at first i thought he looked a little scary but I think he’s sweet actually. He helped me take my makeup off last night.”

Fuyumi “Oh good! I was worried you’d get scared and never come over again.”

You “Fuyumi definitely not even if he was awful you’re still my only friend and I’d still find a way to hangout with you.”

A bit later Enji walks up to the both of you. “Whenever you’re ready to go home y/n I can drive you.”

Fuyumi “Dad I-“

Enji teases “Don’t let Fuyumi drive you home when she’s hungover she’d end up driving you to a random house or getting my car crashed.”

Fuyumi “Finee dad. Well are you ready to go home then? I can text you a few dates I was thinking we could hang out next.”

You “Okay yeah, that’s great thanks.”

Enji walks away for a moment bringing back a coat. He gently places it over you. “Alright let’s go y/n. I’ll hold your bag.” It’s one of his coats he definitely did that to see how small you’d be in something of his. It did not disappoint.

You were expecting Fuyumi to come with you even though she wasn’t going to be driving. To your surprise she stayed perfectly still enjoying whatever she was looking at on her phone. She hadn’t thought about going with you not after you told her you thought her dad was sweet. You’re just hoping more alone time with her dad can help you find one ick about him. So you can stop thinking about your best friend’s father like this.

Unfortunately the more time you spend alone with him the more charming he gets. First he asked your music preferences for the ride back. Then when he saw how small your apartment was he told you a job at his agency was always welcome. Not just so he could see you more but also so his daughter’s friend could have a good life. He knows how caring she can be about people close to her for better or for worse. Then when he saw nearly all your light bulbs were either flickering or out in your apartment he changed them all without being asked. The second he left you immediately headed straight for the sex toys. How the hell was just thinking of him getting you off more than being with an actual man. You’re definitely cutting off that new guy you’re talking too, thinking about Fuyumi’s dad having his way with you is much better.

Enji comes back from driving you home.

Fuyumi “Heyy dad y/n called you sweet. Thanks for taking care of her last night. She’s my first friend I’ve had in a while. Most of my friends were usually scared of you. I’m glad she isn’t. She’ll definitely be coming over more.”

Oh she thinks I’m sweet? Could she be thinking about me too? No. No, definitely not. She’s just being a kind young lady.

Enji “All your old friends thought I was scary?”

Fuyumi “I- oh um- sorry! It’s just, you can be intimidating but I’m not saying it’s a bad thing it’s just-“

Enji “It’s alright I’d rather them not think I’m too inviting. I don’t want people all over me like they are with Toshinori. I’m glad you have a good friend now. Although I didn’t realize that job pays most of their employees so poorly her apartment is quite small.”

Fuyumi “Is it? I haven’t been yet but she’s told me about it. My pay is good…wait..that’s not because of you is it?”

Enji “I’m sorry I-“

Fuyumi “it’s fine, thank you dad.”

Fuyumi looks over at the clothing rack “Oh are those her clothes? Are they dry yet? I’ll text her to come get them tomorrow. You could’ve asked me to wash them”

Enji “It’s alright I didn’t mind.”

Mainly because he wanted to use your panties last night. Sucking on them while he got himself off. He could wash away any evidence of his own saliva on them himself. No one would know, no one would get hurt.

Tomorrow you come over to get your clothes. You’re expecting Fuyumi but Enji answers the door.

You “Oh hi Mister Todoroki, where’s Fuyumi?”Enji “She’s out getting groceries for this week she won’t be back for a couple more hours.”

You “Oh alright. I brought Fuyumi her clothes back too.”

She just loved leaving the two of you alone didn’t she. It’s so awkward being alone after you practically came to the thought of him last night. Maybe you should’ve told her you were scared of him. His bright blue eyes nearly blind you everytime you look at them. It doesn’t help that looking at the rest of him also makes you flustered as well too.

Enji “Your clothes are laying on the bed in the spare room upstairs. Fuyumi also left out a few clothes she didn’t want anymore on the bed too. I can discard whatever you don’t want.”

You follow him upstairs to the spare room. He stands behind you giving you space to look over the clothes.

You “Thank you again for washing my clothes Mister Todoroki.”

You bend over on the bed to fold your clothes, your skirt rides up a bit. Your thong is showing. Enji was going to do the right thing and look away until he noticed it was wet. You were soaking wet. You weren’t trying to be but the more he talks, the more you’re around him, the wetter you get.

You were wet. Did he do that? He groans quietly “fuck” oh he didn’t mean to say that out loud

You turn your head around “Sorry?”

Against his better judgment he says “Your skirt is awfully short. Paired with those panties as well? I can see how wet you are that’s awfully naughty. Did you do it on purpose?”

You “No! Sir I’m sorry. I just saw Fuyumi’s text this morning and I didn’t have anything else to wear I need to do laundry. It won’t happen again.”

Is he mad at me? He talks way too sexy for being so mad.

He shouldn’t go further but he does.

Enji “Do you want to feel what it’s like to cum?”

You “Mister Todoroki- What about your wife?”

Enji “Divorced. Yes or no.”

You should be saying no but the only thing that can come out of your mouth is “Yes please.”

He pushes your stomach back down on the bed harshly. Leaving you ass up forcing you to arch your back. “Good girl” he says before he rips your thong off completely. It took such little force for him to break the fabric it makes you weak. He uses the broken fabric to tie your hands behind your back. Who knew Endeavor was so kinky?

Enji “Fuyumi would hate me if she found out can you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut?”

You “Yes sir, I won’t tell. Promise!”

He moans so loud it sends shivers down your spine. Oh? Does sir turn him on?

He pushes your back to the bed harder making you arch. He puts two fingers inside you he knows with how tight you feel on him now you wouldn’t be able to comfortably take his cock but this is enough for him today.

You gasp forgetting how to breathe. You’re drooling onto your clothes. Two of this man’s fingers are thicker and longer than any dick you’ve ever had inside you before.

Enji growls “Fuck so tight for me! Let daddy rub your pretty pussy so you can take it better okay?”

Oh fuck, he likes a lot more than just sir. You whimper at his touch. You can tell he’s doing his best to be gentle. If you could take any more you’d be on your knees begging him not to hold back. You feel closer to cumming from his voice than you ever have from anyone or anything else.

Enji “Pretty girl likes when her pussy gets rubbed? I can tell you just opened up for my fingers so nicely. They’re all the way inside now. I can feel you pulsing all over them baby. Does it feel good, does daddy make your pussy feel good?”

All you can manage to get out in response are nods and soft moans. He suddenly increases the pace he’s rubbing your clit.

Enji “Be a good girl use your words.”

You “Yes, d-daddy it feels so good. I think I’m going to- oh my god.”

Enji “That’s it cum for me sweetheart. Let go for me.”

You’ve never came so hard in your life. He doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers despite your body shaking uncontrollably. Nobody will ever be able to satisfy you after this.

Enji “Say thank you daddy”

You “Oh fuck- thank you daddy!”

Enji “Good girl”

He licks his fingers clean. “tastey”

He grabs your ass spreading you apart before kneeling on the ground below you, eating your pussy out from behind. With his deep groans and thick tongue you’re so overstimulated you feel like you could cum again. He’s eating you out like he’s starved. It only took two minutes of Enji working your folds with his tongue for you to cum all over his face. The moans he lets out while lapping up your juices sound like he’s getting high off your taste. Your only hope is that Fuyumi doesn’t come home and walk in on this.

When he’s finished he grabs a warm towel to clean you up. Then unties your hands. He puts the broken thong in his pocket. What is he going to do with it?

Enji “Next time I want you stretched out on my cock. Would you be alright with that?”

You “Yes, Mister Todoroki I would be more than okay with that.”

He grabs your phone to give you his number. he puts his contact in as the letter E. He places his phone in your hand for you to do the same.

Enji “You can call me Enji outside of the bedroom, text me if you want to feel good again.”

I might make another part but I suck at being consistent so don’t take my word for it.

Chapter 2

https://www.tumblr.com/ariasakka/773827348723318784/flames-of-fate-chapter-2-things-with-you

Chapter 3

Notes:

Endeavor is such a guilty pleasure I need to sort the daddy issues out but i don’t want to. I hope you guys enjoyed! Sorry I know I’m not the best at grammar or spelling I hope you still like my works regardless. Comment down below any future endeavor fic ideas you’d like to see from me in the future.

Help?

I’ve resorted back to using apple notes to write all my work ahh. I was using google docs but people I know keep getting their accounts closed for writing fan fiction it was scaring me. Do you guys know any free things I could use to write on for my work? I was thinking about maybe trying word. Not sure if it’s good! I’m really bad with computers which is why I still use my phone haha. It’s so much easier to copy and paste my work than try to figure out how to use files or whatever. I need to start writing on the computer eventually though.

[bucks-babe]

hi!! i’ve had this concept in my head for a while and i love your writing style so i thought you would be perfect to ask. so reader is new to the compound, like helping out in the lab but not necessarily on the team, and because of that when she tries forming relationships with people on the team she’s kind of pushed to the side. bucky sees this and feels for her since he was kind of treated the same when he was new, so he starts becoming friends with her and building a relationship with her. then he starts involving her in things the team does like dinners or movie nights. and when they’re around each other the team can obviously see that they like each other as more than friends. you can develop it more from there but that’s kind of the base line for my idea!!

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Being new to the compound isn’t easy, luckily you have a supersoldier on your side

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, reader wears glasses (no other description of reader though), Bucky thinks reader is cute, Tony is kind of a huge dick, vague implications of smut but no smut (blink and you’ll miss it), I suck at endings, they are in love, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.780k

“Hey, uh, Glasses, I need you to run these samples for me.” You look up and see Tony walking into the lab, straight to your table. You look around, not sure if he was talking to you, but you’re alone in the lab, given that it was almost midnight, but you had to finish the reports from the samples that Steve dropped off in the morning.

You were swamped in work, not even taking a lunch break, desperate to finish everything so that you could go back to your room in the compound and take a shower. It felt like you’ve been stuck in the lab for days on end. The Avengers having back to back missions and you being the only lab tech without a family to go home to, you were stuck working insane hours.

“Mr. Stark, can these wait until the morning? I'm still working on the reports from Captain Rogers.” Tony heaves a great sigh, clearly exasperated by your reluctance to do his work, knowing damn well he can run these samples a lot quicker with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y. but he just doesn’t want to. Might as well make the overworked lab tech do it.

“The old man can wait until tomorrow for his report, just get mine done. If he has a problem, he can take it up with me. Goodnight, Penny.” And just like that, he walks off. You know for sure that he didn’t hear you correct him when he got your name wrong. Honestly, where did he even get Penny from? You’re so stressed you feel like you could cry, which pisses you off more. It made you feel weak when you would cry when you were frustrated but you couldn’t help it.

It's been like this since you got the job at the compound. At first you thought that this would be an amazing opportunity, getting to work side by side with the Avengers. In reality, you stay cooped up in the lab most of the day, getting overworked, and only see the Avengers when they stop by to give you more work. 

Of course, you understand that being a superhero is hard work, but a little courtesy goes a long way. It would be a nice change of pace if someone acknowledged your efforts. You push Steve’s reports to the side and start working on Tony’s samples, knowing that this is going to take all night, but you don’t really have a choice. It needs to be done and you’re the only one in the lab.

The sound of the door opening jolts you awake, a piece of paper stuck to your face with drool. “Hey, do you have those reports for me?” You groan and look at Steve. The clock on the wall reads 6:03 AM, ever the early riser, Steve is. You must have fallen asleep sometime last night trying to finish the work Tony gave you, which is just as incomplete as Steve’s reports.

“Sorry, Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark gave me an urgent request that needed priority.” You keep your head down, ashamed to look at him. 

“I gave you those samples in the morning. How are the reports not done?” He has his hands on his hips with the disappointed father's look on his face, making you feel even worse. You really are trying your best, but you’re burnt out and can't do everything at once.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have them done by early afternoon. I can drop them off if you’d like?” God, you feel so stupid! Steve just waves you off with a “I’ll come back after lunch for them” and leaves you to your own thoughts.

You get Steve’s reports done before lunch and continue to work on finishing Tony’s when the lab doors open again. Without looking up you slide Steve’s reports to him. “They’re done Captain Rogers.” 

“It’s not Steve.” You push your glasses up on your nose and see Bucky standing before your table, quite awkwardly as well, shuffling on his feet with his right hand in his pocket, left hanging down limply at his side.

“Sergeant Barnes, how can I help you?” You’ve always had a crush on Bucky, but he was the only Avenger who hasn’t come into your lab - ever. Matter of fact, he avoids the lab like the plague, which is understandable given that he was experimented on for years. 

“It’s my arm, I can’t move it.” After a few seconds of silence he adds on, “The metal one. Usually, I can recalibrate it myself but I think it has something to do with the plates.” He looks so vulnerable; Bucky’s not used to asking for help, rather always helping someone else.

“I can take a look at it if you want.” You assume that’s why he came down to the lab, not just to chit chat with you. He nods and you lead him to a lab chair. “Can you take your shirt off for me?” Bucky’s eyebrows hit his hairline and his jaw drops. “I need to see your arm, Sergeant.” Now both of you are blushing.

It takes him a little while but he gets his shirt off and stares at the floor, embarrassed of the scars surrounding his arm. “Can I touch your arm, Sergeant?” Bucky eyes widen; he’s not used to someone asking permission to touch his arm. If he doesn’t wear his gloves in public, people will stare and point, some even trying to touch his hand to get a better look at the silver arm. Bucky hates it: the arm, the stares, the scars, everything.

He mumbles a confirmation and watches you work on his arm. He thinks you’re cute, with glasses that make your eyes look slightly magnified and how you stick your tongue out when you concentrate. You’ve always hated your glasses, thinking that they make you look bug eyed, but Bucky thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. There are bags under your eyes, which makes Bucky frown. Stark is overworking you.

After a few minutes you look up and see Bucky staring at you and you both quickly look away. “One of the plates near your shoulder came loose and disrupted the signal to the rest of the arm. That’s why you couldn’t move it. It’s fixed now and you should be good to go, Sergeant.”

 Before Bucky could say anything, Tony enters. “Penn, those reports done yet or are you too busy with Terminator over there?” You ignore Bucky’s confused who’s Penn? and give Tony the finished half of his reports, hoping against hope that he won’t tear you a new one in front of Bucky.

“Uh, Glasses, where is the other half?” 

“I didn’t get to them all last night and then Captain Rogers needed his reports this morning. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.” Not only did you not finish Tony’s reports on time, but you were also late with Steve’s, on top of getting minimal sleep and not eating. The humiliation is seeping through your pores. You’re letting your idols down in real time, seeing their disappointment right in front of you.

“I told you to prioritize my samples, not Rogers.” Bucky is still in his chair, watching, ready to jump to your defense. He doesn’t like the way Tony is talking to you. Little do you know, but Bucky sometimes comes down to the lab to watch you work, never entering, God no. He’d look like a creep. But the sweet lab tech caught his attention the moment you arrived.

“I know, but I fell behind and Captain Rogers said-”

“I don’t care what Rogers said. I told you-” 

“Back off Stark, if you want them done, do it yourself.” Bucky was pissed; you are too sweet for your own good, letting people boss you around and bending over backwards for them. Not when Bucky is around.

Before Tony can continue to argue with Bucky, F.R.I.D.A.Y. calls him away for a meeting, leaving you and Bucky in the lab alone. “Sergeant Barnes, you didn’t have to do that. Those reports should have been done anyway; it was my fault.” How pathetic is it to have someone you hardly know see your faults.

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, doll. You’re only one person and you're doing your best.” He’s a lot closer to you now and you can smell his cologne, making your head feel all fuzzy. “Thank you for helping me with my arm, too.”

“Thank you for letting me, Sergeant, I know that was difficult for you.” You’re looking up at him through your thick frames, eyes larger than they actually are, bags under your eyes, but Bucky thinks you’ve never been prettier. Or maybe it’s because he’s never seen you up close, but you are the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, 40’s or not.

“Call me Bucky.”

After that, Bucky was in the lab almost everyday. For a while he would claim to have some strange ailment until you told him that he didn’t have to feign injury to visit, which made him blush. He would spend his lunch in the lab, making sure that you were eating, too. Bucky is a very observant man, and on his trips to the lab, before he first talked to you, he would see how overworked you were and how you barely ate. 

He made it his mission to keep you well fed and get you out of the lab at a decent hour, giving a death glare to agents trying to drop off samples after a certain hour. 

Outside of the lab, Bucky was your only friend at the compound; although, he’s never hand fed Steve in bed while watching old movies. Bucky felt comfortable around you, even more so than with Steve. Bucky and you had a special bond - he would confide in you when you would both be awake at the unholy hours of night and you would do the same. He trusted you not to tell anyone else and, to him, it was easier to talk to you than Steve.

Steve had a tendency to look at Bucky as if he was a sick puppy, and Bucky hated that, he hated the pity. He didn’t want to be treated like precious glass, and you allowed him to be vulnerable without making him feel like he was falling apart.

Some nights you both would fall asleep in bed together and wake up entangled, those nights were Bucky’s favorites. You were so soft and even though you were so much smaller than him, you made him feel safe and protected. His sweet doll in his bed, keeping the nightmares away. 

He loved the way you would squint and search for your glasses on the stand next to the bed, whining when you accidentally knocked them to the floor, or stabbed yourself in the eye trying to put them on. 

The entire dynamic of your friendship changed one night. Bucky doesn’t know who moved first, but the two of you kissed, and Bucky can’t remember kisses ever being so good. The two of you only kissed that night, nothing further, but it was the best night that either of you had in a long while. From that day on, he was your old man and you were his old lady.

You both decided to keep your relationship a secret for the time being. You didn’t want the other lab techs to think you were getting special treatment and Bucky didn’t want to deal with the teasing from Sam or the questions from Steve. But Bucky loathed when he would be forced by Steve to join movie nights, alone, without you. Steve wanted what was best for his friend so he would force Bucky to get out more; little did Steve know that Bucky had the best girl waiting for him to come over.

He could tell that you were let down whenever he had to participate in “team bonding.” You wanted to be valued by the team, yet you understood why they never invited you; you weren’t an Avenger, just a lowly lab tech. Nonetheless, it broke Bucky’s heart to see you so despondent, which is why he asked you to join the next movie night, team be damned.

“Come on, doll, it will be fun. I promise.” Bucky holds you close to his chest, laying down next to you under the covers. You roll over, naked chest to naked chest, body still shaking, and bury your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I’m not even a part of the team, Jamie. What will all your teammates think, huh? The great Bucky Barnes and the weird lab tech: A perfect match. No, they won’t.” Bucky gently grabs both sides of your face, both metal and flesh warm from previous activities, and makes you look him in the eye. 

He’s a little blurry since you aren’t wearing your glasses. The lenses would smush against your face everytime he would kiss you with anything more than a chaste kiss, and Bucky Barnes is a passionate kisser in bed. At your slight squint, he pulled you closer to his face so you could see him clearly; blue eyes holding nothing but the utmost love and devotion.

“I don’t give a damn what the team thinks, you hear me? You are my doll and I want to show you off. My sweet little lab tech who’s too kind for her own good. Let them all know how perfect you are.” Your resolve is crumbling like it does every time he looks at you. It is an overwhelming feeling, being the light of someone’s life, being showered with so much love you feel like you can’t breathe, but each breath fills up your lungs with joy and hope.

Bucky nuzzles his nose against yours and you both know you’ll say yes. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth, just as he would for you. “Okay, Jamie, I will, for you.”

Movie night is a week later and you’re on Bucky’s lap where he sits on the recliner. It’s his unofficial seat whenever Steve forces him to these things, stuck in the corner of the room away from everyone else with no seat next to him. At first, no one notices you on Bucky’s lap, curled up into him with tangled limbs not able to tell where Bucky begins and you end. 

Steve is the first to notice, doing a double take at the extra bulk in Bucky’s seat, and just as Bucky is observant, so is Steve. Steve had a suspicion that there was something more to Bucky’s disappearances during lunch and the extra food he would take after dinner. Steve just smiles to himself and faces the movie once more, every so often glancing back at the two lovebirds in their own world.

Bucky has no clue what movie they are watching, his sole focus is on you. You had a long day in the lab, yet you held true to your word to join movie night with him, but being curled up in Bucky’s arms was your favorite place to be and before long you were sound asleep, holding onto his metal arm, using it as a pillow. As gently as he could, Bucky took off your glasses and put them atop his head, falling asleep himself before the movie was halfway over.

Sam was the second to notice, and let the rest of the team know as well. “OH. MY. GOD. Tony, where is my phone? I can’t believe this.” The rest of the team look at each other in confusion, following Sam’s line of sight, they see you wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, the both of you sound asleep. 

“Is that…Glasses?” Comes from Tony.

“She’s so cute!” Slips from Wanda.

“Who’s Glasses?” is followed by a slap from Nat with a hissed “Thor, shut up, they’re sleeping!”

“Tony, my phone! I need evidence.”

“Terminator’s getting laid?”

“We’re watching Indiana Jones, Stark.” 

“Thor, inside voice, we’ve talked about this.”

The teasing from the team is endless the next day, but Bucky doesn’t have it in him to care, he has his sweetheart by his side and they know better than to provoke Bucky. Coincidentally, Tony offers to take some of his samples back to test them himself; Bucky insists that he must have had a change of heart, you don’t believe it for one second, but Bucky will never admit to anything. After all, he has to take care of his sweet girl. 

[kyemna]

Hazbin Hotel headcanons

TW: Mentions of sex and alcohol. some suggestive themes that's it, it's mostly just fluff.

(English isn't my first language)

Charlie

-Will do anything for you.

-you want flowers? Done. You saw a cute stuffed animal in the store front and you want it? You got it. Somebody harassed you on the streets and you want them punished? Let her take care of it. Normally she's against violence, but when it comes to protecting you? She'll do anything.

-will sing to you, all the time

-made a special song that she sings to you when you've had a bad day

-the best listener ever.

-will sit and listen to you talk for hours

-if she needs to get to work early, she'll make you breakfast and leave you a note that says something like:

-hi, good morning lovely! I hope you sleep well.

I had to leave early.. something happened at the hotel while Alastor was away, and they needed me.

See you 2night, i love you:)<3

-i think her love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

Angel Dust

-whisper's provocative things to you during meetings

-definitely a physical touch kind of guy.

-Will cling to you at the most random times

-keeps Valentino as far away from you as possible.

-tries his best to keep his relationships hidden from him as well

-if you'd come home after a long day, he'd give you a massage

-is super funny, tell me otherwise.

-has a high sex drive, and is pretty kinky due to his job.

-so expect him to ring you up at the most unexpected times.

-PS. Don't put him on speaker when you're in public..

Vaggie

-was pretty cautious around you in the beginning, but slowly warms up to you

-once she's comfortable, she tells the wildest stories and acts them out for you

-if you don't know how to fight, she'll teach you

-if you do know how to fight, you guys spar all the time

-jealousy issues, and you can't tell me other wise.

-she hears someone talk to you in a tone she doesn't like? Glare. Someone low-key flirting with you? Glare. If looks could kill.. she will actually kill them though, so..

-not super experienced in bed, but she's open to suggestions

-once she finds something she likes/is comfortable with, she askes you for it all the time

-a "words of affirmation" and "acts of service" girl for sure

Alastor

(i am perfectly aware he's ace, but these are scenario's for if he wasn't, don't come for me)

-now, Alastor is a great dancer.

-he has great music taste too!

-listens to 1940's and below.

-i think he's mostly into Jazz and Classical music to be honest

-i do think Amy Winehouse and Dave Brubeck are his exceptions when it comes to listening to 1950's and above

-somehow always knows where you are..? You often see his shadows follow you, so that's probably why

-kills for you. Also because he has a thirst for blood, that needs to be satisfied. So that's 2 birds with one stone

-holds doors open for you

-just a general gentleman

-loves it when you wear dark red, dark blue and dark green

-it can be anything. Lipstick (just red though), a hat, a dress, heels, etc.

-expects you to respect his personal space but doesn't respect yours LMFAO

-gift giving and physical touch

Husk

-knows all your favorite drinks

-loves to dance with you

-also a Jazz person, but I don't think he'd mind country music to be honest

-once he secretly took a picture of you.

-he thought you looked so good, he keeps it in his nightstand.

-doesn't really talk about his problems/feelings, but prefers it if you do.

-respects your boundaries more than anyone.

-you don't wanna talk? He'll kiss your forehead, and leave you alone.

-you don't really like being touched? He'll always ask first.

-other than making amazing alcoholic drinks, he makes great coffee too!

-quality time and physical touch.

It's been quite a while since i've written something, so I apologize if there's any grammar mistakes or sentences that just don't make any sense LOL

Thank you for reading!