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iiraven · 3 years

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Fool-Proof Plan

Pairing: Erwin x reader

Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU

Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play

Word count: 4.6K

Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.

Masterlist

Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.

There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.

“So, you just take pictures?”

“Yes.”

“And people respond to it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright but why?”

The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.

It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.

“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”

“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll call you every day.”

It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable.

Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.

“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.

Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.

Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.

Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.

It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.

This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.

One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”

“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”

So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.

But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.

The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.

Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.

You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.

You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.

Something stops that from happening.

Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.

Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears.

Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.

After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.

Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.

You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.

Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”

You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.

“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.

“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”

The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.

“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.

Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.

He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.

You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”

Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer.

“Oh?”

Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.

“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.

“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”

“I-I mean...yeah…”

“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”

He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.

“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”

You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.

“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.

“Good girl.”

Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt.

“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.

Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.

“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”

“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.

As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.

“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”

You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.

“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”

Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.

Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.

“Erwin wai-“

And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.

“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.

He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.

You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.

He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.

The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.

“I missed you too.”

Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.

“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”

He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”

Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”

Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”

His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”

He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily.

It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.

“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.

When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.

His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”

The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.

Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.

Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.

“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”

He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”

“No- you have a degradation kink.”

“Yes, that too.”

Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”

Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.

“It’s not?”

“No!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice?”

“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”

“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”

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sorryimanon · 4 years

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Character: Katsuki Bakugou

Warnings: so much fluff and a bit of spice

In which you and bakugou witness your child’s quirk for the first time

Early mornings were the best in your opinion. The warmth of the blankets hugging every inch of your cold body, the sound of cars zipping by outside the cracked window, and the familiar wandering hands that belong to none other than your boyfriend. It’s quite a sight, seeing Katsuki all vulnerable with his head angled just right into the base of the pillow, a pool of drool collecting on it. Usually he’s an early bird, waking up before you to cram in a quick workout then head off making breakfast in the kitchen. However, the routine switched up when a little bundle of joy enterd both of your lives.

Everyone, including you, was surprised you managed to settle Katsuki down let alone have him become a domesticated father. Of course it scared the living shit out of you. Sex with Bakugou was amazing, tenfold even, but one night both of you made an irrational decision to not use protection while being intimate, resulting in you heaving yourself over the toilet the following weekend.

“Stomach flu, right?” Katsuki reasoned anxiously.

“Right.” You reassured him with a crooked smile.

Nine months later you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. To say you were happy was an understatement. Hell, everything you ever wanted landed graciously on your lap like a silver plater. Even though you and Katsuki weren’t planning having kids for a long time, the moment when your daughter finally arrived, it’s like both of y’all knew she came into your lives at the right time.

Now she lays crushed between Katsukis chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her as though something were to have grabbed her in the middle of the night. Their breathing synchronized each time they inhaled and exhaled. For a second, you admire the two figures in front of you. She sure inherited the looks from your boyfriend. Same blonde hair, toothy grin, and crimson eyes. At least she had more of your personality and mannerisms. Although occasionally her sudden outbursts reminded you of Katsuki when he was a teenager.

Your daughters head was in a awkward 45 degree angle, making her blonde hair cover half of her face. Instinctively, you reached over and brushed aside the tangled mess, making her squirm in place at the sudden touch. She opened her eyes finally and obnoxiously yawned, stretching out her small arms. One of her arms accidentally whacked Katsuki in the face during the process.

“Ugh you fucking gremlin...” Katsuki mumbles, playfully swatting his daughters hand away from his face. Your daughter eventually unlatched herself from his arms and began to jump up and down in the space between you and your grumpy looking boyfriend.

“Daddy’s up! It’s time for breakfast!” Your daughter joyfully proclaimed while bouncing around on the king sized bed.

“No it’s not.” He swept his feet that weren’t covered by the devet under hers, causing her to land softly against the bed. You knew she enjoyed the harsh playfulness when you heard her cries of laughter. You giggled and looked over at Katsuki, who at the moment had a temporary scowl across his face.

“Squirt you know the rules. Get yourself cleaned up and then we’ll start making breakfast,” you promised her.

Her eyes lit up at that moment like it was Christmas morning and hoisted herself off the large bed. She closed the door behind her, like you taught her, and scurried off to the shared bathroom. You wanted to have a moment of peace before she comes barging in again. Closing your eyes, you hummed in satisfaction and snuggled more into your pillow. Across from you, Katsuki had other plans in mind. He closed the space between you and laid his hand on the base of your waist, the other bunching up your shirt. Wanting to feel your skin, he slipped his hand under your shirt and rubbed circles around your abdomen. The coldness that clung to your skin immediately warmed up by his gentle touch. The sensation dragged a familiar sensual feeling down your body. A feeling that you haven’t felt in a while. Opening your eyes to where they’re just tiny slits, you can make out Katsuki staring right back at you.

“I know you’re still awake dumbass,” he softly spoke, his breath fanning the crook of your neck. So close he took the opportunity and started kissing the sensitive area. His tongue darted out, licking a small strip in the crevice. You didn’t need a third party to know a bruise was already forming.

“K-Katsuki. Not right now. Our d-daughter is just down the hall from us,” you manage to croak out as he attacked your neck with love bites. Oh how you missed these small little interactions with him. You knew they resorted to adultry, but anything involving foreplay with Katsuki excited you.

He sucked and bit some more of your supple flesh, causing you to ripple out a soft moan.

“Oh baby, how I missed your fucking moans.”

His morning voice mixed in with his already deep brooding one made you even wetter by the minute.

Soon the hand that was rubbing circles around your stomach extended to your breast, grabbing it playfully in tune to his tongue massage on your neck. Katsuki flicked his thumb over your perky nipple, giving it much desired attention. You parted your mouth slightly at the action, letting him latch his lips onto yours. Thankfully your moans were muffled, or else your daughter would’ve heard.

To return the favor, you carelessly grope Katsukis member through his boxers, earning a groan from him within your mouth.

“Fuck baby. You almost made me...cum by just... doing that,” he said in between sloppy kisses.

Without breaking the kiss, you shifted yourself on top of him, straddling his waist with your bare legs on display. His hand left your breast and replaced itself onto your hip, massaging the skin that was exposed. You removed your mouth from his, catching some air you forgot existed until he meshed into you. The two of you were a panting mess.

“It has been awhile, hasn’t it?” You whispered into his ear.

If looks could melt, his infamous smirk would. “Quickie? Before the brat ruins the fun.”

You huffed and pinched his cheek to the point where the flesh turned red.

“Ow fuck! Okay shitty woman. I take back what I said.” He smacked your ass as revenge and kissed the corner of your mouth. “For later then.”

You triumphantly smirk and peck his lips for good measure. Despite being cold turkey from sex, you knew punishing him by having him wait was the best part. You pushed yourself off him and rejoiced to the warm feeling of his chest. Defeated, Katsuki begrudgingly snaked his arms around you, kissing the crown of your forehead. He had to admit, he’d rather enjoy your body next to his than underneath all sweaty with lust. Don’t be fooled, he loves that too.

“What’s taking that brat so long-“

A loud beep startled both you and Katsuki to sit up straight in bed. It was your fire alarm. An alarm that hasn’t gone off since when you first moved in. Katsuki activated his quirk by accident one time in the kitchen, emitting the same annoying blast of noise this morning.

Leaving the bed in shambles, you both hurried out the door in search for your daughter. A foul scent of smoke and ash was wafting through the air. What you weren’t expecting was for the living room and kitchen to be perfectly pristine of any flames or smoke. You checked the perimeter of the area a second time to make sure you weren’t going crazy. Nothing. Maybe the fire alarm was glitching out? You were pull out of your daze when Katsuki slipped on his own feet coming out from the long hallway.

“I think I found out where the smoke is coming from,” he said breathlessly.

He dragged you along with him to your daughters room. Scared and confused, you turn the nob and slowly open the door. There sat your daughter, in the middle of the room laughing hysterically at something. She then noticed you two standing there and smiled widely. Gosh, she looked so much like her father there.

“Mommy daddy, look what I can do!” She said before plugging her nose and lighting herself on fire.

You’d think, this image would scare you, but no. You stared at awe towards your inflamed daughter, basking in at how the flames protected her body and moved with her. It finally came the day where your child’s quirk manifested. She was basically a lone torch. Katsuki mirrored the same emotions you were feeling as well. Your daughter extinguished herself and trailed over to where you both stood. She hugged your lovers leg, cranking her head to where they can directly look at each other.

“Does this mean I can be like you daddy? I can be a future hero just like you?”

Katsuki couldn’t help but to chuckle and bend down to grab her and place her on his hip.

“Just don’t be hanging out with extras when you’re older kiddo.” He reached around and started tickling her aggressively on the sides.

“I promise d-dad n-no stupid extras!” Her laugh with the combination of Katsukis childish taunts was like music to your ears.

And that wasn’t the last of the rude awakening mornings. Nevertheless, you cherished them more now than ever.

(Might be a reoccurring story bc I love daddy katsuki with a torch daughter)

#katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha smut #katsuki fluff #bakugou fluff #fluff #dad!baku

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joaquinwhorres · 3 years

Text

Blank Out (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names–amends he needs to make. When he gets to yours, he finds the amends process a bit more…difficult than it should be.

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. This is the Y/N version of my OC fic. Exactly the same but for people who prefer Y/N. Lemme know if you want to join the tag list!

Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it.

He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier.

But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy.

Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.

Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order.

Easy would be breaking the damn rules.

The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it?

He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head.

Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday.

He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert.

"Hello?"

Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head.

"Can I help you?"

Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time.

"I'm looking for Y/N Y/L/N."

"You found her."

He blanched. "You're Y/N Y/L/N?"

The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, Y/N’s come in all shapes, sizes, and colors."

Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now.

"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest.

No.

Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite.

He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"

"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "You're the Bucky Barnes?"

He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah."

"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants."

His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.

His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."

She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking her head. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."

He shook his head. "I can wait out here."

She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."

"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.

He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head.

The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"

"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.

"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."

"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"

"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Y/N's voice called from elsewhere.

Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide.

"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed.

He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile.

"What happened to your hair?"

"Got a haircut," he shrugged.

She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."

"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try.

A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise." He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look.

"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.

She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.

Y/N reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."

"She's cute."

What an idiotic thing to say.

"Wish I could take credit," Y/N said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."

There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates.

"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Y/N in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear.

This was the arm of a protector.

She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow."

"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Y/N started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl, but Bucky stopped her.

"You got a marker?"

"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Y/N alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers.

Y/N turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"

"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."

The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head.

"She'll be here around three."

He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.

Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name.

"Rocio," Y/N prodded, gently.

"Thank you!" she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"

He liked her.

"That was really kind of you," Y/N said, warmly. "I think you just made her year."

He shrugged.

"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Y/N sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Lilly will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"I'll be back then."

"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then."

He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.

So much for getting easier.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #tfatws #fatws #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #falcon and winter soldier #bucky barnes reader insert #post-end game #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel #avengers #marvel fic #avengers fic

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floralseokjin · 4 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year.

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car.

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot.

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably.

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am.

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out.

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason.

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger.

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–”

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.”

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car.

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.

“What happened?” You asked hotly.

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it.

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you.

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.”

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again.

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...”

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age.

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you!

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.”

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken.

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.”

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

“No?”

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.”

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money.

“But I did this.”

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom.

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat.

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…”

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time.

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements –

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you.

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?”

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous.

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.”

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.”

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…”

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…”

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today.

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised.

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment.

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.”

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.”

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?”

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?”

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell?

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.”

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too. Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.”

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.”

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…”

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people.

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…”

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.”

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here?

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.”

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?”

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.”

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody.

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.”

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?”

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.”

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.”

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?”

“Not too far, Miss.”

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.”

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be.

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house.

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.”

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.”

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week.

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible.

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by.

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater.

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet…

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September.

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father.

“Oh, hello again.”

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden?

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk.

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.”

“What?”

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?”

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe.

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.”

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it.

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then.

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened.

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say.

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve.

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope.

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug.

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?”

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now.

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.”

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.”

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you.

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too.

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course.

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny.

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.”

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in.

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.”

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!”

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.”

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.”

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical.

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too.

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover…

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself.

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask.

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you.

“I really am sorry about that.”

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?”

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…”

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious.

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.”

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.”

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him?

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly.

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again.

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.”

“Kid?”

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured.

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised.

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.”

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.”

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know.

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled.

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically.

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew.

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested.

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.”

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark…

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it.

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.”

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.”

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.”

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.”

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise.

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you.

“You were definitely flirting back.”

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.”

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing.

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?”

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully.

“Find out tomorrow.”

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.”

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.”

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.”

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!”

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now?

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months.

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant.

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it.

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?!

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you.

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…”

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near.

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed.

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point.

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.”

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave?

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside.

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here…

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home.

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like.

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out.

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.”

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever.

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name.

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave.

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted.

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.”

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?”

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?”

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.”

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.”

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower. You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say.

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head.

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he?

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.”

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.”

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone.

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.”

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that?

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you.

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?”

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.”

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant.

“No.” So was he.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face.

“Tell me!”

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you.

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.”

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?”

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?”

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?”

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.”

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money.

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.)

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.”

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.”

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.”

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded.

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too.

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine.

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?”

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude.

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay?

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself.

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible.

What the hell was wrong with you?!

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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sugokawata · 3 years

Note

Babe ik we're loving shinichiros voice and whateva but i need to get this out of my chest rn😕 can i request that instead of shinichiro getting killed it was his s/o instead?? Like we heard something from his shop and decided to check it out just to get whacked up the head, the reader can be any pronouns you want😩 thx sweetheart😁😻

• Shinichiro Sano

Genre: Scenario, fluff to angst.

Warnings: character dying, angst, smoking.

Request: Yes

Note: Hello anon-chan, thank you so much for you support, I really appreciate it !❤ I am crying until now

Masterlist

It was a calm and quiet night, and all you could hear was the sound of the fan in the small room where you and Shinichiro were. The two of you were on the couch, Shinichiro was sitting there smoking his cigarette while you lay there playing with your cell phone with your legs over his lap.

You looked away from your cell phone, staring at him who seemed lost in thought. You squirmed on the couch, ending up sitting up.

"Mikey's birthday is near." You spoke in a low tone but with a warm smile on your face and you heard your boyfriend give a small laugh.

"Yeah. I can't wait to give him that motorcycle." Shinichiro put out his cigarette in the ashtray he had in the center of the table in front of the couch and quickly leaned back on the couch again.

"I want to see his face when he gets that as a gift." You moved closer for another kiss, but pulled away quickly when you heard a noise that sounded like it was coming from the front of the store. Shinichiro looked at you confused by the sudden withdrawal.

"What's wrong?"

"Did you hear something?" You mumbled and he denied with his head, still confused. "I'll go check it out." You stood up and left the small room, walking to the front of the store where you noticed a small figure that looked about the size of a child. "Who's there?"

The person turned back quickly and you just looked at him with a serene expression on your face.

"S-S/O-san?!" Your eyes widened as you heard a familiar voice. "W-what are you doing here?"

"You are... Baji? Mikey's friend?" you took a step forward, which made the boy take a step back. "Why are you in Shinichiro's store? Are you trying to steal it?" And again you took a step. "Are you alone?"

You could see the boy's despair in his eyes and you took a deep breath trying to find a way for him to calm down, so you just gave him a warm smile as you approached him.

"Baji, it's all-" Rushing footsteps echoed in the room, making you look back startled.

"Stop Kazutora!"

The boy whirled with the pliers and hit your forehead hard, causing you to lose your coincience. Baji looked at that traumatized, he let go of the bike as he ran towards you.

"What have you done, Kazutora?!" The other boy looked at his friend confused by that question.

"I had to do it! She would report us!"

"That's not what I'm talking about! She... she's Mikey's older brother's girlfriend!" Kazutora's breathing became uneven and as guilt filled inside him. He mumbled things quietly to himself while Baji just yelled your name.

"S/O-san! S/O-san!"

"What the hell is going on in my store?" Shinichiro spoke as he walked towards where the scene was happening. His eyes widened as he saw you lying on the ground with a small puddle of blood. Shinichiro just ran towards you, ignoring the boys who were present there. "S/O!"

"S-Shinichiro-kun, she's not breath-"

"Call the ambulance!" He yelled and Baji just ran grabbing the phone and typing in the numbers. Meanwhile Shinichiro lifted you up leaning against him unconcerned about the blood staining his shirt. "Babe, you'll be fine."

Lie.

"We'll get you to the hospital and you'll be fine in no time."

Another lie.

He knew that wasn't going to happen, because the moment he touched your body, it had already lost its warmth.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #shinichiro x reader

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movedtodykedvonte · 3 years

Note

In one of your previous ask, I believe there was a mention of how Ethan feels the mental and emotional toll that it takes on him while he's in the position as Father Fungus. How would the Lords (including Lady D's daughters) react when Ethan just snaps after the stress has accumulated to the point where it becomes unbearable and he reaches his breaking point?

I doubt Ethan would break down in front of them. It is bad for everyone if they tried to blame it on one thing or even each other and he'd be aware of that. Ethan would excuse himself and then go off to cool down. However, there still is the chance he'd get caught...

"Why'd you call us all here, Alcina?"

"Yeah, what's the deal bringing us back here, super-sized?" Karl pushed past Donna on his way into the church, barely missing hitting Moreau when he dropped rested his hammer on the ground. Alcina scowled at his careless display but could understand the hostility.

The church had been a place marked as Mother Miranda's. If you entered there you were giving yourself up to her as a child, as a follower, as a living being. None of them, to her knowledge, had entered since she had been vanquished and, to her knowledge, they certainly did not want to ever again. Too many lies had been told here to them, too many bad memories made... Yet, she had brought them back. Composing herself she flattened her dress as she stood from her old chair, clearing her throat.

"I called you here," She narrowed her eyes at Karl, " because some troubling information has been brought to my attention by my girls."

"Well? Spit it out tall ass." Karl, eager to leave, demanded she cut to the chase.

"Don't be mean, Heisenberg..."

"Can it freak."

"Silence!" Alcina spoke sharply, patience wearing thin as Karl extended all of their times in the church. "If you had let me finish, I was going to inform you all that..." She stopped for a moment, as if unsure what she had brought them all together for was even correct. "That... one of my girls found Father Winters weeping outside my abode." The other lords stood quietly unsure of how to react.

Father Winters was weeping? Why? What for? He had gotten his child back, they were all safe and relatively happy. What could possibly trigger an action such as woeful and intense as weeping to occur in their dearest Father?

"Who did it?" Karl's impatient attitude faded, a one of a calm fury taking place. He picked his hammer back up, holding it as if ready to swing. "Winters-"

"Father Winters." Moreau corrected, shrinking back when Karl gave him a quick annoyed look.

"Father Winters," He stressed the word, rolling his eyes at how it appeased Moreau. "Has been through hell and back without shedding a tear. Whoever caused this, isn't going to cause it ever again."

"Yeah! Let's tear them to shreds!" Angie toddled on the ground, giggling and acting out ripping motions as Donna tied to reel her in.

Alcina shook her head, the sudden liveliness not what she wanted from a meeting such as this. "It isn't that simple, Heisenberg." She let out a huff, wishing she had a cigarette with her. "Less you plan on killing all of us... and yourself." The last part was said pointedly, a hopeful pitch to it.

"We've upset Father Winters?" Moreau sounded devastated, shaking his head as if he could shake the sentence from his memory. "What have we done? What can we do?"

"This is a mistake." Donna sat down as is faint, Angie coming to her side to comfort her.

"Your girls got this wrong, tall-ass." He took a step towards Alcina with the hammer, threatening to a person not as equally capable. "We ain't do shit to him."

"We ask a lot of him, don't we?" Alcina put her hands on her hips, glowering down at Karl. "My girls said most of what he said was incoherent, the wind and the doors made it difficult to hear."

"That's helpful..." Angie spoke calmly and irritably, the rest of the room momentarily stunned at the unusual display.

"It isn't... but what they did hear is his doubts."

"About?" Moreau shuffled closer, both to hear and see Alcina's expressions better.

Her looked turned dejected, almost as if she was a child told they were a disappointment by parents, which is effectively how she took it. "Us. If we are truly progressing, if we are ever going to be free of the confines of this village..." She looked as if she was leaving something out, but that is all she was willing to speak of.

"So, you're saying he's worried he's failing us?" Karl rested his hammer again, leaning on it, relaxed, as if listening to a boring story, "Please, I know you whack jobs call him father and stuff, but we aren't his kids!" Karl sounded jovial as if the problem at hand was a punchline he just got. The rest of the group's faces stayed grim. "We're fine."

"Father doesn't know that." Moreau's voice sounded serious, stern, and for once threatening towards his fellow lord. Karl went to protest before the silent nod of Donna and the agreeing hum of Alcina quieted him. He was outnumbered

"Exactly the issue I wanted to discuss." The tallest lord sat back down, attempting to look regal despite the vague focus in her eyes. Karl took note but opted to stay quiet. "We ask too much of him, too often."

"Nuh-uh, Father Ethan offers to play with me and Donna!" Angie seemed indignant, her games were not a forced activity, they were fun.

"Or does he feel the need to?" Angie looked up at Donna, this had been the most she spoke in a while. Her words resonated with the rest of the lords.

Did Ethan offer his time, his patience, his kindness, out of the good of his heart or did they force him? They had never called him to their residences, it had always been a choice on his part. Yet, they rarely gave him a choice when they would show up to his unannounced. He was always willing to participate in an activity of their liking, but when had they done the same? They did not ask for much, no, they took too often. Did he, for whatever reason, feel he had to let them? The ideas swarmed in the lords' heads.

"What should we do then, Lady." Alcina did not know if she preferred the vulgarity of Karl over when he disrespected her title. She would need a drink after this.

"We are overbearing him correct?" Silent nods filled the room. "He cannot handle giving so much of himself to us without reaching points like this. So we take less."

"And by that you mean?"

"Let him know we are fine and capable without his supervision. Shoo him off if you have to, but let him know we are doing well." Alcina leaned back in her chair, looking to where Mother Miranda would have been standing in moments like this. "Give him a break."

"That is doable!" Angie bounced on Donna's lap as if the idea was a challenge issued to her. "We'll be the best at not needing to be checked on! Like, hide n seek but with responsibility!"

Moreau nodded eagerly, being alone a little more often was no issue to him, especially since he had just gotten a few more movies to occupy his time with. Karl kept his gaze on Alcina, the latter still trained on the spot Miranda would stand.

"That settles it." Alcina began fixing her dress again, a content look unfolding upon her features as did the rest of the lords.

They would make sure they were not a burden to their father anymore...

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creative-lampd-liberties · 3 years

Note

"You're not small. You wouldn't understand" and “I may be small but I am mighty.” with Janus please ?

... I may be projecting...

I was going thru my stuff and I realized that I finished this but never posted it. Apologies for the delay @zozomind I hope you like it. I think you might have been asking for angst but it turned into drlamp snuggle time.

...as a small person, I may also have projected a bit 😅😅

☆☆☆

Janus was already in full rant mode as they came into the living room. "I don't know how to explain to you that *I* am the *correct* height. *You* are just unfortunately tall. Both of you."

Roman, hot on his heels, rolled his eyes "I'm only five inches larger than you!" Remus giggled and Roman shot him a pained grimace.

Janus sniffed imperiously. " You're not small, you wouldn't understand."

"I could make him shorter, if you want," Remus offered, summoning a meat cleaver.

"Do not." Roman growled and snatched it from him, vanishing it. Remus crossed his arms and made a face, pointedly pouting.

Janus grinned, wide and sharp. "Now Roman, There's always room for improvement."

Letting out a huff, Roman threw his hands up in the air. "I'm not that tall! *You're* not that short!"

It was Janus’s turn to roll his eyes. "I'm not short, obviously, I'm small. Perfectly packaged." He waved dismissively at Roman. "But you are entirely too tall."

Remus perked up again. "Oh! or I could make *you* taller. Stretch your bones?"

Janus smiled blandly at him."You know what will happen if you try."

Roman groaned loudly "You're both being ridiculous. Patton back me up here?"

Patton blinked up at him from where he and Virgil were piecing together a puzzle on the coffee table. "Sure thing, kiddo. What about?"

Janus jumped in before Roman could start. "I was just explaining to Roman that being small is not a disadvantage. That it is, in fact, the better lifestyle."

"Oh. Well in that case I hate to disappoint Roman, but I agree with Janus." Patton said.. Virgil snorted, which made Patton chuckle behind his hand. Roman gaped at both of them, spluttering.

Janus beamed at him, smug. "Of course you do. Being the appropriate height makes you smarter than all these freakishly gangly giants "

Patton shook a finger at him, trying and failing to school his expression into disapproval. "Now Janus, that's not nice. They can't help that they're not fun size like us!"

Logan, who had been watching the exchange over his book, frowned. "I'm not sure I'm understanding this argument. Are you suggesting there is a moral correlation to height?"

"No, of course not!" Patton assured, at the same time as Janus said, "Yes. Absolutely."

Logan set his book down, shifting firmly into lecture mode. "That's ridiculous. Height has no basis on personality."

"Well…" Roman hedged.

"And certainly no moral value whatsoever."

"Your mom's ridiculous and has no moral value whatsoever." Remus chirped. Roman whacked him on the shoulder. "What?" he whined.

Janus favored Logan with his least impressed look. "You're not small, you wouldn't understand. But then… you're not tall either are you?"

"I am a perfectly respectable height." Logan protested. "It's the national average."

Janus nodded sympathetically. "Exactly. It's *average*. Shrink, then perhaps we can be friends."

This took Logan aback, face twisting uncertainly. "But we're already… aren't we already friends?"

Patton tutted, actually managing to glare a bit in Janus's direction. "Of course you are sweetie." He clamored up to pat Logan comfortingly on the shoulder. "We're all friends. Janus is just being silly."

"Traitor." Janus hissed.

Virgil gave up on the puzzle. Smirking, he climbed to his feet and snatched Janus's hat from his head. He held it just out of reach. "Is that your evil plot for today then? To confuse and antagonize poor Logan?"

Janus scowled at him. "You're lucky I don't bite you." He hissed.

"Was that supposed to be a threat?" Virgil grinned wider, and set the hat on his own head, still firmly out of reach. "It's adorable that you act like you're not itty-bitty. But you are, you're tiny, like a kitten."

Janus growled. "And you sound like someone who's *asking* to be bitten."

Virgil huffed a laugh. "Eh, I wasn't that fond of my ankles anyway."

"Careful." Janus's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I may be *small* but I am mighty."

A calculated look crept into Virgil's amused expression. "Uh huh. Sure, kitten. Y'know though, you are the perfect height…" he said, tone light

"Damn right, I am!"

"-for me to do this!"

Janus hissed and spat as Virgil scooped him bodily off or the floor, swatting ineffectually at his head. "Put me down this instant!" he growled.

Virgil just turned to Remus, who was already cackling, and the two of them squished him between them. They planted matching kisses on each cheek as Janus squirmed, laughing when he flushed all the way to the tips of his ears and stilled, letting out a noise like a startled tea kettle.

Roman was watching with unabashed delight. "Why didn't I think of that. Patton, c'mere."

Patton all but lept into his arms, giggling. "Oh no! I'm caught!" He accepted his cheek kiss with magnanimity.

Roman carted him over to the group hug, Patton squirming his way into the center with Janus. "Hi." He whispered, beaming. Janus blinked at him like a startled deer.

They were only missing one side now. Remus was craning his neck to eye the couch. "You too, geek chic. Join the orgy!"

"Must I?" Logan wrinkled his nose, but when Virgil made grabby hands he went easily enough. They pulled him into the circle.

Once they had him, the cheek kisses began in full force. Everyone got a fair share. Patton squealed and giggled and planted retaliatory kisses on his "attackers". Logan endured them with a stoic sigh and a small blush. But Janus resumed his squirming in force.

"Look, he's blushing!" Roman teased, punctuating it with another kiss.

"I am *not*!

"So cute!" This was Patton, and Janus managed to flush even brighter. Especially when Logan leaned in to kiss his forehead.

A petulant whine crept into his voice. "This is undignified. You're squishing me."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "It's called affection, Jan. It won't actually kill you."

Patton bit his lip to contain his amusement. He gently squeezed one gloved hand in his own. "You get used to it eventually. Let's me know I'm loved."

Janus groaned dramatically. "Fine. I'll submit to your so called *affection*. Just remember, I know where all of you sleep."

☆☆☆

#replies #drlamp #platonic drlamp #readers choice #its struggle snuggle time #small is the correct size #a necessary amount of deceit love #my fic #tss fic

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kekoma · 4 years

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— nishinoya as your boyfriend.

alexa play short kings anthem by tmg. hope you enjoy.

blink blink. wow yeah okay.. many many thoughts with yuu. maybe too many.

just gonna say— before the relationship even started, he chased after you.

the team found it surprising since he really left the kiyoko simp club. no one really saw it coming but they were supporting.

def vents to tanaka about how cute you are and everything.

he’s truly that whipped for you.

gonna slip in that he isn’t that shy around you if he knows but it you’re someone completely new and he met you through one of the teammates or even kiyoko then his shyness will most likely amplify.

can’t convince me that noya DIDN’T try flirting with you by using the tricks and tips he learned from tanaka.

just won’t happen. he definitely threw in the “marry me!” line and you just had to blink twice to process the whole situation before telling him “no.”

was he heartbroken that day? yeah. but did he try again the next week? yeah he did with no shame we’ll never know.

anyways... we’ve all seen the way he acts towards kiyoko, yeah? now all that treatment solely goes to you.

and because of, mans has probably growled and gave one of the deadliest glares at one of your peers all because they had the nerves to tell their friends how cute you were and they planned on asking you for your number.

let’s just say that peer started avoiding you all because they feared yuu would probably beat them up.

now when you two start going out, his protectiveness amps.

especially when he invites you to his games and the one of the teammates from the opponent side decides they want to try their luck with you.

“i think i’m gonna go over and talk to her. wish me luck!” the guy would say while nudging his friend.

but before he could even take one step, noya is already giving him a strange look and mumbling about how you’re off limits.

sometimes he may go a little overboard so give him a small kiss on the cheek or whack on the head— all up to you babes.

something i personally want to add and firmly believe.. you two probably have a snap streak together.

can’t tell me i’m wrong because i won’t stand for it.

the score is probably sitting at 1,287 or higher but just know it’s there.

if you so happened to lose it one day or night then prepare yourself.

“Y/N!! OUR STREAKS! IT’S GONE!”

“i know i know and i’m sorry babe.”

“do you... do you even love me anymore?”

“of course i do! how couldn’t i love you?!”

he’s a bit dramatic.

in the end, he finds a way of getting the score back while mumbling how much he’s ‘living in Spain but without the s’ and etc.

all good though. he def gets over it but you now have no choice but to remember it and keep it going.

side fact; he won’t accpet black screens from you either. the picture has to have your face in it because he loves admiring your beauty.

even screenshots some of them too.

moving on— the whole relationship is goofy and extremely loving but there are some days where he isn’t 100% that.

won’t get too much into it but just know, he’s gonna need you to be there for him and snap him out of his moods (if it’s possible)

anyways, yuu is THE definition of affectionate puppy too.

there’s not a day that goes by when he doesn’t remind you about how much he loves you and uses pda in a way to remind.

also he invites you to all his games and in return, if you’re in any sports or musically talented then he shows up to those events.

even brings snacks or/and a few flowers while telling you how amazing you were (he would cook but umm... mans isn’t skilled enough for that yet so snacks will have to do)

overall very supportive of everything you do and makes time to show up to any events— even if you don’t tell him.

speaking of pda from earlier, let’s get into it.

in public— he’s HUGE on pda.

can literally go from slight brushes against each other skins, such as his hand brushing against yours, to dead on holding you.

doesn’t care if he gets clowned on for it— you’re his and that’s all that matters.

but if you aren’t a huge fan about public pda for some reason then tell him. yuu is quick to stop and work around it so you’re comfortable too.

vvv respectful and we stan that.

noya’s top favorite pda with you though is 🥁🥁🥁 hand holding. yeah yeah it’s basic but the action alone lets everyone know you’re his baby and that’s what matters.

now when you two are alone.. that’s a different story.

might be a little more touchy and definitely likes to kiss you more.

loves.. let me say it again, LOVES cuddling with you for sure.

vv versatile too. he doesn’t mind being little spoon if you requested it and if you’re in a bad mood then he won’t mind being the big spoon and comforting you.

truly just depends on the day and mood.

something to point out since mood was mentioned, yuu knows exactly how to comfort you well with his words and it’s a little surprising sometimes.

he likes knowing he has the ability to cheer you up but if you’re someone who wants to be left alone sometimes then noya lets you be for few before coming back and asking if you want to cuddle, talk or do something.

vvv sweet. almost teeth rotting sweet.

but cuddles is must with him. don’t argue with me about it.

side note; if you two have a size difference.. he doesn’t care. actually likes it since he knows he can bury his face into your chest whenever you two cuddle. you don’t even have to have big boobs either— just let him rest there and he won’t complain.

that’s the ultimate dream right there for him. would happily sleep there any time and day.

hmm nicknames? nicknames.

this part is gonna be a bit short because yuu is built differently.

for sure he calls you babe and baby but occasionally he’ll come up with the most weirdest pet names (like how he created the name ‘rolling thunder’) for you.

sometimes it just leaves you wondering how you’ve managed to come this far with him but we’ll never know.

again, something short so now we’re on to dates.

off the rip, study dates are on there.

“come on babe! we could go on better dates than this...”

“yuu... your last test scores were below 70% and i’m just trying to help you pass so you can continue being apart of volleyball.”

“i know but can’t we—”

“if you can pack most of this down and answer 3 questions right, i’ll kiss you, maybe even cuddle and we can go out for ice cream too. although you’re paying.”

“say less.”

gotta keep this boy using his brain and he actually does better with grades now because of you.

besides that, most of the dates you’ve two gone on were; picnics, roller skating, watching the sunset, ice dream dates, and anything that fits both of your personalities (if that makes any sense)

def takes a bunch of polaroid pictures of you, keeps them in his phone case and wallet. can’t convince me he doesn’t.

also shows them off to tanaka and the team about how gorgeous you are too. just regular simp behavior.

side fact: yuu writes down whatever song played first during the dates you two go on and writes them on the white part of the polaroids.

also made a playlist for you that spells out a secret message if you pay close attention to the titles.

i’m gonna end this (before my brain short circuits)— dating nishinoya is fun. this short king deserves all the love in the world so BE THE ONE THAT GIVES IT TO HIM.

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snowstark · 3 years

Text

pay attention.

by @moodystark and @snowstark

Summary: Five times Bucky uses Tony’s credit card and one time Tony uses Bucky.

AO3 LINK

for @buckybarnesbingo

Ever since Bucky Barnes had moved into the tower, he couldn't help but notice Tony Stark. Of course, it was expected to see the man considering it was his tower after all, but there was something about him that made Bucky want to know more.

Maybe it was the way Tony Stark was the most sarcastic person Bucky had ever met, or how the man clearly had no self-preservation. Either way, Bucky was hooked and he had a plan to get Tony to pay attention to him, quite literally.

It all started when Clint taught Bucky how to play Mario Kart. The communal living space had a few different gaming consoles that they all shared and the Switch was no different. However, Bucky decided that he wanted his own so he could play other games. Of course, he wasn't about to spend his own money on something so expensive so he went to Tony.

Walking to the lab, Bucky opened the door, not even questioning it when JARVIS let him in. "Hey Stark, will you buy me a Nintendo Switch?" he called, making his presence known.

Tony didn’t even look up from his work, too focused on the holographic screen in front of him. “Mhm, yep, go for it, big guy,” he called back, then had the audacity to kick Bucky out of his lab.

Not the response Bucky was looking for.

A week later, Bucky was sitting in his room playing Animal Crossing on his brand new Nintendo Switch when the second idea came to him. Asking Tony for the Switch hadn't gotten him the attention he wanted so he figured he would have to ask for something even more expensive. He was sure this would work.

Saving the game, Bucky made his way to the living room where everyone was watching some TV show he wasn't interested in. "Hey Tony, do you think you could get me a first edition copy of The Hobbit? It's expensive though," he asked.

At Bucky's question, a whole group of heads looked at him, with Steve asking just how much a book could possibly cost.

"A hundred...thousand," Bucky replied, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, keeping his eyes on Tony to see his reaction.

Tony shrugged. "If it means a lot to you, Barnes, go for it. I wipe my ass with a hundred thousand."

End of discussion.

Tony didn't miss the way Bucky not-so-subtly stomped off to god knew where. In response, he called it a day and headed down to his lab.

He snapped his fingers, sliding a screen away from him, and said, "J?”

"Yes, sir?"

"If Barnes buys anything interesting... I want you to tell me." That was probably a breach of privacy, but whatever. The guy was swiping his card like it was his birthday, so it was warranted.

"Obliged, sir."

Bucky was happy with his copy of The Hobbit, don't get him wrong, but he was feeling defeated. If a hundred grand didn't get Tony's attention, what would?

Over the next few weeks, he came up with a couple of different ways to make Iron Man notice him. First, he started out by no longer asking Tony for permission. Obviously, the man had more money than he knew what to do with, so Bucky figured he wouldn't even notice if some of it went missing.

He did feel bad spending Tony's money recklessly, but the Harley he purchased was well worth it. Besides, Tony didn't even flinch when he told him that he had used his card to buy it.

The next time he used Tony's card, Bucky decided to get a bit weird. Like, purchase a life-size cut-out of Iron Man kind of weird. In his search for the cut-out, he also managed to stumble upon a bunch of merch, so he added two t-shirts, sweatpants, a pair of boxers, and some socks to his cart, all embroidered with Iron Man on them.

There was no way Tony wouldn't pay attention to that purchase or Bucky when he wore the items around the tower. Plus, the boxers made his ass look good.

Tony laughed when he saw what Bucky was wearing for the first time. He patted Bucky's shoulder. "If you wanted a signature, sweetcheeks, you could've just asked."

It was adorable, really, how Tony was turning a blind eye to all of Bucky's efforts.

And evidently, frustrating.

And maybe—just maybe—seeing that flash of yearning flit across Bucky's face was what kept Tony going.

After months of trying to get Tony's attention, Bucky decided to make one last purchase. If this one didn't work then it would be clear the man wasn't interested and he would leave him alone.

The purchase wasn't just any purchase though. Bucky had decided to look at spanking paddles, scrolling through multiple websites to find one he felt would get Tony's attention.

Finally, he came across one that was perfect.

An expensive red leather paddle with the word "Mine" engraved into the leather. It wasn't the kind of paddle where the words were marked into the skin with each spank, but Bucky figured the phrase alone was good enough.

All of the Stark Pads had Tony's bank account information attached and so, with no hesitation, he hit "purchase," not even bothering to ask JARVIS.

Tony had been alerted to his purchase immediately. He expected Bucky to buy a few interesting things but he hadn't expected this.

He had been working in the lab when JARVIS told him: "Sir, Mr. Barnes has made a purchase that I have deemed interesting."

"And what would that be, J?"

Tony grinned, expecting it to be something harmless like another book, but boy, was he wrong.

"It appears he has purchased a spanking paddle made of leather, Sir."

Tony's grin fell off of his face, a groan making its way out of his mouth. "A spanking paddle, really Barnes?" he wondered out loud.

"There's something else you should know, Sir. The paddle has the word "Mine" engraved into it."

Bucky Barnes was trying to kill him.

__________

For a few days, there was only radio silence from Tony, and certainly no sight of him. That was disappointing. Bucky had thought the last purchase would've earned him some well-deserved attention. And, well, he supposed there was no more to it now. If Tony had gotten the hint, he would've come to see him about his latest purchase for sure.

That was until Bucky came back to the Tower with a Starbucks drink in his hand to see Tony waiting for him.

Tony flashed him a grin. "Hey, soldier. Good walk?"

A mute nod from Bucky, but his heartbeat picked up.

Tony sauntered forward, hands clasped behind his back. He tilted his head, appraising the man in front of him for a few moments, then drew out the very paddle Bucky had ordered a few days ago from behind himself.

Bucky froze.

Tony smirked.

He looked down at the object in his hands, turning it over to expose the word MINE. "Very nice choice," he commented lightly. "You have good taste."

Sputtering, Bucky was silent for a moment before speaking. "Yeah well, didn't think you cared for it much," he grumbled. He felt like a child standing there in front of the man he had worked so hard to gain the affection of. So sue him if he was a little grumpy about the whole situation.

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, so now you're giving me an attitude?" He shook his head, chuckling. "Look, Barnes. What do you want from me, huh?" He flipped the paddle over in his hand, then stepped closer to Bucky, tilting his head. "I can't know if you don't tell me."

"It doesn't matter, Stark. It's obvious you aren't interested," Bucky replied, starting the walk toward the elevator that led up to the Avenger's floors.

“Like hell, it doesn't matter." Tony yanked Bucky back by his shoulder and held the paddle out. "Tell me what this says."

Bucky paused, staring down at the paddle even though he knew exactly what it said. "It says "Mine."

Tony leaned closer. "Now tell me what it means."

"I want to be yours, if you'll have me," Bucky spoke softly, swirling around the straw in his cup.

“I said, tell me what it means.” Tony stared Bucky down.

"It means I'm yours and I-I want you to spank me… Sir," Bucky stuttered, tacking on the last part.

"That's what I thought." Tony quirked a brow. "So then where the hell do you think you're going? I mean, you used my card to buy this, and you're not even gonna let me try it out? What a waste of money."

“Up to your room?” Bucky asked hopefully. He was beginning to think he had this all wrong and Tony was just mad that he had bought the paddle using his card.

Tony grinned, and it was shark-like and hungry. “Bingo.”

It took them about 0.5 seconds to make their way to Tony’s floor, and the moment they stepped out of the elevator, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed.

“Get over the arm of the couch,” he ordered, twirling the paddle in his hands. “Time to pay your debt, sweetcheeks.”

Bucky let out a laugh before following Tony's instructions, bending over the arm of the couch. He wasn't nervous about the man using the paddle on him—Bucky could handle pain. He was more excited than anything else, finally, he was getting the attention he had been craving.

"Greedy," Tony muttered under his breath, then slapped the paddle against his palm, making Bucky jump—which, good.

Bucky's lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise when Tony laid down a smack without warning, making heat bloom in his cheek.

Tony grinned. "What, you like that?"

"Wouldn't have bought it if I didn't like it, doll," he replied cheekily, feeling more secure of himself now that it was actually happening.

Tony paused. "What'd you just call me?"

Bucky frowned, turning his head to face Tony. "I'm sorry, do you not like that pet name? I won't call you it again."

Tony stared back at him, then said softly, “Wrong name, pal. I’m not doll. I’m Daddy.”

Bucky shivered at that.

Calling Tony Daddy? Yeah, he could do that.

"Yes, Daddy."

"There you go." Tony felt a rush of satisfaction at that, and he rewarded Bucky silently with a small whack of the paddle that he knew had to be louder than painful. "You know, it's not my first time paddling a brat."

"Not a brat," Bucky mumbled, blushing lightly.

“No?” Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and he landed another crack, hard enough for Bucky to really feel it this time. “That’s not why you bought ridiculously expensive items on my card, huh?” Crack. “Not why you tried to goad me into doing this.” Crack! “I mean, was it worth it? Are you pleased with yourself?”

"I-I'm sorry Daddy. I just wanted y-your attention," Bucky gasped, whining each time the paddle made contact with his backside. The description for the paddle had been accurate when it said it would sting.

"Yeah? Are you enjoying it now? Because you definitely have my full attention." Tony paused, then ordered, "Get your pants and boxers off. I wanna see how red your ass is."

Bucky made quick work pulling down his pants and boxers, letting out a little laugh when he realized he was wearing the Iron Man boxers. A little shiver went through his body once his ass was exposed to the cold air in the room.

Although Tony had gotten a few decent swats in, Bucky's cheeks were only slightly colored, his jeans taking the brunt of the spankings. If this was how it felt to get the man's attention, Bucky was more than happy to continue his antics.

"Brat," Tony muttered under his breath. He rested the paddle on Bucky's left ass cheek, then pinched his right one, hard. "You're not learning a single thing, are you?"

Bucky yelped at the pinch. "I don't know. Maybe you should spank me again just in case," he sassed, wiggling his ass teasingly.

"Maybe I should," Tony agreed. He brought the paddle down in a harsh swing, the crack echoing throughout the room. "Maybe I should paddle your ass red until you're crying and your voice is raw from begging me to stop. Maybe I should paddle you to make sure that you learn some fucking manners. Or maybe I shouldn't paddle you at all, because that would just be rewarding your bad behavior."

"W-Whatever you want, Daddy. I'll be good," Bucky promised, focusing on the warm heat radiating throughout his ass.

“I know,” Tony purred. “I know you are. Gotta pay me back somehow.” He paused and rested the paddle on Bucky’s ass. “You ever done this before, Barnes? I mean, don’t we need like, a... safeword, or something?”

“The 1930s were kinkier than people expect,” Bucky commented before pausing to think. “Safewords are important. Mine is Brooklyn. Have you ever done something like this?”

“Yup,” Tony said shortly. “We’ll both stick with Brooklyn. Easier that way.” With that discussion done, he brought the paddle back down. “I’m gonna paddle you until your ass is red and you’re crying your throat raw for forgiveness.”

Bucky wanted that more than anything. “Please, Daddy?” he whined, pushing his ass against the paddle.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Tony snarked. “And because you deserve it.”

That was the last thing he said before properly getting into it, kicking Bucky’s legs apart before widening his own stance.

Bringing the paddle down over and over again onto Bucky’s ass brought a loud crack that resonated throughout the entire room. He kept going until Bucky’s ass was red, and he didn’t miss the way his cock was starting to chub up.

He snorted and rested the paddle on Bucky’s ass. “Look at you, getting off on this. Who would’ve thought? The big, bad soldier, about to blow his load because he’s getting his ass beat.”

"Daddy," Bucky whimpered, digging his fingers into the couch. Not only did he have a thing for spanking but he had a thing for humiliation and degradation as well. The combination of the two was almost enough to send him over the edge, especially when it was Tony fulfilling his kinks.

Taking a deep breath, he worked to stave off his orgasm, not wanting to embarrass himself further by coming so quickly and untouched.

Unfortunately for Bucky, Tony quickly realized exactly what he was doing, and made it his goal to get Bucky off, because he said with a grin evident in his tone, “I bet you could even come untouched from this.”

He laughed when Bucky let out a small, low whimper, and crack went the paddle. “See? I knew it. God, you’re so fucking filthy, Barnes. Daddy’s gonna make you come, right fucking now.”

Bucky let out a loud moan at that, digging his fingers into the couch even harder as he pushed over the edge into the white-heat of orgasm. His cock twitching, releasing his load onto the side of the couch.

He hadn't come like that in a long time and couldn't recall a time where he had come untouched. Breathing hard, he slumped forward, resting his entire weight on the furniture.

“Well, would you look at that?” Tony sounded simultaneously fascinated and turned on.

Bucky turned his head to watch and flushed when Tony ran his fingers through his come before bringing it up to his mouth, sucking obscenely.

He grinned when he caught Bucky staring. “What? I’m cleaning up your mess.”

Fuck.

Bucky groaned, running his hands down his face. "Fucking hell, Stark. You tryin’ to kill me?" he asked, pulling his boxers back up, hissing at the feeling of the tight fabric over his ass.

"What happened to Daddy?" Tony retorted, then ran three of his fingers through the mess again and held it out to Bucky, sending a shudder through his entire body from head to toe. "Now it's your turn. I can only do so much for you when you’re the one who made the mess, honey."

Bucky happily took the three fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, all while maintaining eye contact with Tony. Releasing them with a pop, Bucky leaned in closer to Tony before whispering in his ear.

"Thank you, Daddy."

Tony's lips parted in a silent groan, and he closed his eyes momentarily before looking at Bucky. "I think we've done things a bit backward, soldier. What d'you say to being treated to dinner by me?" He raised an eyebrow. "Italian sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, although I'm sure I'd eat anything you suggested," Bucky commented playfully.

At Tony's eye-roll, Bucky looked around the room, smirking when he noticed his metal arm had torn the fabric in the height of his orgasm. “Hey Daddy, can I use your card to buy a new couch?”

#winteriron #tony/bucky #tony x bucky #buckybarnesbingo2021 #bucky barnes #tony stark #buckytony #tonybucky #my fics #van 💗💗#dom!tony #sub!bucky

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