#three's company fanfic

[potatoplace]

Three's Company

Cassian x Reader x Azriel

kinktober day 3 | threesomes, spitroasting

kinktober '24 masterlist | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: You come home to your roommates after a terrible date, and they offer a sympathetic ear. And maybe some sympathetic touch, too.

Warnings: smut, uhhhh smut

Words: ~2.2k

Author's Note: here it is, day 3 of kinktober! I'm happy I got this out lol it was a bit of a struggle, work tired me out. But enjoy some nice smutty Az n Cass! I hope you guys like it!

18+ only pls

🤍❤️🤍💙🤍

“I can’t believe this,” you sighed as you fell back onto the couch, right between your two roommates.

“What is it, Y/N?”

It was Cassian, sitting to your left who asked.

You sighed again. “You know that guy I was seeing?”

“George, or something, right?” Azriel asked from your right.

“Yeah… We went out again tonight, and things were going really well until we got back to his apartment.” You fell forward, pressing your chest to your knees and your head in your hands.

“Did he try something?” Azriel asked, his voice low, almost irritated, if you had to guess.

“I mean, technically yes, but I wanted him to. It’s more what he didn’t do that was the problem,” you said, still bent over yourself. “Like, I went down on him without him even needing to ask, but when I asked if he would eat me out…” You bolted upright, covering your face with your hands as your face turned crimson. “I’m sorry, that was probably way too much information.”

Two gentle, giant hands rubbed your back soothingly.

“Not at all, sweetheart. I’d like to know just how much I should glare at the man if I ever run into him,” Cassian said.

“Keep going, you had more to say, right?” Azriel asked, his hand on the back of your neck now, gently rubbing out the tension.

“Just… He refused to eat me out, said that it’s disgusting for me to even ask… And then I still…” You sighed once more. “We still had sex but he came after like, a minute. How fucking pathetic is that?”

“Sweetheart,” Cassian said softly, his arm wrapping tightly around you, bringing you into his side. “What an asshole. You deserve so much better than any of that.”

Azriel’s arm joined his, and then you were being squeezed between the two men, both of them placing a kiss on your head.

“I think I have an idea to make you feel better,” Azriel suggested.

You dropped your hands to your lap and turned your head to look at him, his blazing hazel eyes meeting yours. “And what would that be?” You asked quietly.

Azriel’s eyes left yours and looked over your head for a moment before locking eyes with you again.

And then two hands wrapped around each of your thighs, hauling each to rest between two thick, strong legs, spreading you wide open.

“I’ll offer you a deal, kitten,” Azriel started. “If we can make you cum harder and more times than any of those crappy guys you’ve a dating over the past six months, you date us.”

Your breath hitched in your throat- were they serious?

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Cassian asked lowly, his lips by your ear, and you shivered at the feeling.

“Mm…” You bit your lip, considering their offer as their fingers drummed on your inner thighs, small licks of heat accompanying their touch. “Yes,” you breathed, and that was all it took for their hands to start moving.

Cassian’s moved to take off your top, while Azriel’s slid beneath your skirt, brushing against your bare cunt- you had forgotten to grab your underwear before booking it out of George’s apartment.

“Naughty little kitten,” he whispered in your ear before dipping a finger inside of you, humming in satisfaction when he found you wet already.

Cassian pulled your top over your head and off of your arms, tossing it to the side. His arms wrapped around you, hands immediately moving to cover your breasts, squeezing them and testing their weight. His plush lips kissed along the expanse of your throat, drawing a quiet whine from your lips.

Azriel had moved his finger, coated in your slick, to rub small, slow paced circles on your clit, and you knew then that you would be dating them, one way or the other.

After all, how common could it be to find two incredibly attractive men who wanted to give you pleasure at the same time?

Cassian’s hands kneaded your tender flesh, thumbs rolling over you nipples in time with Azriel’s swirling finger on your clit, heat building quickly in your core from their touch.

“Feeling good so far, sweetheart?” Cassian asked in your ear.

You nodded in agreement with your eyes closed, moaning out a soft “Yes,” your breath hitching when Cassian squeezed your right nipple tightly.

Azriel stopped his movements, removing his hand from your center altogether, and you whined in protest, eyes still shut. He moved your leg that was over him setting it back down on the couch. There was a quiet squeaking noise, and your eyes flew open in the next second when something warm, wet, heavenly wrapped around your clit, eyes making contact with Azriel’s as he sucked on your clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, one hand latching on to Cassian’s thigh, the other fisting in Az’s hair. He laughed lowly, sending pleasurable vibrations through your clit and you squirmed in their grasp.

“Hold still, princess, be good for Az, hmm?” Cassian ordered gently, his arms keeping you in place as Azriel moved from your clit to your soaked hole. “Can you do that for us?”

“Mm-” you groaned, nodding your head a moment later. “Mhm.”

“Good kitten,” Az said softly, his gaze meeting yours when he lifted off of your core for a moment before returning his attentions to your clit.

With just a few precise licks and two fingers inside you, you shattered in Cassian’s arms and under Azriel’s tongue, your back arching as Azriel’s thick fingers drew out your pleasure.

“Such a good girl for us, Y/N,” Cassian murmured in your ear as you came down, his thumbs rubbing a soothing pattern on the underside of your breasts. “Do you think you can stand, sweetheart?”

With the way your legs were still shaking, even with Azriel’s hands no longer touching you, you didn’t think you would be able to.

“No…” You admitted quietly, and Azriel’s lips split into a grin at your words- a true rarity for him, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Want me to carry you, princess?” Cass asked, not waiting for you answer as he slid your leg off of his and stood, an arm hooking under your knees and the other supporting your back as he lifted you into his arms.

Your arms flew around his shoulders, and you giggled when you saw Az with a slight pout. “Be faster next time and you can carry me, Az.”

“Is that a promise, kitten?”

You bit your lip as you looked at him, then nodded your head.

There was no way you could go back to being just friends with the two of them, even if you stopped what you were doing at this very moment.

“Good, now let’s get you into a bed, hmm?” Cassian said, already walking in the direction of your bedroom. Azriel opened the door, letting the two of you pass through first before he joined you.

Cassian gently set you down on the edge of your bed, then knelt at your feet and began taking off your shoes, which you had forgotten to do before sitting down between them earlier. Azriel was already stripping off his clothes, his shirt first, then his belt, and he had just unbuttoned his jeans when Cassian’s touch drew your attention again.

“Stand up, princess, unless you want to be fucked in your skirt.”

The offer was tempting, but you wanted to feel their skin against yours, anyplace that you could. So you stood on shaky legs and rested your hands against Cassian’s broad shoulders as he tugged the skirt down over your hips to pool at your feet, sitting back down when his hands pushed your hips lightly.

“Get on your knees for us, kitten,” Azriel ordered when he reached the edge of the bed, his hard cock bobbing in the air.

He was big.

You did as he asked, getting on your knees and facing the end of the bed. At least, you assumed that’s how they were wanting you.

“Look at that, Az, she takes orders from us so well already,” Cassian praised, and your cheeks flushed further, if it was possible. Both from his words, and the fact that he was naked now too, and his cock was even larger than Azriel’s.

“Thank you,” you said breathily, and they both smiled at you.

“So polite, too,” Azriel murmured, running one of his thumbs across your cheek. “Where do you want us, kitten?”

“Oh, uhm… I’m not sure.”

Cassian stepped closer, his own hand tangling in your hair. “Do you think you can swallow my cock? Or would you rather I fuck you with it right now?”

You licked your lips, sizing up the girth and length of him. “I… I’m not sure I could fit you in my mouth,” you said sheepishly.

Cassian smirked in response. “We can try some other time, princess. You heard her, Az.” He walked to your right and kneeled on the bed behind you, spreading your knees apart with his legs, and you fell forward onto your hands at the change in position.

Azriel moved to stand right in front of you, his cock close enough for you to lick now, if you chose to. You peered up at him through your lashes, and he let out a soft groan.

“Such a pretty girl,” he cooed at you as he stuck a thumb in your mouth, smirking when you swirled your tongue around it and sucked. “Are you ready for us, kitten?”

You held his gaze as you nodded, frowning when his thumb left your mouth with a slight pop.

“Open up, kitten,” he said, fisting his cock in one hand as the other gripped your hair lightly. You could feel as Cassian lined the head of his cock up with your soaked entrance, waiting for Azriel’s signal.

A shiver ran up your spine, one of anticipation.

You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around Azriel’s cock, letting him push in a couple of inches, and that’s when Cassian pushed into you, slowly, oh so slowly.

The stretch of him was overwhelming, the delicious feeling of pained pleasure overtaking you as Azriel commanded your mouth, setting a slow but steady pace for the moment.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so damn tight,” Cassian hissed as he pushed further in, nearly fully seated now. You moaned loudly around Azriel’s cock in your mouth, causing him to hiss in pleasure.

“You should feel her mouth, brother, it’s the best I’ve ever felt. And you’re taking me so well, little kitten,” Azriel praised as he ran a thumb over your cheek. “Do you think you can handle me picking up the pace?”

You nodded as best you could, what with him in your mouth and his hand in your hair. He smiled down at you and moved his hand to join the other in your hair, holding you in place.

He did as he said he would, moving faster in and out of your mouth, a pace that Cassian matched, each one of his strokes hitting you in the perfect spot- over, and over, and over, driving you closer and closer to the brink with each movement.

And there, in the moments that they filled you at the same time, you found utter bliss, lost to the freedom of giving yourself over to the two men, the way that they carved a space for themselves inside of you.

Cassian’s fingers slipped over your clit in fast, small circles, and you fell over the edge, your cries muffled by Azriel, still occupying your mouth, sending him over the brink as well, spilling his seed down your throat with a long, low moan that had you clenching around Cassian again.

Cassian was the last to fall, the grip of your cunt squeezing his climax from him, and he gave a few last, triumphant pumps before pulling out of you, watching with a satisfactory look in his eyes as a bit of his cum dribbled out of your hole onto your bedspread.

Azriel pulled out of your mouth and let go of your hair, only to rush forward as your arms and knees gave out and you collapsed into his arms in a giggling heap on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Azzie, I couldn’t hold myself up anymore” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your bare chests together.

“What the hell you guys, come back up here,” Cassian whined, scooting to the edge of the bed so he could look at the two of you. “I need some post-sex cuddles too, if you don’t mind.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “Come down here, then, you big baby.”

“Yeah, Cassie, c’mere,” you murmured, already snuggling into Az’s warm, warm body. “Bring a blankie too.”

Cassian sighed in feigned annoyance, but crawled down onto the ground anyways, pulling your comforter off the bed as he went. “Only for a little bit, and then we actually get in bed, okay?” He said as he spread the blanket over the three of you, his arm slinging over your waist and hand resting on Azriel’s.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed as Azriel muttered, “You’ll be the one who won’t want to move in five minutes, Cass.”

“No I won’t,” Cassian said, but yawned a moment later. “… Fine, maybe I will.”

You giggled into Az’s chest. You might have just had amazing sex with the two of them, but they were still the same goofballs you knew and loved.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff

[simplyholl]

Three’s Company

Summary: While on a mission, a mysterious substance makes you incredibly horny.

Pairing: Loki x Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Threesome. MMF. Sex Pollen.

See my Masterlist Here

You knew you’d made a mistake as soon as you left the boys behind. Loki and Bucky were teasing you about how you had gotten captured so easily on the last mission. It was a sore subject for you, and you didn’t want to talk about it.

You walked faster down the dark corridor, turning quickly into the first room on your left. They called after you to wait for them. You should have listened. The door slammed shut behind you, the lights coming on as the ceiling sprayed a red foggy substance on you.

Your mission partners rushed to the room as soon as they heard the door clang shut. They could see inside through the small square window in the center. They made it in time to see you duck down, attempting to shield your face from the assault.

They yelled for you, Bucky’s vibranium arm pounding against the door. The door swings open, both of them running inside, the red fog surrounding the three of you. Loki was the first to grab you when it cleared. Both of them checking you out from head to toe. “What was that?” Bucky asked, concern etched on his features.

“I’m not sure.” You almost whisper. “I think it was just a scare tactic. I feel fine.” They nodded in agreement. Everything seemed to be normal. When they were sure that you were okay, they continued the mission. On the way home, you called Bruce letting him know what happened. He said he would look into it, but you didn’t have any symptoms. So he put it at the bottom of his to do list.

An hour after you made it back, you felt like you were on fire. You were thirsty, your skin tingled, and you were extremely horny. You tried taking care of it yourself, but it made it worse. You thought about calling Bruce to tell him your symptoms, but it was embarrassing. You didn’t know how you could look him in the eye tomorrow after telling him you were the horniest you had ever been.

You decide to go down to the kitchen for an ice pack when you hear noises coming from inside Loki’s room. You stop in the hallway, walking over to his door, you press your ear to it. You hear Loki moan. You have to admit, you’re jealous. Had he figured out that you can’t get rid of this ache by yourself? Or did he already have plans with someone tonight? After another moan fills your ears, your panties become unbearably wet.

Curiosity gets the better of you. You know it’s rude to just barge in, but you can’t help it. You turn the doorknob hoping that it’s unlocked. Luckily, it turns. You let yourself in, closing it quietly behind you. You freeze when your eyes land on the hottest thing you have ever seen. Loki is sitting on the edge of his bed with Bucky knelt between his legs.

Loki’s fingers are tangled in Bucky’s hair as Bucky works him with his mouth. Loki looks up when he hears you gasp. “We were wondering when you would join us.” He smiles, throwing his head back as Bucky takes him deeper. You walk over to the bed. “You need a partner for the cure, or partners.” Loki winks. “We figured it out only moments ago.” His grip on Bucky tightens as he spills down his throat.

You felt like you were going to burst into flames. “Get on the bed.” Bucky commands, wiping his mouth with the back of his flesh hand. You quickly rid yourself of all your clothes before laying down. Both of them hover over you like predators. You’ve never felt so small. Bucky latches onto the sensitive skin on your collarbone while Loki rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Bucky kisses gently up your neck, nipping at your jaw before lowering his mouth to yours. He kisses you hungrily. When his tongue meets yours, you taste Loki. You moan, pulling him closer to you trying to savor it. You suck his tongue, your hormones going into overdrive. What was that red substance? Why did it have you acting this way?

Bucky breaks the kiss to lay beside you. “Sit on my face, doll.” You lower yourself onto him, his metal arm wrapping around your waste to keep you in place. Loki kisses down Bucky’s stomach, stopping at his cock. His tongue swirls around the head before closing his lips around him. He bobs his head, as he takes him to the back of his throat.

Bucky’s moans vibrate against you as he sucks on your clit. You aren’t sure where to look. Bucky looks so hot, fucked out underneath you. But Loki swallowing Bucky’s dick is unbearably sexy, so you focus there. Loki’s eyes shine mischievously when he notices you watching him. His hand on Bucky’s hip tightens as his nose brushes Bucky’s patch of dark curls.

Bucky licks at you, but you can tell he is too distracted to get you off. You don’t mind, you’re enjoying the show. Loki sucks his cheeks in, his hand rubbing the back of Bucky’s thigh. Loki inserts a finger into Bucky, sucking for all he’s worth. You feel Bucky tremble beneath you as he shatters for Loki.

Loki releases him with a pop, his attention now on you. You remove yourself from Bucky, hoping one of them will take pity on you and get you off. You feel faint, the fire like symptoms are almost too much. Loki gets on the bed, you notice he and Bucky are still hard. You shouldn’t be surprised, one is a god and the other is a super soldier. Plus, whatever you all had been infected with had to be assisting in that department. You were used to two pump chumps who finished and rolled over, snoring before you could get your vibrator out of your bedside table.

“I’ll have to take care of you since the soldier couldn’t do his job properly. He seemed awfully distracted.” Loki jests, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. He settles between your legs as Bucky tries to defend his self. Loki bites the inside of your thigh, smiling wickedly as he gets closer to where you need him. You almost jolt off the bed when his tongue descends on you for the first time. Bucky lines himself up behind Loki, fucking into him. Unlike Bucky, Loki’s attention doesn’t falter. His talented tongue sweeps and glides, you writhe underneath him.

Bucky’s flesh hand is on Loki’s shoulder while his metal arm is wrapped around Loki’s torso. You watch as Bucky thrusts into him, the sound of skin slapping and ragged breathing filling the room. Loki licks your clit upward, closing his lips tightly around it. He suckles you as Bucky finishes inside him. You wrap your legs tightly around his head, his mess of curls falling on your stomach and thighs. One last flick of his talented tongue sends you soaring.

Your symptoms subside, but you still feel the heat threatening to come back. Loki must be in the same situation, he lays on his back, motioning for you to ride him. You hop on, hands gripping his shoulders. Bucky sits beside Loki looking exhausted. “That’s it, doll. Take all of him.” Bucky encourages you as you roll your hips, Loki uses his grip on you to set the pace.

You lower yourself over and over again. Loki’s cock hits the right spot every time. It was delicious, the way you fit together, Bucky singing your praises, the way Loki looked at you while you were riding him. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Loki tilted his hips, the angle sent both of you over the edge. When you were finished, any trace of the illness was gone. You lay cuddled together, limbs tangled, enjoying the moment.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @megharat-barnes-reid @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid

[space--daemon]

fifth-absorbs-the-ninth!au from abigail's perspective as she slowly realises that a) the ninth is being run by half a dozen pensioners and a traumatised preteen; b) the only other preteen on the planet is apparently both their indentured servant (bad) and the first preteen's emotional support chew toy (bad??); c) the cavalier primary is a great poet and a terrible cavalier (sidenote: abigail would fucking LOVE ortus did you sEE her husband??!?!); d) this place is haunted as FUCK including by a vengeful milf; and e) these children need a parent ASAP

cut to abi and magnus trying to surreptitiously adopt the two most feral children they've ever seen without spooking them and also ortus

[fallloverfic]

Okay... you got me. They're cute.

(Screencaps from the trailer for the upcoming series Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix, featuring the apparent protagonist, Dolph Laserhawk and his canonical boyfriend, Alex Taylor, whom Ubisoft describes as "the love of his life").

Also Tokyopop is doing the comic adaptation and dang the cover art by Bayou Kun "for the "boys love manga adaptation" - iOS

(Though as a disclaimer, I wouldn't recommend buying this, it's pretty bad)

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! This chapter is dedicated to @malarkgirlypop as a reward 💕

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: none I think? swearing maybe?

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter twenty three: May I Have This Dance?

Living an ocean away from her family and home town wasn’t as difficult as Birdie thought it would be. She had already been away from them for over a year, she’d celebrated Christmas, the New Year of ‘43 and her twentieth birthday away from the people she had shared her entire life with. 

Moving to Aldbourne, England felt meager in comparison. 

Due to limited space, the women of the 506th 2nd battalion were made to share barracks with the men in their platoons. There were around twenty to thirty cots set up in each round barn-like building. There were also no specified women's showers or toilets, so escorts were somewhat needed again. 

When Easy company was made aware of the new sleeping arrangements, the men of 2nd platoon took it upon themselves to set Birdie up in the corner of the room, nearest to the door. Toye insisted he take the bed next to the woman, while Bill claimed the one opposite to her.   

The first night with her new roommates was the hardest.

Bed time came around and the men in her barracks began stripping off as they usually would. The woman averted her eyes, choosing to stare at the ceiling and study each mark and line. As she gazed upwards, Birdie realized she, too, would have to change her clothes in front of all the men. 

“You okay, Little Bird?” Bill spoke, noticing her fidgeting hands and the way she bit her lip, she most definitely had something on her mind. 

“Uhh…” Her eyesight flicked to the man addressing her, then when she saw his bare chest her vision went straight back up. “Should I- I mean…uh, D-Do I just change here…or…?” 

After that little encounter, Toye and Guarnere hung a couple of sheets up to section off a corner giving Birdie a smidge of privacy while she changed. 

When Birdie was finally ready to curl up in her new bed and sleep, the snoring started. Sleeping alongside the men was more difficult than she imagined. 

Bernadette wasn’t really a morning person but she usually functioned well enough. When she woke, the first morning in the men's barracks, Birdie felt like shit. The constant snoring kept her up and every time she was close to falling asleep, a particularly loud snort would wake her. 

“Good morning, Little Bird.” Luz chirped at her sleeping figure. Birdie groaned out as a reply, unable and unwilling to answer with words. He laughed at her and tried again to rouse the woman, but she only swatted a hand in his general direction and pulled the blanket over her head. 

“Come on, Birdie. You’ll miss breakfast.” George sign-songed, attempting to appeal to her.

“Fuck off.” She mumbled at him, adding a “Leave me ‘lone.” for good measure. Luz didn’t seem to get her message as he kept trying to wake her. At last, fed up with his persistence, she sat up, pushing the covers off of her and letting them fall into her lap. 

“Ah, there she is! You-”

“I am going… To. Kill. You.” Bernadette cut him off. She did not want to hear his voice this early after such a shocking night with little sleep. George just grinned at her threat and the glare stuck on her face.

“Well, someone’s not a morning-oof.” Birdie threw her pillow directly at him, successfully shutting him up. 

—------------------------

Being in England meant Birdie could now legally drink, with no repercussions from Lipton or Johnny. And there were more pubs here than she could count. Since she didn’t see the girls every day anymore, they all agreed to make an effort to meet at a previously chosen local pub every saturday night. 

This week's meet up was at the ‘King’s Head’ and Birdie was excited. All she wanted was to sip on some whiskey, maybe have a dance or two and chat with her girls. 

She was wearing her class A’s with the pencil skirt, stockings and heels. Birdie put on her signature ‘night out’ red lipstick and let her hair down in voluminous victory rolls. She shared a cab with Toye and Guarnere, who refused to let her pay the fare. 

When the trio arrived at the drinking establishment, she ran ahead and bought the first round to repay them. While the men complained at her sneaky little gesture, they didn't refuse the alcohol, finding an empty table and sitting to chug the first drink of the night. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” The unmistakable voice of Blythe Alderidge sounded from behind Birdie. She grinned into her drink before turning to face the woman.

“Oh, I see they let just anyone in nowadays.” Her joke was well received by the three women who stood with Blythe. They all smiled, exchanging hugs and pleasantries. 

“Lucy and Betty couldn’t make it.” Frankie informed, drink already in her hand. When did she have the time to order that? 

“Next time.” The ladies took over the table, catching each other up with the events of the week. They yapped and laughed for what might’ve been hours, until one brave British lad approached the group. 

“Good evenin’, ladies.” He puffed up his chest and spoke confidently, eyeing up Birdie specifically, “Might I steal a dance?” He was staring at her, arm reaching out to her as an invitation. It took Birdie a second to realize he was waiting for her answer. She was about to politely decline, before she could get the words out, Charlotte answered for her.

“Of course you can…” she gave her friend a shove, “right, Birdie?” Smiling sweetly while throwing Birdie to a wolf. Her jostling had pushed Bernadette towards the stranger and to balance herself she had grabbed onto his outstretched hand. He took that as her accepting his request for a dance and led her to the area designated for bogeying.

“Birdie? What a beautiful name.” The man spoke up, his accent made it hard for her to understand him as he talked so fast.

“Oh uh… thank you.” She needed another drink if she was going to have to put up with this small talk. He spun her once, bringing her closer when she twirled back to him. Birdie noticed his not so slick move and was not impressed. 

“What an accent… where are you from, love?” Her head tilted at the nickname.  

“Mississippi.” She paused, then remembered how conversations worked, “And, you? Are you from around here?”

“Me? Nah, I'm from London.” He told her before spinning her yet again. After that the conversation dulled down and Birdie began to feel uncomfortable. The man let his hand slide down the curve of her back ever so slightly, but Birdie still noticed. 

When the song concluded, the mystery man offered to buy her a drink. While that was exactly what she needed, she found herself trying to come up with an excuse.

“I should probably check in with my girls.” Birdie took a step away from him, praying he would get the message and that she wouldn’t have to elaborate. 

“Oh, okay, I'll come with you.” He stepped in her direction, smiling. Birdie's shoulders sagged,  she really didn’t want to be rude to this guy, he hadn’t done anything wrong, she just wasn’t feeling it and wanted to spend time with her friends. 

“That’s okay. You don't have to do that.” She was doing her best to shake him. She didn’t even know his name, did he seriously think this was going well?

“I want to-” The British man was interrupted by an American voice, one Birdie recognised.

“Take a hint. She’s not interested.” Liebgott stood nearby, smoke hanging out of his mouth. His posture was nonchalant, like he was trying too hard to look cool and it made Birdie giggle, which gained the attention of both men. One smirked at her and the other glared.  

“You what, mate?” The stranger straightened his stance and stepped towards Joe, who didn't move at all, completely unfazed.

“She’s obviously trying to get rid of you.” Lieb explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“Are you?” Birdie’s brief dance partner looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Well… I was trying to be polite.” She winced, she really was trying to spare his feelings but he was persistent. 

“See?” Joe smirked, inhaling his cigarette and exhaling into the man's face. This only seemed to piss him off, Birdie could see an upcoming altercation and positioned herself closer to the two men, in case she had to break something up. 

“Why don't you shut your mouth, stupid fuckin’ yank.” Both Birdie and Joe dropped their jaws, though Lieb covered his reaction. This guy had nerve. Bernadette was at her limit, she didn't appreciate him barging in on her precious time with her girlfriends, she hated the stupid small talk and he was a shitty dancer. And now, he was insulting her friend. That was enough.

“Excuse you?” Her pitch went up, “You don’t get to talk to him like that! Who the fuck do you think you are?” He had upset her and now she had the urge to fight him. Where was Frankie and her knife when she needed it?

“Whatever,” The Brit started to walk away, but very quietly (not quiet enough though) he muttered under his breath, “A whore like you ain’t worth it.” 

He didn’t take another step. It was only a second after he uttered the words and he was falling to the floor. Lieb had swung in record time, hitting the man with such force that he toppled to the ground. 

Bernadette moved closer to Joe, grasping onto his forearm firmly, letting him know that was enough. He had done his job of protecting her honour and now they could leave the poor guy on the floor. Joe seemed to silently understand this as he turned and the pair made their way away from whoever that guy was. 

“Thanks.” Birdie spoke once they sat down, “For hitting him.” 

“No problem. He shouldn’t of called you that.” Joe was shaking his head, disgusted with his gender. 

“It’s fine, I-“

“But it’s not.” His tone was angry but not at her. He was just angry, angry that she was about to say she was used to it. Joe had met a lot of women and, while he didn’t love the word, some of them would be classified as whores. But not Birdie. She was too kind, too funny, too pretty, too sweet, too stubborn, too intelligent to be considered a whore. She spent all day around men, living, eating, training with men and not once had he seen her flirt. 

“No it’s not.” She could tell his anger was stewing inside that brain of his, she took it upon herself to try to calm him,  “Not really, but that doesn’t change the fact that he said it. It’s no use letting some jerk like that ruin our night.”  

Liebgott let her words sink in. ‘Our night’ she had said. Our. Me and you. Us. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Joe spoke before he could stop himself. He just wanted to be alone with her, where no one could steal her away for a dance while he watched helplessly. He wanted to talk to her without having to compete for her attention. 

“Sure. Just let me tell the girls, okay?”

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed x

~ Nex ~

Chapter twenty four

[lightdancer1]

Wrote up my AU's equivalent of Seeing Red:

Now I will also note that this AU uses a bit of an episodic/Quentin Tarantino-ish framework to emphasize that unreliable narrator effect on the one hand......and this is an AU that opts not to have Willow save Tara (hardly a spoiler) but she gets to save herself and have some fun being like that Audible series' magnificently hammy evil version in the process of doing so.

[sleep-deprived-person]

So apparently KOSA (2024 edition) is getting either thrown out until next year or put into effect in six days. That was a guesstimate based on a different person saying that's when Congress is back in session and may be false.

Update that's going in the main post at the top: it has enough support to pass Congress.

It failed the last two times because people were voting against it.

This time, KOSA has traction among the pro-LGBTQ parties. Because nobody is fucking calling their bullshit and screaming from the rooftops that calling it the "Kids Online Safety Act" is misleading.

What will it passing do?

Nothing much, only prevent any education on LGBTQIA+ (it's that stupid fucking argument about us grooming kids again), shut down nearly every fandom space on the internet, and make it required for most big tech companies to have your ID.

Want to have resources for kids to discover their identity readily available? Yes? Then fucking speak up against this stupid fucking bill.

Fandom spaces like Tumblr, Twitter (? I thought the MAGA assholes liked Musk?), Tiktok, Archive Of Our Own, and any other website that hosts fanfic or fanart? Either shut down permanently, forced to uproot to a different country and down for a while (best case scenario, and they likely won't be able to send any data, and therefore fanfics, to the US), or gutted so that you only get to put G rated cishet ships on there, if any shipping at all. How to avoid that? I've already said it: Call your fucking representatives.

Want to avoid the fucking dystopic task of being legally obligated to give big tech your government issue ID? Again, cause an uproar. Call your goddamned representatives.

If they can pass this, the ripple effects could be catastrophic.

So, for fuck's sake, any Americans that can impact this stupid fucking bill and see this? Do everything in your power to shut it down because you have until February twenty sixth (26th) to send this bill back to where it belongs.

And if you can't do that? Reblog, copy my tags, and boost the signal.

Sorry not sorry for ranting, making you scroll through that, and swearing a probably excessive amount, but KOSA is a bill with a GLOBAL IMPACT being passed by ONE COUNTRY because some old people are scared of two guys with who were told they were girls kissing within five hundred miles of a child. Fuck this shit, I shouldn't have to worry about bad bills in America but I fucking do because I use the internet and would like to avoid mass censorship. Fuck this, fuck conservatives, and fuck the fact that some boomers make your country's policies.

Now, if you won't mind me, I'm going to be up until three in the morning downloading fanfiction or copying and pasting them into a a text file if I can't so I can read them by the end of the week.

[xinganhao]

💘 fake dating seungkwan.

☆ Breaking: SEVENTEEN's Seungkwan Confirms He's In A Relationship [BREAKING] 30m ago

Boo Seungkwan of SEVENTEEN confirms that he's currently dating someone. This comes on the heels of Dispatch reports that Seungkwan is involved in a romantic relationship with an actress.

Seungkwan's agency, Pledis Entertainment, has confirmed the idol's relationship status. "Seungkwan is seeing someone with positive feelings," the agency says in a statement. "We hope that you will look warmly upon their relationship."

Congratulations to the couple!

Listen to SEVENTEEN's newest mini album 'SPILL THE FEELS' here.

COMMENTS • 204 COMMENTS

r/kpop • 3d ago donquix0tes

'Fake dating' contracts?

i swear i'm not just in denial about bsk's dating news (LOL) but i heard rumors that 'fake dating' exists in the industry, especially between actors/actresses - idols??? they said it's this whole underground thing so the actors get more traction, the idols get more streams. is this real or is it just stuff you see in fanfics 😂 i'm asking because i can be a bit gullible lmfao

↑ 30 ↓ 🗨 12 ↷ Share

Contract No. 052615PROFESSIONAL SERVICES AGREEMENT

THIS AGREEMENT made and entered into this 28th day of SEPTEMBER 2024 by and between BOO SEUNGKWAN, hereinafter called IDOL, and [YOUR NAME], hereinafter called ACTRESS for a FAKE DATING ENGAGEMENT.

A. IDOL and ACTRESS agree to engage in a fake relationship for the intents and purposes specified under I: RATIONALE, which by this reference is incorporated herein.

B. This Agreement shall take effect on OCTOBER 28, 2024; contingent upon prior approval to the agencies of IDOL and ACTRESS. The Agreement shall end on MARCH 31, 2025, unless earlier terminated or extended by contract amendment.

C. IDOL/ACTRESS may terminate this Agreement for its convenience any time, in whole or part, by giving the opposing party fourteen-day (14-day) written notice thereof.

NEXT PAGE ⟶

seungkwan updates @boosadanfiles seungkwan at the recent christian louboutin event 🥹 in the caption of the post, he said @yourusername was his date! 🗨 191 ⟳ 1.8K ♡ 5.9K

´◡` ꗃ @yourusername lucky to be doing this with a friend. you make it easy, @hit_thekwan. — Jeju-do, South Korea 🗨 1 ♡ 3

🍊 ꗃ @hit_thekwan Replying to @yourusername we still have three more months 😆 don't give up on me yet

From: Boo Seungkwan <boo.seungkwan98@gmail.com> To: You <yourname@gmail.com> Date: March 31, 2025 Subject: so..?

this e-mail is being written right after my meeting with my company, but right before i text you lol. i'm going to schedule send this for the end of our contract so this is actually going to be a letter from seungkwan of the past 👻 don't be spooked! hehe

jokes set aside, i don't know what the next couple of months will look like. i understand why this is being done. you need the publicity for your drama... we have our cb... bla bla bla. it's all the usual stuff in this godforsaken industry

honestly, when i first got approached with the idea of faking a relationship for the group's benefit, i was 10000% ready to say no. but. i found out who it was going to be

and i just thought, like, okay. we already know each other. we're friends! and i guess i just wanted to make sure things would be easy for you, too. bc you deserve someone who will understand you, who will help you and be there for you through something hellish as this

so here's some promises i'll make you, even though you won't see them until much later lololol: i promise to be THE best fake boyfriend there is!!! i'll be cooperative, i'll play the part. i'll try to make sure this arrangement doesn't feel like work (even though it is), and when it's too much, we can run away to jeju for a weekend (just kidding) (or am i?)

by the time you get this, you'll know whether i got to do all that lol. make sure to hold me accountable ok!!! if i wasn't a good fake boyfriend, then show me this and i'll get you a meal, your choice. if i was a good fake boyfriend... well, that was the goal 🤞

i feel like this is already getting super long, so i'll end it now. i'm going to text you to see what you think of the arrangement. hopefully, you're fine with it, or else this would all just be a waste of writing lol. see you, fake girlfriend :)

forever yours, your bf-to-be seungkwan 🍊

p.s. this is the embarrassing part so i'm burying it in the very bottom 🤷 but i also hope that this whole thing will give me the courage to say what i really want to, which is something like

p.s.s. they didn't have to contract me to date you. i would've done it on my own accord. i would've done it for free.

p.s.s.s. i was ready to do all of it, only because it's you

[creamflix]

PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 1]

summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.

content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, mentions of depression and alcoholism, angst, slow-burn, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto, choso kamo, yuuji itadori) - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman!choso fanfic

word count: 6,203 words

notes: and the award of best liar goes to.....in my defense i needed a break from all the smut writing, so please! please, enjoy the first official chapter of an impulse project. there will be multiple parts to it, so worry not! and please, grill me in the comments. get as critical as you can get, i need the advice. thank you for reading!

masterlist

"you’re fuckin’ shit at your job! pathetic, you hear? if i see you here ever again, god so help me, you’ll never find another job again."

those words still echoed in your mind. sukuna's sneer, the disgust that dripped off every syllable. that day, three years ago, you were swiftly replaced, just another disposable pawn in his empire. it wasn’t that you lacked skills. in fact, you were precise, efficient — everything a good secretary should be. but no one could keep up with him. sukuna’s fiery temper was like a storm you never saw coming. always brewing, always on the verge of eruption. the minute you faltered, even slightly, he was there, leaning over your desk, barking down at you like you were nothing.

the flashbacks always left a sour taste in your mouth, but you weren’t the same cowering woman anymore. back then, the memory of his cruel words had left you teary-eyed in the restroom stalls, wiping away mascara smudges and biting back sobs. but after you left, you swore you’d prove him wrong. you refused to be just another forgotten casualty in sukuna’s warpath.

and now, you had your own wine company.

persephone.

sukuna found the name laughable at first, but the numbers? they didn’t lie. your brand was making waves, quickly becoming a sensation in the high-end wine scene. it wasn’t just some trendy label either — it had substance. the quality was undeniable, and the industry was taking note. especially his industry.

“fuckin’ ‘persephone,’ huh?” sukuna muttered under his breath, leaning back in his sleek office chair. he was alone, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest, his expression unreadable. “she’s really givin’ me a run for my money now.” he chuckled, but it wasn’t from amusement. it was that low, dangerous sound he made when something — or someone — was starting to piss him off.

he was the king of the alcohol game, dammit. ryomen had become a powerhouse in just four years, dominating the market with everything from vodka to rum, sake to whiskey. his brand wasn’t just a name; it was a status symbol. people flaunted his bottles like designer bags. you had ryomen on your bar? you were in a different league.

but lately, his sales were dipping in a very specific category. wine. your wine.

“you’re tellin’ me,” he grumbled, looking at the sales report, “that some chick i fired is takin’ a bite outta my profits? unbelievable.”

his current secretary, a polished woman with the demeanor of a robot, stood nearby, silent. she knew better than to interject when sukuna was simmering like this.

“it’s just wine, boss. nothing we can’t —”

“shut the fuck up,” he snapped, cutting her off. “i’ll tell you when it’s ‘nothing.’ right now, it’s a goddamn problem.”

his thoughts raced. part of him hated the fact that you were even on his radar again. you, the same woman who used to flinch when he raised his voice, the one who could barely get out an apology without her hands trembling. he could still remember how you’d stammer through excuses when he’d tear into you for something as simple as a typo in an email.

“god, she was useless,” he muttered to himself, leaning forward and running a hand through his pink hair. but then, a frown crept across his face. useless… or just unlucky enough to work under him?

he shook his head. no, he wasn’t going down that road. feelings, regret, all that emotional bullshit — none of it mattered. it only got in the way of the goal. sukuna was focused, driven, and nothing could pull him off track.

except maybe you.

he hadn’t dwelled on it much back then, too busy building his empire. but now, here you were, with your fancy brand and your goddamn ‘persephone’ label, threatening the wine segment he’d dominated for years.

“she must think she’s somethin’ special,” sukuna muttered under his breath, a smirk playing on his lips. “bet she’s struttin’ around now, huh? all high and mighty.”

he could imagine it — you, standing in front of a boardroom, confident, assured, looking down on everyone the way you probably thought he’d done to you. but that wasn’t going to last.

he rose from his chair, walking over to the window of his penthouse office that overlooked the city skyline. night was starting to fall, and the lights of the city below twinkled like stars.

“well, brat,” he said quietly to himself, voice low and dangerous, “you better enjoy it while it lasts. ‘cause when i’m done with you, you’ll wish i never fired you in the first place.”

he smirked at his own reflection in the glass. maybe he’d underestimated you back then. maybe he’d been too quick to write you off. but that didn’t change the fact that he was going to crush you now.

and this time, he wouldn’t even need to raise his voice.

saying that you were fucked was the understatement of the century.

the alcohol industry? you picked it on purpose — almost like tempting fate itself. it started innocently enough, with your last paycheck crumpled in your hand, drowning your sorrows in ryomen wine — the same wine you used to grab for sukuna when he’d bark orders at you. you swore you could still hear his voice every time you cracked open a bottle. the sharp aftertaste didn’t help, either. you switched to other brands when your wallet allowed: cloudy bay sauvignon blanc, stags' leap cabernet sauvignon, anything that felt like an escape from his shadow. but your funds ran dry faster than you expected, and soon enough, you found yourself back at your mother’s place, sulking like some NEET loser who couldn't face the real world.

and sukuna? that scumbag was true to his word. not only had he fired you with no remorse, but he made damn sure no one else would touch you with a ten-foot pole. rumors spread fast, and he made sure every single one painted you as the problem. you couldn’t get a job to save your life. so, you hustled. babysitting, tutoring, walking dogs — you did whatever you could just to scrape by. but it was humiliating, feeling like you were clawing at survival while your old boss sat on his throne, sipping his overpriced sake and not giving a second thought to you.

the worst part? you craved a drink. every time you got a little extra cash, you were tempted to blow it on just a bottle of something — anything — to numb the exhaustion. but your mother’s concerned eyes on your gaunt face made you stop. she was already worried enough.

then, one night, as you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone in your cramped childhood bedroom, you stumbled across a buzzfeed article: "how to make your own wine in ten easy steps!"

it was absurd — who the hell makes wine from scratch? but you clicked it anyway. the gears in your brain started turning as you read it over. step by step, you memorized every detail. the next morning, you raided the supermarket like a woman possessed, stuffing your cart with grapes, yeast, and whatever else you could get your hands on. you were going to make your own wine, because if you couldn’t afford it anymore, then screw it — you’d just make the damn thing.

you spent hours in the kitchen, your hands moving frantically, following the recipe to the letter. and somehow, against all odds, the first batch tasted… good. like, really good. your mother, usually uptight about everything you did, even cracked a rare smile when she tasted it.

“this is actually delicious,” she admitted, setting the glass down. “you should bring some to my gardening club next week. the ladies would love this.”

it was a small suggestion, but it lit a fire in you. making those first few test bottles for her friends? it wasn’t just a distraction anymore. it was the first real sense of purpose you’d felt in months. and when they praised it — truly praised it — you realized this wasn’t just a hobby. this was your way out. your way to rewrite the script that sukuna had burned into your life. you weren’t just going to survive. you were going to live.

what you didn’t expect was for your little wine experiment to become such a big hit. 

the ladies from your mom’s gardening club practically lost their minds over your creation. they praised your "natural talent" for winemaking, showering you with compliments and, more importantly, money. they insisted you make more, some even handing over cash in advance just to guarantee their next bottle. you were floored. you could practically hear the sound of money flowing in as you eagerly took order after order, working day and night in your makeshift wine lab — your old side hustles as a barista and a dog poop scooper long forgotten.

now? you were a businesswoman, and damn if you didn’t love saying it. your mom did too. she proudly bragged about you to anyone who would listen. whenever someone asked that tired, familiar question — "what’s your daughter been up to these days?" — your mom would light up, puffing her chest with pride as she told them all about her daughter’s successful wine venture.

time blurred as you threw yourself into your work, orders coming in steadily, and with them, a steady income. it wasn’t long before you had enough to take your mom out for a nice dinner — your treat. the look of pride on her face when the waiter handed you the bill? priceless. you didn’t even feel the pull to drown your sorrows in alcohol anymore. sukuna’s wine? fuck that. the high you got from creating something that people loved, the thrill of turning your passion into profit — that was better than any drink could ever be. but, of course, ambition is a funny thing. once you start getting a taste of success, you start wondering — what if i could get higher?

that’s when suguru geto crash-landed into your life. literally. 

one day, his car broke down in front of your house, a random stroke of luck that led to something unexpected. what started as a quick fix turned into a fast friendship, and in just a week, you went from being casual acquaintances to best friends. turns out, suguru’s aunt was part of your mom’s gardening club, so you two started seeing each other more often, and he quickly became your biggest supporter.

“you know,” he said one afternoon, lounging on your couch, “you should make this a real thing.”

“it is a real thing,” you laughed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“no, i mean like — patent it. sell it in supermarkets. let the whole damn world know about you.”

his words struck a chord in you. you stared at him for a moment, your mind spinning with the possibilities. could you really do that? could you take persephone to the next level?

“i don’t know, sugu,” you murmured, biting your lip. “that’s a lot of pressure. i mean, i’m doing fine as is —”

“fine?” he cut you off, grinning. “you’re thriving. don’t sell yourself short. you’ve got something special here, and you know it.”

his confidence in you was almost overwhelming. it made you wonder — what if he was right? what if this little wine brand of yours wasn’t just a side gig anymore, but something bigger? something that could rival even the big names like… ryomen.

the thought sent a chill down your spine. sukuna.

no. this was your time. your success. and this time, it was on your terms.

your confidence, once sky-high, was quick to deflate as reality hit you like a brick wall. how the hell were you going to get the money to start? you weren’t exactly rolling in cash, and even with all the orders you had, it wasn’t enough to cover what you needed to expand. you were, in every sense of the word, still a nobody in the business world.

sitting on the couch, your mind raced, spiraling through all the worst-case scenarios. that’s when suguru, ever the calm one, leaned back casually and smirked.

“honey, you forget,” he said, shooting you a knowing look, “my talent is breathing money.”

your eyes widened. “you’re seriously gonna fund this?”

“why not?” he shrugged, the confidence in his voice unwavering. “i know you’re serious about this, and i’d rather bet my money on you than anyone else. plus,” he added with a grin, “this is gonna be fun.”

his belief in you left you speechless, and soon after, your mother chipped in too, offering up what she could. “you’ve got something special here,” she said softly, her eyes shining with pride. “we both believe in you, and you know what you’re doing.”

with their help, you pooled together just enough to get things rolling, investing everything accordingly. you finally gave your company a name — persephone. it felt like a declaration. this wasn’t just a passion project anymore; it was your shot at proving yourself, at rewriting the story that sukuna tried to burn into your life.

you managed to get your first stock sent out to the supermarket you used to work in, thanks to your old manager who, having tasted your wine himself, vouched for it without hesitation. he agreed to stock your goods on a trial basis, just to see how the public would respond. you sent the stock out tentatively, crossing your fingers and hoping against hope that you could sell out, just maybe.

you spent that afternoon waiting for a response, nerves gnawing at you, until exhaustion pulled you into sleep. you weren’t prepared for what you’d wake up to.

when you blinked awake, the first thing you saw was your phone screen flashing — seven missed calls from suguru and three from your manager. panic gripped you as the worst thoughts raced through your mind. what if something went wrong? what if people got sick from your wine? what if —

you quickly dialed suguru back, your heart hammering in your chest.

“y/n!” his voice came through, excited, breathless. “you’re not gonna believe this. your entire stock? sold out in four hours. people are demanding for more! even the other supermarkets are calling in, asking for you!”

you blinked, the words not fully sinking in. sold out? your whole stock? your mind spun as you processed what he was saying. a rush of disbelief and euphoria flooded your senses all at once.

“i — what? are you serious?”

“dead serious,” suguru chuckled. “this is just the beginning, y/n. your life’s about to change, and fast.”

and in that moment, you knew — this wasn’t just a lucky break. this was it. your life was about to change forever, and sukuna? he wasn’t looming over you anymore. you were about to loom over him.

all of this was just one year ago. persephone blew up like dynamite, becoming the “it” drink with gen z practically overnight. people everywhere dubbed it “the hot girl drink,” and it spread like wildfire on social media. celebs, influencers, and even rappers were endorsing it — rihanna, beyonce, hell, even international actors from countries you never thought would give you the time of day. your pet project had turned into a full-blown empire, something you never even dreamed of. the insane part? it wasn’t just a fad — it was here to stay. persephone was the new, unbeatable champion of the wine industry, holding the number one spot for the entire year. nothing — and no one — could touch you.

market experts were scrambling to crack the secret behind your success. every business magazine, blog, and analyst was pouring over the data, trying to figure out how the hell a tiny, unknown brand could rise to the top so quickly. when forbes asked you to explain it, your response had been simple:

"all you need is a little bit of love in the mix. that's why everyone loves us."

love? bullshit.

sukuna scoffed, slamming the magazine down on his desk as he glared at your interview in the newest issue of forbes. his eyes burned with frustration as he scanned the glossy page, your face plastered on the front cover — forbes, of all things. he remembered when he was the one on the cover. and now it was you, alongside some other guy, suguru geto, your so-called "business partner." his hands fisted the edges of the magazine as he forced himself to read through the article, bile rising in his throat.

"fuckin’ love," sukuna muttered under his breath. "what a load of crap."

what really pissed him off wasn't the fact that ryomen wines had dropped to number two in the market. no, they were still crushing it in vodka, rum, and sake — dominating, even. sukuna still smugly held onto that victory, and in truth, ryomen's other sectors were thriving. but it wasn’t about the numbers.

it was about you.

you, of all people, had stolen his top spot. the quiet, cowering secretary he’d dismissed without a second thought had somehow clawed her way up to rival him. beat him. and that, more than anything else, was what grated on his nerves. it was like a personal insult, like every bottle of persephone on the shelves was a slap to his face.

he didn’t understand it — couldn’t wrap his head around how you, someone he once considered nothing more than a weak, insignificant nuisance, had built something this big. this powerful. it was unthinkable.

but it didn’t matter. because if there was one thing sukuna hated more than losing, it was losing to you.

“get ready,” he muttered, tossing the crumpled magazine into the trash. “this ain’t over.”

he wasn’t about to let you bask in your victory for long. oh no, sukuna never did well with defeat, and you were about to learn exactly what that meant.

sukuna’s sundays were always a mixed bag when his brothers came over. on the one hand, he secretly enjoyed not being alone, the house filled with chatter and energy he rarely allowed himself to admit he missed. on the other hand… they had their quirks, quirks he didn’t always have the patience for.

today was no exception.

“oii, nii-chan!! is it true you’re cooked?” yuuji’s loud voice rang through the kitchen as he leaned over the counter, his face full of boyish excitement. at eighteen, fresh out of high school, yuuji was all energy and enthusiasm, completely missing the tension in sukuna’s glare.

“we are not cooked, brat. now scram!” sukuna growled, his patience already wearing thin. it wasn’t that he didn’t like yuuji; he loved the kid in his own harsh way. but today was not the day to bring up the one topic that had been gnawing at him for weeks now — persephone.

yuuji, of course, remained completely oblivious to his brother’s thinly veiled rage. “dude, we need to try it out — for sampling purposes, of course!” he corrected himself quickly when sukuna’s eyes darkened, the older man’s low growl sending a shiver down his spine. choso, standing quietly by the side, let out a silent sigh of exasperation that went unnoticed by both of them. as the eldest brother of the three, choso was used to playing mediator between sukuna and yuuji’s endless energy.

“talking about that cheap wine in front of your brother? seems like choso here isn’t teachin’ ya manners, brat,” sukuna scoffed, throwing a sharp glare at choso. but choso wasn’t fooled by the display — he knew sukuna well enough to recognize the silent plea in that look. sukuna wasn’t just angry; he was frustrated and on edge, and right now he needed choso’s help to avoid losing face in front of their younger brother.

choso, ever the calm and rational one, stepped in smoothly. “sukuna’s right, yuuji. why don’t we try some of his wine instead? ryomen’s pretty coveted, you know. you can even tell your friends you’ve got the inside scoop on the best stuff,” he suggested, his voice soft and persuasive. he knew yuuji’s weak spot — flexing on his friends — and wasn’t above playing that card to steer the conversation away from persephone.

yuuji’s eyes lit up at the mention of flexing to his friends. “yeah, that’d be awesome! ryomen’s, like, top-tier,” he agreed quickly, the previous excitement over persephone fading as he eagerly darted toward sukuna’s personal bar.

“but only a sip!” choso called after him, his tone firm but affectionate. yuuji grinned and gave a thumbs-up, too eager to care about the warning.

as soon as yuuji was out of earshot, sukuna’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though his scowl remained. “thanks,” he muttered under his breath, leaning against the kitchen counter with a scowl that barely concealed his relief.

choso merely nodded, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “you should really tell him what’s bothering you, sukuna. pretending it’s not a problem won’t make it go away.”

sukuna’s jaw clenched at the suggestion. “i’m not pretending anything,” he shot back. “just not giving that cheap wine any more attention than it deserves.”

choso didn’t argue — he knew better than to press sukuna when he was like this. but even as they heard yuuji clattering around in the bar, talking excitedly to himself about the bottles he found, choso couldn’t help but wonder how much longer sukuna could keep up this front before the tension snapped.

soon enough, sukuna bid choso and yuuji goodbye, grunting a half-hearted “good luck” to yuuji for his academics and giving a curt nod to choso. it was their silent agreement to continue taking care of yuuji, a bond forged through the ups and downs of their unconventional family. deep down, sukuna wished his brothers could stay longer, but he knew his work environment would be more chaotic than conducive to yuuji’s growth. the kid needed some normalcy, a chance to be a teenager without the weight of sukuna's world pressing down on him.

choso had that normalcy. he had a simple job and quiet life waiting for him back home, something that balanced him out in a way that sukuna hadn’t found in years. as he watched them leave, sukuna couldn’t help but wonder what life could have been like if he hadn’t run off at twenty-seven, leaving his twenty-two-year-old brother to shoulder the burden of raising a thirteen-year-old yuuji all by himself. it felt like a dick move, something no older brother should do. but he’d made up for it in his own way — by rapidly building a name for himself in the alcohol industry, ensuring his brothers were taken care of.

the weight of those thoughts pressed on him as he closed the door behind them. he had sent ample money back to support choso and yuuji, ensuring they lived comfortably and never struggled. yuuji’s education had never been compromised, and sukuna took a twisted sense of pride in that. everything he did — every deal struck, every bottle sold — was silently for them, though he’d never admit it out loud. they knew, though. they understood the sacrifices he’d made and the lengths he’d go to protect them.

leaning against the closed door, sukuna let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. the house felt empty now, the echoes of yuuji's laughter fading away. but he was used to this emptiness. it was part of the job, part of the life he’d chosen. yet, as he glanced at the bottle of ryomen wine sitting on the counter, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind grew louder. persephone was thriving, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than just a business — it was a challenge, a direct competition that tugged at his pride.

he shook his head, pushing away the thoughts. no need to dwell on that right now. there would be time to strategize, to find a way to reclaim what he’d lost. for now, he had work to do, deals to make, and a reputation to maintain. but the tension lingered, a constant reminder that the game was far from over.

every business professional and their mother had heard of the forbes awards — one of the highest honors in the industry, recognizing outstanding achievements in categories like innovation, leadership, and entrepreneurship. it was a big deal, and of course, sukuna was invited. how could he not be? he was the face of ryomen, and ryomen was synonymous with him. it would have been a moral sin to overlook his presence.

but alongside him, in a stunning twist of fate, you were invited as well. your heart raced with excitement as you entered the grand hall, arm in arm with suguru, who wore his usual calm demeanor. the ambiance was electric, filled with murmurs of anticipation and the soft clinking of glasses. you felt like you were floating, clad in the prettiest gown you’d ever worn, the fabric hugging you in all the right places. your excitement bubbled over as you and suguru chatted animatedly, sharing whispers and laughter about the event.

sukuna sat a few seats ahead of you, his presence commanding attention even before the ceremony began. he glanced back at you and suguru, his brow twitching in annoyance. that bastard, he thought, irritation prickling at his nerves. was he annoyed because you were here, or because you were here with suguru? who the hell does he think he is, cozying up to you like that?

he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the stage as the lights dimmed. why the fuck does it matter? sukuna knew he should be above this, above whatever twisted emotions were gnawing at him. but it was hard to shake the feeling that your success was a direct challenge to him. persephone had blown up like a wildfire, and now here you were, practically glowing next to some random man.

the announcer’s voice boomed, echoing through the hall as the first award was presented. sukuna’s mind raced. everyone in this room is waiting to see me win. his heart pounded as he thought about the years of work, the sacrifices he made to build ryomen into what it was. these people need to remember who the real titan in the room is.

he couldn't help but steal glances at you, laughter dancing on your lips as you leaned into suguru’s space, that smile of yours bright enough to rival the stage lights. you think you’re some kind of star now, huh? the thought twisted in his gut. you don’t know what it took to get here.

as winners were announced, the crowd erupted in applause, and sukuna forced himself to smile politely, though inside he was a storm. you’ll never be more than a little brat who got lucky, he told himself. and yet, here you are, basking in the glory that should have been mine.

with every name called, the tension in sukuna grew. he could feel the eyes of the room shifting between him and you. they’re waiting to see what i do next, he mused, resentment and determination colliding within him. they think this is the peak. they have no idea what’s coming.

the night was still young, and the real competition was just beginning.

“and this year’s forbes most innovative company award goes to — y/n l/n & suguru geto for persephone!”

you sat there dumbfounded, too shocked to move, even as cheers erupted around you, your name being called echoing in your mind like a beautiful melody. suguru was beside you, his excitement contagious as he urged you on, “y/n, we won! go on, what are you waiting for?”

you won. you really won. the gravity of it settled in, and you felt a rush of emotions. you hoped your mother was tuned in tonight — oh, who were you kidding? your mother and every other mother in the room had tuned in, probably with their phones in hand, eagerly documenting the night. your mom's hourly reminders of “forbes award show tonight, my daughter is winning” played in your mind like a comforting mantra.

it took all your physical strength to push yourself up from your seat, legs trembling as you shakily walked toward the stage. the camera panned in on your nervous expression, capturing the moment for the world to see. when the award was handed to you, a giddy laugh escaped your lips, a blend of disbelief and joy.

“i — i don’t even know where to begin. i’m just… i’m just someone who started out in her mother’s kitchen.” the crowd chuckled, and you caught a glimpse of suguru, his face radiating pride. “and here i am, getting an award from forbes.” the room erupted into cheers, and you could feel the warmth of their applause wrapping around you.

“i….i made it, mom! i really did, i—” your eyes inadvertently wandered, locking onto sukuna, who was seated a few rows ahead. his expression was thunderous, livid anger practically radiating off him, his tattoos appearing to shift in the dim light as he stared you down. if looks could kill, you were certain you’d disintegrate on the spot.

for a fleeting moment, you felt like that meek little secretary from years ago — the girl who cowered at his angry words, whose confidence had crumbled under his disdain. your breath caught in your throat, palms clammy around the award that suddenly felt like a shackle, the blaring stage lights pressing down on you.

“t-thank you,” you mumbled quickly, and with that, you rushed off the stage, confusion buzzing in the air as people murmured about your abrupt exit. suguru’s brows furrowed with concern as you settled back into your seat beside him.

“hey, what’s wrong? talk to me,” he whispered, his hand finding yours beneath the table, offering a comforting squeeze.

“i saw him,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the reality of your win overshadowed by the weight of sukuna’s gaze.

the moment hung in the air between you, an electric tension that made your heart race. you had won tonight, yet the thrill felt tainted, as if sukuna’s presence had darkened your moment. suguru's grip tightened, grounding you, but the storm brewing inside you was harder to quell. this victory should have felt like a celebration, but instead, it brought the ghosts of your past crashing back, threatening to overshadow everything you had worked so hard for.

you should be counting your lucky stars that you exited the stage as soon as possible because if you had stood there for even one more minute, holding the award and basking in the stage lights, sukuna would have popped a blood vessel.

how could you — of all people — have won the award? it felt like a cruel joke, a slap in the face to all the hard work ryomen had poured into every drink they crafted. sugary excuse of a wine — that’s what he thought of your creation. it didn’t matter that you had poured your heart into persephone; to him, it was a mere distraction, a gimmick that somehow managed to catch fire while he’d been left to stoke the flames of a legacy he had built with his own hands.

sukuna’s jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he tried to reign in the rage bubbling beneath the surface. what the hell did you do to deserve this? it wasn’t fair. i revolutionized the industry, he thought bitterly, a storm brewing in his chest. i put everything into ryomen, and yet here you are, stealing the spotlight with your little pet project.

he couldn’t even pay attention to the next awards being given out; they were just a backdrop to the humiliation he felt. this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. he scanned the room, trying to gauge the reactions of others. do they think this is a joke? he wanted to scream, to lash out at anyone who dared to think persephone was on his level. the mere thought of you being lauded for your success twisted in his gut like a knife.

you didn’t know the sacrifices it took to build an empire, he raged inwardly. you didn’t endure the sleepless nights, the harsh decisions, the pressure of making a brand that people could depend on. to sukuna, ryomen wasn’t just a company; it was an extension of himself, a representation of all he had sacrificed for his brothers, for his future. and now, you had waltzed in and claimed an accolade that felt undeserved.

every cheer from the crowd felt like a taunt, a reminder of how far you had come and how deeply he loathed that it was you who had taken this honor away from him. you’ll never be more than a flash in the pan, he promised himself, a mantra to ease the burning rage. i’ll make sure of that.

his mind raced, plotting and scheming as he gripped the armrest of his chair, knuckles white. i need to show them who the real titan is. he had to reclaim his dominance, to put you in your place. it didn’t matter how many influencers endorsed you or how popular your product became; this was just the beginning, and he would not be overshadowed by someone he once considered insignificant.

as you settled back into your seat, a shaky smile still lighting up your face, sukuna's gaze hardened. this isn’t over, he vowed silently, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and resolve. you may have won tonight, but I’ll be damned if i let you steal my thunder.

days had passed since the forbes award show, but the victory felt hollow for sukuna. sure, he walked out with an armful of awards: the stevie awards, recognizing achievements in management and customer service; the international business awards, celebrating excellence in global innovation and leadership; and the business excellence awards, which honored outstanding performance across the board. it was a haul that solidified his status as a titan in the industry. but even with all that, his mind was consumed by the nagging echo of your name.

how the hell did you manage to steal that one award? it nagged at him like a splinter, refusing to be ignored. it didn’t make sense. even though your win seemed like a mere trinket compared to his accolades, it felt like a theft — a theft of something more precious than gold.

wasn’t it enough that i built this empire from the ground up? he thought, frustration simmering just below the surface. i sacrificed everything to get here, and you — of all people — come in and claim a piece of the pie? it infuriated him to think of you standing on that stage, giggling with disbelief, so carefree and unburdened by the weight of the industry that he had shouldered for years. i’ve earned this!

flashbacks from the award show rolled through his mind like a montage — standing on stage, the lights shining down on him as he accepted award after award. the applause ringing in his ears, the pride swelling in his chest as he shook hands with industry leaders, the kind of recognition that validated every sacrifice he had made.

“congratulations, sukuna,” one executive had said, clapping him on the back. “you’ve really outdone yourself this year.”

“what can i say?” he had replied with a smirk, “i’m just that good.”

yet, while those moments should have felt triumphant, all he could think about was you. that fleeting moment when you stood up there — why couldn’t he shake the image of your smile, your shocked expression? it stirred something within him, an unsettling mix of envy and anger.

you didn’t earn it, he seethed inwardly. you didn’t work your way through sleepless nights or the pressure of making decisions that could sink a company. you just made a drink and got lucky with some influencers.

he wanted to dismiss your success as a fluke, but something about it gnawed at him. why does it bother me so much? he questioned himself, feeling a surge of confusion mixed with annoyance. you weren’t a threat, you were an annoyance, a temporary blip in the industry. yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were becoming something more — something significant.

the thought of you overshadowing his hard-earned victories was infuriating. i won’t let you steal my thunder, he promised himself, his resolve hardening with every passing day. he could not let the narrative shift. this isn’t over; i’ll make sure everyone knows that ryomen is the name that matters, not your little hobby.

but as the days turned into weeks, sukuna found it increasingly difficult to focus solely on his empire. every time he turned on the news or scrolled through social media, your name surfaced, wrapped in praise and admiration, while he was left wondering how you had somehow infiltrated his thoughts, stirring up feelings he had long buried. it’s just a phase, he told himself, clenching his jaw. i’ll crush this little competition of yours. soon, no one will even remember your name.

but deep down, a flicker of doubt loomed. what if they do?

comment on any of the chapters to be added to the taglist, please have your age displayed or your request will be ignored! thanks (: produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Cats and Coffee for Two

pairing: photgrapher/barista!Wonwoo x barista fem!reader (ft. other sebongs)

genre: fluff, comedy, coworkers to lovers!AU, mutual pining, smut - minors dni.

warnings: mentions of food, alcohol and cat hairs, mentions of headaches and insecurities

smut warnings: oral sex (f rec), unprotected sex (contraception is mentioned but wrap it), creampie, praise, use of petnames, body worship, semi-public sex, manhandling, marking, making out, aftercare

word count: 12.2k

summary: Job hunting is a tough sport and Wonwoo has experienced it to its core. One fine autumn day comes where he's finally free from the shackles of unemployment, but he will soon find himself in the shackles of coffee, tea and cat hairs, But most importantly, he will have to share these shackles with you.

Author's note: this is my entry for the fall-ing for you collab hosted by @svthub! another long piece written by yours truly lmao

p.s.: huge thank you to @bitchlessdino, @gyuwoncheol, @wongyuseokie, @onlymingyus, @wonwussy, @horanghater and @shuadotcom for helping me out with the fic in more ways than one💕

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“....We received your CV and cover letter. While your educational details are impressive, the lack of working experience does not make you a suitable candidate for the work position in our company. 

We thank you for your time and effort, and we wish you the best of luck.”

“Well fuck off, autogenerated e-mail response.” Wonwoo grumbles and sends the mail straight to the trash bin with an annoyed huff.

Another job opportunity flushed down the drain, to the point where another headache punches its way into his skull. 

He’s tired. He’s tired, drained and disappointed as fuck. He knew job hunting is a tough sport, but he didn’t expect to be kicked to the curb for such a long time. He was hoping to get a chance for an interview, but not even that? 

It makes him wonder if the years he spent in college were worth it after all. 

Wonwoo’s headache gets stronger, to the point he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. He closes his laptop and gets up from his seat, making a beeline to the cupboard where he stores his medical supplies.

He swallows a painkiller, followed by a generous gulp of water from a bottle, hoping it will soothe the pain soon enough.

He walks over to the couch, plopping down unceremoniously. His energy levels have dropped to absolute zero and the maroon colored couch pillow suddenly seems like a gift sent by the Heavens. He takes off his glasses and lays his head on the pillow, eyes closing shut within a few seconds.

Two hours later, his sweet slumber is disrupted by the familiar ringtone of his phone, but the noise doesn’t make him any less terrified. 

“H-Hello?”

“Hi loser, it’s me, your professional emotional and mental support!” A bright voice echoes from the other end of the line.

Wonwoo checks the ID of the caller and groans when he sees Seokmin’s name.

“What is wrong with you, Seokmin?”

“Bold of you to ask that question.”

“I am serious, Seok. Haven’t you heard of afternoon naps?”

“Dude, it’s eight o’clock.”

Wonwoo checks his watch and sighs in disappointment. “Fuck, I overslept, damnit.”

“Just how long were you asleep for?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Why did you call me?”

“Oh I don’t know, because you’re my friend and I want to check up on you because you’ve been in a slump lately?”

“Damn, way to call me out, I guess.”

“If I don’t call you out, then who will?!”

“....Fair point.”

“Anyways, I’m planning to grab some drinks with Minghao in an hour.”

“Oh nice, hope you have fun.”

“And you’re coming with us.”

“No.”

“Oh come on! It won’t be anything wild, just the three of us drinking some alcohol!” Seokmin whines. “Please? Just this once?”

Wonwoo ponders over his friend’s request and grumbles from his end.

“Fine, if it means to make you hop off my ass, I guess.”

“What ass?”

“You know what, I changed my mi-”

“I’m just kidding!”

“You better be.”

“Okay okay, no need to get your claws out!” 

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys in an hour.” 

“Nice! Make sure to shower before getting out of the house.”

“Fuck you, Seokmin.”

Wonwoo ends the phone call and gets up from the couch, stretching his arms above his head. He takes a whiff from his shirt and he scrunches his eyes in disappointment.

“He’s right, I should take a shower.”

Wonwoo is glad he accepted Seokmin’s invitation, because he had no idea how much he needed this. Not that he would ever admit it.

“You seem less tense than earlier.” Minghao comments.

“It’s all thanks to the alcohol.” 

“And the good company!” Seokmin butts in with his soju glass. “It’s okay to admit I was right.”

“And let it get to your head? No thank you.”

“Wonwoo is right, it will get to your head.” 

“I hate you both!” Seokmin whines and downs his shot.

“Now that’s a lie and you know it.” The younger man deadpans.

Wonwoo watches the bickering between his friends, the rim of the soju glass resting on his bottom lip. But his mind is wicked enough to slip back into his own worries, his face frowning once more.

“Wonwoo? Are you okay?”

Minghao’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Hm? Yeah, all good.”

“Buddy, with all due respect, you were looking like your pet cat died or something.” Seokmin narrows his eyes.

“Fuck off, Salem is perfectly fine!” Wonwoo shivers.

“Are you still worried about finding a job?” Minghao asks, hitting the nail on the head.

“Well, how can I not be? I have been struggling ever since I graduated and all I’ve managed to do is photoshoots for stupid influencers!”

He realizes his voice was louder than it was supposed to be, judging from the side-eyeing glares he earned from other customers.

“Damn, you really had to stoop so low?” Seokmin scratches his head.

“Money makes the world go around, or something like that.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Minghao asks again.

“I don’t have enough work experience, let alone serious one, which means my CV doesn’t look very professional right now.”

“Hmm….”

“What?”

“I may have a solution to your problem.”

Wonwoo’s eyes go wide, his irises filling with hope.

“Do you remember Joshua? From the Social Relations department?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“He’s currently working at SVT Cat Cafe, he manages the paperwork and stuff. He could put in a few words for you, if you don’t mind.” Minghao sips the last of his soju.

“You should take the offer, Wonwoo! The cafe is really cute and you will love the kitties!” Seokmin grins excitedly.

“It’s…It sounds really good, to be honest. Almost too good to be true.” Wonwoo lets out a breath he was holding all this time.

“You can always check out their website and send your CV in their email address. They are still hiring people, so it’s a good chance.” 

“Hao, I don’t know what to say, seriously.” Wonwoo laughs nervously.

“People usually say thank you.” Seokmin jokes.

“One more word and I’ll shove the entire soju bottle in your mouth, I swear.”

The view through the window is nothing short of idyllic, almost like the aesthetic images you see on Pinterest and Instagram. Maple leaves are dancing to the rhythm of the November winds, adding color to the dull concrete of the pavement, even if you know they won’t stay there for long.

You can’t say you’ve gotten used to the chilly weather, especially after your late vacation in Greece - it’s always too warm there, as you were warned beforehand. But you’re definitely glad you can enjoy a hot cup of coffee with cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles before the opening.

You hear tiny meows behind the mahogany counter and you walk in front of it, letting out a sigh when you pinpoint the source of the noises.

“Tofu, I swear to God.” You put the cup down and pick the white kitty in your arms. “I know you like roaming around but your cat hairs are invisible and I don’t want them in the beverages.”

The feline just tilts her head sideways and purrs in your arms, her green eyes staring at you, as if she is the most innocent creature in the universe (she is, most of the time).

“Your boba eyes aren’t working on me, missy. I know your true nature.”

Tofu responds with another meow, as if she’s asking you ‘who, me?’.

You go back and forth with the cat’s meows and purrs, utterly unaware of the presence of two men just a few feet away.

“Does that happen on a daily basis?” Wonwoo asks with a hushed voice.

“Yeah, with almost every single cat.” Joshua responds. “Although Tofu is her favorite.”

“I think I can see that.” 

You hear a couple of whispers behind you and you turn your attention to the two men.

“Oh, Joshua! You’re early today.” You comment. “And who is the gentleman next to you?”

“U-Uh, hi. I’m Jeon Wonwoo.” The man fixes his glasses nervously.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.” You stretch your arm, waiting for a handshake. 

“L-Likewise.” Wonwoo hesitantly shakes your hand.

“Wonwoo will be the photographer for our social media accounts and official website, starting today.” Joshua adds.

“Oh, that’s great news!” You exclaim. “I promise you’ll have a wonderful time working here, Wonwoo.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Well, I’m afraid I have to take my leave now, business is calling.” Joshua announces after checking his watch. “Do not worry, Wonwoo. I’m leaving you in great hands. And paws.”

“See you later, Shua!” You bid your coworker farewell.

Tofu walks around Wonwoo’s legs and rubs herself all over him.

“I think she likes you.”

“You think so?” Wonwoo asks as he bends down to pet the cat, a fond smile on his face as the feline leans into his hand.

“She’s pretty picky with people, so seeing her so warm towards someone she has never seen before is pretty much a miracle.” You chuckle.

“Well, I should feel honored then.” He responds with a small smile.

“Would you like to order something? I could fix you a cup before the opening.”

“Um, could I have an iced americano then?”

“Wow, you’re brave.” You laugh in disbelief.

“What makes you say that?”

“You just ordered iced coffee in the middle of autumn. Does your throat have a death wish?” You put a few ice cubes in a plastic cup.

“Force of habit, I guess.” Wonwoo replies.

“That sounded very…moody.”

“Sorry, it wasn’t my intention…” He laces his fingers together and purses his lips together.

“You aren’t quite the extroverted one, are you?” You place the cup with the bitter liquid in front of him.

“Not really.” 

“It’s okay! You will be able to overcome it with time.” You try to reassure him.

“If you say so.” Wonwoo takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ll go check out the rest of the cafe, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, feel free to explore a bit!” You smile at him while you wrap your apron around your waist.

“The coffee is really good, by the way.” 

“Thank you! It’s my job, after all.”

Wonwoo searches for his wallet in his backpack, but you stop him before he finds it.

“It’s on the house, no need to pay for it.”

“But-”

“Good luck today, Wonwoo.”

“T-Thanks. You too, Y/N.”

He looks at you one last time before he goes to the open space of the cafe to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

The day progresses without any problems - if anything, the regular customers have already started gossiping about Wonwoo, although most of it revolves around his God-like facial features.

You kinda wish you were serving the coffee instead of making it behind the counter. At least you would have been able to see Wonwoo up close in action with his camera. But you can’t say you haven’t been stealing glances through the window that separates the two spaces of the cafe.

“Eyeing the new guy, are we now?” One of your coworkers leans on the counter in an attempt to gossip.

“Oh, shut up, Chan.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

“Define asking?”

“For someone who claims to be the sunshine type in this business, you’re pretty snappy right now.” The ashen-haired man snickers.

“I’m not snappy! It’s rush hour and I’m trying to focus on my job.” You defend yourself.

“It’s rush hour for everyone here, you’re not special, Y/N.”

“Either way, you’re not getting anything out of me, Chan.” You place two porcelain cups filled with hot chocolate. “Now get these to table four.”

“Vibe killer.” Chan grumbles under his breath as he places the cups on the disk.

“I heard that, shortie!” 

“No cupcakes for you tomorrow!” He mocks you before disappearing into the outer space of the cafe.

You let out an exasperated sigh, followed by a short laugh and you return to the coffee machine, checking the orders you have received and start making them one by one.

While the cafe hasn’t been operating for long, you’ve been part of it since day one. You feel glad to be finally putting your barista working license to work and do something that you love dearly - blame your undying love for coffee and cats.

Chan was also one of the first employees who joined the team, but he’s on the service part and he’s damn good at it (even if he did break a couple of glasses on his first week). The regular patrons know him by name and he never fails to make them swoon over with just a single smile of his.

Chan is a sweetheart, but also a little shit when it comes to teasing you. Although he never once overstepped with teasing. But he always goes overboard with the treats he gets you from the bakery across the street. You still remember the six pieces of cinnamon rolls he got you two weeks ago and how persistent he was for you to eat them all (you ate them all eventually).

Late in the afternoon, your shift comes to an end and you hang your apron, starting to pack up your stuff. Wonwoo walks into the main area and starts dismantling his camera to put it back in its box.

“So, how did the first day go?” You attempt to strike conversation.

“It was….interesting, I suppose.” He shrugs.

“You sound a bit tired….”

“My social battery died about halfway through the shift, to be honest.” He admits with a heavy sigh. “At least the cats are sociable enough to let me pet them.”

“I think you should go home and get some rest.” You give him some advice.

“I don’t think rest is going to happen anytime soon, but thanks.” He zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. “Goodnight and see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He bids you farewell and disappears through the doors of the cafe.

Shame, he’s cute but so uptight, you think. It’s not like there’s anything else you can do right now, so you leave the cafe, locking it shut and you walk towards the bus station to catch your ride back home.

A while later, you’re laying in your bed under the covers and decide to scroll through your socials for a while before falling asleep. You open Instagram and check your notifications, your eyes zooming on the purple circle around the profile picture of the cat cafe.

You click on it and a smile creeps on your face when you see Wonwoo’s picture on one of the Instagram stories, tagging Wonwoo’s account and welcoming him to the team. Curiosity gets the better of you and you click on the tag, leading you to his personal account. You frown a bit when you notice it’s private, but you don’t hesitate to send him a following request.

You hope he won’t think you’re a creep or something. I mean, he can definitely recognize you from your profile picture, right?

To your luck, a notification pops up on the top part of your screen and you squeal when you realize that Wonwoo has followed you back.

You waste zero time to check the pictures he has posted over the years and you quickly understand that he’s not the type to show off his face. But the one thing that’s prominent in his account is the astronomical amount of breathtaking pictures from the places he has visited throughout his life. You break into a giggling fit when you click on a post with his cat and you read a few comments from his friends, lovingly making fun of his ‘cat dad’ tendencies. Your heart swells when you see more photos of him playing with a black cat and petting him until said cat slaps his hands away.

Now you know why Tofu liked him at first sight.

One week later.

Today is an off day for you and you plan to sleep until midday. But your boss has other plans.

You want to cuss at everything around you within a radius of ten kilometers when your phone rings and you rub your eyes to forcefully wake yourself up and answer the call.

“Good morning, Boss.” 

“Good morning, Y/N. I’m sorry for calling you so early, but you need to come as soon as you can at the cafe.”

“Why is that? I mean, it’s my day off today.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yoona just called me from the hospital, she had an accident yesterday.”

“What?!” You nearly jump out of the bed. “Is she okay?!”

“She’s out of harm's way, but her arm has suffered a fracture and she won’t be able to work for the next two months.”

“Oh my God….”

“We really need you here, Y/N.”

“Yes, yes of course. I’ll be there in half an hour.” You say and end the call. 

You grumble and get out of the bed, your feet taking you to the bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Once you’re out, you go back to the bedroom and pick a hoodie with jeans to put on.

You walk out of your apartment and fasten your jacket around you, jogging to the bus station to catch your ride to work.

Twenty minutes later, you arrive at the cafe and you’re welcomed with a literal mess in the barista bench and a yelling Chan and a frustrated Wonwoo. 

“This isn’t how you’re supposed to turn it!”

“And what do you know about coffee machines?!”

“All corks are manufactured to fasten towards a certain direction!.”

“You’re just a photographer, not an engineer!”

“And you’re just a waiter, not a barista!”

“Whoa, whoa! Both of you, get away from the machines!” You yell at them and shoo them away to get to work. “Jesus, what the hell did you do here?!”

“We were just trying to make the orders!” Chan defends himself.

“You could have just told the customers that coffee won’t be served until the barista is here!”

“That’s what I suggested as well, but he said ‘he knows better’.” Wonwoo shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s because I’ve been here longer than you!” The shorter man retorts.

“Sometimes, it’s productive to listen to other people’s ideas, they might help you in ways you could never imagine.” You sigh as your hands fiddle with the machine and check the orders one by one.

“Finally, someone with common sense.” Wonwoo points towards you. “At least some people know how to think in here.” He walks away and picks up his camera again, resuming his initial tasks.

“I can’t believe you took his side!” Chan complains to you.

“I didn’t take his side, our opinions just happened to collide!” 

“Oh my God, you’re so into him, it actually sickens me.” The man fake gags.

“Can you stop bringing that up?! What if he listens?!” You whip your head around and glare at your friend.

“So you admit it! You have a crush on him!”

“Yeah I do. You can get your ‘detective of the year’ honorary badge now.” You groan.

“I- Ugh, whatever.”

“Look, Chan, I wasn’t even supposed to be here today. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” 

 Chan lets out a deep breath to calm down as he picks up the serving disk.

“I know, Y/N. I hope the remaining apple pie in the box will lighten up your mood and fill in your empty stomach. It’s freshly baked.” 

“......You idiot.”

“I love you too, work wife.” He flashes you a grin and runs back to the customers.

You take a peek in the pastry box and the aroma of cinnamon and apples hits your nostrils like the early morning sunlight enters a cold room.

Your fingers don’t hesitate to dip in the box and pick a bite from the dessert, putting it in your mouth to eat it. You hum in approval when the sweet warmth envelopes your taste buds, giving you a much needed energy boost.

You return to your work at hand, completely unaware of Wonwoo’s eyes watching you like a hawk, an unreadable expression overcoming his features. The tuxedo cat jumping on the shelf next to his head snaps him out of it, letting out a cranky meow at him.

“What is it, Taro?” He raises his hand to pet her fur.

Taro meows back as she flops down on the surface to stretch herself out for more pets.

“Jealous of not giving you enough attention?”

She meows even louder this time, as if she’s saying yes.

“I’m sorry, your Highness.” Wonwoo ruffles her belly. “A man has to work to get by.”

Taro narrows her eyes, as if she’s doubting his words.

“Okay fine, I was looking at her! What are you gonna do about it?”

The cat raises her front paws in the air and Wonwoo lets out an airy laugh, positioning his camera towards the long-haired feline to capture her in a few poses.

“Hope those pictures will be enough for you to stop blackmailing me.”

Two weeks later.

God, these double shifts are fucking killing me, you mentally groan while sitting in one of the tables next to the cat trees. But it’s nice working early, since you get to come here and chill with the cats before opening time.

One of the resident cats jumps next to you, rubbing himself on your thigh.

“Good morning to you too, Dino Nugget. Did you sleep well?”

The orange cat jumps in your lap and sits in a loaf position without even asking you.

“Wow sir, it’s not even free real estate.” You laugh and run your hand over his fur.

He turns around and starts pawing at your hand, as if it’s a toy. He then opens his jaw to nibble at your finger, his teeth grazing your skin a bit harsher than usual.

“Ow, dude! That’s my hand, not your chew toy!” You yelp lightly.

You hear the clicking sound of a camera not far away from you and you snap your head to the source of the sound, your eyes falling on Wonwoo.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-”

“No no, it’s okay! You were just doing your job.” You wave your hand.

“Do you….mind if I sit with you?” He asks sheepishly.

“Of course not! I was about to ask you, actually.” You smile.

Wonwoo makes himself comfortable next to you, smiling towards the orange cat.

“You seem to have loosened up a bit.”

“Yeah. But moments like those are also nice.” He says. “It can get….hectic sometimes and I don’t always deal well with pressure.”

“That’s exactly why the kitties are here! They have this magic ability to take away the negativity from you.” 

“Including this one?” He points towards Dino Nugget.

“Yeah. But he will try to bite you, no matter what.”

“Well, he’s an orange cat. What did you expect?” Wonwoo deadpans and you look at him with a shocked expression.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-”

You cut him off with a laughter loud enough to scare Dino Nugget off your lap.

“You’re so serious about cats, it’s actually funny!” You admit between laughs.

“Of course I’m serious about them! And you aren’t?”

“I am! I just didn’t expect that random orange cat fact, y’know.”

“Oh, okay.” Wonwoo purses his lips.

Silence befalls the outer space.

“Great, now I made things awkward again.” He sighs in defeat.

“No, you didn’t! It was just…. well…”

“Awkward behaviour.”

“.....Yeah, actually.”

“God, Seokmin is so fucking right.” Wonwoo curses at himself.

“Who’s Seokmin?”

“One of my best friends and the bane of my existence. He has been pestering me about my lack of social skills and stuff like that.”

“I would say he sounds almost like Chan.”

“Seokmin doesn’t buy me pastries every day.”

“Did you just emit jealousy, Wonwoo?”

“No, I’m just stating the facts. I’m 100% sure he will show up today with another box of fresh desserts.”

“You can always get a bite from them.” You nudge his shoulder.

“I don’t think he would like that.”

“Why are you so negative about Chan?”

“I’m not negative! He’s just… you guys seem really close with each other, that’s all.”

“Wonwoo, we’re just friends! The work husband and wife thing is just for funsies!” You reassure him and his features soften almost immediately.

“If you say so.”

“Wonwoo, I’m being serious.”

“I know. I don’t mean to call you a liar or something.”

“Okay…” You trail off with an uncertain look written over your face.

Another moment of silence passes until Wonwoo speaks up again.

“How are you handling the double shifts?”

“Terribly. My sleep schedule has been fucked up and I don’t think I’ll be able to fix it any time soon.” You slouch in your seat.

“Any updates about the recruitment?”

“Absolutely nothing so far. Unless a miracle happens.” You scoff.

“Can you teach me how to make coffee then?” Wonwoo asks you and your eyes shoot up in surprise.

“I- Uhm, yeah I can, but why?”

“I want to help you.”

“With making coffee?!”

“Yes. What’s so weird about it?” 

“N-Nothing! I just didn’t expect you to offer to help me.”

“The truth is that I haven’t been the best towards you, while you’ve been very warm and welcoming towards me since day one.” He admits while averting your gaze.

“But giving you extra work outside of your expertise is outrageous!”

“But I’m the one asking for it!” 

A loud chirping sound comes from behind you and you notice Henry shooting a death glare at you for disrupting his beauty sleep.

“Go to sleep, Henry.” You roll your eyes at the tabby cat and the feline yawns before stretching his hind legs.

“So? What do you think?” Wonwoo asks you again.

You look at him and you can see a fire being ignited in his eyes, as if he really wants to do that.

You check your watch and look between Wonwoo and the inner space of the cafe, solidifying your decision.

“Get up.” You pat his back.

“Does that mean yes?”

“It means that you need to pay a lot of attention and catch up quickly. We have less than an hour and a half until the cafe opens.” You walk into the cafe and towards the barista counter.

Wonwoo goes towards the cat trees, smiling brightly towards the felines.

“Watch me learn how to brew coffee and win her over, okay?”

Two sharp knocks on the window wall snap him back to reality and he looks at you furiously waving at him to come inside.

Wonwoo jogs back in the cafe, joining you behind the counter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You put your hands on your waist.

“Uh, to watch you make coffee?”

“Rule number one: Never enter the barista area without lint-rolling your clothes first.” You point towards a shelf away from the counter, where a couple of lint rollers are.

“When did you even clean yourself up?” Wonwoo asks while running the roller over his hoodie and jeans.

“When you were talking to the cats.” You deadpan.

“Okay, my clothes are clean. Now what?”

“Rule number two: Always wear a barista apron while working behind your counter. We hang them right next to the window wall.”

He picks one of the aprons and puts the top strap around his neck, tying the lower one around his waist. You don’t miss the double loop and you wonder how slim his waist must be and how you hands would-

“What is rule number three?” His question cuts your train of thoughts and you try to get yourself together.

“Wash your hands thoroughly, of course.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The first steps of Wonwoo’s barista adventures go rather smoothly - he realizes he’s good at memorizing the various coffee blends. Handling the machine isn’t that much difficult, but it’s definitely not as easy as assembling his camera.

His eyes never leave your skilled hands, effortlessly maneuvering a glass under the machine, clicking the proper buttons to make a serve of espresso. 

“That looked so easy, but something tells me it won’t be as easy as I think it is.” Wonwoo laughs awkwardly.

“It’s actually not very hard. You just have to be careful with the amount of coffee you will put in the portafilter.” 

“Can I try now?”

“Don’t be impatient. You need to throw away the used shot and then purge the machine with water first.” You explain with a smile.

“Hm, okay. I think I can do that.” 

He takes out the portafilter and disposes of the used espresso shot. He cleans the portafilter separately while running the machine with only water. 

“Good job! It was smart to clean the portafilter during the machine run.” 

“Thought it would save me time.”

“And you thought well. This can be really useful during rush hour.”

“What’s next?”

“You dry the filter and fill it in with the desired amount of espresso. But remember, it needs to be even!”

“Got that.” He grabs the bag of ground coffee and takes a few spoonfuls of the blend and puts it in the clean filter, tapping it on the counter to flatten the surface. 

“Use the tamper to tamp it down and make it compact enough.” You remind him of the next step.

He wordlessly follows your tip and does exactly as you told him, locking the portafilter in the machine. He grabs a demitasse glass and places it under the machine and presses the button, watching the dark brown liquid flow into the cup.

“Congratulations, you just made your first cup of espresso!” You give him tiny claps and he smiles sheepishly. 

“Moment of truth.” He breathes out and hands you over the glass to taste the coffee he made. You take a sip and allow your taste buds to absorb the rich flavor.

“Not bad for the first time!” You hum in satisfaction.

“Thank God, I thought I would poison you or something.” Wonwoo lets out a heavy breath.

“Why are you so critical of yourself?”

“I have been classified as a kitchen hazard.”

“Well, this isn’t a kitchen, as you can see.” 

“But still-”

“No buts. You asked to learn how to make coffee and you have to accept that you’re going to make mistakes in the process.”

“I know, but it’s kinda scary.” 

“It was scary for you to work among so many people the first week, but you didn’t give up, did you?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I am doing it for the cats, Y/N.”

“If that’s what makes your boat float, then who am I to disagree?” You laugh and clean the machine all over again.

The words die down in Wonwoo’s throat and he tries to find something to occupy himself with.

“You don’t have to do anything else around here now.” You tell him.

“Oh. Was that all?” His voice comes out almost disappointed.

“Only for now. It’s not like we have a lot of time left until customers start coming in and I would hate to throw you in the den of wolves right away. Besides, your friends seem to miss you already.” You turn your head to the window wall and Wonwoo follows suit, breaking out in laughter when he sees Dino Nugget scratching against the window.

“Oh my God, not him again.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to him!”

“Y/N, he literally bit you an hour ago.”

“He’s just an orange cat - or so you said. He’s also Chan’s fave.”

“Well too bad I already have a fave.” Wonwoo unties his apron and hangs it.

“Ooh, who is it?” You ask with curiosity.

“That’s my secret.”

“Okay mister secretive.” You scoff lightly.

Secretive. What a great word to describe me, Wonwoo thinks with a tight-lipped smile that fights to become a grin when he returns to the cafe cats, sitting down on one of the tables to fiddle with his camera.

He skims through the picture he has taken so far, stopping at the one where Dino Nugget is in your lap and you’re petting him with a loving smile on his face.

As if on cue, Tofu tip toes her way next to Wonwoo and puts her paw over his hand, raising her body on her hind legs.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” 

The feline purrs loudly and rubs her head on the back of his hand.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Hours later, at Joshua’s place.

“So you’re telling me that Wonwoo is smitten with Y/N?”

“Yeah! You have to trust me on this, Shua, I just know it!” Chan repeatedly taps his soju glass on the table.

“Okay, but why are you so pressed about it?”

“Because none of them are doing anything about it! And I hate mutual pining with a burning passion!”

“Sounds like you’re scared of losing your work wife to me.” Joshua smirks in his glass.

“I’m not scared! I just want to look out for her!”

“As her work husband?”

“And her bestie, duh!” 

“You’re so dramatic about this.”

“And you’re so nonchalant about this!”

“It’s their business, not mine, Chan!”

“And since when do you not care about gossip, Joshua?” The younger man raises his eyebrow.

“Don’t you see I’m making an effort to stay gossip-free?” Joshua whines in defeat. 

“And it’s failing miserably.”

The older man sighs and drinks a bit of his soju. “Yeah, it fucking did.”

“What, you know things I don’t?”

“Let’s just say that running the HR of an establishment grants you perks that someone like you doesn’t have.”

“Just tell me already! I wasn’t there today, come on!”

“Wonwoo and Y/N were both seen behind the barista counter today.”

“Okay….Maybe he was taking pics of her during the deed? Y’know, for promotion purposes?”

“You don’t understand - Y/N was showing him how to operate the coffee machine. He even managed to make a few batches of espresso.”

Chan chokes on alcohol and starts coughing loudly, smacking his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, breathe!” Joshua offers him a glass of water. “I didn’t mean to kill you!”

“Well - gah - I certainly felt like dying!” He gasps for breath. “But - How? When did things escalate so fast?!”

“From what I’ve heard, Wonwoo wanted to help Y/N until someone applies for the position and Boss agreed to it, as long as he’s under Y/N’s supervision.”

“Fuck this, I can help her too!”

“Bitch you don’t even know which way the corks turn!” Joshua laughs.

“Fuck you too, Hong!”

“You know, this could work in their favor. And yours, eventually.”

“How?”

“They will get to spend more time together and grow closer, you idiot!”

“Well yeah, but that also depends on whether one of the two will fuck up the process or not!” Chan retorts.

“Just….have some faith, okay?” Joshua tries to convince him.

“If you say so, I guess.”

Two months later.

“Did you have a secret glow up or something?” Seokmin scans Wonwoo from the top to the bottom.

“You can just admit you were checking me out.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“As long as the right person isn’t checking you out, my eyes don’t matter, friend.”

“Oh my God, just say you want to talk about Y/N.”

“Yes I fucking do, because she’s clearly the reason you’ve changed!” Seokmin slams his hands on the table. “And for the better!”

“I don’t feel like I’ve undergone any drastic changes, though.” 

“That’s because you’re extremely harsh on yourself and refuse to see the truth!”

“And the truth is?”

Seokmin grunts in disappointment. “That you are head over heels for Y/N, you idiot.”

“And what if I am? I mean, she hasn’t really shown any real interest towards me.” Wonwoo shrugs.

“Dude, she has literally taken you under her wing and taught you how to make coffee! While she was swamped with work!”

“I just wanted to help her, she was doing double shifts for two weeks straight!”

“And I’m more than sure that she likes you even more because of that!”

“I was just trying to be nice, just like that.”

“Wonwoo, nobody is nice just like that. Everyone has their own agendas.” Seokmin smirks. “It all boils down to the benefits these agendas hold. And yours is going to benefit a lot of people.”

“Let’s say you’re right then. Why didn’t she just confess? She’s like, the definition of an extrovert.”

“Not everyone has the guts or lack of tact to just go to their crush and confess their feelings to them, you know.” 

“How can you be so sure that Y/N has a crush on me?”

“I’m going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer them truthfully.” Seokmin puts his palms together.

“Yes, dear therapist.” Wonwoo crosses his arms in front of his chest and mocks his friend.

“Does she know your coffee order?”

“Yeah, but she knows the coffee order of most regulars, it’s her job.”

“Fair point, but does she make coffee for you during work and accompany it with a snack?”

Wonwoo racks his brain for instances that match Seokmin’s question and to his surprise, he recalls a lot of them.

“You don’t even have to say anything, I can see the answer written all over your face.”

“Is that even enough to count as proof?”

“I’m not done yet.” Seokmin takes a sip of water to clear his throat. “Moving on to my next question - does she ask you about your day, how did you sleep and stuff like that?”

“Yeah, but that’s basic human decency.”

“Ugh, whatever. Have you ever complimented her appearance? Like, ‘Hey, that color looks very pretty on you!’ or something like that?”

“.....No.” Wonwoo replies with an awkward expression.

Seokmin rolls his eyes and drags his palms over his face dramatically.

“Why are you acting like this?! I’m not ignoring her on purpose!”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything?!”

“How can I do something when she’s so pretty and popular and a fucking sunshine and I’m….this?” Wonwoo vaguely gestures at himself.

Seokmin sighs audibly and rests his elbows on the table. “Can you tell me what’s really going on? Because I am not buying the shit you’ve said so far.”

Wonwoo’s expression turns bitter the moment Seokmin calls him out.

“There’s a contender?”

“Yeah, that fucking dipshit called Chan. He never misses a chance to show off that stupid smile of his to everyone and call himself Y/N’s ‘work husband’. He has the audacity to buy her snacks whenever their shifts overlap!” 

“Oh my God.” Seokmin bursts out in laughter.

“I’m sharing my problems with you and you’re laughing?”

“I am laughing because you’re green with jealousy!”

“I- I’m not jealous! I’m just stating the facts here! Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Wonwoo, it’s just you and me here, you can be honest.”

“I- Fine, I am jealous of that short bitch and the relationship he has with Y/N.”

“And that’s fine! But you also need to keep in mind that Y/N probably knows this Chan guy longer than she knows you, so it’s kind of natural to have a closer relationship with him.”

“You are not helping right now, Seok.”

Silence befalls the two friends as they pick on the leftovers of their food, contemplating their discussion.

“Something just popped into my head.” Seokmin speaks up again.

“It better not be another brain fart of yours.” Wonwoo grimaces.

“You should go to work tomorrow with your motorbike!”

“Okay. And?” 

“And….You should dress up a tad bit fancier for once.”

“Why should I even-”

“Shhhhhhh, just… Just do as I say, okay? Now zip it, I wasn’t finished yet.” Seokmin shushes him. “Let me think…. a white button-up and those dark blue wide leg jeans you have?”

“What about those?”

“You’re wearing them tomorrow. No questions asked.”

“Seokmin, it’s the middle of November, I’m gonna freeze to death.”

“You’re gonna wear a heavy jacket on top, you idiot. Besides, it won’t be that cold tomorrow.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Ever heard of weather forecasts?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m not the one you want to fuck, let’s be real here.” Seokmin smirks and Wonwoo throws a fried potato at him. 

“I swear to God, if I end up making a fool of myself or catching a cold, you won’t hear from me ever again.” 

“Cool, does that mean I get to adopt Salem after your death?”

“Keep your grimy hands off my cat, bitch.”

“I will, because you’ll be alive and Y/N will be in your arms within the span of….twenty four hours. Maybe less, if you play your cards right.” Seokmin winks.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look scary when you have something specific in mind?”

“You can just admit you like it when I look scary because it makes me even sexier.”

“You’re fucking gross.”

Wonwoo wakes up at 7:30 sharp, as always. But today is different - today is the day he finally confesses to you. Blame Seokmin’s idea, blame Chan’s behavior towards you, blame his own cowardice - whatever the reason is, Wonwoo is dead set on achieving his goal today.

He opens his closet and skims through his clothes until he finds the ones Seokmin specifically told him to wear.

He’s worried he might catch a cold with just a white button down and jeans, but there’s always his trusty fuzzy jacket - the cold never passes through that and it definitely won’t pass now, no matter what he’s wearing underneath.

The thought of wearing this particular outfit to work in order to impress you makes him feel stupid and giddy at the same time, as if he’s the nerdy highschooler in love with the pretty girl of the class. 

“How damn cliché.” He chuckles to himself and takes out the clothes to hang them in front of the closet. He goes to the bathroom, jumping in the shower for a quick refreshment. It only takes him five minutes to wash his hair and body, wrapping a towel around his waist. He takes a quick look at himself in the mirror and nods in satisfaction. 

The gym has definitely paid off, he thinks and grabs the hair dryer to dry his hair. Once he’s done, he chooses to lightly run his fingers through them, not wanting to disrupt the curly form.

He returns to the bedroom to put on his clothes, humming in approval when he sees his reflection in the full body mirror. He spritzes his favorite perfume all over him and wears his horn-rimmed glasses to complete the look and wears his jacket on top to keep himself warm. 

He really doesn’t want to admit it, but Seokmin might be right on the money this time.

He’s about to leave when his eyes fall on the spare helmet he keeps in the corner of his closet and decides to take it with him - in case the plan works out, he wants to keep you safe while you’re riding with him on his bike.

He just hopes you aren’t afraid of motorbikes.

Salem walks in the bedroom and meows at Wonwoo to get his attention.

“Hi buddy. How do I look?”

The cat purrs loudly as he rubs himself on Wonwoo’s jeans.

“Thanks for the approval. I hope Y/N approves too.”

Salem meows again and paws on his dad’s leg.

“I’ll see you later, pal. Hopefully with some pretty company.”

“So it’s official?” 

“Unfortunately, yes. Yoona has completed her rehab, but she has decided to move out of Seoul.” Your boss notifies you.

“I see…” You think and mixed feelings wash over you. You’re sad that Yoona is leaving so soon, but that also means you’ll get to spend even more time with Wonwoo behind the barista counter.

“But on the bright side, we managed to get a new employee!”

“W-What? When did that happen?”

“Just yesterday! I asked them if they could start soon and they will be here tomorrow morning.” Your boss grins widely. “Can I count on you to show them the ropes?”

“Oh, um, yeah, of course!” You form a fake smile.

“Great! You’ll get an extra this month for this, do not worry about that.”

“I appreciate it, Boss.” 

The lady walks away and your shoulders slouch in defeat, your dreams of watching Wonwoo’s forearms operate the coffee machine.

“A penny for your thoughts, wife?” Chan comes up to the counter.

“A penny might be too little for the amount of thoughts I have, Chan.”

“You don’t seem excited today.”

“Boss just told me that Yoona is leaving and we already have a replacement for her.” You frown.

“I know you’re sad you probably won’t see Yoona again, but at least you won’t have to work overtime again!” Chan tries to lift your mood.

“That’s not the only problem, Chan.”

“What is it then- Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Well, I mean…It’s not like you won’t see him ever again.”

“But it’s not the same!” 

“Oh my God, can you just confess already?! I’m tired of this rom-com!” Chan whines.

“You know what?” Your mouth falls open. “I might do it today.”

“Finally! But why is your mouth hanging like that?”

You point towards the door and Wonwoo who walks inside, looking like the male lead of a k-drama.

“Can you please close your mouth? A fly could enter and you could choke.” He snickers and you slap his arm.

“Good morning!” Wonwoo greets the two of you with a bright smile.

“Good morning Wonwoo! You seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Yeah, you could say that. By the way, I bought you some honey cupcakes.” He puts the pastry box on the counter and he walks next to you to wear his apron.

“What?! They told me they had run out today!” Chan is flabbergasted.

“Well, you weren’t lucky enough to catch the fresh batch, Channie.” Wonwoo smirks and the younger man grimaces and almost slams the water glasses on his disk.

“Who are you and what have you done to the Wonwoo I know?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I am him. Just a bit elevated.” He puffs out his chest ever so slightly.

“Does the elevation come with a brand new motorbike?”

“Oh that? I already had it, but it was under repair for a good chunk of time.”

“But now you can ride it again, right?”

“Of course! Otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.”

“It looks really cool by the way.” 

“The motorbike?”

“Everything, actually.”

“Everything?” He tilts his head sideways.

You clear your throat. “By the way, Boss told me we’re getting a new barista tomorrow.” 

“Oh, I see.” He replies with a monotonous voice. “So no more sessions?”

“Yeah, pretty much. But I’m sure you probably miss your camera.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t touching it at all. Besides, working with you is really fun.”

“Not anymore, since it’s the last day today.”

“Well then, we should make the most of it, right?” He looks at you with a swirling mix of warmth and seduction.

“B-Be careful with the cinnamon, you don’t want to overdo it.” You stammer over your words, turning your head away.

“Yes ma’am.” Wonwoo chuckles, not missing the light flush over your cheeks as he resumes his task.

As if your brains are connected to the same thinking bubble, they both repeat the same phrase over and over again.

This is going smoother than cream.

“Is it legal to do this?” Wonwoo asks with uncertainty.

“Relax, we’re not gonna commit crimes. We can just say we stayed behind to clean up! Not that anyone will care that we made two cups of coffee.” You reassure him.

“But the machine isn’t on. How are you going to make coffee without it?”

You flash a warm smile. “This is exactly why I wanted it to be the two of us.”

You search under the counter for a few seconds and you pull out a black box that has been tightly sealed. You open it carefully and take out a coffee pot made of copper, a sealed bag of coffee blend and a mini gas heater.

“What is all this?” Wonwoo’s curiosity is piqued.

“This is something I learned during my vacation in Greece. I will show you how to make traditional Greek coffee.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he finds himself walking behind the counter and right next to you.

You open the sealed bag and the rich aroma quickly spreads in the air, satisfied hums echoing in the silent cafe.

“You get it now, don’t you?”

“It smells so good.”

“Wait until you actually taste it.” You giggle. 

“Judging from the tools, it must be hard to make it.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” You fill the coffee pot with cold water. “It requires a lot of technique and “meraki”, as the locals usually call it.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s the love and passion poured in the coffee brewing process. Even if it’s served as a product to a customer, it’s always created with fine motions and the hope of conveying said effort to the customer through a cup of Greek coffee.”

“This sounds more like a confession of love to me.” Wonwoo comments and you are happy the lighting is dim enough to hide the creeping blush on your cheeks.

“Well, that’s one way to put it.” You set the coffee pot on the table and take out two small porcelain cups from the box.

“That’s really pretty.”

“Thanks. I got them as a souvenir from a local shop, along with the briki.”

“The what?”

“That’s the greek word for the coffee pot! They use this specific one because it’s the best at storing the heat in its walls and allowing the coffee to roast slowly.”

“I stand corrected. This is a ritual of love, not just a confession.” He chuckles at your excitement.

That’s why I’m doing it, you four-eyed hot bastard! You mentally scream but keep your smiley facade on.

“Why did you get only two of these?” He keeps asking you questions.

“The old lady at the shop had made only two of those.” You explain. “But she did think I was buying it for my boyfriend and myself.” You end your sentence with an awkward laugh.

“I think that’s adorable, Y/N.” He rests his hand on his palm, almost 

“It would be, if I had a real boyfriend.”

“Well, you can always share a cup with your work husband.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Are you jealous, Wonwoo?”

“Me? No, not at all.” He brushes it off. “I just mentioned Chan because you’re really close to him.”

“Hmm, if you say so.” You shrug.

A beat of awkward silence passes and Wonwoo attempts to shift the mood to his favor.

“Can you guide me? Making the coffee, I mean.” He almost stutters.

“O-Oh, of course I can!” You slide behind him and watch him tighten his apron around his slender waist. Since when did he have such a slender waist?!

He picks up a teaspoon and puts four spoonfuls in the water, turning on the heat.

“The heat should be medium to low. Stir it only at the beginning and then let it heat through.”

He gives the coffee a few stirs to evenly spread the blend in the water, until it starts heating up.

“Be careful not to stir the coffee all the time, while it is roasting. Give a little bit more love and attention to create the right amount of kaimaki.” You give him gentle directions and he follows them to the last detail.

“What is kaimaki?” 

“It’s the creamy foam that forms on top of the coffee after brewing it.”

“It’s dark brown because of the blend?”

“Exactly. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” You give him a sly smile.

“I have a great teacher.” He reciprocates the smile and your heart skips a bit for the umpteenth time today.

Watching him brew such a difficult type of coffee with his sleeves rolled up and his deft hands carefully looking at the kaimaki makes the butterflies in your stomach dance like a hurricane.

Everything feels so intimate - from the cafe itself to the set of porcelain cups you bought as a memento from Greece, the words of the old lady who thought you bought them for a lover echoing in your head once again.

“I am turning the gas off now.” Wonwoo announces and you nod affirmatively. He does as he said and picks up the briki, but he accidentally touches the side of it and almost burns his hand.

“Fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You gasp and immediately grasp his hands, knocking down the coffee and spilling it over the counter. “Are your hands okay?!”

“I’m okay, but-”

“Oh shit.” You curse and grab a bunch of paper towels to wipe the spilled coffee before it seeps into the wood.

He notices the coffee reaching up to the base of the cups and he picks them up, putting them in the sink to wash them. He washes and dries them thoroughly, followed by the copper coffee pot.

Hurried movements and a curse of strings are heard through the glass wall, the eyes of multiple cats staring at the two of you trying to clean up the mess you made.

After a few minutes, the counter looks as good as new, but both of you look frustrated and even more tired than before.

“Well, this was an ordeal.” You let out a huff as you throw the wasted paper towels in the bin and hang your apron next to the others.

“Y/N, I am really sorry.” Wonwoo sulks, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“Wonu, it’s okay! It was just an accident, accidents happen all the time here.” You try to make him feel better.

“But you were looking forward to this-”

“Wonwoo.” You stop him from completing his sentence. “It’s okay. I am not mad at you.” You gingerly hold his face with your hands, the rate of your heart reaching Mach speed because of the heat on his skin.

You realize you’re too close for comfort and retract your hands, scared you might have overstepped his boundaries. 

“Don’t.”

Wonwoo holds your wrists with his hands and gently places them on his chest. He can feel your fingertips almost trembling, the tension skyrocketing. 

“Wonu, I don’t understand-”

He gently holds the side of your neck and kisses you with the desire he was holding for the past two months. He lets go of his uncertainty and embraces his feelings for you, expressing them through this kiss.

It feels like you’re in a fever dream, every fiber of your existence is standing on the edge of inferno and you don’t want it to stop. Yet his mouth feels like an oasis - and you won’t let anything separate you from it.

You let out a whine when Wonwoo breaks the kiss, but you shudder when he rips his glasses off his face and lifts you up to put you on top of the counter.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to feel your touch on me, Y/N.” He rasps. “You’ve been plaguing my thoughts ever since I met you and I just couldn’t-”

You cut him off by pulling the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on him again, seizing control this time. You wrap your legs around his waist and jerk his body forward, colliding with your chest.

Your hands are deeply rooted in his permed locks, raking your nails on his scalp. He’s no better than you, his palms glued to your thighs.

“I’ve been feeling the exact same way, Wonu.” You moan against his mouth.

“God, please don’t stop calling me that.” 

“I had no intention of stopping, Wonu.”

He breaks the kiss again and pushes you on your back, planting his hands on each side of your head. 

“Please tell me you want this.” He begs you. “I want, need to touch you, take care of you, fucking worship you.” 

“Do it. Please do it, Wonu, I need you so bad.” 

He lets out a shaky breath and unbuttons the first three buttons of his shirt and bunches up your sweater to reveal the hem of your jeans and unbutton it with the same dexterity he uses his camera. He pulls them down and lets the fabric pool in front of his feet, his hands caressing your naked legs.

“Pretty.” He fiddles with the lacey details of your panties.

“Me or my underwear?” 

“Both.” 

“Smooth. But as much as I’d love you to sweet talk, I think you should do other things with your mouth.”

“Your wish is my command, sunshine.” 

Wonwoo puts your legs over his shoulders and tenderly traces his lips on your inner thighs, giving you a glance before sliding your panties to the side.

He gives your clit a quick peck and glides his tongue through your folds, all the way down to your entrance. And repeats the motion, again and again, speeding up with each drag of his wet muscle.

You drag your nails on the mahogany counter and bite your bottom lip to suppress your moans, but his mouth is being so kind and loving to your pussy that it makes you want to scream his name until the windows crash in tiny pieces from the volume of your voice.

He stops to take a breather, a glossy film coating his lips. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Never thought the shy photographer slash barista would be cursing after eating pussy like a God.” You laugh breathlessly.

���I can do much more, if you let me.” He suggests with a gaze full of desire, lips parted again and ready to engulf your clit again.

“I will, but not here.” You put your hand in his hair to stop him. “I don’t want to risk being seen by bypassing people.”

“I don’t know about people, but there are a bunch of cats staring from the glass wall.” Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you gasp when you turn your head towards the window and you see thirteen pairs of glowing cat eyes staring at the two of you.

“I love them but they are fucking scaring me right now, can we please get out of here?” You ask him.

“My place or yours?” Wonwoo picks up your jeans and gives them to you to put them on.

“Mine is a twenty-minute ride with the bus from here.” You say.

“My place it is, then.” Wonwoo grins as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Hope you aren’t scared of motorbikes.”

“Would you laugh if I said I’ve been thinking of being your backpack princess?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I brought an extra helmet just in case you wanted to be my backpack princess?”

“Who are you and what have you done to the cute and super shy Wonwoo?” You shoot him a playful glare.

“He’s still here. He just decided to act according to his desires and feelings.”

“I would like you to pass him my earnest thanks.”

“He accepts them with pleasure. Ready to go?” He offers you his hand.

“Yes sir.” You giggle and button your jeans, lacing your hand with his, as he guides you out of the cafe.

You make sure you turn off the lights and lock the doors before Wonwoo hands you over the extra helmet, checking up on whether you fastened it good enough. As soon as you settle on the bike behind him, he turns on the engine and grabs your arms, putting them around his waist, as if he’s telling you to hold on tight. You let out a squeal when he speeds away from the cafe, but the helmet around your head mutes your voice. Even though it’s your first time riding on a bike, you’re not scared at all. If anything, you find it very fun and kind of liberating.

Perhaps it’s the fact that Wonwoo reciprocated your feelings after two months of mutual pining.

You don’t even realize how fast the time passes when Wonwoo taps your hands to let go of him and get off the bike.

“W-We’re here already?” You ask dumbfounded as you take off the helmet.

“Baby, I wasn’t even speeding up.” He chuckles as he turns off the engine of the bike, taking off his own helmet. “But it’s for the better, I suppose.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it means you’re looking forward to what will happen within that house.” He smirks in your face and you grab his hand, pulling him towards the entrance.

“You’re so eager.” He’s trying to fish out his keys from his bag.

“I wonder whose fault is that.” You tease him.

“I intend to make it up to you, sweetheart.” He reassures you and finds the keys after a bit of searching, sliding them in the keyhole to unlock the door.

As soon as both of you are inside his house, you pin him on the door and kiss him hungrily, your hands sliding off your coat first and his jacket second, aiming for his buttoned shirt next.

“Bedroom, please.” Wonwoo breaks the kiss and you nod in agreement. He lifts you up in his arms, his arms under your thighs keeping you safe. 

You’re certain he’s gonna pin you down on the bed, but you’re proven wrong when he pins you on the nearest bedroom wall, grinding his clothed bulge right on your crotch.

“Didn’t peg you for the needy type.” You grip his shoulders to hold onto him tighter.

“How can I not be needy when I have the girl of my dreams right where I want her?” He groans and lets down your legs, hands flying to the button of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Fuck yes, please throw them away if you can.” You breathe heavily.

He eagerly unbuttons your jeans and drags them down along with your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He then unbuttons his own jeans, dropping them down to his ankles with his boxers and kicking them away. He’s just one thrust away from entering you, but his mind goes blank.

“Wonwoo? What’s wrong?”

“I- Fuck, I don’t have any condoms.” He curses under his breath.

“It’s okay. I am clean and on the pill, you can go raw.” You reassure him.

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too! Are you clean?” 

“Yeah, I got tested two weeks ago and haven’t slept with someone for God knows how long.” He blurts out, cheeks flushed a cute pink.

“You’re so cute.” You stifle a laugh.

“You and your pussy are cuter than me, darling.” He laughs and hooks his forearms under your thighs to pry them open and keep them locked closed to your chest. The wall is cold against your back, but the rest of your body feels on fire.

You let out a whiny moan when Wonwoo starts by pushing the tip of his cock, taking his time to ease himself inside you and not hurt you. When he finally manages to fit his shaft in your hole, he throws his head back and his mouth falls open, deep moans vibrating from his chest.

“You’re- Oh god, Wonwoo, it feels so full.” You dig your nails in his shoulder blades, bunching up the dress shirt.

“Fuuuuck, I know.” He groans and pulls his hips away until only his tip is inside you, pushing back with a fluid thrust. A gasp escapes your lips when the thrust makes your body jerk up against the wall.

“Ah- Please do that again.” You beg, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“Shit, with pleasure.” He licks his bottom lip and thrusts inside you the same way, his eyes glued on your face to study your expressions.

He gets the green light when you nod in agreement and repeats the same thrusting pattern, full-bodied yet slow thrusts that rub your molten walls deliciously.

None of you are able to form coherent sentences, you only express yourselves through wanton moans. You feel your skin getting sticky with sweat and your orgasm starting to build up dangerously close to the climax.

“Are you close, sunshine?” He asks you between pants and you nod furiously.

“Hold on tight.” He instructs you and you claw on him like a rescued cat as he lifts you from the wall and walks over to the bed, gently placing you on your back on the mattress. 

“W-Wonu, please, I need to cum!” You hiccup and try to wrap your legs around his waist.

“I know, baby, I know.” He puts one knee on the mattress and angles your hips upwards to hit it deeper. He bends his torso down to touch your chest, his lips hovering over yours as his breath mingles with yours.

“Wanna cum together, sunshine?”

“Yes, yes, please!” 

“Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside, fuck, do it inside!”

Wonwoo gasps loudly and loses his balance, crumbling on you at the same time his orgasm crashes upon him. His back shudders while his cock paints your walls white and your lips are busy kissing and biting his neck to muffle your own orgasmic noises. Your walls clench around his cock and you milk him dry until he has nothing else to give, breathing against his neck rapidly.

Both of you take some time and remain still, your breaths slowly regaining their normal rhythms. You can feel your body complaining, legs growing limp and your torso being crushed by Wonwoo’s weight.

“Wonu, you’re heavy…”

“Fuck, sorry.” He gently lifts himself off you and his cock slips out of your pussy, the mixture of your cum and his nearly spilling on the sheets. He’s fast enough to catch it with his fingers and push it back inside you, enjoying the way you shudder for him/

“Wonu!”

“I couldn’t help it, sunshine. Not when you look so pretty.” He sucks his fingers clean. “And taste so damn good.”

“Can you just…clean me up?”

“You didn’t even have to tell me.” 

He picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, letting you sit on the edge of the tub as he lets the water from the tap run warm.

“Do you mind if I fall asleep in the process?” You mumble tiredly.

“Not at all, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything, you don’t have to worry.” He presses a kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, Wonu.”

You end up falling asleep halfway through the bath, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind. The lovesick grin on his face doesn’t falter until he’s done drying your hair and putting you in a pair of clean comfy clothes - his clothes.

As soon as you’re under the bedsheets, you cling onto him in your sleep, chest rising and falling peacefully in his arms.

Wonwoo can’t believe this is real, even if he can touch your face and hug you closer to his body. 

There is one thing coursing through his mind before drifting off to sleep - Seokmin was right after all.

Your deep slumber is disturbed by the ringtone of your phone and you grumble in your sleep to find the strength and get up to search for your phone. You nearly fall down on your knees when you try to stand up, grabbing the edge of the bed at the last minute to stabilize yourself.

“Nngh……Baby? What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks with a scratchy voice, in a similar state as you.

“Someone is calling me and I don’t know where the hell my phone is!” You curse out loud as you keep searching under the pile of clothes.

Your phone stops ringing and you plop down on the floor dramatically. 

“Y/N, it was just a phone call.” Wonwoo tries to reassure you as he gets out of bed.

“But what if it was something important?”

“Then whoever it was, they will probably call again.”

Suddenly, it hits you.

“Wonwoo, what time is it?” You ask him with fear in your eyes.

“I don’t know, let me check real quick.” He walks back to his nightstand and opens the screen of his phone, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing from his mouth.

“Wonwoo?”

“I don’t want you to panic, but it’s 10AM.” He deadpans.

“Fuck, I knew it! We’re fucking late to work!” You spring up on your feet and pick up your clothes, making a beeline for the bathroom.

You splash water over your face and almost squeal when you notice the vibrant purple marks on your neck and collarbones, mortified at the thought of someone seeing them.

“Baby, are you good there?” Wonwoo yells from the bedroom.

“No! I need a fucking turtleneck!” You yell back and stomp your way back to the bedroom.

“Okay but why?” He peeks his head from the closet and takes a better look at your torso. “Yeah, forget I asked.” He purses his lips and picks a cream colored turtleneck, giving it to you.

“God, I love you so much.” You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately put it on, running back to the bathroom. The scent of cedar and peaches gives you a hard time to focus on making your hair look presentable, but you resist the urge to duck your nose under the soft fabric.

Wonwoo does a double take on himself and decides to go with a black turtleneck, his eyes shying away from the marks you left on him last night. However, part of him feels very smug about them, knowing he’s gonna be walking in the cafe with your marks of claim all over his body.

“Come on, stop dwindling, we’re gonna be even more late!” You appear in front of him again and pull on his sleeve repeatedly.

“Oh my God, stop pulling me!” He laughs at your desperation and follows you to the living room, picking up his coat from yesterday.

About half an hour after riding on Wonwoo’s motorbike and some annoying traffic, you both make it safely into the cafe. You’re welcomed by a very frustrated Chan and the new barista intern, struggling with the coffee machine.

“And here I thought you actually ditched work today.” He gives you a smile full of irony.

“I’m really sorry, Chan, I slept through my alarm clock. I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You defend yourself with a lie while fastening your apron to get to work.

“Whatever you say.” He sighs. “Just…get to work, I’m so fucking done with this monstrosity.”

You quickly greet the new intern with a warm smile and turn your back on the two men to focus on the training at hand.

Wonwoo begins to put his camera together, checking his equipment. He can feel Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on him.

“For how long are you going to keep burning holes in my back?” The older man asks.

“Until you admit that you spent the night with Y/N.” Chan crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Wonwoo puts his camera down and straightens his back, now towering over the guy.

“Yeah, I did. Want me to tell you how exactly we spent our night?” 

“No need, I was able to put two and two together when I came here and cleaned up the entire place.” Chan pinches the bridge of his nose.

“My patience ran thin and so did hers, I guess you already know how things went down.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Well it was about fucking time, dude.” Chan pats Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You were blueballing the poor girl for two months now and I was starting to feel that way as well.” 

Chan goes to the outer space of the cafe, leaving Wonwoo utterly stunned. The younger man gets a few orders from the early customers and makes a beeline for the window seats of the cats, bypassing the table Joshua is sitting on.

“I am so sorry, darlings. I hope none of you were traumatized from whatever vulgarities you witnessed last night.” He pets them one by one, cooing at them as if they were his own kids.

“Why are you trying to console the cats?” The older man asks.

“If I were to tell you, you’d need consolation as well.” 

“Do I smell work gossip?”

“More like work porn.”

Joshua puts his hand over his mouth like a gossip girl, his eyes shining like those of an imp.

“Don’t tell me-”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Damn, I gotta give it to your intuition.”

“How about giving me a fucking break already?!” Chan whispers in frustration.

“What, you saw cum on the floor or something?” Joshua jokes, but the waiter’s expression is stone-cold.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Fucking try me, Shua.”

He turns his head around and watches you and Wonwoo giggling together, his face turning back to his friend.

“At least your work wife is happy now.”

Chan smiles gently as he leans against the wall.

“That she definitely is.”

[lilylovestowrite]

Could I request Dr Ratio with a lover who makes plushies? Reader makes plushies to sell and secretly made plushie versions of him to cuddle. Poor Ratio gets a little jealous because he loves cuddling them.

WHY NOT ME? ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ Veritas Ratio x Gn! Reader

WARNINGS ୨♡୧None

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ Veritas loves your hobby of making plushies, but you need to stop cuddling them when he’s literally right there. 

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 1.9k

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I actually make a few plushies myself! I’m a huge crochet girlie. Might post more on the crochet later <3

I thought it would be a rather funny part two to this fanfic! 

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Ah, yes. Just Dr. Veritas Ratio, his loving partner, and their six foot tall elongated cat plushie.

The dead, beady eyes stare back at him as you slumber in complete peace. The rise and fall of your body from your deep breaths irritates him: how can you be so cuddly and vulnerable with that thing rather than your boyfriend. He could try and pry it from your hands, but the death grip on the cat and your stubbornness are of equal strength. A terrifying feat, if he does say so himself. 

Veritas tries to be rational: you’ve been living alone for a while. Of course you have your habits that don’t really unstick. After your house was broken into, as your colleague, it was only natural that you move in with him since you can commute from the same place. It’s not like anything was going on. Well perhaps the tension between you two has always been more than tense, and there were a few makeout sessions in the faculty room. But your dating life truly began when moving in. 

You’ve been dating for three months now. He’s never really sought the domestic lifestyle of making breakfast together, getting ready, coming back and spending time together. Veritas has always been chasing knowledge, and love has been placed on the back burner. But seeing your drive to teach students and revive the dead Sigonian language, he can’t picture a future without the two of you debating on meaningless quantum physics theories, or historical interpretations of ancient text. It’s not logical: if the two of you drive each other to improve,  test each other’s knowledge, and most importantly love each other, doesn’t it make sense for you to be together? 

Ergo, doesn’t it make even more sense for you to be cuddling him? 

Veritas likes to think he runs purely on logic, but tonight, his pettiness gets to him. He rises from his place in your large four-poster bed and points at the cat plushie. “You bastard.” He hisses, and dives face-first into the silk pillows for some sleep. 

A little childish, sure. But wouldn’t you be if your rival in love is a six foot tall elongated CAT? 

Such a creature doesn’t exist. How ridiculous. He has to address this tomorrow.

“You’re getting upstaged by a cat, Doc?” 

Perhaps Veritas should not have called Aventurine for advice on this manner. The way you and him think are extremely similar: disorganised, chaotic, yet strangely fascinating. So naturally, he’ll get advice from someone similar to you, right?

Well now he thinks he’s messed up. He frowns and runs his hand through his hair whilst hearing Aventurine let out the most ugly laugh he’s ever heard in his life. “You know what they say, two’s a company, three’s a crowd!” He squeals with laughter.

“I don’t know why I took advice from you. You don’t even have a love life.” He snaps, and Aventurine wheezes even louder, descending into silent laughter. Veritas hangs up and buries his face in his hands. He wants to tell you to stop cuddling that cat, but you’re its creator. Is it a motherly instinct to protect your craft? He does understand it to an extent, his own hobbies such as making sculptures, and he will wipe them down wherever he sees the chance. Perhaps, to get the message across, he should cuddle a statue? He shakes his head.

‘Ridiculous idea, Veritas. Zero points.’ The man scolds himself before returning to the blackboard to lecture his class. 

You may or may not have a secret. Every night, you sleep with what seems like a six foot cat plushie, but right beside it, is a little plushie of your boyfriend: Veritas Ratio. It’s got his hair felted on, the lovely golden hairpiece he wears daily, and a lovely white wedding suit. Making plushies has become more of a hobby rather than a stress relief from your life as a Stellaron Academy Senior Professor, in fact, you’ve managed to make an online store and have sold some plushies to your colleagues. It’s a great hobby to have, the practicality and the feeling of satisfaction from completing a new project. But this one is… Slightly embarrassing. First of all, you’re not sure how he’ll feel about you making a doll of him. Will he think it’s like a voodoo doll, or think it’s creepy? Second of all, even though you’ve shoved your tongues down each other’s throats and lapped at each other like wild cats, for some stupid reason, you’re too shy to ask him to cuddle with you. Is Veritas Ratio a man who likes cuddles? Is he big spoon, little spoon, or too above showing affection? Will he stop sharing a bed with you right after? What if you snore in his face - then what? You’re not sure. You could ask, but even the idea of asking him makes you feel so weird, like, who asks if they want to cuddle? Are you a needy child? No. So you settle for a mini Veritas in hopes of not changing the dynamic between you two. Tonight, you settle in your bed, Claire de Lune playing faintly from Veritas’ phone as he reads to sleep. However, when you kiss his cheek goodnight, he glares at the cat plushie in your arms. It sends you into a mild panic: did he see mini Veritas hidden behind the cat? Worse, is he judging you for cuddling something to sleep? These thoughts plague your mind until you fall asleep, giving into your stress-induced fatigue. 

“Gambler, they kissed my cheek and dove straight under the covers. Like they were allergic to me. You are all about public relations, so riddle me this.” Ratio sighs over the phone, toned bicep leaning on his mahogany desk at work. “And be serious this time, or I will religiously remind you of your single status.” 

“Ouch, Doctor.” Aventurine’s buttery voice crackles from the phone. “Well, in order to know what people want, you sort them into what type of person they are. Sadly, you don’t work for the IPC, so you don’t get a file on your pretty little lover. But you’re not on a mission, just ask them what they want. No need to beat around the bush.” 

“What if they think I’m too clingy? Or that I disrespect their work.” 

“First of all, you’d be too clingy if they said ‘no’ and you still pestered them. Second of all, just tell them you love their plushies. You have them displayed all over your classroom, for Aeon’s sake. I think they know you love their handiwork.” 

Veritas nods: “For once, Gambler, you have given me sufficient advice. Thank you.” 

Now, he devises a plan. 

“Love.” Veritas’ voice pulls you out of your crocheting trance. You’re making a bunny plushie with black yarn, sitting next to Veritas in the lounge, who marks his student’s papers. The evening sunlight pools in the hollows of his exposed collarbones, white fluffy robe lined with golden embroidery flowers (your addition) adorns his body. 

“Yes, Veri?” You reply, looking up at him. You’re dressed in the same robe, and Veritas adores how much better white looks on you. Perhaps in the future, he would like to see you in a similar colour. 

‘Stupid, get to the point.’ He hisses at himself silently.  “About our sleeping arrangements…” 

You look up at him, going completely pale. Has he found your Veritas plushie? Oh shit, shit shit- 

“I was wondering if you would rather, well…” Veritas Ratio is a man of perhaps too many words, but for once, he seems to be tripping on his words. “...Cuddle me instead?”

You practically bounce out of your chair and corner him against the couch, “Really?” 

That visceral reaction earns a rather strangled “Yes” from him, and you sigh in relief. His amber eyes scan your face meticulously, trying to read what you’re thinking. 

“You know, I slept with a plushie of you instead, I was so nervous of asking-” You clap your hands over your mouth. You blabbed, like an idiot. And now he’s staring at you as if you were a fool. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“A plushie of me?” He asks, pointing a finger to himself, his baritone voice suddenly rising in pitch. “I thought you slept with that cat?” 

“I-It was behind the cat,” you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, “sorry, it’s really creepy. I can get rid of it-” 

“No, don’t.” He gently rests his hand on yours, unable to resist the grin. “You wanted to sleep with a copy of me? Why not ask me directly?” 

“I didn’t know if you were into cuddling, so I just assumed…” Your voice trails off, and you suddenly realise just how ridiculous you sound. “I was shy, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologise, love. Now, show me this plushie, and let’s cuddle.” He chimes. Suddenly, a gust of wind lifts a student’s test paper from his desk and it lands on his face. “Perhaps after I finish marking this blasted test.” 

“Would you like me to mark the multiple choice papers?” His eyes glimmer, handing you a pen. 

“The answer key is in the first drawer, help yourself.”

“Damn, not even the slightest bit of hesitation.” You grin. “Must be really desperate for those to be marked, huh?” 

“Oh, hush.” He scolds you gently, tapping the tip of your nose with his red pen. 

Claire de Lune permeates throughout the room, Veritas leading you in with his hand in yours. The night lamps on either side of your bedside tables emit a warm, golden glow that illuminates the lines of his jaw and accentuates the length of his lashes. He cannot contain the wide smile from spreading onto his face when he cradles the little Veritas doll in his hands: “Am I in wedding attire, love?” 

Too shy to answer the question, you throw a pillow at him and he giggles. “He’s so cute. You should make a matching one of yourself, like a couple’s item.” He suggests, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. You entertain the idea, wrapping your own arms around him and resting both of your hands on his back, the blades of his shoulders emitting warmth. It’s not too bad at all, Veritas thinks, the smile unable to be wiped from his face when he sees how easily you melt into his arms. Even like this, intimacy seems more natural than your little routine of hugging plushie Veritas. The toy doesn’t breathe like him, isn’t warm, and doesn’t vibrate every time he speaks when you rest your face on his chest. Both of your heartbeats seem to slow to a normal rate as you speak about your day in more depth. Eventually, however, the scent of pinewood and light cologne mix to form a homely aroma, lulling the both of you to sleep halfway through a conversation about ancient history. 

A few mornings later, you find your Veritas plushie on his working desk at home. Right next to it is a small statue of the same height, but it’s of you in wedding attire too. “Veri? Did you make this?” You call out to him, and he emerges from the kitchen. Although a blush paints his cheeks, he raises a glass of coffee to the two plushies.  

“I just wanted to have a reference for when it happens in reality. It’s only logical, right?” 

[kykyonthemoon]

[Headcanons] To be a father

His reaction and interaction with his first and unexpected child.

ಇ. Character x MC (Female Reader) - in third pov.

Parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb.

ಇ. Tags: headcanons only, fluff, domestic fluff, family fluff, (unplanned) pregnancy and child birth mentioned, reader insert but I'm using pronouns she/her for MC, he/she and his/her pronouns for all of the babies in this post.

ಇ. Word count: 2k5

ಇ. Ky Ky's notes: This is not a complete fanfic, rather a post of my headcanons about the men and MC having their first baby, and it's unexpected.

Based on many requests of the same plot I've got so far, from Cá Cá đến hôn em một cái, an Anon-san requesting about Zayne dealing with MC's morning sickness, and another Anon-san who sent a three-ask-long request in my askbox.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Rafayel

With all of his innocence, Rafayel will just note that MC has been a little fatigued recently, without knowing why.

She senses something, but is unsure whether a human can become pregnant with a Lemurian.

When she returns from the hospital with certain results in hand, she's shaking. Rafayel keeps asking until she tells him the truth. 

Rafayel is rather astonished. "Are you sure there's a baby in your belly, not just fat?"

She simply wants to beat him hard. They could not comprehend what is occurring; it's like a miracle.

Rafayel ponders if the child would be more like him or her. He begins speaking to her tummy with the sound "glub glub glub". 

Every day, Rafayel performs music and paints in front of MC. He claims that he does this so that the child in her tummy may experience art from a young age.

When she experiences morning sickness, Rafayel develops similar symptoms. He grumbles and worries more than her. As a result, she needs to care for both of them.

Rafayel invites Talia to stay for some time, keeping her company and learning more about this half-human, half-Lemurian child. As a result, MC discovers a number of intriguing details regarding Rafayel's childhood. 

Every morning when she wakes up, the first question he asks is, "Has the baby come out yet?" She is both annoyed and amused, telling him it is still too early.

The day MC goes into labor, people discover him crying in a corner. When he holds the baby for the first time, he checks to see if he/she has legs or a fish tail. Then he cuddles the infant and continues to cry out of delight. It appears that throughout MC's pregnancy, he gets exceedingly sensitive and tears more easily.

Rafayel has set up a separate nursery with all of the necessary supplies a long time ago. He almost moves in there after the baby is born.

Rafayel speaks to his child in a baby voice, occasionally using fish language. This does not alter even as the kid grows older. He/she may feel embarrassed when his/her father speaks to them in this manner in front of others.

He frequently calls his child by intimate names, most of which are related to fish. 

Other babies’ first word might be “dad” or “mom”, but the first word that ever comes out of their child’s mouth must be “glub”.

Rafayel purchases only the most adorable baby items. He additionally designs his own pillows, toys, and other baby-related products.

Rafayel is the sort of dad that pushes his child in a stroller around the mall. After that, he would most likely forget about his own child and return home alone. To him, the kid is capable of finding his/her own way home. But after being scolded by MC, he rushes back to fetch the kid.

The father and his child regularly go to the beach together. He educates the kid about Lemuria, art, and the beautiful world where his or her mother grew up.

Rafayel frequently pulls pranks with the kid, causing MC a headache. It's like having two children under the same roof at the same time. Her parenting style differs from his. The young child could prefer Rafayel because MC can be so strict at times. When she scolds and disciplines the child, he typically sides with the child. It ends up with both of them punished together.

The child possesses the strength of a Lemurian, but his or her body is more resilient and not as vulnerable on land.

Rafayel likes to lull his baby to sleep with ancient Lemurian melodies. He also tells him/her goodnight stories, after which the two cuddle and fall asleep comfortably. MC would frequently embrace Rafayel from behind or place the child between the two of them.

Xavier

Neither Xavier nor MC are aware of the pregnancy until she faints on a mission.

When he arrives at the hospital, the doctor informs him that there is a little life in her tummy.

Xavier sits for a long time in front of the waiting room, trembling from the emotions in his heart.

When MC gets up, he is the one to tell her the news and she almost faints again.

Since neither of them is prepared to have children, life has become more chaotic. She develops morning sickness and tension, and she is only permitted to perform desk jobs rather than fighting, which drives her insane as she feels excluded and is frequently uncomfortable.

Xavier gently remains by her side to care for her, even on difficult days when she grumbles at him.

He pats her abdomen and murmurs to the baby: "Come out soon so you don't hurt mommy anymore, okay?" Then he would softly kiss her tummy.

Xavier buys almost every parenting guide he could find. He also follows the suggestions in there, seeking for healthy meals, performing mild workouts with MC, and giving her massages. 

He handles all of the tidying up throughout her pregnancy, but she would not let him near the kitchen. 

The day she gives birth to a beautiful child, Xavier cuddles the baby and kisses her forehead, praising her for the most precious present he could ever have.

She frequently sees Xavier in the nursery, cradling his baby, but he falls asleep even before the child. At that moment, MC simply grins and gently drapes a blanket over his shoulders.

She believes this child is more like Xavier than herself. Take a look at how he/she can sleep anywhere, anytime. They can hold hands and sleep on the sofa while the TV is on. He/she has the same taste as Xavier, preferring meat and leaving all veggies to MC. 

As the kid grows older, he/she develops an interest in superheroes. Of fact, he or she idolizes Lumiere much more than MC. The child begs his/her parents to buy Lumiere's merchandise to fill the room, and occasionally even asks Xavier to play the role of this hero.

Xavier loves to create light shows for his child, receiving praise and admiration from him/her. To become a child's entire universe, he spends a lot of time researching how to build and construct toys for his kid. 

The child soon becomes the youngest plushie collector in Linkon.

Compared to going out, Xavier and his child prefer staying at home together. Both spend much of their time asleep.

Whenever MC is away from home, Xavier and the child often do not care much about their meals. But when she returns, the whole family would have a hearty meal. She plans to teach the child to cook at a young age so that he/she might aid her in the future. 

Even though Xavier adores the child, MC remains his primary focus. He spoils her more than his child, so the baby sometimes has to get between the two of them for attention.

When she becomes preoccupied with the infant and loses sight of Xavier, he appears sad and attempts to reclaim her attention by assisting her in caring for the baby. He enjoys taking care of both of them and frequently reminds the child who actually is his /her mother's most favorite.

The child prefers to sleep in his or her parents' room more. His/her favorite position is between the two of them. When he/she falls asleep, Xavier will covertly carry the child back to his/her room before returning to the MC's side and sealing the door so they are no longer disturbed.

Zayne

As her physician, Zayne is aware of MC's pregnancy before she is. He is familiar with her period and has received the results of her frequent checkups.

Zayne is astonished because neither of them expected to have a kid at that point. He doesn't know how to tell her either. Finally, he decides to get a box of excellent macarons for her. She finds it strange, so she inquires whether it is for a particular occasion.

Zayne pauses for a time, then stares deeply into her eyes before quietly saying: "You... are pregnant."

As if lightning has struck, she drops the macaron she's about to bite. Zayne has to catch her before she faints. 

It takes her a bit to recover her composure. What sort of mother would MC be if she hadn't prepared anything? She is completely unaware of how to care for an unborn child or infant.

Zayne appears calm as he soothes her, but that night she discreetly observes him grinning ear to ear in the study, while pursuing further medical documents.

He also takes special care of her more than ever. Morning sickness is also more bearable with him by her side. He constantly checks her and their child's health, ensuring that she receives the greatest and most timely medical care. MC is just concerned with eating nutritious meals and preparing for their future child.

Zayne would pre-register her for pregnancy care, infant care, and any other classes that he deemed essential.

Zayne also intends to raise their child from infancy to college. MC could only gaze at him, surprised, with big round eyes. As anticipated from Linkon's brilliant young doctor.

He would alter his entire schedule to ensure that he could always be there when she needs him. 

He's constantly by her side throughout childbirth. No matter how hard she scratches or squeezes his palm, all he does is softly console her.

Zayne is excellent at caring for children. Since the baby is born, he devotes all his time and energy to care for him/her. Afraid that MC would be upset since they couldn't have much private time together anymore, he would compensate with sweets and do something they both enjoy (such as watching a movie together).

Children often get sick, and when their baby does, Zayne attentively takes care of him/her until he/she gets better. 

He asks his child to eat veggies to gain enough nutrition, but whenever the kid leaves the carrots out for him, he slyly puts them on MC's plate.

Zayne is the type of parent who can hold a baby and work at the same time; or hold their child while carrying all the bags for MC when they go out shopping.

Their child is exceptionally smart and obedient, as well as silent, yet whatever he or she says amazes the MC. He/She takes after Zayne more than her. He/She is adored and spent time with by everyone at Akso Hospital. People often praise the child for his/her courteous and well-mannered behavior, which makes MC chuckle, while Zayne fails to hide his proud smile.

However, as a child, there are times when he/she may become too playful and lose sight of his or her responsibilities. Zayne has the strict role in the family. He disciplines the child not with whipping or scolding, but rather with a reasonable consequence and reward. He assigns a chore to the child and promises prizes if he/she completes it successfully. Otherwise, he/she will face a penalty.

Zayne might be very strict at times, leaving the child afraid and furious. He/she runs to the MC with a gloomy look. She speaks a few words to get him/her away with this, but seeing Zayne's stone-cold face, fearful of being criticized by him too, she pushes the kid forward with encouragement: "You asked for it, dear."

Even still, after every tantrum, the child would always find candy that Zayne has mistakenly placed in an easily accessible location.

The kid frequently begs Zayne to make popsicles for him/her or to serve as his/her own portable air conditioner when it's hot outside. 

On occasions when the whole family has a day off, Zayne often takes them out of town in his car. In addition, he usually brings the child to the hospital to participate in some volunteer activities there.

Caleb

MC remembers that Caleb is petrified for a long time after hearing her announce the pregnancy.

Then he walks out into the backyard, and she hears him scream so loud that the whole neighborhood could hear, "I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER!"

The next thing she knows, he has rushed inside, scooped her up like a princess, and spun her around the room. When he comes to a halt, she notices his eyes are bright red. He embraces her for a long time, thanking her for giving him the most precious thing in this world.

Caleb is paying more attention to her meals, even learning how to prepare new nutritional foods for the two of them, rather than simply following her appetite. He also ensures that she eats and drinks more.

Due to his profession, he frequently departs for far away missions, but every day he checks on her health and reminds her to eat on time and to arrange regular prenatal checkups. 

Caleb couldn't be with her as often during the pregnancy, which made it really tough for MC. She regularly tears when she gets upset. However, he surprises her and makes her happy by returning home without calling first. He states that he's on long-term leave to take care of her.

Caleb previously talked about MC so much that all of his Academy friends and coworkers are familiar with her. He is now filled with tremendous delight and pride as he talks about their upcoming kid.

Even before the baby arrives, he/she already receives many gifts and necessary items from his/her parents' colleagues. 

After having a kid, Caleb accepts short-term assignments closer to Linkon. He enjoys spending time with his family the most, and every time he's home, MC feels like everything becomes cozier.

She sometimes recalls their childhood while seeing Caleb care for and play with the baby.

He is always present on important occasions for the whole family, when the baby takes his/her first steps and babbles a few unclear words. He has a collection of images and videos capturing such moments.

Caleb occasionally becomes strict with his child and educates him/her using the similar disciplinary methods he learned at the Academy. But in the end, he always manages to comfort the child.

"Don't argue with mom." and "Mom is always right." are the things Caleb tells his child every time he/she gets scolded by MC.

The child is quite active. Anyone can tell since he/she possesses all of the stubbornness and mischief of MC and Caleb combined. Caleb enjoys playing sports and doing outdoor activities with his child. He often carries him/her on his back or lets him/her sit on his shoulders when they go out.

Caleb frequently engages in daring activities with his child that make MC's pulse race. But he never allows the kid to be injured or frightened.

Caleb likes to call his child by affectionate names. But every time he calls "baby" or "sweetie", or "pip-squeak", both MC and the child turn around. 

When Caleb takes on long-term assignments away from home, sometimes the child would miss his/her father and cries. But as soon as he/she finds MC sobbing, he/she will hold her and console her in the same manner Caleb does. That's what he has taught his child. And when he returns, the entire family will spend all their time together. The memories he creates with his child always make him/her joyful and grateful every time he comes home.

As requested in my ask box:

Header images used at the top of this post by: x

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well hi there! I’d like to start with an apology, I jumped onto the ‘Sobel’s an asshole’ bandwagon HARD. It’s all for the sake of the story and it gets muuuuch worse … so strap in folks!

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: Smoking, Sobel is a bully, meal skipping….that could be it? Comment or message if I missed something and I’ll add :)

Made of Glass

Chapter three: Cigarette smoke

Birdie's first week in Easy was lonely, but her second week was hell.

Sobel had woken up on a random Thursday and made it his personal mission to send her over the edge. The week started normally, she was getting to know her weapon, had befriended the kitchen staff and most of the other women, all seemed well.

Too well.

Toward the end of the week Sobel snapped, he'd seemingly had enough of the Mississippi woman. Easy company were lining up for the obstacle course, taking turns running through it. They had all been through at least twice and the onset of sweat was starting to show on their foreheads, all the while Sobel screamed at them to do better. All typical so far.

Birdie had her turn, making it to the eight foot wall and paused momentarily, she bent slightly with hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Sobel noticed her hesitation and let loose. This was what he had been waiting for, a reason to dismiss her, a weakness.

“What's the matter Private Coldwell? Are you getting tired?” His voice boomed out, startling her upright.

“No, sir.” She called back to him.

“Then get over that wall, Private.” Bernadette nodded with determination. She took a run at the looming giant but her fingertips could not reach the top and she slid down the side.

“Again!” Sobel yelled from behind her, but every time she ran and jumped, she fell short and found herself on the wrong side of the wretched wall. It towered above her, taunting and tormenting her, as was her CO barked at her to try again every time she failed. Her attempts grew sloppier as her body slowly gave up, but Sobel kept sounding off, not caring about the 5'5” woman or her inability to jump that high.

“Private Coldwell, you will go back to the start and run the course again, if you do not get over that wall, you will go back to the start and run the course until you do.” Sobel huffed at her, she nodded and gasped out a 'yes, sir' before following his orders and returning to the beginning of the obstacle course.

Each time Birdie ran the course, the wall eluded her and she was made to start over.

Eventually Sobel ordered all men to stop and left Birdie solo to continue battling through the obstacles. Things that were simple for her at the beginning of the day now took much more effort to get through, but she pushed on, knowing Sobel was testing her and the entire company was watching her every move. She couldn't afford to mess up now, she had to prove it to Sobel, the Easy company men and herself that she belonged there, that in dire times they could rely on her just as much as any other man in the company.

So she pushed herself and kept going till her face was red, her shirt was drenched in sweat and her breath was uneven, burning her lungs with every inhale. When she felt like she couldn't possibly move another inch, she physically shook the thought out of her head and kept going.

Sobel would wait for her by the cursed wall and sneer at her when she failed and each time he would ask her,

“Getting tired?” or some variation and each time she replied with,

“No, sir.” before turning to restart the course. What else could she say? Yes I'm tired, send me on home? No way.

Just when Bernadette thought she might pass out, Sobel stopped her. She panted, trying to regain her composure as he spoke at her.

“You look tired, Private Coldwell.” As if it was an automatic reply, she sounded off a 'No, sir.'

“Then you wouldn't mind guard duty tonight, would you?” He smirked as if he'd figured it out: A way to force her to quit. It was that smirk that compelled her to agree to the loaded question. If she said no, it would show weakness and then neither the men nor her CO would trust her. If she said yes, she’d have to give up precious sleep time to practice standing around, and after today she sure was in need of a full nights sleep.

Bernadette rationalised that although she was yet to have a night shift, she was pretty sure she could take two hours of mindless waiting. So she nodded, agreeing to take on a shift.

“Great, you'll take Perconte's shift, 19:30 to 21:30....”

'Well, okay,' she mused to herself, 'that was doable.'

“And Malarkey's... and Wynn's... and More's... and Toye’s.” Before she could open her mouth to protest, he turned on his heel, smirking and marched away, leaving not only Birdie but the rest of Easy aghast.

The southern girl tried not to think about how tired her body was for the rest of the day, she tried not to think about the full ten hours of standing in silence that awaited her while she could be tucked into her army issued bed, fast asleep.

She sat through dinner in a numb state, leaving her food untouched. The only feeling she could recognise were the ache of her feet that were surely blistered and the twinge of her muscles that screamed every time she moved.

Eventually the clock struck 19:30 when she arrived at the guard post in full uniform with her unloaded gun by her side. News of the busy night she had ahead of her had spread around camp and she caught multiple pitied looks on her way, it felt like she was walking towards the gallows.

The first shift was a breeze, uneventful and quite. It wasn't until 21:30 that she even saw another human being. One of the Easy company men, she definitely recognised him but had to rely on the white name tag on his chest that read: Malarkey.

“Private Coldwell.” He gave her a nod, which she returned.

“Private Malarkey.” A small somewhat awkward pause ensued.

“Are you here to relieve me? Cause it was my understandin' that I had all five shifts tonight?” The southerner spoke up, her head tilting to the side to convey her confusion. Malarkey let out a breathy chuckle laced with nervous energy.

“No, ma’am. Captain Sobel sent me… to uh- to make sure you weren’t... slacking off…” he looked down, bashfully, as if embarrassed to be telling her that her own CO doesn’t trust her. Not like she didn’t already know.

“Oh, I see. I reckon I’ll be having a couple more visitations then?” When he nodded to confirm her thoughts, she almost rolled her eyes.

“Well thanks for lettin' me know.”

“Yea, about that….” His eyes fell to the floor once again, “I actually wasn’t supposed to say anything…” he trailed off, hoping she’d catch his meaning.

“Got it. My lips are sealed.” Her hands made a zipping gesture in front of her mouth and a genuine smile broke out on her face, which in turn cause the redhead in front of her to grin too.

“Okay well, I’ll be seeing you.”

“You sure will.” And just like that he was gone and Birdie was back to standing aimlessly and staring at nothing. She pulled out her pack of cigarettes (which she almost hadn’t brought with her) and pulled one out, lighting it and taking a long drag. This was about to be a long night.

The next two men came in increments of two hours. Appearing round a corner, only giving her a curt nod and a quick greeting, which she returned, before leaving.

They really were just checking to see if she’d fallen asleep or run off to bed.

Somewhere during the fourth shift she had lit her last smoke. The empty pack seemed to laugh at her so she tossed it in the metal barrel with the word ‘BUTTS’ painted on the side before returning to look at nothing, do nothing and say nothing.

The last man, Toye, she read off his uniform, was different. He cruised towards her, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the way. When he stopped in front of her he held out the pack, a silent offer. She paused for a moment, her brain was foggy and it took her a second for her thoughts to catch up. Then she reached for one and popped it between her lips, leaning forward for him to light it.

He lit his own and the two stood and puffed for a minute before either of them said anything.

“Joe Toye.” He extended his hand out.

“Bernadette Coldwell.” She accepted the invitation and shook his hand.

“Been quiet?” He sucked in, filling his lungs with the gray cloud before slowly breathing it out.

“Yeah…. It always this quiet?” She mimics his actions.

“On night shift? Pretty much.” His voice was gravely and deep, Birdie’s eyes drooped at his tone, the sleepiness hit her quick.

“Only two more hours.” He reminded her, noticing the tired haze that sweep across her face. She nodded in her dazed state and flicked her cigarette butt into the metal barrel next to her.

"Lucky me." Birdie mused.

“Here.” Joe took her hand and placed the rest of his pack in her palm. She looked down at it, processed the action.

“I can’t take this-“ she began to say but he just waved her off, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t. Just take it and say thank you.” His parting words, thrown over his shoulder as he walked away and disappeared round the corner.

“Thank you.” Birdie whispered, smiling to herself as she turned the pack over in her hands. It sure felt like she was making at least one friend in Easy.

The next two hours were spent watching the sunrise with a smoke in her hand and smiling as she replayed the encounter in her mind.

She had noticed the guys from afar, heard parts of their inside jokes and had a feel of who would be chatty and who was most likely to pull the hair like a bully on the playground. Joe Toye was one of the latter. She’d noticed his stand-off ish behaviour even with the guys and assumed he’d be one of the Easy men that just never accepted her and ignored her forever.

Oh, had she been wrong.

A/N: Yay! Birdie's making friends!

As always pls lmk how I’m doing cause I have no idea what's going on xx

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter four

[otakubimbo]

Don't Lose Control

Miguel x F!Reader

Plot w/ porn.

My legally required sex pollen fic as a fanfic writer. @safixiovi requested Miguel so here we are.

You and Miguel are on a mission together and nothing is going right. Your tech is all messed up and now it seems Miguel has gotten sick from something. He felt as if he was losing control of himself.

OB Sticky: I wrote this with one hand in my pants so excuse any grammatical errors and definitely not proofread. Also writing smut make me so embarrassed so if you hate it, don't. <3 Reblogs and Likes welcome, requests are still open.

masterlist

Confusion was written all over your face as you looked at the data on your computer in the universe you and Miguel were in currently. You had been working on tech to detect fluctuations in the multi-verse that could detect where anomalies would appear before they did. It had been doing well for the last few weeks, you were able to detect the appearance of an anomaly in three separate universes. So, the confusion now came with the fact that the monitor was detecting two fluctuations in the universe you were currently in, but nothing was showing up. The two of y’all had separated, you went to check out one of the fluctuations and he went to the other. But nothing, nothing was there in the area that read the fluctuations.

You groan out in the abandoned building that you were in, frustrated at the lack of any appearances.

“It was working so well, what the hell?” You grumble to yourself, typing in code strings into your computer trying to see if you can recalibrate the device that it was connected to get a more accurate reading. As your frustrations grew, your watch started going off for an incoming call. You answer it in hopes that at least on his end there was at least a sighting on his end.

“I’m in a damn field and not a single sight of anything but clouds of pollen.” Miguel’s digital image huffs at you. You groan, rubbing your face in irritation.

“Let’s fucking call it then and find somewhere to stay tonight or whatever.” You say abruptly hanging up on him. He would be able to find you, you knew that, and you didn’t really have the energy to hear his complaints about your tech or whatever he had to say.

Meanwhile, with Miguel.

You really hung up on him, in his face when it was your idea to have the both of you out here testing out your tech. Jess was left in charge while the two of you were gone but still, you had insisted and yet there was nothing here and the two of y’all had been at this investigation all day.  He cursed in Spanish as he coughed from all the pollen he was inhaling. It was everywhere, irritating his throat, eyes, and skin. It wasn’t even that he was frustrated your tech was having what seemed to be issues, it was that you insisted on checking things out separately when he figured the whole reason you wanted him here was to do this mission together, with each other. He had grown accustomed to your presence, to your voice, to your smile. It was all while you were figuring out the mechanics of this new tech of yours. To a certain extent, he was always fond of you, he had found you brilliant, driven, and innovative, one of the few spiders he could tolerate. But things started to change when you came up with the idea for this tech, the glittering in your eyes as you made strides on it. Every new aspect you brought to him, you picked his brain late into the night. The time the two of you spent together increased over the months and he realized that he really enjoyed your company. You brought a certain type of peace to him that he never thought he would get before, he actually started going to sleep more at night because he would make you go to bed which you wouldn’t unless he agreed to also. The two of you had got as close as someone could to Miguel.

Miguel cursed again as he felt his body heating up as he went to the directions you sent him for where the two of you would be spending the night he figured. He assumed he just needed to get whatever was in that field off of him and he would be fine after that. When he found you in the crowded lobby of the hotel, you looked irritated but so damn sexy.

Wait.

Where was his mind going right then? He would have to be blind not to realize that you were attractive. Of course, he acknowledged that about you, almost every spider has mentioned it since the day you joined. But the way you looked right now, drive a man to sin. Your curls were down for once, edges slightly sweated out, your skin held a red tone which made your brown skin glow slightly. It was obvious that you were frustrated with the way your nose crinkled making your nose hoop push up slightly on your face. The way your arms were crossed against your chest pushed your breasts up in a way that had them almost spilling out the top of your tank top, the sight going straight to his dick. His breathing started getting heavy as he gazed at you and then finally caught your eye, having you quickly walk towards him realizing how much of a sway to your hips there is when you walk had him feeling parched.  

“O’Hara, we have a problem” You start as you let out an exasperated breath looking up at him. This is when you notice his appearance, he is red, EXTREMELY RED, looking as if he just took on several baddies right before getting there. 

“Is everything okay?” concern is written all over your face as you gaze up at him, lips slightly parted and all Miguel could think about is what they would look like wrapped around his-----. His thoughts were cut off by you calling his name.

“Yeah, I’m fine, that stupid pollen is just all over me. Irritating” He brushes your concerns off saying a few curses in Spanish.

“Okay, well, they only had one room available because apparently there’s some sort of festival going on and I got the last room that was available at like any hotel.” You say as you shift your bag on your shoulder, which takes Miguel's focus back to your chest. The silver chain around your neck sits right above your cleavage. All he could think about was how high would it bounce if you were to ride his---

Again his thoughts were cut off by your voice.

“Alright, let's just get you to the room so you can get whatever is on you off and I can do some work.” You say as you grab his arm, dragging him to the elevators so you can get to your shared room. You didn’t have any clue what was wrong with Miguel, he never usually seemed so zoned out but you assumed whatever the field he was in was affecting him and his focus. His powers were different than other spiders, so you could figure that it was probably a chemical from their plants that was messing with him. You would have to send it off for some tests to see what it could be.

Once in the room, you tell Miguel to go ahead and use the shower to get himself together after you grab a sample of what was on him to send to Lyla.

“Hey Ly, can you analyze this? It got on Mig and he’s been dazed and out of it ever since we got to the hotel.” You say as you speak to the AI. She gives you a knowing look when you mention a hotel and she hears the sound of a shower in the background. “Don’t start, there’s literally no other rooms anywhere and I don’t want to leave tonight just in case the readings were actually accurate, and two anomalies show up. It wouldn’t be logical to leave just set.”

Lyla knew the way you felt for Miguel, she was there while yall were spending all of that time together. The looks that you took at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the way you would sigh contently while working in the lab with him, and the way you spoke to him when it was just the two of you. Anyone with eyes could see how attractive that man was but it wasn’t just that which is what made you fall for him. Regardless of the way he could come off, he was kind and caring. He may not show it in the ways that other people did but he had such a big heart and was truly thoughtful of other people. The man would take everything on his shoulders just to make things easier for everyone. You admired him, you adored him, and he made you feel safe and understood and cared for. You really liked him, it didn’t help that he was a walking Adonis. His looks were just the cherry on top for you. Everyone seemed to know your affinity for him, except him. It didn’t help that you were always making excuses for his behavior, Jess would make jokes at your expense all the time about it.

“But the two of you sharing a room it seems?” Lyla giggles coming to sit on your shoulder.

“Cause there wasn’t anything else available” You whisper hiss at her, and she just giggles again “Please just analyze the sample I sent”

“Anything for Miguels other half.” She jokes as she fades away, and you just groan trying to focus back on your readings and tech.

Miguel did not want you that way. You knew that, he would never want you that way. He was a serious man with a hard past that never allowed for the option of romance. The multiverse and stopping anomalies were more than enough to occupy Miguel's mind and heart. You sigh, knowing that your affection will never be returned by him busying yourself with your work while he finishes his shower.

While in the shower, Miguel had already cum two times, and nothing was helping. His mind only filled with you and how you would feel under him, on top of him, how your lips would feel, the noises you would possibly make. It didn’t help that he knew you were just in the next room, he could almost feel you. He needed you badly and he didn’t know why it was so badly. For once, it was as if he lost control of himself. The way he needed to feel you, to hear you, to taste you, to be inside you. Mierda. He came again with just the thought of you in the other room, just the thought of you. It wasn’t enough but it would have to be, he knew you would worry if he took too long in there.

As he exits the bathroom, you notice you hunched over your laptop on the bed, fidgeting with your tech with such a concentration on what you were doing. The image made his dick throb. Fuck. His stuttering as he entered the room, caught your attention from your work. You only glance at him as you continue tinkering.

“Are you feeling any better?” You ask, still typing away.

“Yeah” He lies as he attempts to keep his voice from sounding strained.

“Good. I still sent some samples to Lyla to analyze.” You start before pausing for a second, “Since we don’t know what’s going on I think we should try to both sleep with some comfort tonight just in case we get an alert or something. We have been at this all day, so we need some rest.”

It took Miguel a second for him to realize what you meant by what you said. You meant that the two of you would have to share the bed. Together. Sleep next to each other. Together. Together, in the same bed. Together. He could barely contain himself in the shower, how in the hell was he supposed to contain himself sleeping next to you?

“Can you take a look at this while I take a shower? I can’t find anything that is wrong but I really don’t understand what’s going on.” You say only slightly looking up at him and then back down as you finish typing what you were working on shifting to get up while still trying to work.  

“Yeah sure” He attempts not to look at you as you put your stuff down, trying to finish your coding, distracting yourself from your previous statements, attempting not to think about you and Miguel sharing a bed. You don’t even look at him as you make your way into the bathroom.

The only thing Miguel could think about was you undressing in the bathroom, what you would look like as you caressed your body with a soapy washcloth. Mierda. How was he supposed to sleep next to you tonight?? He felt like he was losing control. You seemed to not be affected by the thought of sharing a bed with him, something about that was making him feel more feral. The image of you sleeping peacefully as he looms over you, starting with pressing his lips to your unexpected jawline, making his way down your body with his mouth. He could imagine your breath hitching as you started to wake up at his actions. Would you whimper as he made his way to your clothed cunt? Would you grip his hair as he teases you by licking you through your panties? Would you beg for him?

Mierda.

He was painfully hard again. What the fuck was he going to do? What the fuck was going on? He needed to calm himself down, he had no clue why he was acting like this. He was mumbling curses in Spanish, not even realizing that you had gotten out of the shower.

“Mig” You call out to him softly; he looks like he is in distress. His head snapped to your voice. Mierda, that damn nickname wasn’t helping him in this situation and neither did the way you looked. It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special or particularly sexy, it was a plain oversized shirt and he could see the peak of shorts underneath. That cute expression of concern that you wore, your gaze gentle on him. You called his name again.

“Are you okay Miguel? Do you think we should go back to headquarters? We can always just send some other spiders out to keep on alert.” You suggest moving towards him. At your movements, it was as if he snapped out of whatever spell was on him.

“No, no it’s fine.” He rebuttals, “The tech is too new to trust with anyone else. I’ll be fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You nod at him, still worried about him but going to bed was probably the best option for him right now. The two of you get into bed, laying down on opposite sides, and backs towards each other.

Miquel can’t sleep. Every other minute, he's trying to gently ( as gentle as someone his size can be) toss and turn in his discomfort. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, especially with the way he could feel your warmth even from the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, his excessive tossing didn’t allow you to sleep either. You were worried about him but you know his stubbornness wouldn’t free him enough to tell you the issue. But at this rate, neither one of you would be able to sleep tonight at this so you conceited and turned over with a sigh to face him. He was lying on his back not realizing that you had woken up, it looked as if he was sweating. Did he have a fever? Was he really sick? You lean up on your elbow, extending your hand out to touch his forehead.

“Miguel you don’t look well.” You speak as your hand reaches out towards him, right before your hand lands he grabs your wrist and looks at you with wild eyes.

“Don’t” He says through gritted teeth.

“Mig, please, what is wrong?” You ask so innocently, while all his thoughts about you aren’t even close to innocent. With you so close now, with that look in your eye, Miguel was losing all of his sanity. Fuck it. Swiftly, with your wrist still in his hand he straddles himself on top of you. Your eyes immediately go wide as you feel your body move, looking up at him, you don’t fight him though.

“I----” He starts, panting above you.

“What Miguel?” You asked breathily, fuck you looked so beautiful beneath him. Your eyes find him and they're red. He looks almost feral.

“ I don’t know how much longer I can control myself” His voice is strained as his grip on your wrist gets a little harder. The way he was looking at you, wasn’t something you expected. The look of unbridled lust in his eyes, you could feel it coming off his body.

Your voice barely above a whisper calls out his name.

“Stop, please. You don’t understand how badly I need to ruin you.” He groans as his head falls to the side of your head, his face burying into your neck breathing in deeply with a growl. Your breath hitches in your throat, unable to think clearly of what is going on in this moment. The stoic and controlled man that you had grown to know just told you he wanted to ruin you and the biggest problem was that you were okay with it. There was a newfound ache between your legs while he was speaking to you and now the ache was growing with the way he was breathing into your neck. Fuck it. You roll your hips into his, feeling his restrained bulge twitch with the impact.

“Then ruin me, Miguel.”

His head shoots up at your words, it was taking all of his self-control at that moment to not rip the clothes you were wearing off. He had to be sure he understood you correctly, he had to be sure you knew how serious he was about ruining you, destroying you, making you his own.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, hermosa.” He strains out, unconsciously pushing his hips into you, you let out a small moan at the sensation and Miguel thought he almost came just from that sound alone.

“I do, I want you. I want you to ruin me, Miguel.” You say, a lustful look in your eyes as he’s still panting above you. He was trying to hold on to his last ounce of self-restraint until you said one word. “Please”

That was all it took before he sank his fangs into your neck. You gasped at the sudden pain until you felt him licking the wound he just created making you moan his name at the sensation. His hands are all over your body as he is kissing and sucking on your neck, moving your legs so that he is in between them to grind himself into you.

“Fuck Miguel” You moan as your hips meet with his, “Kiss me”

He immediately abides by your request, mouth meeting yours in an aggressive lustful kiss. Miguel forces his tongue into your mouth as he presses his body into yours. His claws digging into your plush thighs which had you moaning into his mouth as he explored yours. The both of you breathing heavily as he moves again from your mouth to your jaw to the other side of your neck marking you the same as he did on the other side. After he is pleased with his marks he leans up, gazing down at your chest heaving, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. Fuck, he doesn’t even bother lifting your shirt off you as he rips it in the front to expose you to him. The view was better than he imagined, of course, he had seen you in your spidey suit which didn’t leave much to the imagination but this view, actually seeing you bare under him was just too much. He came then and there, not even caring because the next time he came he hoped it would be inside of you, your eyes widened at the guttural moans he made as he came. Without even a moment of shame or embarrassment, his mouth latches onto one of your breaths as he palms the other.

“Wait wait, Miguel did you come?” You attempt to get out during his onslaught on your tits.

“Yes, and I’m going to come again, inside you.” He says as he makes his way down your body to your clothed cunt. He had no shame in his words, as he quickly made shreds of your shorts and underwear, he could live out his fantasies of teasing you at another time. He needed to taste you right now. Before you could even respond to his words, or to the fact that he has ripped all your clothes off Miguel's tongue is lapping at your folds. You can’t help but squirm underneath him, as he’s eating you like a man starved. Fuck was he obsessed with the way you tasted; he knew he was going to have to have this all the time now.  He made out with your clit as your hands dug into his scalp gripping his hair. It was all so overwhelming; you couldn’t even grind yourself against his face as his strong hands held your hips down. You were reaching your peak faster than ever before, you were moaning his name like a chant as you got closer and closer to getting over the edge.

The sound of his name being moaned off your lips was driving him even crazier, his hips pushing into the bed as he starts sucking directly on your clit. He moves one of the hands that was holding your hips down to shove two of his thick long fingers into your clenching waiting hole. It was as if he already knew your body because his fingers automatically found the spot that made your vision blurred. Your body responded on its own as you came, and came hard, squirting all over his face. The squirting caught him off guard, as he pulled his face out of your cunt with a surprised expression.  Oh fuck, he needed to see you do that again, and by the way your walls squeezed his fingers as you did, he knew he needed to see you do it again but on his dick. He freezes himself from the restraint of his own clothing as he comes back to hover over you. You looked so damn beautiful, your lips were puffy from his kiss and he could see the bite marks that he left on you, pupils blown and breath coming back down from your orgasm.  He didn’t give you much time to recover as he grabbed your legs throwing them over his shoulder and pounding into you.

You scream his name as he furiously slams his hips into yours. His hands are under your ass, grip tight as he lifts you slightly to go deeper into you, too deep. The tip of his dick ramming into your cervix with every thrust. You had never been one that could just come from penetration, but the way Miguel was pounding into right now seemed was going to change that. He can feel the way your clamp down on his as the tightness returns back to your stomach. Fuck you were going to come again, you were so sensitive, so sensitive for him. Your nails digging cresent shaped marks into his arms as you come again this time on his dick.

“I’m going to come inside you” He tells you through his thrusts and the aggressive manner in which he said it made you clamp down on him even harder. He spills into you, so much that it starts leaking out as he continues to pound into you. You had assumed once he came again he would stop but he doesn’t, you can still feel how hard he is inside of you as he pumps his cum deeper into you. As the final bursts of his come stop, he pulls out swiftly getting off the bed, grabbing your ankles to drag you to the edge. Flipping your body over and pulling up you on your knees, he shoves your face into the bed as he inserts himself into you again. His pace doesn’t slow down as he ruts into you. It felt like he was even deeper than before. One of his hands moves to your shoulder to pull you back as he slams into you, his other hand moves to your clit to rub hard circles on it stimulating you further.

“Fuck Mig--- im--- im cuming” You scream as you cum again hard, doing exactly what he wanted and squirting. He could feel it all over his hand, making him cum again inside of you. You look back at him as you finish feeling him cum in you, thinking that he must be done. The sight you see behind you makes you know that you weren’t even close to finished. Miguel had his hand that was covered in your squirt up to his face inhaling deeply before he stuck his tongue out licking his fingers. He gets even harder inside you; it doesn’t look like there would be any sleep tonight, he really was going to ruin you.

The next morning you wake up, bruised and sore. Your head was on Miguel's chest and he was snoring peacefully under you. With a groan, you get up as you feel a notification on your gizmo, you had almost completely forgotten that you had requested Lyla to analyze the substance. As you look at the results you feel incredibly embarrassed, mortified. The substance that was on Miguel was some sort of aphrodisiac, so that’s why he was acting that way towards you. As you were getting further into your head about last night events Miguel woke up.

“Your thinking woke me up.” He grumbles as he sits up looking over your shoulder to see what you were looking at.  He reads the results of the substance that was on him and now he understands what you were possibly thinking. You thought he only wanted you because of the aphrodisiac, but with the way he marked you he would have thought you would know that he wanted YOU and you ALONE.

“Hey” He says as he touches your shoulder, you jump back from his touch.

“Hey, yeah so it’s fine you know. We can just forget about everything last night, I know you couldn’t control yourself. Its fine” You ramble on trying to not embarrass yourself further, he gentle grabs your chin as you speak a stark contrast from his behavior last night and some of this morning.  He doesn’t say anything but look into your eyes giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“It wasn’t just that, I only wanted it to be with you. I only thought about you. Alright?” He says in the most gentle way you have ever seen him speak. A small smile forms on your lips from the reassurance.

“Alright.” You say and he gives you another kiss, a little more aggressive this time. How was this man not tired anymore?! You saw the half-life on the substance he should be done. “Miguel, the effects should have worn off by now.”

“They have,” He says against your mouth. “This is YOUR effect” moving your hand to allow you to feel for yourself how you affect him. Before things could go any further, you get a notification from your new tech and your gizmo that there were two anomalies in this dimension, around the areas that you detected yesterday.

“See, I knew it!” You exclaim as you activate your suit almost forgetting what you were just doing with Miguel. His dick twitches under your hard and you remember what’s going on. “Oh right, uhm this first, and then we can go back to headquarters and I can take care of that for you,” You say with a sultry smile which makes his dick twitch again.

You and Miguel catch both of the anomalies in record time, him being extra careful to avoid the pollen this time. The two of you continue where you left off after you get back to headquarters, immediately both taking your leave which received knowing glances from both Lyla and Jess.

[forzaferraris]

I CAN HEAR THE BELLS — cl16

MASTERLIST ! you are not to publish, recreate or translate this on tumblr or other platforms without my explicit permission.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: when charles received the wedding invitation from a close friend address to him and company the embarrassment he feels knowing it would just be him after his recent breakup. now he's dateless and desperate with the wedding in two weeks he's gotta find someone, and who better than you.

warnings: fluff, minor angst because god do i love a good miscommunication trope, poorly translated french, every romance book cliche ever, charles leclerc has the worse possible game ever and yet somehow always pulls, arthur leclerc you chronic shit-stirrer (/pos), if my dream wedding pinterest board was a fanfic, always the bridesmaid never the bride, unless, best friends brother trope.

word count: this is a potentially big fic, multi-part series so i can't give a baseline for the word count but definitely more than 5k. style: written series with smau elements

authors note: welcome to my newest series, this is one i've been workshopping for a while now, characters are made up in terms of charles friends geting married and the ex-girlfriend, as i don't want any alex hate on my account. this is set during the 2024 season, races are altered to fit the timeline of this universe so consider this an alternate universe as well, if you want the nitty gritty details of the series itself.

add yourself to my taglist !

" With Great Pleasure, Amelie Windsor &&. Henri De Santa Invite you to celebrate their love on August 15th 2024 "

PART ONE / a deal is a deal. — written fic, warnings on the chapter. ( coming may 25th )

PART TWO / 27 dresses is wedding prep. — smau, small written blurbs, warnings on the chapter. ( coming soon . . . ) PART THREE / the italian rivera with the lust of your life — written fic, warnings on chapter. ( coming soon . . . ) PART FOUR / i found my love in portofino — written fic, smau elements, smut mention, other warnings on the chapter. ( coming soon . . . ) PART FIVE / i do. do i? — written fic, warnings on the chapter. ( coming soon . . . )

authors note: romance is in the air and because im desperately lonely and adore the early 2000's romance films, they just don't make them like they used to anymore, enjoy please be excited for this

[marooningmirrorball]

Splattered Coffee and Spare Blouses

A/n: hello lovelies! this is my first ever fanfic so please be kind to me when you read this 🫣 any sort of feedback will be appreciated🤞also there is no physical description of reader, that picture was just the first cute white blouse that i saw on pinterest. i hope you like it!

content: coworker!rafe x coworker!reader

content warnings: complete ooc rafe, like not even a little bit canon. jealous rafe. desperate reader and rafe. idiots in love fr. coworkers/office au (?)

word count: 1.2k words

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Rafe is too busy drinking in the sweet melody of your voice to catch the actual content of your conversation with Matt. Or is it Mark? Mason? It doesn’t matter what his name is, the only relevant thing about the guy is that he delivers the paper to the office, and Rafe knows they’re getting a paper restock when he hears the tee-heeing of your giggle aimed at something supposedly funny that Miles joked about as he stacks the reams of paper on the tall shelves behind your desk.

You don’t actually ‘tee-hee’, it’s more of a soft chortle. Rafe likes to think he knows the difference, he tries to bypass these dreary office hours by studying each laughter.

First he takes in the sound and how much it made his heart clench, then he looks at your expression; happy, shy, nervous, anxious (he’s even found the difference between those two!), angry. Lastly he takes in the context of the laugh.

It’s definitely a titter when your boss is reprimanding your newest co-worker with the frosted tips, it’s a hodgepodge of a shy-nervous giggle when your boss is reprimanding you, and it’s absolutely a guffaw when Rafe delivers a joke he’d been meticulously planning before he presents it to you.

It usually doesn’t matter what type of laugh it is, the soundwaves from it wrap his heart up and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until Rafe forces himself to leave the room, because it can’t be normal to feel this way about a girl you've only been working with for the last three months.

But this isn’t all those other times, it's that unusual time of the month. What could a man who delivers paper to a pool coverings company possibly say to make you let out that joyous sound? What does a pool company even need paper for? Rafe, running his pointer finger along the rim of his coffee mug, comes up blank when he starts to really think about the former rhetorical question, he’s not too sure he ever wants to interact with Mike that will allow him to find out.

Too late. The kerfuffle Rafe accidently caused due to clumsy hands and an even clumsier brain leaves his (luckily) empty mug toppled, but Rafe’s not so blessed when his fallen over mug lands on his pen, triggering it to leap from his desk and splatter into your (unluckily) full mug.

You spin around in your chair at the commotion of Rafe’s, “Shit!”.

Rafe thinks being shot in the big toe would be less painful than this. It’s a Grade A Disaster. All he can see is the deep brown liquid dispersed in sporadic splats all over your previously white blouse.

“Holy shit, are you alright?”, Marcus is pulling out his handkerchief, of course Paper guy carries a handkerchief, in record time, dabbing away at the marks that have the clear intention to find a permanent home on your work top.

Rafe isn’t given a chance to play hero, before Milo is badgering, “Man, why are you doing trick shots right now? Aren’t you a sales guy?”, Rafe; however, is too mortified to think about a snarky comeback as he instead spews out a stumbled apology.

“Y/N, I-I am so so sorry– tha-that really wasn’t on purpose! I-I can–I will replace your shirt after work, I’m so sorry!”, it all comes out jumbled and untidy. A red-faced Rafe runs a hand down his face in exasperation before he’s suddenly up and grabbing at the fallen dishware, “Let me just-let me go get you some paper tow-”

You put an end to his unnecessary apologies with a gentle touch to his right hand that possesses the culprit. Rafe thinks his heart actually stopped.

The grin you bless him with manages to calm him down, “Rafe, you're okay! Don’t stress about it–really. It’s an old blouse anyway.”

And…what?

Rafe just managed to completely demolish your clothes, yet it’s you who is showing him kindness in this weak moment, “Look, if you’re really bummed out about it and want to reimburse me, I do need to go to the mall after this so…”, you drag out and let him fill in the blanks.

So did the mug actually fall onto Rafe’s head? Did he fall into a state of unconsciousness and wake up in a dream land? This can’t be real.

The scoff and retreat of Marcello’s boots snap him out of his thoughts, this is his life. This is his life and he has been staring at you in disbelief for too many silent seconds because you quickly begin to slip the offer out of his hands, “Uhh–well you don’t really have to join me to shop, I just thought since-”, now you're interrupted by Rafe’s reassurances,

“No! Wait–I mean yes! Erm I don’t actually know what I’m meaning to say”, you think the blush sporting his face has got to be the cutest thing you’ve possibly ever seen as he carries on, “I would love to come with you, please!” Jesus, he thinks, try sounding more desperate, he quickly corrects himself.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be cool if I join along. I-If you don’t mind obviously…” he trails off, unsure and not wanting to impose, despite you literally just inviting him.

The shyness is evident in your voice when you softly say, “No, it would absolutely be fun if you came with”, God, you think, why did I add absolutely in there, he’s gonna think I’m desperate.

“Okay cool.”

“Cool.”

Henry, your coworker with the frosted tips, stands at the corner of Rafe’s desk with his arms crossed, “Can I get some paper or do I need to wait another five minutes until your flirting is done?”

The both of you cower slightly in embarrassment at his teasing, but don’t let it dim the bright smiles adorning your faces. Rafe is sure that there’s nothing in this moment that could, he just scored a hang out with the female coworker that he’s been crushing on for weeks now! Not even the sight of smug Martin could kick him off this high right now.

Your too-old desk chair groans as you stand from it, and suddenly Rafe’s worried that Henry’s comment may have bothered you, “Where are you going?”, his rushed tone causes a giggle to escape you,

“My top is still soaked Rafe”, you gesture to the stained garment with a laugh, “I’m just gonna fetch the spare in my car. What? Do you want to walk with me there too?” Rafe misses the joking lilt of your voice because he’s up and walking towards the reception before you can stop him.

When the two of you return from your car, you with a clean (albeit slightly wrinkled from sitting in your ‘just in case’ bag) blouse on and Rafe with a bashful expression, Henry wiggles his eyebrows at the pair of you, implying something out of nothing. You both ignore it and get back to your work, not without the two of you sneaking glances at each other when you know the other isn’t looking.

Long forgotten are Max’s bad jokes and flirting, Henry’s annoying teasing, and this afternoon’s coffee disaster as you and Rafe walk side by side in the mall, he doesn’t think life can get better than this.

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