#wait was it? maybe i liked something and forgot

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[classyrbf]

Hiii, i love your blog sosomuch. can i req like angst/comfort fic nanami? maybe nanami is like a bittttttt of an ass

ARE YOU STILL MINE! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...you feel as though your husband has become too distant from you and your marriage is hanging on by a thread

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, nanami is bit mean, mentions of cheating but no actual cheating, angst (obvi), reader is insecure with herself, mentions of divorce, comfort at the end, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you so much anon, I hope you enjoy your request!

At first it started out with him staying at work later than usual, coming home at strange times in the night where you had fallen asleep on the couch because you were waiting for him. He’d merely just glance at you, thinking you opted for the couch rather than the bed, walking into the room to go to bed instead of waking you. Then, he started talking less, being very distant, dry with his responses every time you’d brought up an interest of yours. He’d play with his food, moving it around on the plate like a picky child while humming responses. Then, you started not seeing him at all, every morning you opened your eyes he was gone and every night you couldn’t bear staying awake any longer than needed. And lastly, you began to feel alone, the house that you shared with your husband started to feel like you were now sharing it with a roommate. Was your marriage on the brink of divorce?

Another morning, another day of waking up to an empty bed. You rolled over, the sheet crinkled from where he slept but ultimately felt cold. It was a daily routine for you now, though you can’t grow accustomed to it no matter what you do. Its disappointing. Sad. All of your friends gush about their husbands bringing them gifts, going on vacation, and the cherry on top was soon one of your friends was having a baby. You sat there the whole time, staring off into the distance because you couldn’t remember the last time kento had even got you a gift, let alone uttered a word to you.

You stared at the diamond ring that adorned your finger, contemplating if this was at all really worth it anymore. Why stay in a marriage you weren’t happy in? But before making any rash decisions, you knew you needed to talk with him before anything. That’s if you even get the chance to. Lazily dragging your feet across the kitchen floor, you opened the fridge and realized he had left his lunchbox, leaving the food you made last night. You grabbed it, letting out a deep sigh. Should you even bring it? Yes, get out the house and get some fresh air. No, you’re just gonna waste your time and he won’t even eat it.

After fully waking up, you got dressed and grabbed his lunch box off of the counter. You walked past the mirror in the hall, keys in hand before you came to a complete stop to look at yourself. Jeans and a shirt with tacky sneakers that didn’t even match. And your eye bags just added onto it. God, you looked horrible. He wouldn’t want to see you like this. Especially not at his job.

With summer breeze, you were quick to change into a pretty sundress Nanami had gotten you last winter, along with some wedged heels to top off the look. And quickly, you ran to bathroom to apply makeup, nothing too heavy but just enough to make it look like you were at least taking care of yourself properly. You smeared the pink gloss along your lined lips, leaning towards the mirror to make sure you looked good. Still, you didn’t feel satisfied, but it’ll have to do.

You sat in the car for another minute, applying another coat of mascara before heading into the building. Nerves struck through your entire body, something similar to a first date. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, your own husband, that it now feels like seeing him for the first time. The thought made your frown as you stepped foot inside. You greeted the woman at the desk. “Hi, I’m here to drop my husbands lunch he forgot it at home. Nanami Kento.” You kindly smiled.

“Oh! You’re Mr. Nanami’s wife! Pleasure to meet you!” She bowed, smiling. “You’re free to head to his office.”

“Thank you!” Your heels click against the marble flooring, walking towards the elevator and pressing the button with a shaky hand. You wondered if he’d be surprised to see you, greet you with a kiss or a hug. You grew hopeful, imagining finally being in his embrace after so long. You smiled, stepping out of the elevator and headed down the hall towards his office.

On the other side of the door you could hear your husband laughing, talking with someone. But jealousy and insecurity buried a pit in your chest when you heard a woman laugh along with him. You barged into the office, taking site of the two sitting across the desk from one another. Your husbands eyes shot up towards you and the woman glanced over her shoulder with a confused look.

“Y/n?” He stood from his chair, walking over to you. “Sorry, this is my wife.” He awkwardly laughed, looking at the woman who was now standing.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nanami.” She bowed, a small smile on her lips.

“H-hello.” You shakily replied, looking between her and your husband.

“What are you doing here?” He whispered, brows furrowed. From his tone, he sounded slightly annoyed, like you had interrupted something important.

“You forgot your lunch I thought—”

“I already had lunch. No need.” He easily dismissed you, shaking his head. “I’m having an important discussion right now, so I’ll see you at home.” He walked you out of his office, shutting the door behind you. No goodbye. No kiss. Not even a hug. I’ll see you at home. What a joke.

You sat in the bath, bubbles surrounding you and scented candles lit on the sink. The diamond ring on your finger glistened under the dim light as you stared at it, a sour taste forming in your mouth when you remembered earlier today. Who was that woman? Clearly she worked there, but she was so much younger, prettier, and she was making Nanami laugh. He was in such a rush to push you out, claiming he had eaten already. God, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was cheating. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. Forget the talk.

You’ve forgotten how long you’ve been sitting in here now, but you were surprised when you heard the front door open. Reaching for your phone, it was only five at night, pretty early for him to be home nowadays. You just soaked in the bath, hearing his footsteps grow closer and closer until he reached your bedroom. Nanami, noticed the bathroom light, walking in and seeing you in the tub. “Hey, honey.” It’s felt like years since he’s called you any type of pet name, or anything in general.

“I was just getting out. I’ll finish after you’ve done doing what you need to do.” You reach for your towel on the rack, before Nanami stops you.

“Woah, woah, can I not join you?” He chuckled, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“No. Not in the mood.” You snatched the towel, wrapping it around your body before stepping out the tub, blowing out the scented candle and grabbing your phone. “Enjoy your shower.”

“Honey, if this is about earlier today, I apologize. I was interviewing her for a position—”

“God, you really haven’t noticed it?” You were at your breaking point, on the verge of tears from all the hurt you’ve been holding in for the last few months.

“I’m sorry I don’t know—”

“I want a divorce.” The words came out of your mouth as smooth as silk, leaving him shocked.

“Wait, wait! Sweetheart, talk to me first please?” He almost sounded desperate, reaching for you as you walked away into the bedroom. He quickly followed behind you. “Say something.”

“These last few months have been hell! You come home late, leave early, I don’t even see my own husband anymore. We don’t even talk to or at least text each other. And then I walk in, seeing you laughing and talking with some woman and god, the worst comes to my head because my husband hasn’t been mine for last three months! We haven’t kissed, hugged, or even had sex in so long. And then I get all dressed up for you and you push me out of there like I’m a stranger and then you come home and act like everything is okay! I’m not okay!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes. “I feel so alone. So jealous and insecure.” You sob, turning away from him because he doesn’t deserve your tears, he doesn’t deserve to see you so weak and broken.

“Honey, I am so fucking sorry. God, please look at me. Baby.” His soft voice makes you want to rebel against everything you’re standing for right now, wanting to turn to him and hug him and kiss him. You feel his soft hands on your shoulder. “I am so sorry for making you feel less than what you truly are.”

“Are you cheating on me?” You managed to ask through tears.

“What?!” He says shocked. “No, fuck, of course not!” He couldn’t believe his ears, turning you around on his own, pulling you to look at him. He’s not surprised you think he’s having an affair with the way he’s been acting lately. But the truth is, he’s been distant because of a surprise. “I could never cheat on you. It disgusts me to even think about it, darling.” He caresses your face gently, holding it in his hands.

“Then what is it? Do you not love me anymore?” You hiccup, staring at him with teary eyes.

“I’m madly in love with you! I know these past few months, I’ve been horrible at showing it, treating you like you’re nothing when you’re everything. If I knew this would have such a horrible effect on you, I would’ve told you sooner instead of wanting to surprise you.” He let out a heavy sigh of disappointment. Disappointment within himself for putting you in such a position.

“What? What surprise?” You looked at him confused, browns knitting together. He sat you on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his as he kneeled in front you. “Kento…”

“I’ve been working so hard because I was planning our future. Saving up to move to Malaysia. I wanted it to be a surprise, but, I can’t keep seeing you like this. I’ve been working to save up more money, I’ve been searching for houses and talking to realtors on the phone. I’ve been exhausted, honey, but that’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you like an afterthought.” He kissed your palm. “Please forgive me. I am so, so, sorry.” He kissed your hand again, resting his head on your lap. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave me. Just hearing those words leave your mouth earlier scared the shit out of me. I can’t lose you. I love you so much.” He chokes back tears, holding you tightly.

You sit there shocked, completely and utterly shocked. While his actions were no excuse, you still can’t believe the reasoning behind it all. “Ken,” you mutter, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair. He kisses your hand once more, lifting his head to stare up at you.

“I’ll do anything if you just stay. I’ll do anything for you, sweetheart. I need you to know that.” Your heart pounds against your ribcage as he crawls up towards you, cupping your face. “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so—mmph—sorry.” He kisses you between words, pressing his lips to yours. You haven’t felt his kisses in so long but it’s like they never left, feeling his firm grip on you as he kissed you so sweetly, each one filled with so much passion and desire.

“Baby, Ken, I forgive you. Okay?” You pull away. “Just…please, don’t ever do that to me again. I don’t care what it is, do not make me feel like I’m any less important. I can’t believe you’ve been working your ass off just so we could move to Malaysia, carrying the burden by yourself when you know I’m right here.” Your eyes search his.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I know I should’ve said something, I just…I don’t know. It’s doesn’t matter anymore, yeah? I’ve still got some extra work to do for the next two weeks until it’s settled, so don’t think I’m going back on my word. I swear I’m not.” He pecked your lips.

“Okay, I understand. Can I at least ask where in Malaysia?” You smiled, holding his hand.

“That, I am keeping a surprise.” He shook his head. “I just can’t wait to see the look on your beautiful face when you see it.” He quickly scooped you up in his arms, walking into the bathroom. “Shower with me? It’s been so long since we’ve—”

“Of course. I’ve missed you so much, Ken.”

His eyes glistened as he stared at you, smiling like an idiot in love. “You looked beautiful earlier today. I noticed you were wearing the sundress I had bought you. I can confidently say that it hugs you in the all right places. If there were no one in my office, I would have taken you right then and there, sweetheart.”

“Ken!” You shout in surprise, covering your mouth as you stifled back a laugh. “Please just get undressed so we can shower!”

“It’s good to see a smile back on your face.”

[natsarrownecklacx]

Can you make like...How do you think the avengers would react if they found a Flashdrive witn Y/n modeling pictures... after she forgot in a table

I just did it for Wanda and Natasha cause they’re my favourites (also I do not wanna write for men) 18+ cause Ofc I had to make it smutty

Natasha Romanoff:

- Natasha would be really smug and happy with herself about it.

- The two of you have had this tease / flirty situation going on for ages. Where she basically teases and flirts with you and you just become a big flustered mess.

- She’d be really bold about it too. Taking out her laptop then and there in the compound kitchen and looking through the files. She’s not shy about the fact that she’s enamoured with what she sees. She just can’t wait for you to walk in and find her scrolling endlessly.

- If anyone other than you walks in however, she’s immediately on guard, no one else is allowed to see you that way. She’s extremely possessive and protective.

- When you do eventually stumble upon Natasha looking through your photos, you feel as though you could blink out of existence at any moment (or maybe that’s just what your hoping for.)

- At this point Natasha has had time to think about how these photos were taken and realise someone would have had to have been behind the camera taking those pictures.

- She’d hand you back the flash drive, a smirk on her face but a serious undertone to her voice when she says that next time, you’ll be modelling for her and her alone. Preferably with little to no close on, your mouth between her legs.

Wanda Maximoff:

- Wanda would be incredibly flustered the second she realises what she has in her hand.

- She’d drop the drive immediately, as if just holding it somehow sent of an alarm for everyone in a five mile radius to know what she was holding. She’d quickly leave the room with the drive left unattended.

- She’d go back to her room and try to forget about what she’d found. But wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what exactly might be on the drive.

- Eventually she’d convince herself that it would be irresponsible to leave something so personal of yours lying around where anyone could find it. (Really she just couldn’t stop thinking about what she could be missing out on.)

- She’d go back to get it, trying to act as discretely as possible and take it to her room where she locked the door and quickly got her laptop up and running to open the files.

- She spends the next few hours scrolling, drooling and sneaking her hand down her pants when it gets to the more revealing pictures.

- When you come back from your two week long mission Wanda can barely look you in the eye.

- It’s not until a few days later when you catch her with her hand in her underwear, moaning your name, looking through the photos that you understand why.

[frostbitten-writer]

Melancholy

Pairing: Ekko x fem!reader / AU!Ekko x AU!fem!reader

Tags: Heartbreak; R is mentioned to be very similar to Jinx, as in facial looks; weapons like guns and bombs; mention of Shimmer; hallucinations; Arcane season 2 Spoilers; ANGST

Word count: 2,1 k

A/n: Okay, now guys! Enough fluffy fluff, we need some angst as well, can’t live in pure fantasy, right? Can’t stay in shadows for too long, gotta show you the real me. So basicalllyyy there’s this amazing song in my native language that was a big inspiration for this fanfic. Maybe I’ll write a part two later, maybe not, who knows 👍🏼

It wasn’t winter’s fault, nor snowfalls or the frosts.

It was her fault, the girl that I brought roses.

 

What?

 

 

He knew it wasn’t his Zaun. He just knew. 

 

 

But it was Zaun, was it not?

 

Maybe it was, but not the one he got used to. It was one where you would still cling to him like you used to back then, at the times when things were just a tad bit easier due to you. 

Was it a dirty trick? A way to get him vulnerable?! He was about to shove you away, but he couldn’t. It was like trance itself captured him. You felt so wrong against him, gosh, you felt so right.

Just the way your body was against his, the massive, stupid grin and the healthy look on your face were enough to make his defences against you crumble to the ground. Why was he even putting them up in the first place when he knew they wouldn’t bring him anywhere? This was stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!! Ekko felt like he was about to cry, his mouth dry and wide open. 

But he knew it wasn’t a trick, not when he saw Jinx entering the room, but at the same time it wasn’t Jinx? It was her, but not her.. and it was you but not you. Jinx wasn’t Jinx anymore, she wasn’t the girl with crazy blue hair, but just a decent, beautiful girl with little pigtails. 

“Are you two guys ready? We will be late, y’know?!” She called out with a small pout, hands on her hips as she tried to look intimidating.

“We’re going, alright, Pow? Geez, you’re so impatient! Nerves kicking in?” You chided her with an eye roll, your arms still securely wrapped around Ekko’s neck.

Wait, Pow? Like Powder? This was-

“Ready.. for what..?” He stuttered out, fingertips twitching as he still didn’t return the heart aching hug.

“The competition? Hello, Ekko? Don’t tell me you forgot all of the stuff we rehearsed-“ She slammed a hand over her mouth, ready to suffocate him as she trembled with anticipation.

“Powder! Relax! He knows everything, you two did everything you could, now c’mon, let’s be real, you two are the best out there.” You scoffed, resting your head on Ekko’s shoulder, closing his mouth with a hand.

“C-competition..?” His voice wavered, putting a light hand on your upper arm.

“Yeah, the competition, but don’t worry.. everything's gonna be good and lovely. You’ll show them everything you got, love..” Your soft voice caused Ekko’s eye to twitch, but gosh how he missed those times. He should be despising you for leaving him, despising for not even knowing why you left. But the next thing he knew was that his bed was cold and Scar was telling him that you joined Jinx, your childhood best friend. It was almost terrifying how similar you looked to Jinx, or Powder. Nose, eye shape, goodness, you looked more like Jinx than Vi herself. 

“You’ll ace it, nerd boy..” You giggled, pecking his cheek gently.

His breath was laboured, he didn’t understand. Why was he here? Was this another universe? A universe where you didn’t… leave..? 

He put a gentle hand to your cheek, a touch so gentle as if he was holding something precious… But he was indeed holding something fragile, he was holding you. Not the crazy girl that went along with an even crazier one. But one that was gentle as a flower, hair soft and beautiful, a girl that was still his.

All of the talks and conversations went over his head, his focus was only on you. His lips formed an ‘o’ while he listened to you talk, he didn’t even care about what you were talking about, you could be talking crap about him, about his hair and about his whole attire and he’d still be in awe. Claggor, Mylo, Powder, Benzo… could  this universe get even better? They were all alive, all sane and healthy… He was waiting for someone to punch him, for you and Jinx to take out a bomb or a gun and say that this was all a prank. Your beautiful lips form into a crooked grin and say that he believed once again.

 

The time of the competition was coming closer, and the voice of Jinx- Powder was getting louder, her hands gripping your arms as she shook you, yelling that she was nervous and that she forgot everything.

Your hearty laugh was making his head spin, he didn’t deserve this. The other Ekko was supposed to be here, he was supposed to hold you, he was supposed to have you in his arms, but Ekko would never pull away himself, only over his dead body.

His eyesight started to blur though, his blinking getting more rapid as he tried to keep himself sane. Weird noises started to fill his ears, hot pink pictures filling his gaze, wrong images playing in front of him.

Was this the side effect of the universe travelling?

 The room started to flash weird lights, making his eyes squint. Your laughter got even louder, but not the sweet and gentle one, but the cursed and psychotic one. He managed to look over to the two of you, clutching his head with a pained and scrunched expression.

You two were still there, but not you. How was he supposed to explain it all? One second he saw two happy girls sitting together, and the next one he saw Jinx and you laughing hysterically with guns in your hands. The switch was getting slower, his eyes widening in horror as he saw you raising your hand, the barrel facing him, your eyes scratched out with a hot pink marker. He wanted to scream, yell, but it all went black as you pulled the trigger. 

 

 

“Ekko… Ekko…!” You screamed, a hand holding a bottle of cold water. His eyes groggily opened and he was suddenly sprayed with the icy water.

“Oops! Sorry, sorry..” You giggled out, wiping his face with the sleeve of your top.

“What happened..?” He murmured with blurry vision, as he lay on the floor.

“We were sitting and waiting for the competition to start, and then.. you suddenly fell over.. Powder had to do it herself, but everything went good and you guys won! Yaaaay..” You responded, a soft smile on your features as you caressed his cheek. 

“My head feels like it’s cracking..” He whispered, leaning his head into your soft touch.

“I know, love.. I know.. let’s go to my place, you’ll stay at my house…” You tugged on his hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to stabilise his weight.

 

 

His head didn’t even turn off for a second as he lay in your bed next to you. Your scent was everywhere, the pillows, blankets, room and house filled with the smell of your shampoo and perfume.

You sleeping so soundly was almost painful, he wanted to be here forever, be with you and be the first thing in the morning you’d see when you opened your eyes. He wanted to be there and kiss your neck while you basked in the sunlit room, hearing your laugh as you tried to push him off. But he can’t. It wasn’t where he needed to be, it wasn’t the place where he could stay. Who knew where the other Ekko was? Was he in his universe? Fighting all alone, not knowing what happened overnight and what was up? No, he couldn’t stay, he had to go and help the Firelights, he had to go so that at least your Ekko could bask in your love.

It wasn’t his destiny, not his fate, it was the other one’s.

The rustling sound of the bedsheets moving woke you up, your whiny voice and grumbles filling Ekko’s ears. Damn your hearing for not letting him go discreetly.

“Love..? Where are you going..? Is everything alright..?” You sat up, scooting to him as he sat on the bed edge, your chest resting on his back. 

“Yeah, just.. needed to use the bathroom..” He murmured, feeling a small smile creeping on his face as you played with one of his loose dreadlocks.

“Ah, okay. But are you sure you’re alright..? You seemed off the whole day.. I don’t want you fainting again like before the competition…” You whispered, your chin resting comfortably on his shoulder, pressing soft kisses to his neck up to his jawline.

He wanted to stay, he really did. You were the same, the same before you left and let Jinx and Shimmer take you under. Let your mind deceive your heart.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Tough as nails, y’know..” He murmured and let you crawl into his lap, his hands automatically moving to encircle your waist.

“Mhm, tough as nails. Surely..” You teased, a cheeky smile that was illuminated by the moonlight. That cheeky smile that he absolutely adored…

“Hey now, don’t get cheeky…” He uttered, a small smirk forming on his face as he kissed your cheek.

“Cheeky is my middle name, what do you mean?” Your giggling was like a sweet torture, both relaxing and mocking… Reminding him that this was not for him, that he was a traitor, a fraud.

For a second, he just stared at you, drinking in for the last time all of your attention and presence. Oh, your lips, the little curve of a smile they’d do when you found something endearing. Or the look of your eyes.. oh your eyes were the most beautiful and treasured part that he loved. The way they’d stare at him when you were pouty, when you were angry or irritated, when you were just lying around and doing nothing, or the way they’d look at him after a kiss…

“What…?” You asked with a bashful smile, gaze averting for a split second.

“Nothing.. you’re just so precious.. oh how precious you are to me..” He shook his head with a soft smile, his gaze vulnerable and filled with adoration. 

“But I need to go…” He whispered. To him it was the last goodbye, the last chance to have you within arm's reach while knowing that you wouldn’t harm him. To you it was just another regular sleepover, the most casual thing and conversation you two would have.

“Alright, don’t get lost, nerdy boy.” You teased with a chuckle, eyes crinkling at the corners as you sat in your place.

“I won’t..” He whispered, his voice pained but you shrugged it off, thinking he’d join you in the bed shortly.

Little did you know that he slowly took his clothes and began to leave, tears rolling down his cheeks silently. How cruel could destiny be? Letting him make this heart wrenching decision of leaving you behind. Was this how it felt for you back then? To leave knowing that the other one will still wait? Waiting for you to come? He didn’t want to know how you did it, and he didn’t want to even imagine the pain you’d feel the next morning…

 

-

 

The sun was rising slowly and the sunlight reached your face, blinding your closed eyes as you whined a bit. You were about to slam a hand over Ekko’s chest, but after you missed several times, you guessed to open your eyes and watch yourself where he lay.

To your surprise, he wasn’t there, nor were his clothes.

Was he in the kitchen? The bathroom? Swinging your legs over the bed edge, you found your slippers and stood up, looking around your apartment for a familiar face.

Looking into every room, you grew restless. Where could he be? This wasn’t what was usual. Usually you both would wake up and have a slow morning, without a care in the world, enjoying breakfast together and maybe sharing a bath. But now he wasn’t there, as if he vanished. Fast walking down the stairs to the kitchen, you started to call him out louder, desperate to find him. As you reached the kitchen, you saw a single rose lying on the table, no note, no nothing.

What was this supposed to mean? Roses aren’t even your favourite flowers, and Ekko knew that… 

Or at least your Ekko…

And at least not yours in this universe…

And now when Ekko despised you for leaving him in his reality, he did the same to you in the other…

 

 

 

It wasn’t winter’s fault, nor snowfalls or the frosts.

It was his fault, the boy that brought you roses.

[whimsicalpolitical]

Smoking virgin 2 - Matty Healy

part one

in which you see Matty again after your little encounter

cw: smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, smoking, handjob, fingering

you stand in front of matty’s door, his lighter clutched tightly in your hand. it’s been burning a hole in your pocket ever since that party a few days ago. you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t overthink it, wouldn’t build it up into something bigger than it was, but here you are, heart in your throat, staring at his door like it’s some kind of threshold you can’t cross.

as soon as you knock the door swings open.

he’s there, disheveled as ever, dark curls sticking out in every direction, like he’s just rolled out of bed even though it’s nearly 3 p.m. his lips curve into this easy, familiar smirk when he sees you, like he was expecting you all along. like this is nothing.

you swallow hard, try to remember how to use your voice. “hi.”

“hi,” he echoes.

“uhm,” you start, lifting the lighter, “i didn’t know if you wanted it back.”

he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking. “yeah, nah, keep it. thought it suited you.”

“suited me?” you repeat, frowning a little.

“dunno. just… thought it was nice.” he steps back, holding the door open wider. “you coming in?”

you hesitate, but before you can overthink it, he adds, “was just about to head out for a smoke anyway. you in?”

you bite your lip, glance down at the lighter again. then back at him. he’s still looking at you, head tilted slightly, like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.

“yeah,” you say, finally stepping over the threshold. “yeah, okay.”

he grabs his pack from the kitchen counter, and you follow him through the flat to the terrace. it’s small and cluttered, empty bottles and a battered old ashtray perched on the edge of a plastic table. the view isn’t much—just rooftops and satellite dishes stretching out beneath a cloudy london sky—but it’s quiet.

he lights his own cigarette first, the flame catching with practiced ease, and you can’t help but watch his hands. they’re quick, a little shaky, but sure of themselves. he takes a slow drag, exhales into the cold air, then holds the pack out to you.

“go on, then,” he says.

you hesitate, and he grins. “don’t tell me you forgot everything already. tragic, that.”

you take one, slide it between your lips, and light it yourself this time. your hands don’t shake, and you exhale smoothly, the smoke curling around you in the crisp air. when you glance at him, he’s watching you, something amused and maybe a little impressed tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“not bad,” he says, his voice soft.

you smirk, leaning back against the railing. “don’t need another lesson then?”

he grins, taking a drag from his own cigarette. “nah, seems like you’ve got it sorted.”

for a while, the two of you smoke in comfortable silence, the city humming faintly below. you can feel the cold creeping through your jacket, but it’s almost nice, grounding you. matty leans beside you, his shoulder just brushing yours. finally, he breaks the silence.

“how’ve you been?” he asks.

“alright,” you say, shrugging. “you know. same old.” you glance over at him. “you?”

he exhales smoke, tilting his head as he thinks. “been alright too. busy, mostly. but… yeah, alright.”

“busy’s good,” you say, and he nods, flicking ash into the tray.

“you seem good,” he says after a moment, his voice quieter now.

you glance at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way he’s looking at you. his eyes are soft, warm, like he’s seeing right through you. “i am,” you say, a little self-conscious under his gaze. “i think.”

he smiles at that, “good.”

you nod, taking another slow drag and letting the smoke curl lazily out of your mouth. you can feel him watching you again, the weight of whatever it is you’re not saying hanging in the air between you. finally, you set your cigarette down, turning to face him.

the terrace is freezing, and even with your jacket zipped up to your chin, you’re shivering. your cigarette’s burning low between your fingers, and you’re leaning on the railing, exhaling smoke in slow, deliberate streams. matty’s beside you, his shoulder brushing yours every now and then, like he’s not really paying attention to how close he’s standing.

“you alright, darling?” he asks, glancing at you as he exhales. the smoke curls around his face, softening the edges of his sharp features.

“yeah, just cold,” you say, rubbing your hands together quickly before flicking ash into the tray. “didn’t think it’d be this freezing today.”

he chuckles under his breath, tilting his head as he looks out over the rooftops. “classic london weather though.”

you huff a laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. matty notices—of course he does. he’s sharp like that, always catching the little things.

“should’ve grabbed a proper coat,” he says, nudging you gently with his elbow. “what’s that? a jacket? it’s barely doing anything.”

“thanks for pointing that out,” you say, your tone dry but playful.

he grins, flicking his cigarette over the edge of the railing.

he takes a step closer, standing just a little in front of you, like he’s trying to shield you from the worst of the wind.

“thanks,” you mutter, not really sure why you’re thanking him, but it feels right.

he shrugs, lighting another cigarette. “least i can do. you came all the way out here, didn’t you?”

you glance at him, catching the faintest smile on his lips. there’s something unspoken hanging in the air between you, something neither of you is quite ready to address yet. instead, you take another slow drag from your cigarette, letting the smoke warm your chest before exhaling.

“uh-“ you want to begin, but you don’t know where and how. you try to cover your rambling with coughing but matty already lifts his eyebrows up.

“hm?” he asks.

“i’ve been thinking about that night,” you say softly, not looking at him. “the party.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and when you glance at him, he’s watching you, “yeah?” he says.

you nod, exhaling smoke. “i don’t know. just… keeps coming back to me.”

he tilts his head, studying you for a moment. “what about it?”

you shrug, fiddling with the lighter. “just… you. me. it felt—i don’t know. different.”

he nods slowly, “yeah,” he says, his voice low. “felt that too.”

you look at him, your breath hitching slightly at the way his eyes soften when they meet yours. “so… what does that mean?”

he takes a step closer, his voice quiet but certain. “means whatever you want it to mean.”

you blink, caught off guard. “that’s not an answer.”

he smirks, just a little, but there’s no teasing in his tone when he says, “alright, then. it means i like you. means i can’t stop thinking about it, either. about you.”

your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s the cold or the way he’s looking at you that’s making you shiver now. “oh.”

“yeah,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “oh.”

“so… what now?”

he stubs out his cigarette, stepping closer until he’s right in front of you, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the lighter from your hand. he flicks it open, the flame catching briefly before he closes it again.

“now,” he says, his voice low and warm, “we stop overthinkin’. we do what feels good. sound alright to you?”

his fingers brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear and he keeps his hand there- half holding your cheek.

the touch is soft, almost hesitant, but it makes your breath catch. you meet his eyes, and they’re steady, searching yours like he’s trying to figure out if this is okay.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, his voice quiet.

“it’s fine,” you say, but your voice betrays you, a little shaky from the cold—or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you.

“nah,” he says softly, leaning closer now, his face inches from yours. “can’t have that, can we?”

you’re not sure if he’s talking about the cold or something else entirely, but before you can ask, he kisses you. it’s slow at first, deliberate, his lips warm against yours. your hands find his jacket, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens, and for a moment, the cold doesn’t matter at all.

when he pulls back, his forehead presses against yours, and he’s smiling, just barely. “let’s go somewhere warmer, yeah?”

you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “okay.”

he takes your hand, his fingers lacing with yours, and leads you back inside. the flat feels warmer than before, or maybe that’s just you, your cheeks flushed as he pulls you toward the couch. he sits down, leaning back casually, his legs spread slightly.

he looks up at you, his gaze steady, and pats his lap, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “come here.”

you hesitate for half a second, but the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes it impossible to resist. you climb onto his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“better already,” he says, his voice low, his hands settling on your hips.

“yeah?” you ask, teasing, but your voice wavers slightly when his fingers brush against the bare skin at your waist, his touch light but deliberate.

“yeah,” he murmurs, leaning in. his lips trail along your jaw, before finding your mouth again. this time, the kiss is messier, more urgent, like he’s been holding back and doesn’t want to anymore.

your hands slide up into his hair, tugging slightly, and he groans softly against your mouth. his grip on your hips tightens, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

“christ,” he breathes, breaking the kiss just long enough to press his forehead against yours. “been thinking about this. about you.”

you swallow hard, your pulse racing. “yeah?”

he nods, his hands sliding up your back, steadying you. “you fucked up my brain, love, can’t think about anything else anymore.”

you can’t help but smile, your heart beating faster in your chest.

“me neither,” you admit, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. you bite your lip when you feel how hard he already is.

"fuck," matty groans, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly gliding his tongue into your mouth. you moan and grab his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot.

"wait," you gasp, pulling away, but only a little, your forehead still resting against his as you both pant for air.

"i know, i’m sorry-" he is about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"i just-“ you sigh, “this is serious for me, okay? i don’t usually sleep with random guys and-“

matty scoffs and cups your cheek, “random? darling, we have been friends for years now. and for the record, i genuinely like you and i want you, i want us to be more than friends.”

you stare into his brown eyes and look for a single trace of doubt.

“i like you,” you whisper and matty grins as he pulls you down for another searing kiss. this time, he goes slower. he savors every second, he memorizes everything he possibly can about this moment because the way you make him feel hearing those words is unlike anything he ever experienced and he doesn’t want to take a single second for granted.

"i like you, too," he says. he can feel you smile against his lips when he presses his mouth against yours again. "jesus, i liked you for a long time now," he mumbles, his hands falling to your hips, "i’d do anything for you."

your mouth latches onto his throat and you drop your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants.

his head tips back against the couch with a sigh and he squeezes his eyes shut.

your fingers dip below his waistband and when he feels your soft touch on his cock, he groans.

his eyes are still closed as you work him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spend just feeling him and not seeing him.

"i want you," you whisper in his ear, and his hips jolt as he whines against your shoulder. you want him.

“you have me,” he admits.

when he opens his eyes, he looks absolutely wrecked.

“then let me take care of you,” you whisper, getting up from his lap and spread his legs as you kneel between them.

“fuck, have at it,” he chuckles as he watches you rub your hands over the fabric of his tight, black jeans.

you slide his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one quick move, needing to see his cock free.

"i can’t tell you how much i’ve thought about this," you start, wrapping a hand around his base and causing him to groan, "touched myself to you."

you look up at him through your lashes before you dart your tongue out to kitten lick at him.

“oh fuck, you can’t just-“ he leans his head against the couch rest, lacing his hand in your hair as he exhales. you give him a few pumps, placing kisses and small licks around the head until you know he is too worked up.

he accidentally bucks his hips and his eyes flash at you, “fuck, m’sorry.”

“relax,” you giggle, “i’m alright.”

“and here i thought you were proper innocent, darling.”

“what?” you smirk, “only cause i never smoked?”

you wrap your lips around him and start to push him down your throat, his eyes rolling back shut at the feeling of your warm throat.

you can nearly feel him twitch in your mouth and it leads to boosting your confidence.

you set a purposely teasing rhythm; you move forward when he breathes in and move backwards when he breathes out. it takes him a second to realize why he is holding his breath, shaking his head at you.

“what?” he breathes out, “d’you want me to beg?”

you nod with his dick still in your mouth.

"fuck, please just" he groans as he grabs onto your hair, starting to move you himself. you don’t mind the display of dominance, it is hot that he needs you that bad. the ambivalence of his begging but still taking matters into his own hands makes you clench your thighs together.

“gets you off,” he acknowledges and hums, “don’t worry, darling.”

he sets the pace he wants, somewhere in between fast and slow. your mouth feels so full of him, he is making sure he takes up all your senses.

“oh christ,” he moans out, gripping your hair and fucking the back of your throat.

when the twitching of his dick starts to speed up he pulls you off, staring at you with lust-blown eyes.

“you’re fucking great,” he rubs his thumb over your cheekbone lovingly, “don’t want to ruin all the fun though, get up here.”

you smile and pull yourself up and when you go for settling down onto his lap again he flips you onto your back and pulls your top over your head. your hands drift to his hair and back, pulling and scratching while he finally gets rid of your bra. he instantly latches his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

“so gorgeous, love,” he mumbles against your chest.

“want you, matty,” you smile and peer down at him.

“patience,” he mumbles, “lets get this off.”

he practically rips your jeans off your body and throws them to the pile of his clothes and quickly after he gets rid of his shirt as well.

he breathes a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. his hands slide down your stomach, fingers splaying wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

you can hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dips his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that makes it hard to focus but when he slides a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpen.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, “did blowing me turn you on, or s’it just me?” he jokes.

you don’t laugh, instead you let out a whimper when he drags his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he goes.

his lips pucker and suck at your skin as he pets gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. when he pulls his hand out of your underwear, you make a frustrated little noise that makes him smile.

“needy,” he says as he pops his finger into his mouth and you watch, struggling to breathe, as his eyes flutter close and he moans.

“missed you,” he says, “missed this. when you left,” he clears his throat, “fucking had to sit in the grass with a boner and you all over my fingers. d’you know what i did then?”

you shake your head, your breath catching in your throat as you can only imagine what he did.

“i locked myself into the bathroom and wanked, rubbing my wet fingers all over my dick. felt like a teenager, you know? s’ what you did to me that night.”

“god,” you whisper before pulling him down by the back of his neck. you kiss him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. he groans when you begin to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you notice with pride that his chest is rising and falling faster than usual while he grinds himself against your thigh.

“i need you,” you whine, sliding your panties down your legs and kicking them off the couch.

matty nods but groans annoyed, “shit. condoms are in the-.”

“don’t need one.”

matty looks like he’s seen a ghost now but internally he’s trying not to come without being inside of you ever.

“sure?” he asks, “i can get one, s’ not a worry.”

you assure him with a kiss that turns into something more, your tongue looking for his and your hand drifting between your bodies, gripping him and lining himself up with you.

he holds your gaze and your fingers dig into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound is the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

“oh fuck,” he moans when his hips connect with yours.

he stays still for more than a second, giving you time to adapt to him but you’re already too far gone. you waited long enough for him.

“move,” you moan, “please.”

he does as you ask, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. your fingers dig into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. you moan softly when he begins to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he drags his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. when he sinks his teeth gently into your shoulder, he feels you clench around him and gasps.

“feels good?” he asks, but he doesn’t get an answer. your eyes rolling to the back of your head and holding him close is the answer.

you breath into each other's mouths, every word dragging out, every touch deliberate and slow.

“christ,” he groans, “you’re heaven.”

his other hand skirts around your back, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it is even possible. he flexes his hips and you groan when his tip hits a spot that has your entire body buzzing.

"right there," you whimper into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrate on the fire being stoked deep within you. every one of his thrusts is adding fuel to the flames.

"i know, love, feels so good," he whispers, tightening his grip on you. "fuck, you feel so good, i can't-"

“fuck, you’re alright,” he assures, connecting your hips every time he moves out of you but thrusts back inside.

his hand sneaks down your body and his thumb begins to rub slow circles to your clit while his hips stick to the same pace.

“matty,” you moan, repeatedly clenching around him.

“that’s it,” he groans, “can’t- come for me, darling.”

"don’t stop, matty, more," you beg. your thighs tense around his waist.

"i’m gonna-“ there are pools of tears in your eyes that matty is just now noticing. he’s about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.

"oh christ," he groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. but then he picks up speed again.

“i know, darling, come on.”

it’s all too much for you. matty looks so amazing, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his curly hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.

your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.

you come first.

your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.

matty moans and follows right after, trying to sooty you through your orgasm, “just like that, s’perfect.”

he collapses on top of you, pressing soft kisses, that you almost miss, to your neck.

“darling, you are perfect,” he whispers.

you only hum and hold him close to you.

“would you be up for staying at mine?” he asks, face coming up to nuzzle his nose against yours, “please?”

“of course,” you smile, pulling him down for another soft kiss.

“perfect,” he whispers.

after another minute he pulls out of you and lifts you up bridal style, unexpectedly.

there’s no shame with him carrying you through his flat with the both of you naked.

“how does a bath sound?” he asks.

you giggle, “amazing, only if you join me though.”

“always.”



[midnight-mourning]

Holiday Stalling

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 26❄️❄️

Another silly sweet one for y'all, very much enjoyed the shennanigans that occurred :)

Prompt: Second request idea if you need it! Y/n has a christmas party to get to right after their shift and moon and sun see them for the first time in their non work clothes (they look very cute!) The boys are feeling pretty disapointed they don't get to see this side of Y/n and try their best to keep them in the daycare as long as possible ("sunshine you HAVE to see our new puppet show""i didnt see you take your mandatory 10 minute break. my lap. NOW""sunshine i only trust YOU to oil my joints :(") and of course y/n is happy to stay a lil longer but they still want to be able to go to the party(gotta make sure ALL the homies get their quality y/n time)

Word Count: 1329

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You close your locker and check the time. Still plenty of time to head home and relax before the party. 

Your friends were having a massive holiday bash tonight, and given you hadn't seen any of them for what felt like ages, you were excited. You'd even taken the liberty to bring nice clothes with you to work just in case you wouldn't have time to run home and change. But since you'd gotten off on time, you could instead take the chance to charge up your social battery before heading over. 

You go to out for the day, when you remember you left your jacket in the Daycare. 

Hurrying back that way, you quietly open and close the door so not to disturb Sun. You spy your jacket lying amongst the things on the security desk, folded up neatly. The playtime attendant must have been the culprit, as you see on top of your coat is a sticky note with your name and a drawing of Sun. 

You smile, laughing softly as you grab it. 

You're about to put it on when laughter from across the room stops you. 

Sun lands in your view, wire retracting after a moment. "Hello Sunshine! I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon!"

"Hi, Sunny. Yeah, forgot my jacket, which you already know, I guess." You start to put it on again. "Thanks for finding it for me!"

Sun's rays spin a few times. Then he shakes his head. "Of course, friend!"

"Something wrong? You seem kind of dazed."

He puts his hands up. "Oh no, no. I just, we've never seen you out of uniform before!"

"Huh? Oh yeah, guess you haven't." You laugh, and give them a quick spin. "A bit more dressed up than usual, these are my nice clothes."

Sun makes a noise that sounds, off. Like he had a glitch or something. His tone is even when he speaks however. "You look... very nice, Starlight."

"Oh, thank you." You look away, face heating up, then shake your head. "Well, I've gotta run, have a holiday party in a few hours, but I'll see you tomorrow!"

You start to walk to the doors but a hand on your wrist stops you. "Wait!"

You pause, turning back to him. You can hear his fans have kicked on, and it raises your concern once more. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" You turn to face him fully, hand over his. 

Another noise, then he shakes his head. "Actually Sunshine, I'm not feeling so hot. Could you, maybe stay a moment?"

"Of course I can." You say, voice soft. "Come on, let's go sit down and see if that doesn't help. 

You spend about ten minutes with Sun, chatting as you look him over for any potential causes to his issues. He only seems to get worse however, to your dismay. 

"Maybe a distraction would help." You grab some crayons and paper and split them between the two of you. 

Sun snaps a crayon or two in his haste, but you do think it helps somewhat. In fact, you'd say you made progress enough to be able to leave him alone, when the lights go out. 

Moon is not in nearly as bad as shape, he is, however, insistent that you take a rest. 

"You've been so helpful, Star. You deserve a break too." He pats his leg. "Besides, I don't believe I saw you take your break today. If you're going to be out late tonight you'll need energy."

You check the time again. You still had plenty to get to the party, and a rest in Moon's arms does sound nice...

You fold, climbing into his lap with a sigh. "Alright, guess that's good enough an excuse for me."

"You weren't going to have a choice in the matter." Moon chuckles, arms wrapping around you. 

The two of you chat quietly back and forth, not really tired enough for a nap yourself. There's also the matter that his fans are still going and while not loud, are loud enough that you couldn't sleep even if you wanted to. 

When the lights come back on, you're ready to go, but Sun begs you to stay for a puppet show. 

"Please, Sunshine. I want to perform it tomorrow for the kids and you're the only one who can give constructive feedback!" His hold on you tightens, having still been in his lap from your previous rest with Moon. "You have to see it. Pretty, pretty please?"

You sigh, giving in based on how eager he is. "Okay, but this better be an amazing show, or I'll be thoroughly disappointed." You tease. 

Sun gives a fake gasp. "How could you insinuate it would be anything but?!"

The puppet show is good, you can't deny that. Perfect for the holidays and such. And the surprise of Moon having a show of his own after Sun's finished wasn't necessarily unwelcomed. Sun making you oil his joints 'You're the only one I trust to do it!' wasn't something you were planning on doing tonight, though of course none of this was, but you do that as well since he insists. 

But just as you're getting ready to leave again, you're once more stopped. 

"Sunny, this has been lovely, but I really do have to get going. My party starts soon." You had another twenty minutes or so, but that's not accounting for driving and the likes. 

Your hand is in his, grip tight. "Just one last thing, Sunshine! I promise it'll be quick. Pinky promise."

"Fine. But this is the last thing, okay?" You turn to face him fully, hand reaching up for his face. "You know I love hanging out with you guys, but I have to get to my party eventually."

Sun nods, leading you over to a spot by the playset. He stands there for a moment, holding your hands, before glancing up. You take the hint and do the same. 

Above you, tied to the playset, is a small bundle of mistletoe. 

Your face blooms with heat and you look back down, making eye contact with him. "Oh, um, don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't that."

Sun's rays spin as he looks away, grip faltering on your hands. 

"You, you don't have to if you don't want to. We've... kept you long enough." He fully releases you, stepping back. "To be honest, when I saw you earlier, in your regular clothes it, reminded me, reminded us, that you have an entire life out there without us. I guess we just wanted to be a part of it, for a moment at least." 

He starts to walk away, and you grab his wrist. He stops, looking down at the hold as you force him to turn back around. Standing on your tip toes, you tug on his collar so that you can press your lips to his. 

It takes a second but Sun melts into the kiss, and you keep going for a few moments longer before you have to pull away for air. 

You cradle his face, smile on your lips as you speak. "You guys are part of it, more than you know. And if you wanted more, you could've just ask, but I meant it when I said this was fun, you know."

"W-well, you could have said something too!" He sputters, making you laugh. 

You rub your thumb against his cheek, sighing. "Yeah, fair enough."

After making things even for both attendants—which meant equal amounts of kisses and lots of turning the lights on and off—you finally head out for your holiday party. 

You have a great time, and it's wonderful to see you friends, but on your way home you can't help but press your fingers to your lips, giggling at the memories of earlier in the night. 

You suppose you got two parties—and two partners—for the price of one.  

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the request @pip-plz!! As you can see I had a lot of fun with the boys being silly/jelly hehe

Thanks for reading!

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Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles

[puffein]

fireworks at midnight

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader summary: as the world celebrates under a sky of bursting colorful lights, a quiet gallery becomes a setting for a moment that could change everything or nothing at all warnings: angst word count: 1881 a/n: happy new year!! this has been in my drafts so... i hope you guys like this!! love lots!

general masterlist

The lights strung across the square glowed warmly against the winter night, Wanda told herself she’d stay for one night, just long enough to see the fireworks before she relocates herself into a new small town. She wasn’t supposed to stay for more than 2 months, but the small town has given her something she had never felt before — peace and tranquility. And in just a blink of an eye, Wanda has broken a rule she had never broken before. 

The town was nestled in a valley, surrounded by snow-dusted pine trees that stretched toward a pale winter sky. Cobblestone streets would meet her black boots as it wound between wooden buildings and soon their rooftops will be blanketed in soft layers of snow. It was the kind of place where everyone knew each other, where it seems like the whole town is one big family, where time seemed to slow down, and where even a stranger could feel like they belonged — that is if they stayed much longer than what Wanda is planning to.

Despite it being a small town, Wanda pretty much keeps to herself. It gave her satisfaction to know that none of the residents knew who she is and who she was. The people she had interacted with before knew her as Scarlet and only one person knew her as Wanda.

Maybe she did not stay for the fireworks — maybe she stayed for one night for a certain local artist.

“Well, well, well – look who got herself out of her cave.”

That voice.

Wanda’s tensed drawn up shoulders, once pulled up as if trying to shield herself from the world, began to ease. Her hands fisted, fidgeting with the hem of her coat in a restless rhythm began to loosen until they rested beside her body. She sighs, unknowingly clueless to the effect of a certain voice to her protective stance.

Wanda turns, the edge of her mouth twitching so slightly, “Happy new year?”

A hearty laugh surrounds Wanda, “Silly it’s not yet the new year.” A step was taken, soft and carefree, “Happy new year, Wands.” 

Wanda’s heart skipped a beat, she blinks, “So– you said you have something to show me?”

Wanda saw your eyes sparkles, shinier than the lights strung loosely across the square. She looks away confused at how her breath hitches.

Soft hands wraps around her arms, a thumb caress softly against Wanda’s coat, “Yes! I almost forgot. Come, come, it's in my gallery.”

Wanda’s eyes wanders at the gentle grip presented at her, she looks up and watches how your face has been casted a soft, golden glow, catching the delicate curves of your face. She sighs watching as shadows dance across your features, accentuating the gentle arch of your brow and the quiet intensity situated in your eyes.

She longed for that intensity – the freedom to feel so deeply, to let her emotions spill without the fear of breaking something fragile or the world around her.

Because the first and only time she had that freedom, it ended in disaster.

Wanda didn’t notice you stopped walking however, she noticed the absence of your warm hands around her arms. She took a step back and looked away.

“Sorry, I had you wait at the square. I didn't know if i’ll be finishing this on time so, i’m at the better safe than sorry zone.” You mumbled, hands fidgeting at the locks of your small gallery.

“It’s okay, I had fun watching the townspeople.”

You turn around quickly, “Have you tried the activities they organized?”

Wanda grimaces ever so slightly, you catch on to that and let out a chuckle, “Sorry for asking a question I already knew the answer to.”

You clamp your hands together, “So– this is a gift for you. I don't know if you'll like this and I don't even know— I just, can you please close your eyes?”

Wanda’s back straightened abruptly, closing her eyes seemed dangerous for her.

“What’s in there for me to close my eyes for?”

Your foot taps lightly against the ground, a rhythm that betrays the nerves you have. Wanda watches as you shift your weight from one foot to another, it was as if your unease had nowhere else to go, spilling out in the constant, anxious rhythm of your feet.

You sigh, gaining courage, “Okay. okay, sorry–” Wanda wanted to say you didn't have to be sorry, but – “Let’s get inside?”

She could only nod and watch as you opened the doors, the lights were off and your steps reverberated in Wanda’s eyes, she watched you switch the lights on.  

As you flick the switch, the room illuminates instantly, flooding the small space with soft, golden light, casting long shadows across the floor and illuminating the paintings in their full glory.

Wanda blinked, her breath hitching as she looked around the gallery. 

There – in their luminous glory are paintings of her made by you.

Wanda’s body buzzes with different emotions, the nerves in her body seem to be shutting down as her thoughts are buzzing in an unclear manner and she hates that. 

The artworks seemed to breathe with life, each of it drawing her in as if the colors and brushstrokes held a secret just for her. The walls of your small gallery were lined with vibrant portraits of Wanda, one painting captured her as if she’s frozen in time, surrounded by swirling colors that hinted at her chaotic powers that she wants to bury deep down — reds and purples. Another was a painting of her standing in the middle, pine trees around her, her silhouette framed by a golden sunset, her face turned upwards into the sky as if contemplating the weight of the world. 

But one painting, that small painting, a smaller piece situated right at the center, depicted her as she was now – quiet and uncertain. She's sitting by a window, gazing out at the world, her face soft yet distant like she was caught between two realities. Each strokes of your brush seemed to capture Wanda’s essence, a reflection of the depth and complexity she carried beneath the surface. Heavy and loaded.

That scared her, this scares her— how you seem to understand her by how you captured her in a way that reflects what hidden disastrous turmoil is swirling deep inside her.

This felt different and different things are no good for her. The portraits, the artworks weren’t just images of her, they were fragments of her soul, each of them revealing parts of herself she hadn't fully understood. 

Wanda felt exposed, vulnerable.

Has she been that obvious? Is she that readable that you were able to capture her fully.

But despite feeling this, the pieces filled her with a strange warmth — to know that someone had finally seen her in a way she couldn't even begin to see herself felt nice.

Then as if allergic to happiness, Wanda snapped back. 

Her mind swirled with confusion. How could you capture this? The thought of you seeing her so completely, unsettled her.

You stood beside her, nerves high as the mount everest, “Do you like them?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, it's like you're afraid of shattering the moment.

Wanda’s eyes lingered on a piece in the center. Swallowing hard, Wanda answers, “I don't know,” she mumbles softly. “It’s— it’s too much.”

It is for her. She knew at the back of her mind, that she stayed longer because of you — stumbling accidentally to your small gallery was a blessing to her, the moments you two shared together was enough for her to stay, to live a life she desperately wanted.

You nodded, stepping closer, your presence grounding Wanda. “I wanted to show you,” you said, voice gentle, “–that you’re more than what you’ve been through. That you’re not just the chaos you feel inside.”

Wanda looks at you, chest tightening.

“I–I had this constant thought that I have to let you see this – because I know, anytime you’ll disappear,” You smile tightly, “I just had to let you see, I just had to.”

The confusion deepend, mingled with something else— something Wanda couldn't name, something she was afraid to let in.

Your warm hands clasped around Wanda’s freezing ones, her hands trembled against yours, as if afraid you’d disappear right before her eyes, but the truth was she was the one already slipping away. 

“I told you, like I always do. You deserve to be happy.” you whispered, despite the hushed room the two of you are standing in, your voice was barely audible. 

Wanda gave you a smile she always plastered, small and fragile, “Happiness isn't for people like me.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.

You could feel it the way she held herself, in the quiet sorrow behind her smile — a smile that was always a little too broken that she wouldn’t let herself feel the good things in life, even the tiniest ones.

You wanted to say more, to tell her that happiness could be hers, that she’s worthy of love but something in her face, dark and impossible to reach, stopped you. You knew you were fighting a war that you could never win, but you had to try, right? For her.

You stayed silent, watching her as she gazed at the paintings of herself, captured in moments of beauty and rawness she never thought she could see. 

When Wanda finally turned to face you, eyes locking with yours, and it felt like the world stopped spinning. In that stillness, you saw all her pain, all her love, the chaos buried deep within her, tangled together in a way that broke your heart. You knew it was a love that was pure, yet haunted by something too deep to fix.

Your eyes followed as she took a step towards you, her breath hitching, and before you could say a word, Wanda rested her forehead gently against yours.

You and Wanda didn’t need words, the way her body softened against yours, the quiet tremor of her touch as she grazed your cheeks said everything you needed to know. 

She loves you.

She was sorry.

And she couldn't stay.

“Happy new year, my love.” Wanda whispers.

Your heart beats loudly and excruciatingly painful, it was so loud that it could almost deafen the fireworks that had already begun outside.

The burst of colors lighting up the pale sky was beautiful, but it was Wanda that you saw– her silhouette slipping away, walking beneath the glow of the lights. Her hands tucked in the pockets of her clothes, her head down, the color of her hair haunting you. 

You knew then, knew in the deepest part of you that she was taking a piece of your heart with her. 

And she was gone.

All that would remain was the quiet echoes of her absence, leaving only ashes where something beautiful was once buried.

Your love felt like a fleeting moment, one that never truly began but somehow, had already ended. It’s like a whisper in the wind, too soft to be heard, yet gone before you even knew it had begun.

As the first snow of the year fell, it buried the echoes of a love that was never meant to stay.

general masterlist

[claiestve]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝟐 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 ꨄ Zaros

˜”* ❝𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙?❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴀ ᴍᴇꜱꜱʏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

As the trials come to a close, and you wait for the results, you can’t help but feel like you didn’t want this to end. Yes, there was immense pressure on you and your rival was ridiculously intelligent. However, it was a freedom you never had. You were able to hear new ideas and new standpoints without being limited. You weren’t guaranteed the throne which, for once, gave you room to make mistakes.

But something in your heart was so forbidden that not even the trials could let you explore it. A fondness that favored your rival, someone you could never be with, and with the amount of time the two of you had spent together, it was getting difficult to ignore.

As the trials come to a close, you and your rival are becoming friendlier. There was no longer a bitter taste in your mouth when you thought of him winning the throne. Why would there be? He had great ideologies, an amazing understanding of people, and great intelligence. Some days, you were envious of him but nowadays, you found yourself admiring it instead. 

“Earis.” 

You jumped at the voice pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Yes, Zaros?” You turned to him. 

“Are you ready for tomorrow? The big day.” He smiled, joining you on the library floor. 

God, you wished you were ready. You had so much going on in your head. It felt like a losing game all around. You could either be the reason why your family would be disowned by Serulla, losing Zaros in the process, or you could win the throne and still lose Zaros. Both outcomes you weren’t ready for. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to talk about this. So,” You looked at the glossy floor, afraid it would show your gloomy expression, “if that’s all you want to speak about, see yourself out.”

Zaros’ face quickly displayed an offended expression. How could he not? He was being kicked out over a lighthearted question. 

“Are you okay? We can talk about something else.” He offered, desperate to see a change in your demeanor. 

You shook your head, tilting it up and away from him, “Maybe we shouldn’t speak at all.”

You try to get up but he grabs your wrist. Your pulse quickened as his fingers wrapped around your wrist—firm, but not tight enough to hurt. His touch was warm, grounding you in a way you didn’t want. The last thing you needed was to be tethered to him now, not with everything spiraling in your mind. Yet, as you turned to face him, the conflicted expression in his eyes made it harder to pull away.

"Don't do this," Zaros said softly, his voice steady but laced with concern. "You’re not alone in this, Earis. You don’t have to carry all of this weight by yourself."

For a moment, you forgot about the trials, the throne, and your family’s expectations. You were left only with Zaros, standing there with a quiet resolve, his hand still holding yours, even if only gently. He looked at you as though he understood everything, as though your burdens could somehow be shared.

But that wasn't possible. Not now. Not with him.

"I am alone in this, Zaros," you said, the words coming out sharper than you intended. You tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he wasn’t letting go so easily. 

"You know that isn’t true," he said. "You don’t have to carry it alone. You never have."

You looked down at his hand, still holding you, the warmth spreading up your arm to your chest. Every inch of you wanted to tell him the truth, to confess everything—the way your feelings for him had shifted from rivalry to something deeper, something more painful. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Zaros, let go. We both know the reality of tomorrow could crush us and I don’t need you to hate me again so just–” You once again tried to free yourself from his grip. 

Zaros’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand, a gentle, comforting gesture. His voice dropped to a near whisper, as if afraid of breaking the fragile moment between you. “You think I’d hate you if you win?”

A breath caught in your throat. His face, his expression, everything about him seemed so genuine that for a moment, you almost believed it. Almost.

“I—”

Before you could finish, he spoke again, his voice no longer filled with uncertainty but something more firm, more knowing. “No matter what happens tomorrow, you’ll never lose me, Earis. I... I’m not going anywhere.”

Your breath hitched, the words spinning in your mind like a kaleidoscope of emotions. You wanted to believe him so badly, but the walls you’d built around yourself—around your feelings for him, around your duty—kept them from crumbling.

You pulled away then, not because you wanted to, but because the distance between you both felt like the only thing that could keep the storm from fully breaking.

“Zaros! Let go of me already! I don’t understand why you’re trying to fix this… rift between us but dammit, it’s not worth it. We’ll be strangers by the end of this so leave it!”

“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “I don’t want the throne. Not if it means losing you.”

The weight of his words settled over you, pulling at something deep inside. Your heart ached, your chest tight with emotions you’d never been able to express, not to anyone, especially not him. But as you looked into his eyes, something inside you shifted. Maybe you could tell him everything. Maybe you could be free of this—of him—if you just let go of all the fear.

But then the harsh reality of what was coming tomorrow came crashing back into your mind, and you stepped back, eyes downcast.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered. “Not like this.”

Zaros’s expression hardened for a brief second, before his eyes softened again. “Don’t say that.” He stepped forward, his hand reaching out as if to pull you back to him, but this time, you stepped further away, silently urging him not to follow.

“No, I can’t. I– I have an entire legacy behind me, Zaros. I can’t afford to– no, I can’t do this.”

Zaros paused, his expression flickering with a brief flash of pain, but it quickly masked itself behind a look of understanding, though it did nothing to lessen the intensity of the moment. His hand dropped to his side, but there was a tension in his posture now, as though the very weight of your words had anchored him to the floor.

"Earis," he said, his voice quiet but unwavering. "I understand that the legacy you carry is heavy. But it’s not just your legacy, is it? It’s ours, too. It’s mine, too, and I’ve never once thought of it as a burden. Not if it means standing beside you."

Your chest tightened at his words, but the walls you had built so carefully around yourself wouldn’t let them in. You could hear the honesty in his voice, the same honesty that had brought you here, to this moment, standing on the precipice of something you weren’t ready for.

"No," you said, shaking your head, though the words didn’t come out as forcefully as you wished. "This isn't about you, Zaros. It’s about me. About the choices I’ve made. The path I’ve walked. The weight of everything that’s expected of me. You don’t—"

"I do understand," he cut you off, his voice gaining strength. "You think I haven’t been under that same pressure? That I haven’t been carrying my own burdens? You think this competition has been any easier for me than it has been for you? Earis, we’re both fighting for something we can’t even define sometimes. But that doesn’t mean we’re alone. Not in this, not in anything."

His words struck a chord deep within you. You felt your resolve faltering. You wanted to believe him, so desperately. But the fear—the fear of losing him, of losing everything you’d worked for, it was like a shadow you couldn’t shake off.

"You don’t understand," you whispered, almost pleading with him, as if by saying it out loud, it would make it true. "If I win, everything will change. I’ll become someone else. I’ll lose myself in the role. And if I lose… I’ll lose you. I don’t know which is worse."

Zaros didn’t respond immediately. His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like time stood still between you. The air in the room seemed heavier, as if it, too, was holding its breath. Then, slowly, carefully, he stepped closer to you again, but this time, he didn’t reach for you. He didn’t need to.

"You won’t lose me," he said, his voice a low promise, as if his every word was a lifeline. "Not because of the throne. Not because of a trial, or an empire, or anything else. Earis, I—" He stopped, swallowing hard as if the words had caught in his throat. He reached for your hand once more, but this time, you didn’t pull away.

"I can’t imagine a future without you in it," he continued, his voice softer, more vulnerable now. "I don’t care about the throne. What matters is you. We matter."

A shaky breath escaped you. You wanted to pull back, to retreat from this intimacy, this honesty that felt like a quiet promise of something you could never have. But for the first time in a long while, a part of you didn’t want to.

"Zaros…" Your voice trembled, and you closed your eyes, not trusting yourself to look at him.

He stepped even closer, so close you could feel the heat of his presence, but he didn’t touch you. He didn’t need to. His words reached you without needing anything more.

"Don’t push me away," he whispered. "Please."

Your eyes opened then, finding his gaze, and for a moment, it was like the weight of the world was suddenly lifted, even if just for a breath. Your chest ached, but it wasn’t pain anymore. It was the raw truth, so simple yet so difficult to accept.

“I’m scared,” you said softly, the words a confession that you never thought you’d say aloud. “I’m scared of what tomorrow means, Zaros. I’m scared of losing you. Of losing myself.”

He didn’t speak immediately, but his hand, gentle but firm, found its way to yours. The touch was grounding, steadying you in the storm inside your heart.

"Whatever happens," he said quietly, "we’ll figure it out. Together."

Your heart raced as his words settled deep inside, the truth of them slowly, slowly chipping away at the walls you’d built. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. You didn’t know if you could win the throne without losing yourself. But for the first time, you didn’t feel entirely alone in it.

"I don’t deserve you," you whispered, but there was less conviction in it now. The certainty of your words was beginning to crack, and for once, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Zaros was right.

"You do," he replied, his voice firm, unwavering. "You always have."

The tension between you both was still thick with unspoken words, but there was something else, too. Something tentative, but real. A connection. And in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, winning didn’t have to mean losing yourself. And maybe, just maybe, Zaros wasn’t the enemy you’d once believed him to be.

Tomorrow was still coming, the trials still to be decided, but you no longer felt as though you were standing alone in the dark. Maybe there was a way through this, after all. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

ummm hii :3 i wrote this, pls read it

[jazeswhbhaven]

Hi!! Could I ask for a headcanon with the Kings and maybe some nobles of your preference with a MC that is a little bit feral (like when they get angry they growl or bark like a dog and bite people hard) idk, in my head it's funny to imagine MC biting hard without let them go when gets angry or barking like a chihuahua XD

Sorry for the bad English btw

No worries anon, your English is fine! Thank you so much for waiting on this. Lol chihuahua MC sounds like something cute for the kings and nobles to deal with~

Nobles first!

Sitri: He's so used to Satan biting him that it didn't even register when a pissed off MC tackled him and bit into his arm after being told "no" to something. Naturally, Sitri just stares, processes and then ends up blushing because it reminds him of when his Majesty takes a huge bite out of him for his blood. The bite doesn't hurt obviously and MC barely broke the skin, but now it appears that Sitri's got a biting kink...

Glasyalabolas: It's quite comical to see MC attempt to bark and bite this huge devil on his shins after he said something to intentionally piss them off. It seems that he does it on purpose because he finds it cute that they even try. In the end, all he does is pick them up by their shirt and smile while offering a "treat". This may or may not piss off MC even more though.

Naberius: What could go wrong with MC being feral and biting Nabe? What do you mean he growls back and barks and it becomes serious like watching a dogfight take place? What do you mean that Nabe ends up winning and it turns into something....spicy. Well at least MC tried it and got the results they possibly wanted. Neither party remembers why they were mad in the first place.

Kings time!

Satan: Growling? Biting? Don't you mean that MC is flirting with him at this point...those aren't even fighting words for Satan when it comes to MC. Each bite mark, each growl and scratch is nothing but a love language.

Mammon: This king finds it absolutely adorable that MC is barking and growling, even hissing when trying to make a point that they're angry. All he does is pat them on the head and there's even a point where he considers buying them a collar if they insist on behaving like a bad pet.

Beelzebub: Again, another king that doesn't find any issue with MC being feral when upset. His cute human just expresses themselves best that way and it's up to him to "train" them to bite the correct places if they want a reaction. Yeah, he means it in that way. No he doesn't intend on fixing MC, just making them worse.

Leviathan: Now, when it comes to him? There will be no behavior like that at all around him. If MC wants to get upset properly, then they should do it like he those and throw insults and give idle threats. But he doesn't want MC to do that either. If they're upset, they are expected to just deal with it. He's raised a feral demon before...he has no problem dealing with MC.

Lucifer: Yeah uh, this got shut down quickly. MC only growled once at him and never did it again. Lucifer didn't have to do much except stare at them with a disapproving look. MC was pretty much like a puppy with their tail tucked between their legs.

Belphegor: He likes cats more than he does any other animal, so MC's barking and biting annoys him. He can't handle their attitude when upset so he just sits on them until they stop. Problem with this is he falls asleep on MC, so they're stuck there for a while until Beleth can come and remove the heavy assed king off of them.

Asmodeus: MC being upset didn't even last two seconds. Once they started barking and growling, he took that as a challenge to do some roleplay and bring MC into submission. Sometimes he'll really get into it and have some pet play in there as well. MC forgot why they were upset.

[whumpcave]

Every last secret

Content: Truth serum, interrogation, captivity, bound

Originally on ao3 in fandom

Whumpee eyed his captor, who was walking up and down, going on about some evil plan in a thick accent. He has heard this story over and over, the boredom was killing him. 

“Look, I really don't give a shit about your grand scheme. Just get on with it already.” 

His captor stopped in his tracks. 

“Alright whumpee, you don’t wanna hear my plan, I won’t tell you my plan.” 

“Thank God.” whumpee sighed, shifting in the chair he was bound too. 

“But you’ll tell me yours.” 

Wait what? 

Whumper walked over to a cabinet in the corner of this room, if you could call it a room. It was more of a mangy cell, dirty and dusty, this was probably the first time it had been used in months, maybe years. 

He pulled open the doors and retrieved something, whumpee couldn’t tell what. 

“You aren't going to tell me what you’re hiding, what you want, correct? So, I'll force you.” 

Whumpee tensed. 

"So, you’re going to punch me? Have a few stabs? Be a real big boy?” He snidely retorted, putting on a mask of false confidence. 

“Oh no whympee,” he revealed a small glass and bottle. “You’re going to tell me the truth.” 

Whumpee faltered. 

What was in that bottle? Is that some kind of truth serum? 

His captor poured the bottle into the small glass, whumpee watched as the blue liquid filled the cup, sloshing around sickeningly. 

Whumper set the bottle down and walked over to him. 

Whumpee’s eyes widened, he flinched back, hard. He didn’t know what that drink contained, what it would do. What if it made him tell everything? He would be fired, maybe killed. God no, he couldn’t drink it, he wouldn’t drink it. He can’t. 

Whumper was bringing the glass closer to him, whumpee panicked and turned away, that’s when he felt hands on face, forcing him to look whumper in the eyes.  

It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t open his mouth. 

“Come on, open wide. I know you’re thirsty.” 

It’s true, he was thirsty, his throat was dry, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a drink. But he was not drinking that. No way. 

I mean he wasn’t. 

Not until whumper stepped on his foot harshly, causing whumpee to gasp and his lips to part. 

Before he knew it he felt the substance slide down his tongue. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to keep himself from consuming the fluid. 

Whumper threw the cup aside, glass shattering to the ground. He then clasped a hand over his mouth, so he couldn’t spit it out, and with his other hand, he yanked his hair back, so he couldn’t help but swallow.  

Whumpee coughed and spluttered, tears coursing down his face. 

It tasted disgusting and left a metallic feeling in his mouth. He retched. 

“Wasn’t so bad, was it? Now it may take a while to work, how about we pass the time, eh?” Whumper reached down and picked up a shard of glass. 

Whumpee was mortified. 

***

Whumper wiped his hands on a napkin before looking back at whumpee. Who was panting and coughing. His shirt was tattered, wounds littered his body and blood was dripping onto the floor. 

Blood. Whumpee's blood. 

Oh No. 

He couldn’t be bleeding, what if he bled out? Was he going to die here? In this dark, grimy cell? No, he couldn’t die, could he? He's gone through worse, surely he'll survive this. But there was so much blood, his shirt was wet with it, it was leaking onto the ground! He couldn’t breathe. Oh God, he couldn’t breathe and he was going to die. 

“So whumpee, let’s see if my little potion worked.” 

Fuck, he nearly forgot. 

Whumper crept up behind him and rested his hands on whumpee’s shoulders. Whumpee jerked away. 

“What is your name?” 

He heard a voice, it was his. It was his but it wasn’t. It was dull and solemn with no inflection. His lips were moving, but he wasn’t the one moving them. He was like a puppet on a string. 

“Whumpee.” 

“Are you afraid, whumpee?” 

He turned away, he didn't want this, he wanted to be in the safety of his home, to see his friends, Fuck, he would even be thankful to see caretaker. 

“Yes.” 

More and more questions came, as whumpee's lips moved on their own. Tears dribbled down his cheeks as he unwillingly spilt  

Every. 

Last. 

Secret. 

[dwntwn-strnlo]

ELEVATE. 01 {stuck}

── ⟡˙ ̟ business!matt x ceo!reader

↳ synopsis. — all good rivalry starts in an elevator.

↳ a/n. — YES for the chapter reader has a name, but it's only going to be for the 3rd person chapters. all first person chapters reader will go by a nickname or nothing at all

↳ cw. — 3rd person, crude language throughout, fear

slamming the door open, lizzie hannah stumbled into the large lobby in a desperate attempt to run. but her pace quickly faded as she looked around, getting lost in the architecture of the building.

it was extravagant, really. the gold trim on the ceiling, the black velvet couches, even the mints in a pristine bowl on the service counter. it was the most insane thing she had ever seen. and that's saying something.

the room itself was so wonderful that she almost forgot that she was running late to a meeting. her meeting. it was her first meeting ever at this new company. and it was all for her arrival. only thing is, it starts at three.

looking down at her watch, she finds the clock ticking. it's 2:58. 

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-" she mumbled under her breath, fixing her skirt and readjusting her bag before making an utter break for it towards the elevator.

she pays no mind to the suited man in there, staring down at his phone. that is until her internal clock starts ticking, and the doors start to shut.

frantically, the girl waves her hands, almost falling straight to her knees once again. "hey, hey! wait!" she gasps, clutching her purse like her life depended on it.

the man looks up from his phone, locking eyes with the frantic girl. she looked absolutely crazy. "uhh" he spits out, trying to figure out what to do.

run? maybe. scream? no...

hold the door?

oh.

he quickly steps out to stop the retracting elevator door, putting a foot and hand in front of the steel.

lizzie runs in, breathless. "thank you-" she gasps, stepping into the elevator with relief. "thank you."

"careful there, might break a heel." the man smiles, chuckling lightly. he steps back to exactly where he stood before, pulling his phone back out. "also might wanna button that up before the boss sees."

she stares at him confused before looking down at her shirt. finding the top 4 buttons unclasped. "oh shit." she mumbled, growing embarrassed.

buttoning the shirt back up is a struggle. her face turns hot and her fingers become useless as they shake.

the door closes, and they both check the time. 2:59.

standing restlessly, lizzie shifts back in forth between her feet as the elevator starts to move upward. "thank you, for holding the door open, i appreciate-"

her words are cut off when the elevator comes to a screeching halt, and the beaming lights flicker off one by one.

the man's eyes fly open as he looks up from his phone. "oh no, oh no-" he exasperated, stepping up to the door. trying to shove it open. trying to pull it apart. trying everything he can to not possibly be stuck in here. "i knew i should've taken the stairs, oh my god- oh my god-"

"are you kidding me?" the girl groans, stepping up to the elevator door, trying to help pull it open. "open the door! come on open it I have somewhere to be." 

the tall brunette flicks his hardened gaze in her direction, but only momentarily when he remembers how absolutely terrified he is. trying to get the door open just like she had demanded.

"i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die." he whispers frantically, now at this point having given up on opening it, bangs his fists on the stainless steel.

she laughs. she laughs. the man snaps his head back to look at her. his piercing eyes staring right through the girl. 

immediately as if being scolded by a parent, she stops laughing.

"why are you laughing." he huffs, giving up completely on escape.

again, her face flushes. skin growing uncomfortably hot. "sorry." she giggles again. throwing a hand up to her mouth to stop herself. "it's just-" she snickers, having to look away. "you don't seem like you'd be scared of elevators."

he looks her up and down with a harsh stare. thinking of what to say. he readjusts the prada bag on his shoulder. unsure of what to do in this situation. a pretty girl laughing at him, and being stuck in an elevator? every rich white boys worst nightmare.

only now as he looks at her with such disdain fear, lizzie gets to admire him. she smiles weakly, "hey i mean we're all scared of something," she rubs at her chin. "i'm scared of butterflies."

his eyes widen and he bursts out into laughter. he nearly doubles over, putting his hands on his chest to try and bring his breath back. the brunette laughs, tears brimming his eyes. "butter-butterflies?" he giggles, wiping at his eyes.

"yeah, so what?" she furrows her brows, crossing her arms over his chest. too, readjusting her bag. her brand? dior.

"you seem a little... sleezy to be an assistant." he says, poking her white bag. eyes flicking up to hers. his reflection darkened in the sunglasses atop of her head.

she scoffs, "assistant?" her grip on her bag tightens. "what makes you think that's what i am?"

he smiles softly, "just a guess, was hoping you'd bring me some coffee. would you like my order now... or?"

"you're a real dick, you know that?" she looks him up and down. almost forgetting about what's going on as she drinks in his tall, dark figure.

his teasing grin drops as the words fall past her lips. "yeah." he frowns. glaring down at her. "you know, i have a real important meeting with the new ceo that i'm already late too, and your not putting me at ease."

the girl looks up at him, raising a brow. "really." she scoffs, "what's you're name?"

furrowing his brows, he ignores the sound of the breaker turning on, and the doors scratching open. "matthew," he smiles, "matthew sturniolo."

"good to know," she smiles back, stepping around him and off the elevator just in time for the doors to close again. 

"what's your name?" he calls after her, turning around to step off the elevator.

"lizzie hannah." she calls out. not glancing back until the door is almost closed.

only then it hits him that the new girl, started the same day as the ceo. and there is no assistant. it's just lizzie, the ceo.

he stares at her in shock as the doors start to close, forgetting that this is his floor.

"i like white mochas, by the way."

xoxo HARLEY . . .

----- guys this one's not gonna flop i swear im not a flop

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Been a while hasn’t it? I don’t know if you’re still posting for the prompt list but if you are could you indulge a Marko fan and do #16 with him please?

Oh my god, I am so sorry to let this request go unanswered for so long. I'm so sorry for the wait and a happy new year!!! (Seriously, it's been months since you asked this, and I just completely forgot - so sorry!) But yes, I can absolutely make this - I hope you like it!

16. "Come in, please. I'm mad at you, but I don't want you to burn to crisp."

------------------------------

A sigh escaped me as I laid down on the flat roof of my shed, staring up at the night sky. It was a clear night, and not only could I see the stars and the moon brightly, and if I really stared, I swore I could see an actual nebula. I smiled.

Next to me, a little less relaxed than I by the sight of it, laid my boyfriend. It wasn't that he didn't like stargazing - after all, he had suggested this. He tried his best to relax and to enjoy the night, but I noticed how tense he was. I sat up as I looked at him.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"You look constipated."

"No I don't."

I gave Marko a look that clearly said 'yes, you do', but didn't say anything. "You know that if you're bothered by something you can tell me, right?"

"Babe," he sat up now too, "there's nothing wrong. I'm just hungry."

"We can order some food-"

"Not that kind of hungry."

"Oh." I swallowed, nodding as I was thinking. It had been a short while since he told me what he was, and if I was being honest, it was a difficult thing to wrap my head around. The guy I liked was undead. At least a hundred years old. Somehow, I was still more grown up than him, and it made me wonder if maybe that was a problem sometimes? Not just a night owl by choice, but by natural force.

Needless to say, it was quite a shock to experience that he was, in fact, a vampire. Even though I had managed to wrap my head around the many aspects of his vampiric life, the blood drinking - arguably the main part of his life since it was his literal life source - was one I still felt a little uncomfortable with.

Maybe it was because I knew he'd hunt people like me. Because I knew he'd flirt with them before killing them. Maybe it was because I couldn't fathom the thought of drinking blood. And maybe it was because I was a little scared. Because what if he bit me too? And i hated myself for thinking that because I knew he would never hurt me. I also hated myself for thinking that because a part of me, deep down, hidden far away, found that thought to be incredibly hot.

"If you need to hunt, then-" I was about to say something else but Marko interrupted me.

"I'll be back soon, babe."

With those words he left, and as I saw him fly off, I climbed down the roof, cursing myself for not getting a ladder while climbing up there, and went inside my house. I barely greeted my house mates as I walked past them to my room, locking the door behind me as I entered. There, on the bed laid his jacket. He had dropped it off inside earlier this evening when he found himself bothered by the heat, but now, all alone and quite frankly missing him sinc the left so suddenly, I was beyond glad he left it here.

I changed into my pyjamas, just a tanktop and some shorts, and slid the jacket on. The sleeves were a bit too large for me, but the softness was ever so surprising. The coat was heavy, as i had expected. Marko had added so many layers of patches, chains, and decorations that it almost started to feel like a weighted blanket. I smiled as I pulled the jacket close, laying down on my bed.

It didn't take long before I drifted off to sleep, dreaming a wonderful dream. My window was slowly pushed open, a gloved hand wrapping itself around the windowsill as a figure pulled himself up. Marko climbed in, vamped out but clean from all blood. He smiled at my sleeping form, walking closer and closer until he sat on the edge of the bed. There he leaned over me, leaving a trail of kisses down my cheek and neck, his fangs softly grazing my thin skin.

I shuddered.

I woke up with a quiet groan, feeling another added weight on top of me. Marko was giving me a soft kiss in my neck, and once he realised I was awake, he began to kiss me for real, kissing my lips and deepening the kiss.

I didn't mind, we had talked about this before and I had told him that kisses were fine. I quite liked waking up to soft kisses, but tonight, something seemed different. The kisses were more urgent and more forceful. As I tried to ask him what was wrong, he shut me up immediately, his mouth trailing down my face to my neck and there-

I yelped out in pain as I felt two fangs enter my neck.

He bit me.

He didn't listen when I called his name, didn't react when I tried to pull him off, or when I pulled him by his hair. Only when I slapped him when he didn't react for the fourth time did he look up, his expression frozen in horror.

"Why the fuck did you bite me?!"

"I don't know, I-"

"Forget it," I hissed, glaring at him. I had been clear about this from the very beginning. No biting. "I don't want to see you here again. Get out."

He didn't respond, he just stared at me.

"Get out!"

He disappeared as if he had never even been there, everything still remaining the exact same. I sat up, tears welling up in my eyes. I shook his jacket off, laying it on my desk chair, and went to my window to lock it.

Before going back to bed, I made a small detour to my bathroom, a small space that held the only mirror I owned. I looked into it and saw two puncture marks on my neck. I inspected them closer and saw to my relief that they weren't deep. Still, I thought quietly as I laid back down and pulled the covers over me, he bit me.

A week passed before I saw him again. An agonisingly long week in which I wasn't sure about him, about me or the relationship that the two of us had. I couldn't help but still feeling angry, and little betrayed even. I had trusted him not to do this and yet here somehow did.

I woke up one early morning by the sound of rocks hitting my window. As i lazily opened my eyes I heard the first birds of the day starting their songs, and walked to my window with a slight surprised look. There, outside, standing in the shadows was Marko.

I unlocked my window - the first time that week - and looked at him. I then looked at the sky and realised that the sun was really close to rising.

"Marko, come on!"

"What?!" He called back, not coming any closer.

"Come in, please. I'm mad at you, but I don't want you to burn to crisp."

In less than half a second, he stood in front of me within my room. I quickly closed the window again and pulled the curtains shut.

"What were you doing out so late? You could have burnt!"

"I needed to know you were alright."

"You bit me!"

Marko nodded, looking rather shamefully down to the ground. "I'm sorry it happened."

"Why did it happen?"

"I just fed and -"

"What, you wanted some desert?"

"No! Yes, no," he shook his head, "I wanted to wake you, to spend some more time with you."

"So?" I shrugged. "I don't bite you when I need attention."

"I know! But - I haven't been totally forthcoming to you."

"About what?"

"About what you are to me."

"I thought we were a thing," I sat down on my bed, looking at him. He nodded, so thankfully that wasn't it.

"We are. But-"

I froze. He couldn't be serious. A 'but' in a relationship talk was always a bad thing. Always.

"But what?"

"We're more than that."

I stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"What are we then?"

"You are my mate," he said, leaving no room to argue, "and when I came back and saw you asleep with my jacket on, instinct took over. I needed to make you mine."

I sighed, realising that he really had no ill intentions and was instead acting upon someone vampiric urges. I looked at him, realising how bad he must have felt that it happened. How glad I was that he found his way back here now that the sun was rising outside. He came back. He came to me for safety.

So I looked at him, pulling him closer when I smiled at him.

"You don't need to bite me to know that I'm yours."

[rainebelowzero]

Steve Harrington x Male Reader

not a request

notes: I think this is the first time I've written something where you're explicitly dating the person, yippee 🥳 also this is supposed to take place between S3 and S4, I think it's kinda vague but that's what I was thinking of when I was writing this

cws: blowjob (reader receiving), multiple orgasms, steve gets a facial, some sadness (a little, don't worry)

..Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen…This isn't helping. You think, staring up at your ceiling in the dark, trying to tire yourself out. It had been...exactly 4 days since you've slept a full 8 hours, and the people around you have been starting to notice.

After everything that's happened, it was hard for you to sleep, so you normally stayed in bed, unable to close your eyes. What made it worse was that you were home alone. Your parents respected you as a responsible adult, which was good but you really didn't want to be home alone.

You had considered calling your boyfriend or one of your friends, but it was late and you didn't want to wake them up. You felt guilty asking one of them to come over.

So you lay there. Dealing with it on your own. You'd fall asleep eventually. Hopefully.

That's until a faint sound comes from downstairs. You try to ignore it. Maybe it was from outside, it happens sometimes. Or maybe the house was settling. Or maybe-

The sound happens again. The creaking of the wooden floor downstairs. Your parents weren't supposed to be home until later the next day, so it couldn't be them.

You stayed still for a second, hoping, praying you weren't about to be taken by some kind of monster. You think about the others. You'd be gone without a trace. Alone. You refuse to go out that way.

You reach out into the darkness, knowing exactly where your bat is. You creep down the stairs, seeing the vague shape of a figure moving in the almost pitch black of your living room.

As you get down the stairs, you notice that it's pretty..human shaped?

You lean towards a lamp, yanking the chain to turn it on. You and the figure jump seeing each other, the man spinning around to face you. Your eyes need to adjust to the light, though it's faint, but you squint at the man.

“Steve?”

He grins sheepishly. “Hi.”

You let out a relieved sigh, dropping the bat down next to you. You didn't realize, but your hands are shaking, Steve drawing your attention to it as he notices and grabs your hands, squeezing them. His hands are warm, very warm, and he looks at you with guilty eyes and a frown.

“I'm sorry I scared you, I just..I couldn't sleep and I wasn't really thinking about how that would scare the shit out of you. I just needed to see your face.” He apologizes profusely.

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He returns the action immediately, and you take in his weirdly super soft sweater and his warm, inviting scent.

“It's okay. I couldn't sleep either.” You respond, your voice muffled as you stay close to him. You pull away a little bit, suddenly confused. “Wait, but, how'd you get in?”

You knew he had a thing for crawling in through windows, but none of yours were open.

“You gave me a key, remember?” He says, pulling out his bundle of a bunch of keys, jingling it a little bit.

You nod. You genuinely forgot you did that. Pulling fully away from him, you drop down onto the couch, sliding closer to him as he does the same.

“Is there a reason you couldn't sleep?” You ask. He shrugs, running a hand through his hair.

“I'm not sure. I've just been pretty restless, I guess.” He looks away from you, and in the dim, warm light of the still, silent living room, you can tell there's something he doesn't want to tell you. Maybe it's the same way you feel. Like you'll close your eyes and suddenly one of your friends will end up missing. Like you won't be there in time to help.

You slide a hand over his and give it a squeeze the way he did for you. He looks back to you, smiling softly. You glance over to your TV, before standing, stretching your arms a little bit. You grin at Steve.

“Let's watch a movie.” You say. You pick a random comedy to lighten the mood and slip it into the VCR, sitting back on the couch. The two of you stay snuggled together, enjoying each other's presence. The faint sound of rain against the ground comes from outside, and you feel way better than you did before with Steve there.

A little further into the movie, you feel the urge to be closer to him, so you hold him tighter, your arm around him and your other hand on his arm, gently running your fingers along it. You can feel the muscle underneath his sleeve, and you give his bicep a small squeeze.

He glances over at you and you laugh softly. He gives you a grin and goes back to watching the movie as you lay your head on his shoulder. Throughout the movie, your hand moves from his arm to his chest, running your hand along his body. He doesn't mind, just turning to press a kiss to your temple and letting you basically feel him up. You slip your hand under his sweater and the shirt underneath, and he jumps a little bit before laughing.

“Your hand is so cold. What are you doing?” He asks playfully.

You shrug, feigning innocence. “Nothing. I can't touch my boyfriend?”

He gives you a suspicious eyebrow raise and looks away, back to your TV.

You move your hand up a little bit underneath his sweater and shirt, and he shudders a little, but doesn't acknowledge it. You pull your hand back, and he sits forward, lifting the sweater over his head. His shirt rides up a little too, and you can see the start of his happy trail, eyeing his body as he tosses the sweater aside, then pulls his shirt off too and sits back down.

You go back to touching him, and he laughs a little bit as you give his chest a soft squeeze. He turns towards you, kissing your forehead. He raises a hand, gently cupping the back of your head as he presses kisses to your face.

You lean forward, kissing his shoulder. Sliding into his lap, you place your knees on either side of his legs, kissing up his chest and then to his neck. His hands go to your waist, holding you as you kiss up to his face, purposely kissing everywhere but his lips. He gives you a fake pout when you pull away.

“What?” You laugh, and he laughs with you, dropping the facial expression.

“You missed a spot.” He responds.

“Did I?” As you say that, he pulls you closer, capturing your lips in a needy kiss. You hold his face gently, Steve kissing you like it's the last thing he'll ever do, like he's dying of thirst and you're the only thing to relieve it.

Your other hand rests against his chest, and your fingers run over one of his nipples a few times, making him groan into your mouth. You knew how sensitive they usually were, and you keep flicking your fingers against his nipple as the bud starts to harden and perk up. You do the same for the other one, switching hands. You pull away for a second, taking a breath before going back to kissing him, rolling his nipple between two of your fingers.

His hips buck up a little bit, and you roll your hips against him to pull more desperate sounds out of him. He gently puts a hand over yours to stop you as he catches his breath.

“Can I suck you off?” He asks, his voice almost a whisper. You grin and nod, climbing off of him. You shove your pants down eagerly while Steve gets on his knees in front of you, hands resting on your thighs. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart a little bit. One of his hands strokes you through the fabric of your boxers, and he gently pulls your cock out, pressing his lips to the head. His lips wrap around the head, tongue gliding along it as he slowly strokes at the base.

You run your fingers through his hair as he takes more of you into his mouth. He lowers his head more and more, until you're fully into his mouth. He pulls your cock all the way out before swallowing it down his throat, bobbing his head and using his tongue to lick against the underside of it. He gags a little, but keeps going, his eyes tearing up a little. You thrust into his mouth, pushing his head down lightly, still letting him do it himself for the most part.

His lips are slick with his spit, dripping down his chin as he releases muffled moans around you. You groan, holding his head in place for a moment, and he lets you thrust yourself into his mouth roughly, staring up at you. The eye contact makes the heat in your stomach grow, and you pull out before you can get to your release. Steve catches his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He grins up at you while you calm yourself down.

“Getting excited already?” He asks teasingly. You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Shut up.” You respond in a joking tone, leaning down and kissing the man on the lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. He sits back on the couch, and you're instantly back on him, kissing his neck and squeezing his thigh.

He sighs in pleasure, and he pulls his pants off, dropping them on the floor. He turns onto his stomach, pushing his hips back against your dick. You grab his hips, grinding yourself against him a little before pushing his underwear down, revealing his plush, hair covered thighs and thick ass. You spread him open, showing his tight hole, already slick with what you assume is lube. He lets out a soft whimper that he tries to cover.

“Did you already prep yourself?” You ask, kind of surprised.

He turns his head back a little to look at you, half nodding. “I tried to make myself tired, but it didn't work and then I was super..” He trails off, looking for the word.

“Needy?” You finish, giving his ass a squeeze. He moans softly.

“Yeah. For you.”

You giggle lightly, grinding your cock against his hole as it clenches and unclenches around nothing desperately. Steve lets out a few soft gasps, burying his face in his arm as his heavy cock hangs between his legs, tip rubbing up against the couch. You notice and pull your shirt off, sliding it under him so he doesn't ruin the couch. That'd be really hard to explain to your parents.

You almost want to stay like this forever, watching this gorgeous man beneath you grind his ass back against your cock, hole slick and ready to take all of you. You hold him still, guiding yourself into him. Steve groans as the head pops in, and you slowly, almost painfully slow, slide your cock into his ass, his walls inviting you in, holding you snugly.

He has to resist the urge to whine, your dick stretching him out so good, nothing like his fingers. It was exactly what he was craving, legs shaking as you push in to the base and pressing so deliciously against his prostate.

You start to move, thrusting in and out of him before pulling out to the head and slamming yourself back into him. He moans loudly, back arching. His fingers claw at the arm of the couch as you pound into him, your thick cock bullying its way into the man's tight hole each time, pounding against his prostate.

Steve is practically seeing stars, and you have to reach forward to cover his mouth, not wanting your neighbors to hear how loud he's being. He moans loudly into your palm as you dig the nails of your other hand into his hip. He fucks himself back on you and you feel him tense up as he cums without warning, spurting all over the shirt you placed under him. You don't slow down even a little, completely abusing that sensitive spot inside of him and making him twitch and whine from the overstimulating pleasure.

You keep stretching his hole wide, and Steve swears he can feel you in his stomach, knowing he definitely won't be able to walk afterwards. The sound of skin against skin fills your living room, Steve's muffled moans bordering on full on yelling sounding like absolute music to your ears.

He lets out a loud, heavy sob as he tenses again, squeezing tight around you and cumming again. His eyes roll back before his head falls against the arm of the couch. You stop covering his mouth, the only sounds he's letting out being soft, breathy whimpers and desperate gasps for air.

You pound into him a few more times before pulling out and getting off the couch, pumping your cock as you grab Steve by the hair, yanking his head back. He looks so thoroughly fucked out and he sticks out his tongue as you jerk yourself off over his face, groaning as you shoot your hot load all over his face. He moans weakly, swallowing what he could catch in his mouth and dropping his head back down when you let go of him.

He pants heavily, as do you, catching your breaths, when you notice that he's still hard, cock rubbed red against your bundled up t-shirt. He lifts his head enough to look at you, and wiggles his hips a little, silently begging you to keep going. You get back up. You had a lot of time before your parents got back, after all.

[miss0atae]

Random Thoughts about The Heart Killers (EP 1 – 6) : An interesting Rom-Com with morally grey characters.

The long awaited post I've wanted to make, but always failed to do properly. Since we are not getting an episode today (which is a damn crime because the wait is killing me!), I've decided to feed my poor soul with some writing about the series. I won't add anything that haven't already been said on here, so I won't feel sad if you don't pay attention to this post. It's just me screaming in the void of internet to try thinking about something else. I knew I would like this series (I like the actors, the directors, the plot… everything has been set according to my own taste), but I try to reason with me. You shouldn't put too many expectations on a series, otherwise you're at a risk of being disappointed. I also give better advice that I never really follow, so yes I had expectations and until now they have been fulfilled. I would be lying if I didn't say that at one point or another I was really annoyed by the characters' actions. I tend to forget that the series is 12 episodes and I'm looking forward to seeing the sweet scenes between the main couples (real ones with no lying). I was promised a rom-com, so don't be mad at me for being a little fool here. I'm a bit impatient as you can see. However, I know that I shouldn't react in the heat of the moment so I waited until now to write something about The Heart Killers.

Usually, in a rom-com you get characters that are archetypes usually found in this type of story. In the Heart Killers, most of the characters are neither good neither totally evil (except maybe Mother, but she may also have a good side, who knows). All characters have their strengths and weaknesses and they may appear on different sides, but they all have a strong, justifiable reason for doing what they are doing. I've making this grid for a while now. I may have forgotten some information, but it's just my own perception of the series so far. Things may change in the coming episodes.

So why was I annoyed by the characters at one point or another? I guess one part of the reason is that I forgot the structure of a rom-com because of the unique setting the screenwriters and the director put our main characters in. Any rom-com follows a certain structure in three times I would say.

• The first part is the presentation of the setting, the characters and their unfulfilled needs.

• The second part is when you have the meet-cute (or not so cute) between the characters. It is followed by the honeymoon stage until obstacles arise at the midpoint and the relationship is in jeopardy (that's where we are right now in the story). Usually, it's when the couple break up or start to have doubts.

• The third and final part is the moment of realization where the characters can view themselves outside the relationship and decide what are their new desire and goals. It leads everyone to the final of the story that usually ends on a happy note or at least give the viewers some hope for the characters if they don't end up together (my personal choice would be a happy ending for everyone, but I like to be surprised).

We've seen the first part already and have moved on the second part. I believe in the Heart Killers the break-up part could be different. Will the characters really break-up now that they think they have understood the needs of the others?! I don't think so. I believe they are all going to pretend to be together to try to outmatch the other ones and to learn the truth. They believe they are in opposite sides, but the truth is their main enemy who is working against their desire/happy ending remains Mother and to a lesser extent Keen (until Mother works against him and he may become an ally to the main leads). We could probably add the Captain too.

So, even knowing that, the question remains: why was I annoyed by the characters, despite loving everything else?! It's because I viewed them through my own sets of value while forgetting who they are and the setting of the series. To be fair, I'm used to rom-com characters who usually are not morally wrong. Here, in this story, none of them is really right or wrong. After all, they are on different standpoints and the perspectives they can reach are not the same. They represent different sides with different views (sorry I'm rambling here). I would say, Style may be the only characters who didn't have a criminal past and his worst fault is that he didn't flirt (at first) with Fadel for love, but for greed to possess Kant's car. The other characters, Kant, Bison and Fadel, all are or were a criminal at one point. Does it mean that criminals can't fall in love because what they are doing is morally wrong? The story doesn't agree with this point, as all of them were dragged to this because of something external. Kant needed money to take care of his brothers and Fadel and Bison were forced into this line of work by their “guardian” Mother who pretends to make them go after other “criminals” because the justice system isn't doing the right wrong. In some way, she isn't wrong, as the only “justice” figure we meet in the story is Captain Christ. He isn't a nice guy too as he is threatening Kant to force him to do his work in exchange for freedom from his past.

The idea of writing morally grey characters is interesting as it maintain the suspense, both in the relationship between the main leads, but also in the core structure of the story. The characters had needs at the beginning of the story, but their desire slowly changed by interacting with their lovers and other characters. It is also good for viewers as they have the opportunity to prefer one side over the other one. I changed my mind a lot during those six episodes. I was feeling terribly sorry for Bison when I saw Kant's playing with his heart, but in the last two episodes, I understood how hard it must be for him to keep pretending while also falling in love, despite knowing the truth. I was amused by Style's aggressive flirting with Fadel, but also felt annoyed on behalf of Fadel as I noticed how his "secret life" was putting a toll on his mental health. Choosing to have morally grey characters work better with the setting of the story. Otherwise, who would root for hitmen to fall in love? The fact we care so much about the actions of the main characters and what impact it will have on their romantic relationship, confuse us and make us anticipate the next move they may make. It also allows the true villains of the story to actively continue working against our main leads' happiness. The ones who really gain from the new feud between the main couples are the Captain and Mother. They may believe they are in their rights, but they use the main characters as chest pieces, without regard for the toll it can have on their well-being.

Mother is using the maternal figure she has set to control Fadel and Bison's action. She is pretending to care about them. She willfully taught them how to be hitmen to supposedly kill other criminals. The reason may appears good, but the actions are not valid. You can't Pay Evil unto Evil. She pushed our characters in this place by using the death of their parents as an example of failed justice. She knows much buttons to push to keep them in the place she wants them to be. Mother pretends to understand that they are tired of being hitmen and that this job will be the last one, but will it really be the last one? She also purposely and actively works against their happiness, by keeping them lonely. Bison and Fadel may think they are in controls, but the viewers can see, they don't really have a say in their actions or life. They never settled before and they don't really know how to. They find a different way to cope with this, but deep down they are still prisoners of what Mother has made of their life. As for Kant, he is also being controlled by the Captain who knows about his desire to protect and care about his younger brother. He uses his criminal past to make him an informant. Unlike Mother who pretends to act as a true mother to the brothers, he doesn't lie about his real view of Kant. However, just like her, he knows much buttons to push to keep Kant working for him.

As for me now, I can’t wait for Bison, Kant, Fadel and Style to overcome the lying part and the feeling of betrayal they will have regarding their relationship, so they can all be on the same side and fight against their real enemies.

[mtsyik]

The babysitter and the babysittee♡

Chapter 4: younger kid?

Chapter three!

Tags: 18+ satoru gojo x reader, babysitter!reader, babysittee!gojo, friends to lovers, one-sided pining, age-gap relationship, a whole lot of flirting, smut, mentions of drugs, angst, mentions of death, lovesick!gojo, engineering student!gojo, architecture student!reader

a/n: aaa!! Isn't it awful how I didn't write for like a week because I got my nails done? All the laptop writers will feel me on this I fear. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and an even better new year!! See ya ♡

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Deja vu hits you swiftly as you maneuver through the crowd. Only this time, you are also drunk and horny; matching the majority of the public here. You are not too shocked by the number of people the frat had managed to gather. Your expectations were raised to barely walkable hallways and crammed living room, alcohol smelling couch, and weed stinking walls.

You sip on your red cup filled with rum and Coca-Cola, eyeing some dudes in the back. You recognize them from the school's hockey team, and a small grin appears on your face as you walk past them. The mini dress you had put on served in your favor, your eye catching the heads that turned in your presence. You walk into the kitchen with a confident stride as you await for ... well, something.

You sigh as you lean on the kitchen counter, the cold marble grazing softly your exposed back. You slightly shiver at the touch and mourn your fresh packet of cigarettes that you forgot in your car. You gulp down the last bit of your drink and throw the cup away in the nearest bin, crossing your arms over your chest. The alcohol in your system is making you woozy, being the true lightweight you are. You close your eyes in the feeling, and you mentally picture the most handsome blue eyes you have ever seen-

You shake your head violently. You then glance in the kitchen's entryway for any welcome intruders and find none. Instead Maki comes stumbling in, her hands reaching to grab the doorway to steady herself.

She calls out your name as she leans in close to you, whisper shouting at you.

"I tttthhhink! She likes me!!" The grin on her face makes you chuckle, and with a reassuring rub on her shoulder from you and your specific words being ,go get her Maki, the woman straightens her back and nods her head, heading off and presumably into the embrace of a specific red haired girl you have yet to meet. Although your friend was surprised you had agreed to come, she seemed to be a lot socially calmer than usual with you being here. You wait for somebody to hit on you, too.

As desperate as you are to get the picture of Gojo Satoru out of your mind, you are not going to make the first move on any guy. Call it pride or stubbornness if you will, but you refuse to hit on a guy first. Yuna would roll her eyes at the statement.

As if reading your mind, one of the hockey players from before makes his way to the kitchen, eyeing you down. He is cute, you think. With ragged brown hair and a charming smile, he makes his way towards you and leans on the counter. He hits on you with possibly one of the corniest lines you've heard, but the alcohol in your belly and the wet patch in your panties make you giggle cutely at him. Not bad, you think. Maybe you will end up getting laid tonight after all.

You try not to let your thoughts get to you as you start actually kissing him. His lips are a little chapped, but his skillful tongue more than makes up for it as he lightly traces the inside of your bottom lip. Your own tongue locks with his, and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. You truly missed this.

Your hands find the back of his neck as you bring him impossibly closer to you. His body heat vibrating off of him as your chests touch - and wowww you never knew hockey could make someone so ripped. His hands are on your hips, and he moves to press his erection on your front -

When someone pulls him off of you.

"Whoa there fellas there is a crowd near you!"

You're panting, lipstick bleeding outside of the outline of your lips as you try desperately to wipe it away despite the buzz in your head. You smooth down your dress and attempt to make it seem like you weren't being fondled just seconds ago.

"W- what?" The guy that you were making out with just moments ago was being pulled away from you by a strong hand on his shoulder. He stammers a little bit, clearly taken aback at the sudden interruption. The slightest irritation is evident in your gaze as you take in Geto, leaning smuggly in the guy's personal space.

"Why don't you go take a walk, hm? Cigarettes on me." Geto pulls out a packet of cigarettes and hands it to the guy. He tries to protest but is shut down by Getos' intense gaze and firm squeeze on his shoulder.

You click your tongue in the roof of your mouth as you were left alone in the kitchen with Suguru.

"Em? What the hell?"

He grins. "Well, hello to you too, sweetie. "

Your hands raise past your shoulders, a sign of your evident aggravation. Why, why, for the love of God, can't you get a sliver of peace?

"Mind explaining what the actual fuck-"

"I didn't take you for the kind of girl to make out with randoms at parties." Suguru leans on the counter, his arms crossed as he turns his head to look at you. The fitted white shirt he has on hugs his toned arms and makes him look huge in comparison to you. You sigh heavily, almost dragging your hand over your face but stopping at the last second, remembering that you had put on makeup for the party. You instead grip your scalp to steady yourself and place your elbows on the table in front of you, unintentionally leaning forward in your short dress.

"Since when do you have an opinion on what I do? And with who?"

"With whom."

At that, you drop your hands on the table loudly and turn to look at him. Geto has a wolfy grin plastered on his face, his gaze dropping momentarily to the chair he pulls for you.

"You're drunk. Why don't you sit?"

You, instead, opt to stand up straight faster than you should and decline. The black spots you see in your vision make you stop in your tracks just for a moment before you make your way to the living room where the mass of people were.

"Fuck off. " With a flick of your middle finger, you emerge back in the party. You spot Maki, making out with that girl from engineering (Nobara, you think), and you're pretty sure that Yuna is flirting with the flustered business major she has been eyeing for quite some time. You grab a red cup and fill it with vodka this time, praying that it's not too late to keep your fainting buzz going as you make your way upstairs.

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The moment Satoru enters the party and sees you flirting with some hockey - team, nobody, his heart stops. Shoulders dropped and vision blurry from the pre - game Todo invited him to, he cannot tear off his gaze from your stupidly pretty lip glossed - lips forming a smile from a -probably- atrocious pick up line. The idiotic sunglasses in the shapes of hearts that hung on his hairline fall dramatically on the bridge of his nose; his hair disheveled.

His mind wavers over to today, the way you looked so pretty up close, the way he was going to lean in and kiss you.

The way you jumped up and scurried off before he had the chance to.

After today, Satoru was 100% sure you were attracted to him. May the sky fall, swear to God hope to die, kind of sure. He had practically raced back to the court, shaking Geto off of his own bones, yelling, "You were right!" . The rest of the evening he had spent rammaging through his entire apartment, looking for the 'perfect thing to wear' at tonight's party. Choso and Yuji teasing him throughout the entire process, saying he looked like he had slept with a hanger in his mouth with how wide his smile was. He had ignored them, instead praying to whatever deity he thought of that Yuna would succeed in her efforts to get you to come to tonight's frat.

And you did! His prayers were answered. And you are invredibly attracted to him, so why aren't you doing anything? Why are you flirting with a random guy at a stupid frat instead of being with him? Why aren't you flirting with him? Because of some stupid moral thing you promised yourself when you were 15?

He downs his cup full of - shit, even he didn't know what the fuck he just drank- and made his way over to you. Well, tried to make his way over to you.

"What are you doing, man?"

Satoru glared at his raven haired friend. Why is he stopping him?

"You're gonna what? Stop her from having a good time?"

"I'll-"

"Confess your everlasting love for her?"

"Well-"

"Admit that she's the only one you've ever loved?'

"Well, yes!-"

"NO! Because you don't say that kind of crap to a girl you met for the first time in what- a decade?"

Satoru puffed his cheeks and pouted. His cheeks were an adorable shade of red (thanks to the shots his coach provided him), and his eyes were slightly glossy.

"Well- what am I meant to do?"

"Nothing! Dont worry, man, I've got you. "

With that, Satoru finds himself frowning, even pouting at the teasing wink Suguru throws his way. His last words to the white-haired man consisted of him trying to convince Gojo not to make a move. At least not tonight. Something about finding out your true feelings towards him and whatnot. Satoru couldn't really listen over the music, plus Todo was already tugging on him because he found some girls. The led lights that were slung around the entire house lit up everyone in a mix of blue, red, purple, and green tones. Gojo couldn't help but sigh, not even having to request another drink from Todo, who made sure to keep his friend's cup filled.

As Satoru walked away with Todo, Geto turned his attention towards you. Shamelessly making out against the polished kitchen counter. Shaking his head to himself, he sighed. He couldn't really just let his friend's heart be broken this way now, could he? So, with a heavy heart and a reassuring smile to the girl that hit on him that he will be back, he marches to the kitchen. Grabbing the idiot that was making out with you by the shoulder. You seem clearly startled by this, and Geto feels bad for only a second. After ushering the guy to head out, he takes you in. Tight dark blue dress hugging your curves just right, with black heels. A cropped black cardigan protecting your arms from the freezing cold of the season. Geto sighs. He isn't an idiot. He has seen the gazes that you give Satoru, the way your cheeks heat up at the proximity when he is near, the way your eyes dart when he hits on you suggestively. The way you are so clearly attracted to Gojo, but brush it off with a snide comment on how you could never date a younger guy, much less the cute little boy you used to babysit.

He also isn't oblivious to the idiocy that curses his best friend, eating up every excuse in the book that you provide him. Because he isn't used to reading signs. Satoru Gojo never had to read signs. If a girl liked him, she would show it (with many ways indeed), not giving the poor white-haired freak any doubts about how desired he was.

Geto groans at your retreaval, no doubt looking for some kind of entertainment that didn't include him correcting your speech. He drinks some kind of alcohol that he found on the edge of the table, not caring about whom it belonged to.

Satoru Gojo had to find out about your feelings tonight.

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Finding solace in one of the upstairs rooms seems useless; every single one of them being used for hook up spots (you still haven't confronted Yuna about your closets...). Until you find a door at the end of the hallway, unlocked, and with no potential herpes inside.

You forget to lock the door behind you, the easiness of the quiet engulfing you whole. What were you thinking? You were never good at this hookup stuff to begin with. Christ, you lost your virginity five years ago, and yet you've slept with - what? Three guys over the course of five years? What possibly made you think you could just waltz in one of the most sex demanding frat parties of campus and get laid? Well, that doesn't sound right. If you can't have sex here, then where?

Your thoughts occupied so much of your mind, together with the definitely not light buzz in your head, that you didn't notice the door unlocking.

With your ass on the soft bed and your neck craned upwards to massage the back of it, you barely miss the crack of lights emitting from the open door. There, the one person you didn't want to see standing in all his glory, eyeing you down. Then, to your demise, he closes the door and marches your way.

"W-wh-what are you... doing?" Your words fumbling out of you in a stutter you didn't even know you were capable of, you attempt to get up. Forgetting you had heels on, you stumble, strong hands catching you in a haze.

"You really are drunk." He smirks, his tone full of amusement as he drinks you in. Only slightly tipsy, Satoru is having the time of his life. Upon hearing that you would probably be heading upstairs by Geto, he marched his pretty ass on these stairs to get to you. And if there was one thing he understood that Suguru meant, is that tonight he would be getting answers.

His big, beefy arms are around your waist now, your own arms pressing on his shoulders to keep yourself steady. His legs are positioned between your own, and your mind is spiraling at the feeling of his heat emitting from his body to yours. Your pussy clenches around nothing, your panties gaining a wet patch from Satoru's breath on your face.

"This dress for me, pretty?"

"Sa- Toru.... " Your eyes catch his. Satoru thinks he can just faint at the sight of your glossy eyes peering up at him, mascara elongated lashes fluttering cutesy, lips forming a pout. At least now, he is reassured that his dick can, in fact, work properly, considering he was having doubts about how emotionless he was with the blonde chick hitting on him downstairs. You sigh, carefully plucked eyebrows scrunching in a way that makes Satoru's dick throb. Your hands wrap around his neck, your forehead leaning on his. Gojo is sure you can feel his heartbeat (and penis) underneath his clothing.

"Toru....why- Why are you doing this?" You almost whisper, catching him off guard.

"You're - you're driving me..... crazy...." Your hand reaching down his chest to trace invisible circles on his velvety shirt. You really don't have the slightest idea what you're doing to him. Your fresh set of manicured nails scratching his overgrown undercut sends him spiraling. His breath is uneven, his lips parted, and his pupils dilated as he gulps.

"I drive you c-crazy pretty girl?"

You hum in response, your brain too foggy to come up with an actual response.

"Soo' young too...what- *hic* ar'they feeding you these' days..."

Satoru's breath hitches as your arm drops lower and curls around his bicep. You whistle lowly at the absolute density of it, your hand far too small to actually curl around it whole. Gojo had already established how tiny you looked compared to him; his daydreaming about you worsening as the days pass by. Thoughts about bending you over that ridiculous crammed desk you keep at the university's workshop filling his head anytime you would appear with a skirt in front of him; bending over just slightly so you can explain the changes in your designs. Inappropriate thoughts entering his mind when he sees you taking drags off of your cigarettes, your lipstick staining the base of the filter of it; making him wonder what else that pretty lipstick of yours can stain.

"It matters that much that I'm younger than you?"

"*hic* Well, s' not just that..."

"Well what is it then? That you used to watch over me?"

"You..."

"What?"

Satoru can't help himself as he leans down to peck your cheek. Your reaction is priceless as he holds you close; left arm strong around your waist and right caressing your face. He holds your chin with the crevice between his thumb and index finger, his long fingers curling around your cheek.

You huff out as your face warms up, your eyes fluttering. For the first time, Satoru notices.

"What is stopping you?"

He murmurs against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise along your entire body. You're about to answer; admit that you have no idea what is actually stopping you. Admit that you are both adults now, and while three years seemed like a major difference back when you were in high school, it basically means nothing now. Gojo has proved how he is more than mature, so what is stopping you from being with an incredibly attractive man who was also attracted to you? And you really are about to respond to him-

But no worries! The alcohol in your system decided for you, making you black out before you even got a word in. The last thing you hear is curse words, no doubt coming from Satoru.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

The next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache. Groaning into your hand at the natural light emitting from the windows, you pull the lavender smelling covers over your head. Your eyebrows scrunching at the pain, you smack your hand on your bedside table in an attempt to find your morning glasses. Instead of your glasses, though, you find a glass of water with some kind of pills right next to it; aspirin you assume. You make a mental note to thank Yuna for-

Wait.

Yuna has no idea where you keep the medicine. You recall all the times the poor helpless woman was in pain but couldn't find the ibuprofen tabs you kept right on the shelf. But Maki does.

You let your head fall back completely and almost laugh at your stupidity. Maki probably put those out for you. Maki, who the last time you saw her was.... making out. Huh? If she did end up getting laid, wouldn't she go back to her apartment?

You sit up suddenly, with a pop! From your joints as you slowly take off the lavender smelling (aka: not from your washing machine) blanket off of you. You gasp as you glance around the foreign room. Big window on your right that lets the sun in, colors all coming from the same blue pallet keeping the space around you minimal. Posters hand on the walls, most of them from parties that you don't recognize happening around here, and oh!

A bunch of engineering stuff on a marble desk on the corner. Calculators, wrenches, bolts, sketchbooks, and rulers decorate the pretty marble. You keep looking around, trying to find some clue as to who this room belongs to.

Whom.

Your head is ringing at the silent correction, your hand going to clutch at your temple as you try to remember anything from last night. Instead of remembering, though, you are suddenly incredibly aware of the soft cotton that embraces your torso. With a soft gasp, you lift and then drop the blanket off of you and then on you. Apparently, whatever you were doing last night led to your dress being discarded off your body and replaced with a soft (probably pure cotton, my God who can even afford pure cotton these days) white shirt and a cute pair of red pyjama pants. The socks that you were apparently being given were on the floor, and you nod your head at the fact that even piss drunk, you can't sleep with socks on. You groan and rub your hand over your face, getting up finally.

You try to ignore how your makeup from yesterday was wiped off, apparently. What kind of gentleman did you find at a frat party?

You crack open the wooden door, carefully peaking at the outside of the comfy room you were just in. Not having heard anything (or anyone) suspicious moving around, you step outside unto the living room. It's cutesy, you think; the inside of the room you wer3 just in and the outside of it completely contrast. It's painted a variety of nude colors, beige being a consistent base for the living room/ kitchen. The apartment is very comfortable in general; splashes of warm brown here and there and soft red tidying everything up. You walk closer to what appears to be a photograph on the wall, your eyes widening upon seeing a pair of dashing blue eyes smiling in the photo.

Oh no, you did not!!

Panic shoots through you as you look through more photographs. Maybe this guy you apparently spent the night with was a... uh...fan? Of uh... the uh... basketball team! That had to be it! The next photo contains the entire basketball team, obviously a bit younger than now but still as handsome as ever. Maybe you were in the apartment of a uh... guy from the school's newspaper! Maybe somebody from the photographer club, who just wanted a good picture that he obviously would hang up in his... living room? Your thoughts overtaking you cause you to be oblivious to the coffee table behind you, and you trip and fall with a thud!

With your ass on the ground and your hands on your head to somehow make your brain stop hurting, your own groan concealed the sound of the door opening. Still, the vibrations on the floor by the tall and muscular man before you cause your eyes to snap towards him. Satoru comes in with an amused grin on his face, and what you could only assume is breakfast in the plastic bags in his hands. He makes his way towards you, placing the food delicately on the coffee table and discarding his shoes by the entryway (did he throw your dress in the same manner when he was undressing you?) he bends down to you.

"You really are clumsy, huh?"

His fingers gently tug your hand away from your face and interlock his hand with yours. He lifts you off the ground, eyes bright and grin sitting prettily on his face as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

"I brought you some breakfast. I-I didn't know what you liked so-"

"This was a mistake."

You avert your eyes from his as you take in his hurt expression, pulling your hand from his. You can not believe that would be this reckless and actually sleep with Satoru Gojo. I mean my God, what were you thinking? What about morals? What about ethics? What would your fifth grade teacher say if he found out you abandoned your previously set-in-stone morals for a one night stand that couldn't even lead anywhere?

"Um. Wow. I definitely didn't expect that."

Satoru scratches the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle escaping his throat.

"Although, I am not sure what you're referring to-"

"Listen. Satoru. I-"

You huff and puff, trying to make sense of what's happening. Your hands are now on your hips, on your face, in your hair. Anywhere really where you could be given some stability as you pace around.

"Whatever happened last night - it - it can not happen again."

His head tilts to the side as he eye's you in curiosity.

"What? You vomiting on me?"

"WHAT?! OH my God!! You've got to be - No! I don't even!!"

At this point, Satoru is trying to get a hold of you, but you get out of his grasp at the last second. You now seem to be playing a game of tag, with you behind the couch and Satoru leaning in to stop you from panicking.

"Look, it was fine! I mean, we made it back in the house with you only vomiting once! Well, my house, but hey, aren't you glad you get to spend your morning with me?"

You leap towards the center of the living room, with Satoru rounding the couch.

"We- I- we, what we did! Oh- it- it- can't happen again! You hear me!"

"What? What did we even do?"

You pause, Satoru across from you on the other end of the coffee table.

"W-w-well, well we uh, well we, had s-s-sex? Didn't we?"

Satorus eyes go wide, his grin widening as your cheeks turned red.

"And if we did?"

You shriek at the almost 2 meter tall man walking across the table and unto you, but not for the very last second in which you managed to get away and into the kitchen. You grab the first pan you find and point at him with it. Your breath ragged and uneven while Satoru just leaned with his arms crossed on the cabinet. Smirking down at you.

"The idea of you and I potentially having sex makes you this flustered? I mean, I know how hot you think I am -"

"What?!"

"But this? *whistle* whole new level."

You don't back down from his gaze. Instead, you bring the pan up to your eye level, threatingly.

"I'm not flustered. I am - disgusted. My the mere thought."

Satoru grabs the pan from you, and you dart towards the couch once more. His eyes are wide.

"You- disgusted?"

"Uh-huh. And... icky."

"Icky?!"

"And-oh!"

You don't even manage to finish your sentence because the absolute mountain of a man in front of you managed to tackle you unto the couch. You squirm and try to get away, but he pins your wrists above your head. Inappropriate thoughts start swimming your mind, and you need to remind yourself to behave.

"Disgusting, huh?" He whispers in your ear, and the sudden proximity makes you gulp. Satoru could barely keep it together with the sight of you, in his clothes, all comfy and disheveled, coming out from his bed. Wide eyes and red cheeks adoring your features. It was enough to drive a man mad.

He looks angelic as always, you think. Wearing not nearly enough proper attire for the cold of the season, wearing a tight shirt, and some sweats. He had a bandana on his head that pushed his gorgeous locks out of his face. It made you nervous. He made you nervous. Maybe it's about time you acknowledge the small crush-

Nope! Not happening! Instead you decide kneeing him in the nuts was the best way to go.

Satoru groans, his grip on you lightening. You get up hurriedly and watch his movements as he doubles over.

"You! Listen to me, mister!"

Satoru glances at the accusatory finger that is being thrown his way. Your hands exaggerate every word coming out of your mouth in a panicked attempt to make yourself clear.

"I, babysat you! Alright! So, you could grow up to three meters tall for all I care, gain all the muscle in the world, and gain all the knowledge available!"

You huff. Your breath is uneven as you try to sound intimidating.

"Are- Are those, compliments?"

"And I'd still see you as a younger kid!"

Well, that seems to have done some damage. By the way Satoru's expression turns from confused to agitated, you assume.

"I'm not-"

"To me, you are!"

Ready to fight you in that logic, the door opening and revealing Geto stops him. Having picked up dry cleaning (that looks like your dress from last night) He barely is able to walk through the door with that stupid grin on his face.

"Whoa, there, lovebirds. The entire building can hear you - whoa!"

You decide running for the door, grabbing the dry cleaning from Geto's hands and yelling something about paying him back later, is the best call to save your ass.

Gojo groans loudly, standing up and sighing loudly at the mess the entire apartment is in from your little game of tag, and contemplates chasing after you; but decides against it. He raises a hand as to shush Geto, who is about to ask what happened.

"I need to figure out a plan".

You need to see proof that Satoru is grown? Fine. There are other ways.

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a/n: phewww this took a while. I wanted to upload a longer chapter considering midterms are starting in a month, and I haven't even begun studying 😭😭. I hope this didn't seem rushed and that this was an enjoyable read!! Thanks to everyone who seems to like the story!! Happy New Year to everyone ♡

Taglist:

@trishiepo0

[orbweaverspidergirl]

Chapter 1: but you keep fronting

summary: You, a twenty-two-college graduate, have a business degree. You have no idea how to open a business and now you think you just wasted four years of your life! You cry for days, until you remember you have rent and a whole bunch of college debt, so naturally, you open a coffee shop. Oh, and your sister died, so now you have a thirteen-year-old niece to take care of!

Act 1

A/N: Yaya is a nickname that Ria calls you in replacement of uncle or aunt.

The door to your bedroom is cracked open again. 

You’re not necessarily creeped out, not anymore, at least. Your niece, Ria, has been coming in the middle of the night to sleep in your room. You don’t know why she doesn’t ask, but you just think maybe it’s teenage embarrassment, or the fact that she just lost her parents, and she feels, no doubt, extremely lonely. It’s one of the picks, and you think you’d rather deal with the first. 

You feel her shuffle around on your bed and you see drool on her face when she turns to you. You smile and shake her awake. “Ria–” You drag out her name, and she opens her eyes, glowering at you. You snort and sit up, legs off the bed. 

“How are you such a morning person?” She glances at the clock and groans, “Yaya, it’s only six...” You stifle a chuckle. 

“Yeah, and you have school, and I have work.” You get up from the bed, smiling. “C’mon, we don’t have all day!” 

“Ughhh…” She slides off the bed and is sluggish in getting up. Her pajamas have Hello Kitty head’s all over them and for a moment you’re reminded of how young she is. God, you remember how much you hated school. You shudder at the memory, and your mouth pulls into a frown. She finally walks out of your room, and you lock the door behind you. You put on some overalls with a white top under. 

When you walk out of the room, Ria is already dressed in her uniform for Gotham academy. She has a red headband on, and you can’t help but think your niece is the cutest in the world. She’s eating a bowl of cereal, Coco Puffs, and casually scrolling on her phone. “Hey Yaya, there’s this boy in my class that I think is cute.” She finally looks up at you, head tilted in her hands. 

“What’s his name?” You ask, pouring you a bowl of Coco Puffs. 

“Damian. He’s kinda mean, but I think he’s just faking it.” Your eyebrows go up and you let out a surprised ‘hmm.’

“Last name?” 

“Uhhhhh, Wayne, I think. Why?” You shove a mouthful of the sweet, chocolatey goodness in your mouth. 

“Ria, the Wayne family is like what keeps this city running. They are loaddedd.” You drag out the d’s, so she really gets your point. “Marry him when you’re older so we can be rich.” You point your spoon at her. 

“Yaya! You can’t say that!” She exclaims, finishing her bowl, and you laugh. 

“I’m kidding, obviously. But on a serious note, don’t let him treat you like sh-” you stumble over your words, “trash because he’s loaded.” She nods, not noticing your slip up. Thank God, you’re not trying to teach her cussing 101. 

“Okay! Let’s get ready to go. You have your bag?” She nods and you grab your wallet and phone. 

The drive to her school is uneventful as she talks about teenage bullshit that doesn’t even make sense. “Wait, so you’re saying that Kinsley kissed Brain and now Katelyn, his girlfriend, is mad at you because you didn’t tell her?” 

She jumps up in the seat in annoyance. “Yes!! But I was telling her that I had no idea they were kissing! And she doesn’t believe me, like at all!!” 

“Yikes. Friends, huh?” You ask, and you let out a small chuckle when she nods. You both pull up to the school and she opens the door, unbuckling herself sloppily when she sees Damian. 

She opens the door, turning her head at you, like she forgot something. “Yaya, have a good opening day! I’ll come by after school with Damian, probably!” You shoo her away from the door. 

“Okay, okay! Now go, I’m holding up the cars behind me!” She runs off, screaming an ‘I love you!’ and you smile under your breath. 

Love you too, kid. 

When you open your car door, the cool breeze immediately blows into your face. You see your best friend, Sasha, standing in front of the cafe. “Dude, hurry up, I’m practically freezing my tits off!��� She yells, rubbing her arms up and down. 

“You pull out your keys from your wallet and glance at her. “Not my fault you didn’t bring a jacket.” You open the door, and she thrusts in the building. You giggle and close the door. 

She looks at you and smiles wholly. “I’m glad to see you laughing again.” She says, softly. 

You look away from her and put your things down on the barstool. “Well, y’know. The world moves on, and I have a kid now. I have to be strong for her.” 

She hugs from behind, head on your shoulder, “I know, but you’re doing good.” You both grin at each other. “Now! Time to open up the damn shop.” She yells, and you roll your eyes. 

“I’m so glad we prepped yesterday,” you mumble. You turn the lights on, and she props open the front door. “Hey, will you go and post us as online on the website?” 

“Yeah!” 

The day goes on and customers storm in and out. You thought you’d feel more nervous, but in all honesty, it was a good opening. Sasha had to leave a little early before closing, but you didn’t mind. It got less packed as the day went on, so you really just sat around on your phone for the most part. 

You were worried, however. Ria should have showed up by name, and she wasn’t responding to any of your messages or calls. You were tempted to drive up to the school. You sigh, and close up shop, keys in hand. 

“No, Yaya, wait!” You see her running down the street with Damian in tow, and someone else. You squint your eyes at the man behind the children, and you realize it’s Dick Grayson. You feel your jaw drop and you open the door for the three of them. 

Dick gives you an apologetic smile and Damian just looks at Ria. Once all four of you are in the coffee shop you put your hand on your hips. “Now Ria. We will be speaking about this later.” 

She looks away, embarrassed, “Yes, Yaya.” It serves her right to be embarrassed, she scared the crap out of you! You exhale and pat her head. 

You look at the other two and forcefully smile. “Thank you for bringing her to me, I was starting to worry.” 

Dick gives a charming smile, and you think you feel your heart beat out of your chest. “It was no problem. Rianna wanted to bring Damian here, but I didn’t want them to be alone in the dark.” 

Damian crosses his arms, “Tt, it would have been no issue, Grayson. I could have properly taken care of myself and Ria.” How stoic, you think. And you snort, bringing the attention back to you. 

“Well, I appreciate it. If y'all want I can make you something to drink? It is a coffee shop.” You go behind the bar and stand, waiting for them to answer. You glance at Ria, and she nods. 

“Can you make me a caramel Frappuccino with whip cream, Yaya?” You start the machine and look at the other two. Damian sits beside Ria, but Dick continues to stand leaning on the counter, smiling. You can’t tell if he’s going to flirt with you or not. 

“You two?”

“Black coffee.” Damian declares, and you glance at the kid. This dude is weird. 

“I’ll take what Rianna is having, please. Thank you, beautiful.” You feel yourself go warm and look away from the three in embarrassment. By the time their coffees are ready, Ria is yapping about God knows what. You’d pay more attention if you didn’t feel the occasional look from Mr.Charming over there. 

Somehow, the two kids end up seats away, and it’s just you and Dick. You side-eye Ria, you know this is her doing. You feel the need to thank him once more, so you do. “Again, thank you. I was starting to get worried about her.” 

His face softens and his smile is reassuring. “I get it. I’m the same way with Dami, but uh. I was wondering if I could get your number.” Your face must look shocked because he stumbles on his words. “I mean, the two seem to like each other a lot, so! I thought it’d be good to have each other’s numbers, so this doesn’t happen again.” 

It does make sense to have his number. If they were to frequent your shop often after school, or if they wanted to hang out, it was good to know where they were or who they were with. “Um, yeah, no that makes sense. Here.” You slide him your phone and he types in your contact. 

“Do you need a ride home?” You ask the man. He was running here after all. 

He looks sheepish, but nods. “Yeah. The person who usually picks us up is taking the day off.” Damn, he has a personal driver and everything. No shame, you think.

“Alright, just make sure to give me your address.” You grab your phone and wallet. “Ria, Damian, I’ll be taking you and your brother home, so c’mon.” You go to open the door, but Dick does it for you, and his smile makes you glance away nervously. You couldn’t wait to tell Sasha about this.