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moonlesslights · 1 year

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Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

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Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv #peter b parker

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abbyshands · 2 months

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𐚁⊹₊ ⋆ YOU GOT ME, DARLING 𓄀 part 1

“i- i meant, like, heat-wise. it’s in the, um, 80’s right now,” abby replies awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck like it’ll settle the nerves having a field day in her veins. “but you are pretty hot,” she mumbles under her breath.

𓄀 pairing: cowgirl!reader x city girl!abby anderson

𓄀 includes: masc!reader, tall!reader, reader has tattoos and piercings and is implied to be muscular, established friendships (abby x ellie, dina, and manny), reader has an established backstory, modern setting, flirting, reader has an accent so read as such!

𓄀 summary: you decide to represent your business, cowboy classics, at seattle’s annual farmer’s market, unaware that the universe would send an angel with blonde hair and blue eyes to your feet.

𓄀 notes: so i had a lil’ idea and i ran with it so i present this lil’ series i’m gonna start <3 i have lots of ideas for it so be prepared for it to be a lil’ all over the place if i’m being honest. also, eventual smut of course! please comment or let me know if you want to be tagged. alright now, enjoy! ♡

𓄀 wc: 3k

every year, seattle hosts a farmer’s market that lasts a week, the hottest week of the summer. for the last, dear god, however many years you had lived here, you had never come to it, much less represented your business at it. but this year, you figured, why not? all your other friends were pooling into the heart of the city to attend the yearly market, so why couldn’t you?

you weren’t the biggest fan of seattle when you first arrived here. it was a stark contrast from where you grew up, a little prairie in rural texas. you remember shuddering each time you passed by a building the first week you lived here, wondering, where the hell are the fields?

seattle was just so different. rainy, cold, urbanized down to the last letter. you had moved here from texas when you were only 18 by your parents’ wishes for you to go to a college, get a degree, and get a damn job. your parents had been hard on you growing up for reasons unbeknownst to you, not like it mattered. not then, and not now.

after studying in college for two years and narrowly managing to get an associate’s degree in business, you decided to not pursue your bachelor’s, instead getting right to work. you earned yourself a job as a construction worker, the closest you had gotten to home since moving to seattle two years prior. the hot days when the sun came out in the summer, the rigorous work outside, the dirt on your skin by evening to show for a job well done. it was all you could have asked for and more.

when you managed to get yourself afloat, considerably well off, you ventured right outside urban seattle and scored yourself a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, far up a mile long dirt road. it was perfect, reminiscent of that old texas charm you had missed so dearly since leaving it. and then, when you finally settled down, you purchased a place bordering the urban and rural areas of seattle to make your own, where you used your associate’s degree and your casual texan charm to open a business.

cowboy classics read the sign hanging off your stand as the hot summer sun beat down on your back, shining down on your skin, which glistened with sweat as you set up your stand. thank god your stall had a roof, or else you’d be a goner for the next few hours that you’d be at the farmer’s market.

the market was crowded that morning, and more people were drawn to you and your stand than you were ready for. you couldn’t say you weren’t flattered, especially when you made a solid hundred dollars in the first hour and pretty girls were all but falling at your feet to buy your merchandise.

cowboy classics consisted of several products right off your farm. fruits like apples, berries, and melons, veggies like corn and peppers, and herbs of all kinds, such as cilantro, parsley, and rosemary, which you had grown yourself. dairy products, like fresh milk in classic milk jugs, regular and strawberry, cream cheese, and smooth butter. jams and jellies that the folks back home and your friends here in seattle could die for. and last but not least, handmade soaps and candles.

one would wonder why your shop was called cowboy classics when you were clearly a girl, if it weren’t for your heavily masculine energy. it seemed to radiate off of you, like the very sunrays shining down on your skin. from your voice, deep and low, thick with a rural texan accent, to your attire, a flannel and jeans, a belt with a big buckle and boots, and you couldn’t miss the cowboy hat, to even your scent, musky cologne mixed with the smells of your farm and all the products you produced from it.

now, city girl abby anderson couldn’t be further from a cowgirl. having grown up in the heart of seattle, washington, abigail “abby” anderson works as a personal trainer at a gym a few blocks away from her house. as tall, big, and muscular as she is, she couldn’t be more awkward. she wasn’t clueless, she just preferred her bed to being so human as to socialize. she was a little shy, but complex in nature, her sweet blue eyes easy to get lost in, her blonde hair shaping her freckled face to flawlessness.

the yearly market was always fun for abby. her dad would always take a few days off his shifts at the hospital just to bring abby to the market, unable to resist the way her eyes lit up when they settled on all the wonders the place had to offer, at least for a little girl. now that she was older, she had grown to adore it even more. it was all so raw, so natural, and the products at the market were inexpensive and could actually be of use to her.

abby was walking through the market with a few friends beside her. her best friend, ellie, her girlfriend, dina, and one of abby’s closest friends, manny. manny liked the market as much as abby did, though it was less for what you could buy and more for what you could take home with you. in other words, the pretty girls. ellie previously just liked to accompany abby to the market, but since having met dina, she came more for dina’s love of it.

“shit, it’s hot,” abby said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead for the third time in the last ten minutes. her pale forehead glistened with sweat, little blonde baby hairs plastered to it.

ellie chuckled, nodding. “this heat wave’s no fucking joke. we’re going to be liquid by the time we get out of here.”

“ooh, look at that! those shirts are so cute!” dina suddenly exclaimed, causing the group’s attention to snap to a stand of hand knitted shirts and randomized accessories, like scarves, purses, and gloves. before ellie could even respond, dina was dragging her by the hand to the stand.

abby chuckled, having grown quite used to dina’s impulsive nature. when she turned to her side to look to manny, she realized that he had also wandered off, easily finding him chatting up a pretty girl at a different stall. abby rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep the amusement off her face. those were her friends for you. looks like she was on her own.

if she was being honest, she preferred to walk through the market alone, at least when she was actually looking through the vendors for good finds. it was reminiscent of her childhood, this little piece of seattle that gave the city girl a taste of what it was like on the other side of urban, even if it only lasted a week.

abby was walking through the market, having yet to find a stand that piqued her interest, when one poked out at her. curiously, she squinted to get a better look at it, her feet approaching it of their own accord. the owner’s back was turned, but abby could tell that it was a woman, one that was a sight for sore eyes, at that. but what interested her, too, was the variety of products at the stand, produce and dairy products, jams and jellies, paired with what looked like soaps and candles.

it was only when she turned around that abby’s attention was hers, and hers only.

who the hell is that?

the closer abby got to your stand, the more intrigued by you she was. you had a face that could bring anybody to their knees, clad in a flannel and dark blue jeans, a brown belt with a huge buckle, and jesus christ, a black cowboy hat to top it off. it was like she had looked one way and been in seattle, washington, than turned and teleported into rural texas. she couldn’t help the way her eyes raked over your body, taking you in in all your glory, tattooed arms and hands with a prominent tattoo on your neck and collarbone, several silver piercings in your ears.

alright, she’d bite.

and she hoped you would, too.

your interest was piqued when you saw her walking up to your stand. the girls who had approached you thus far were pretty, but this girl was a downright stunner. blonde hair tied back in a braid that fell over her right shoulder, exposed by her black tank top, paired with her brown cargo shorts. she had these pretty blue eyes, too, pretty blue eyes that sparkled like sweet diamonds in the burning seattle sun, accompanying the prominent freckles on her nose and cheeks.

she was muscular like you, only it peaked out in her arms, hands, and thighs, whereas your muscle presented itself in your broad shoulders and chest. you can’t wipe the grin off your face as she approaches your stand, and you set down the soaps you’d just picked up from a crate behind you on the stand, seeing as you had just sold out for the second time since arriving at the market.

“hey there,” you smile at her, and shit, even your voice is alluring, and it matches your face just right. dark, deep and low and thick with rasp, a texan accent to it that was impossible to miss. it was embarrassing for the blonde, just how fast her face heated up, that is, and she gave you a shy smile in response, along with a little awkward wave. “see somethin’ ya’like, baby?”

yes, you.

abby cleared her throat, nodding, trying so hard to ignore the way her stomach flips at the way that last word slipped off your lips. “uh, yeah. your stand is really cool,” abby said, a rosy blush covering her cheeks and nose as she inspected the soaps you had just set down on the counter. before you can respond to her compliment, she asks, “did you make these yourself?”

you nod to confirm, looking down at the soaps she was referring to. “sure did. handmade all day. the folks here quite like ‘em. sold out twice,” you said, leaning over the counter, eyes settled on the blonde girl before you. abby’s battling to ignore how nervous she feels at being in the presence of such a handsome woman, heavily aware of how much taller than her you are.

and she never meets girls who are taller than her.

abby takes one of the soaps into her hands. pine, her scent of choice in cologne, hair products, air freshener, candles, whatever it may be. she would marry the damn scent if she could. reading the label, she realized the scent of the little handmade bar of soap was a mix of pine and vanilla, and she lifted it to her nose to give it a smell, earning the blonde’s instant approval. “well, i can see why. this smells great,” abby commented.

“i’m glad’ya like it,” you chuckle as your tongue darts out to lick your lips, your eyes raking over the girl for the millionth time since she had walked up to your stand. you can’t help but be curious about her. unlike most of the girls you had met at the market thus far, she wasn’t throwing herself at your feet.

though you wouldn’t mind if she did.

“i’m abigail, by the way. abby,” abby said with that awkward grin of hers, putting her hand out for you to shake. abigail. jesus christ, she never introduced herself like that. you were making the poor girl so nervous she couldn't even think right. you take her hand into yours, kissing the back of it before telling her your own name, tipping your hat. shit, even your name made her heart skip a beat.

was there a damn thing about you that abby anderson wasn’t attracted to?

“it’s nice to meet you,” abby smiled, unable to tear her eyes away from you and all the products your stand had to offer. she walked over to a little shelf beside it, stocked with candles of all scents. “did you make these, too?”

“that i did, darlin’. use the same scents as i do the soaps, so if’ya like that pine one, it’s there,” you say. abby nods. you didn’t have to tell her twice. somehow, it only smells better to her when the scent of pine and vanilla fills her nose in the form of a candle. and, of course, because you made it. she sets the candle and soap onto your stand, timid as she slides them over to you, a small mumble of, “just these,” leaving her lips.

you take the candle into your hands, grabbing a piece of brown wrapping paper from the stack of it you had behind the stand. you put it down, setting the candle in the middle of the sheet of paper before wrapping it up and putting it into a little bag alongside the soap. abby would be drooling if her lips were parted, watching the way your muscles flex at even the smallest movements as you wrap the candle up for her.

you give abby a price, to which she takes out her wallet and hands you the bills, graciously telling you to keep the change. you smile at her, more than thankful for her kindness, but not needing the extra money. “that’s alright, baby. i’ll get’ya your change, though i appreciate the gesture,” you return, reaching behind you to fetch a few ones and coins. but not before abby cuts you off.

“n- no, really, i insist. you deserve it,” abby says a little too quickly. an angel this one was, that was for damn sure.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “well, aren’t you sweet. insist, huh?”

abby nods firmly, though the blush on her cheeks betrays the show of confidence. “yes, i insist. you’re going to be here all day, you’re selling awesome products, and you’re hot. it’s the least i could do,” she says, like the fact was common knowledge. you lean in just to tease her, raising an eyebrow.

“ya’think i’m hot, darlin’?”

abby’s eyes widen at how close you get to her face, and how suddenly aware she is of her own existence. she almost can’t hear you over the sound of her heart rattling in her ears, pumping in her chest as the musky scent of your cologne fills her nose. she tries and fails to not let her eyes wander down to your lips and fuck, her head was spinning, spiraling with the handsome cowgirl she could die happy now that she’d met.

you sure as hell don’t miss it.

“well, thank’ya kindly, darlin’. you’re mighty fine yourself,” you smirk, and abby’s head was spinning. how did people like you even exist in real life? you were right of of a western movie, the way you looked, the way you sounded, even your energy alone was enough to throw a city girl like abby for a loop. “but you’re damn right. fuck, sweatin’ like a damn sinner in church in this heat,” you say, taking a second to stretch as you do.

abby can’t help the way her cheeks burn at the simple act of you cussing. and she’d tear her eyes from you right now, if it weren’t for the way your flannel rises when you stretch, revealing the lower part of your torso. you make direct eye contact with her and shoot one of your signature smirks her way before speaking. “well, if you’re gonna be such a sweetheart, s’only fair i do a little somethin’ in return,” you say. you reach behind you to the little cooler that’s filled with all the dairy products you make on your farm, rummaging through it. “d’ya like strawberries?”

abby nodded, wondering what you were getting at. “i do.”

“alright, then,” you nod in return, pulling out one of your jugs of strawberry milk and sliding it across the counter towards her. “can’t have a pretty thing like you burnin’ up in this heat, now can we? promise you’ll like it.”

abby cursed the blush on her cheeks, hoping you’d think she was getting sunburnt instead. pretty. you think she’s fucking pretty. “i- i’m sure i will, but i don’t think the change i gave you covers this,” abby said, just about ready to reach into her wallet and give you every last bill in it. but you shake your head, taking her previous words.

“ah ah ah. i insist. alright?” you say, and there’s a no nonsense way about the words that leave your lips, like you won’t take no for an answer, so firm that it sends chills down abby’s spine. she pouts and she’s fucking adorable as she does it. and when she gives you a reluctant nod, you smile. “attagirl.”

jesus christ.

“i’m going to pay you back for this. somehow,” abby says, a hint of brattiness to her voice. you can’t say you don’t like it, especially when it’s accompanied with that cute pout of hers. you chuckle as she asks, “what do you want?”

“hm,” you pretend to think about it, putting your hands on your hips as you push your tongue into your cheek. abby’s trying and failing hard not to look at the sweat dripping down your tattooed arms. you make up your mind, then look down at her. “why don’t’cha come back tomorrow? late, when the market’s ‘bout to close. i’ll show’ya how to make it up to me,” you say with a wink.

abby’s heart skips a beat at your words. she doesn’t think she’s ever been more happy to hear a promise like that one. her smile is equal parts coy and shy as she responds to you. “i’ll be here.”

no matter how confident you look on the outside, butterflies are swarming ‘round your belly within. a pretty girl like this one, shy and sweet, generous and kind, was going to come back tomorrow to see you, no convincing needed. had you died and gone to heaven? you smile, blowing abby a little kiss. “alright, then. take care now, abigail,” you tease, just as she’s about to walk away. abby playfully rolls her eyes at you.

“abby.”

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆ taglist! @aouiaa @plutolovesyou @soupycloud @xayn-xd

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baronessvonglitter · 3 months

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 1 🍒 “Austin"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2K

Summary: new to the city, you befriend Sarah, and in a time of need you befriend her dad Joel

WARNINGS: this particular chapter is safe for everyone to read, but future chapters will contain smut; mild cursing, little bit of flirting; age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35); reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race specified and will not be throughout the series; until otherwise specified, this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, no use of y/n.

Author's Note: this was the first fic I ever wrote, after months of lurking on AO3. It's one of my favorites to write and probably my most popular on AO3, so I'm bringing her to the party. In this particular chapter Joel fixes a sink, and I did minimal investigating into the world of plumbing, so obviously any mistakes are just gonna be there.

Series Masterlist

Austin is quiet. So much quieter than where you came from: Houston, the city on the bayou, where there's always something fun to do. Not that Austin is without its charm, it just kind of feels like living on the moon after the hustle and bustle of your hometown, the fourth largest city in the US. But the people are friendly, the vibes are mellow, and you soon begin to feel at home.

Soon you'll be starting college at the University of Texas, a school you've had your eye on since fifth grade. Your mom, overprotective but meaning well, allowed you to stay with your older cousin Sofia rather than living on campus. And you're excited about it because even with a roommate, this is your first time on your own, away from home, about to really live your life.

School starts in a couple months, so in the meantime you get a job at a new Starbucks in town, providing you with a little spending money. The first few days are a blur, making drinks, learning the register. But it keeps you busy, A few times a week a younger group of kids come in, ordering the cheapest things on the menu. One of them, a girl 13 or 14 years old, approaches the counter. She studies the overhead menu with an air of seriousness. "What's in a frappuccino?" she asks.

"Um, coffee, espresso, milk, ice, and syrup blended together, basically. Comes with whipped cream on top. I could give you one to try," you offer, as your manager is out that day.

"Sure," the girl answers eagerly.

You make the cold, frothy drink and hand it to her. "I'm still pretty new at this, so if you hate it, I'm sorry," you joke.

She smiles and walks back to her friends, sipping the frapp.

You work until evening and pick up some fast food on the way home, Getting out of the car with your food you lean back against the vehicle, stretching a little, trying to wake yourself up a bit. Then you hear the sound of a truck coming up the driveway next door and the engine shutting off. There are a couple of voices you hear as the people begin to exit the truck.

"Hey, she's the one who gave me the free coffee today," you hear, and though it likely isn't meant for you to hear, you glance over and see the young girl from earlier today, climbing out of the truck. From around the driver's side you see a man, mid-thirties, tall, well-built, a black t-shirt clinging to his torso. Dirtied jeans and work boots complete his attire. It takes a moment before you realize he's looking at you.

Immediately you glance back at the girl, obviously his daughter. "Hey," you smile and give a quick, awkward wave. She waves back politely and he gives a curt nod and quick wave. They make their way up the front porch and you hear his gruff voice: "You had coffee? Great, now you'll be bouncin' off the walls all evenin'," before the door closes behind them.

"Guess I met my neighbors," you mutter, making your way inside as well.

Over the next few days the girl, who you now know as Sarah Miller, comes to Starbucks, ordering the same frapp every time. "Don't tell your dad I'm giving you all this caffeine," you tell her, hiding a smirk.

Sometimes you give her a ride home from the cafe, though she claims to use the bus now and then. You come to see that Sarah is a lot more mature than you were at her age. You hang out from time to time, swim in your backyard pool, go to the mall, and every time you drop her off you catch a glimpse of her dad, always a figure in the background. You exchange a wave or polite smile and move on.

It's your day off, a Sunday. You intend to spend the day lounging, watching TV. Maybe Sarah will stop by. After making a quick breakfast for yourself you do the dishes. When you're finished, you realize the class ring you'd set on the counter is gone, likely washed down the sink. "Damn!" you exclaim, and text Sofia, who has just left for work.

Go next door and ask Mr. Miller if he can take a look and get it out. He's helped around the house before your cousin replies.

You sigh and put the phone down.

You're a little hesitant going to speak to him. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's home. You knock on the door, feeling self-conscious about your first interaction with him, and Mr. Miller opens the door.

"Good morning," you introduce yourself. "I'm Sarah's friend.. from next door."

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Joel Miller." He extends a calloused hand and you shake it. You've always assumed him to be a man who does hard work for a living, but in your first time seeing him up close you admire his tousled, dark brown hair, his deep brown eyes that seem serious. "What can I do for ya?" he asks in his gentle Texan drawl.

You smile. "Well, I was told you're pretty handy around the house, and I lost my ring in the sink just now." You chuckle at your mistake. "Would it be possible for you to come over and take a look?" You feel really shy about asking this of a man you barely know.

He takes a moment to think, clears his throat, raises his brow. "I suppose I could stop by." His tone is gruff but his manner seems warm enough. "I'll give it a shot. I'm no plumber, but I'll see what I can do." He shrugs.

You smile and sigh with relief. "Of course. I mean, even you just checking it out would be a big help.. whenever you can stop by I'll be here." You don't want to make demands on his time.

"All right.. I'm not doin' much right now, so I could swing 'round if you like. Just let me grab my toolbox."

Once inside, with minimal conversation Joel gets on the floor, under the sink, and gets to work. You wait nearby, trying not to hover, but also wanting to be available in case he needs anything. Plus he's good looking. You watch as he works. His shirt rides up, revealing his torso, and a hint of the waistband of his underwear. Your eyes wander lower until you force them away. To distract yourself you start putting things away in the cupboard.

"Sarah tells me you're new to Austin," he says as he works.

"Yeah, I'm actually from Houston. I'm starting UT in the fall, and staying with my cousin in the meantime. I take it you know Sofia?"

"I do. She's nice. I keep an eye on her place when she's away. Even when you're there."

You mean to say something in reply, maybe 'thank you' but you're thinking about him keeping a protective watch over your home while you're inside, unaware.

"So you're starting university? How old are ya?" he asks.

Something about his question makes you feel like a deer in headlights. "I'll be nineteen in September. On the twenty-sixth."

You can almost hear the smile in his voice. "No shit? That's my birthday. Except I'm far from nineteen. Small world, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you say, sneaking another glance at his torso.

"What're you studyin'?"

"English," you answer, excited to talk about it. "More specifically Literature. I want to write, and maybe one day work at a huge publishing house."

You hear Joel give a grunt. "What do you write?"

"Poetry sometimes, short stories, I have a few ideas for novels."

Another grunt. "You don't look like the type.. the writer type.. no offense."

"What type do I look like?" Your heart races as you realize he's categorized you already.

He peeks out from under the sink and his eyes fix on you in a way that makes you shiver. "I don't know yet. But you're young. Maybe you're the rebellious type." He goes back to work.

You sit on the floor, your back against the fridge opposite him. "How am I the rebellious type to you?"

He's quiet, and you see the gleam of his eyes from where he's under the sink. "Haven't quite figured it out yet.."

You can tell he's having fun with this, and there's a vibration in the air, a palpable chord struck, and you wonder if he feels it too.

"Anything I can do? Feeling kinda helpless over here," you chuckle.

"Just stay out of the way," his voice is more gruff than maybe he intends. Frowning, his eyes focus on an item lodged in the P-trap. He reaches in and pulls out your ring. It's covered in gunk and grime but you recognize it immediately.

"Oh shit! Thank you..." It's your class ring. 'Class of 2003' is engraved on the side, with a princess cut sapphire on top. You put it aside to clean it later.

Joel smirks. "No problem."

"I really owe you one."

"I dunno about that. Just don't go throwin' away your valuable stuff next time, okay?" He's teasing, almost playful.

You laugh "Okay.. hey I'm working at the cafe tomorrow. If you come by I could get you a free coffee." You put the offer out there, testing the waters though you aren't sure why.

"Free coffee? Careful, girl, between giving away free stuff to me and Sarah, you're gonna run Starbucks out of business," he grins. "But yeah, I might have to stop by."

You walk him out, even though Joel says it's not necessary, but you can tell he enjoys your company. "I guess I'll be seeing you around Joel.. Mr. Miller."

He stifles a chuckle. There's a touch of amusement in the way he speaks to you, but he hides it behind a warm, open expression. "Call me Joel. No need to be so formal around me."

"If my mom was here she'd say I was being disrespectful, calling you by your first name." You can't help a little blush.

"I won't complain about respect," he smiles again.

"She's pretty protective of me," you describe your living situation, your freedom that is being given in increments.

"Well your mom might've done you a favor there." Joel looks out past your front porch. "That's probably a wise decision, ya know? What about your dad? He ok with you living far from home?"

You shake your head. "He's not.. really in the picture. My parents divorced about five years ago. My dad went up north, Minnesota I think, and I haven't seen him since.." You feel a little vulnerable revealing this.

Joel's brow furrows and his expression darkens. You wonder if he's thinking about Sarah. You don't know much about her mother and haven't felt okay to ask. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you all right?"

You shrug. "I guess so. I've managed this long without him.." You give a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all this.."

"No problem, I don't mind listenin'. Do me a favor," he says suddenly. "Be careful out there, okay?"

Something about this catches you off guard. "Of course I will."

He smiles. "Good. I'll see you at the cafe tomorrow," he phrases it like a hopeful question.

"Bright and early," you say, feeling a few butterflies in your stomach.

He laughs and nods. "Til then."

You watch him leave and though you cringe at how young, foolish, childish you must appear to him, you can't deny that you feel something, even for a brief moment. Maybe it's nothing. But something about him sticks with you, an odd feeling in your chest. But it's just a dumb, knee-jerk reaction. He has a family, he's twice your age. You're focused on school and your future. Joel Miller is the last person you should be thinking about...

...right?

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #ao3 fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller au #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro boys #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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sleepysnk · 1 year

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a/n: okay.. i never thought i’d ever write for wakasa, but this idea came to me and i couldn’t let it slide. shoutout to @wakashawty for being the sole reason why i did this. i love you kei bae! 🤍 i hope you guys all enjoy <3

pairings: wakasa imaushi x fem!reader

warnings: modern au, alcohol consumption (wakasa), mentions of harassment, club owner!wakasa, waitress!reader, use of cigarettes, very flirty wakasa, nsfw, smut, fingering, use of pet names (angel, doll, baby, good girl, princess), teasing, brief edging, use of blindfolds, consensual recording, possessive sex, mentions of jealousy, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, choking, mentions of marks.

synopsis: you work as a waitress at the infamous club owned by wakasa imaushi. you hadn’t encountered the man ever in your entire time employed there, but one night you had a chance encounter with the owner looking for something other than your professional service.

the white leopard ft. wakasa imaushi

The White Leopard.

The infamous club that was located in the downtown of your city, and owned by a man named Wakasa Imaushi. The club had opened its doors just two years prior. It was well known amongst older adults and some older college kids as a hang out spot to get drunk, and hookup with men or women on the weekends. Many fine businessmen from the city often flocked to the place to grab a drink or meet pretty women to tuck away in their beds. With businessmen, came wealthy evenings for the people who worked at the establishment. Some of the bartenders went home with hundred dollar bills in their pockets from how active the nights would be. It was a truly luxurious club, despite what may have gone down on the inside.

You weren’t sure how you managed to snatch a job at the place, but you somehow did.

You had been employed at The White Leopard for almost six months. One of your friends recommended you the job when she had heard about your termination from your previous job. At first, you thought you were about to become some kind of stripper. The idea of possibly twirling and swinging around on a metal pole made your skin crawl, but when your friend explained that you would be a waitress, that gross feeling dissipated from your mind. You had never worked a server job before. All of your previous positions had to do with retail or working as a barista at your local coffee shop. You had the customer service experience, but being a waitress sounded quite nerve wracking.

Though, you didn’t have much of a choice. You lived by yourself with bills that had to be paid, and you were also still a college student. There was no possible way that you would be able to support yourself with no job, so you filled out the application and received a call back the next day for an interview.

After that day, you began working at the fine club. You had heard many people on your university campus boasting about how exhilarating it is to party at The White Leopard, and from working there as long as you did, you could completely understand why they said those things. The place really kept up its reputation. Anytime you stepped inside, you could practically smell the whiff of money and expensive cologne that probably was worth more than your college tuition and rent combined. Being there was great, though. The job was just as you imagined it to be. Taking drink orders, assisting guests with questions, all the usual things a server would take care of.

The weekdays were always pretty slow. Monday through Thursday were always the days you would go home with the least amount of cash, but occasionally you would have a decent night if there was some kind of important business being held by the businessmen who visited the club. The real action was on Friday and the weekends. Those were the busiest evenings, considering that most people didn’t have work or school to attend the next day. The very first time you worked a Friday night you swore to god that your pockets were overflowing with cash. Your coworker, Yuzuha, had informed you of how easy the men were with money during the night. She was right about that. You’d come back to tables with almost two hundred dollars in tips, sitting right in the center. It was so quick to make money that you never passed on a shift like that again, except if you weren’t placed on the schedule.

While it seemed like paradise, there were downsides to your job.

With being a waitress, came the idiots who never seemed to know how to treat wait staff. You had to deal with all kinds of people and witness all types of things all while at work. There were several occasions where grown men have shouted in your face and called you a whore for not serving their drinks quick enough. Some of the men inside of the club had said disgusting things to you as well. You’ve been harassed frequently by intoxicated guys that just couldn’t take no for an answer. You were thankful that security took care of it, but those kinds of words often lingered inside your mind and made you want to quit altogether.

The issues didn’t stem from just men, there were also incredibly rude women as well. Many times random girls would accuse you of trying to seduce their boyfriends when you were simply just leaning over to hear them better. The music inside the club was deafening at times, and it didn’t help that some of the tables were directly by huge speakers that made it very difficult to hear the customers. You’ve also had girls dump drinks on you for no apparent reason. As much as you wanted to verbally tell them off, you remembered that you had a job and you weren’t in the mood to get fired. Your manager told you many times that you should never engage in an argument with a customer. It was bothersome, very bothersome, but you always bit your tongue and put a smile on your face.

Besides some of those negative things, you still kept the job. You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. Plus, you got to work with some pretty kind people. Your coworkers were the only reason you hadn’t completely abandoned the job all together. That, and the fact that you made lots of money within just one week.

There was one person you had yet to see at your job, and that was the owner. Wakasa Imaushi was his name.

You had been employed there for six months. Yet, you never had a single encounter with the man who opened the club all that time ago. Some of your coworkers had seen the man before and described him as this intimidating figure who would come in to have a drink or two, then leave with his buddies. Your female coworkers often raved about Wakasa. They said he was very handsome and they had even seen him leave with women from the club. Part of you envied the people you worked with. Seeing Wakasa in all his glory sounded like a total dream. You tried to go to the lengths of finding his social media. Surely a club owner like him would have business profiles, but much to your dismay, there wasn’t a single trace of this man’s existence on the internet. You could understand if he wanted to be private with his life, but not even a proper photograph? It was odd.

Maybe there would be a chance for you to properly meet him, but with his rarity of appearances, that seemed highly unlikely.

Tonight was a usually busy shift for you. Being that it was a Friday evening, you expected such an exciting atmosphere from the moment you stepped in for work. It was a pretty nice night for you. So far, you had made about three hundred dollars worth of tips.

Your shift had begun at six thirty and it was already nearing midnight. Your manager informed you that you only had to work for another fifteen minutes or so. You were kind of thankful for that, because the later hours of the night kind of got crazy. That also meant you got to go home early and retire for the evening in your comfortable bed. You had a fairly long day at school. Exams were kicking your ass and with studying and working you hardly had any time to get any shut eye. Tonight had also been pretty tiring, despite nothing serious going down. You still dealt with weird comments from drunk men that couldn’t keep it to themselves.

You were standing in the corner of the club where the cash register was. You had just closed out one of your tables and you were currently counting how much money you had. The clock displayed on your phone screen showed that it was now midnight. You were relieved to know that you would be able to go home soon. Your feet were killing you from the amount of standing and walking you did today.

Sighing, you placed the cash into the pocket of your blouse. This is usually what you did towards the end of your shifts. You’d just stand in the corner until it was time for you to clock out. Your manager was okay with it, but sometimes he would remind you that not doing anything could get you into trouble. However, why would some drunk man come bombarding you with questions as to why you were standing there. Most of the people in this club came here to do whatever they pleased. You’ll never forget the time you caught two people having sex in the restroom. It was honestly mind blowing, but at least you had a funny story to tell whenever you were out and about with someone.

You stood there on your cell phone. You scrolled through your socials, smiling at the posts your friends had made. You had the day off tomorrow, so you were pretty excited to make plans with your companions. The semester had been grueling and you were so ready to have a night out with zero stressors weighing on your mind.

“Oh! There you are, (Y/N)!”

You practically fumbled with your phone to shove it into your waistband. The familiar voice of your manager was the reason for your mindless scrolling to be placed on pause. Although he was a nice man, he had a pet peeve for staff using their cellphones in the middle of their shifts. There were a few times you had gotten caught on the job and you’d rather not get fired for something as small as a cellphone issue, so you listened to the man. “O-Oh, hey, Kakucho, what’s up?” you shifted around, trying to avoid the awkwardness of being caught by him.

The man placed his hand on his hip. He seemed rather unamused by seeing you on your phone, but that wasn’t much of a concern to him at the moment. He had a much greater worry at hand, and he needed your assistance with that. “I know this might be a lot to ask.. but can you stay a little longer? We have a guest coming and it’s important we have someone on the ready when he arrives.” he looked down at you, seeming desperate for your presence to remain at the club. “He’s quite.. a significant individual.”

A sense of dread washed over you at his words. You were exhausted. You were surprised that you didn’t possibly fall asleep in the break room. Kakucho had asked you to do this many times before. Any time there was a big figure coming to The White Leopard, he’d ask a select few of servers to stick around after their shifts. You were used to that question being proposed often, but tonight? He must have been desperate, considering Yuzuha and Emma had been still there. He even gave you the go ahead to leave early, so that felt kind of unfair to you. It was almost like Kakucho was playing some sick joke on you to poke fun at you. All you wanted to do was go home and rest. If he would have asked another evening, sure, but tonight? It seemed out of the question.

You sighed, looking up at your manager with obvious frustration. Kakucho could easily see it in your expression. “I’m exhausted.. I know that’s not much of an excuse, but still. You also told me I could head home early, so why the sudden change of heart?” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Kakucho combed his fingers through his jet-black hair. He understood your feelings of tiredness and desire to go home for the evening. He also did have a sense of guilt for informing you earlier that you could leave early, but he wasn’t expecting to receive a phone call from Shinichiro so late in the night. It was a rare occasion. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), it’s just Yuzuha and Emma are booked with tables right now. You’re the only one who doesn’t have a single one, and I’d rather provide the utmost service for our guest.” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “I promise you’ll be paid extra for this.. I just really need you right now. I’ll even give you the entire weekend off.”

You wondered if staying behind would be a good idea. Your eyes wandered to your coworkers who were practically bouncing around the lively club with drinks in their hands. Kakucho was right. Yuzuha and Emma had their hands full with customers, and your departure would only build onto the stress they were experiencing. It would be very unfair for you to completely dip without at least offering some help. Kakucho also promised more money on your next check and the entire weekend off.

Sighing, you averted your gaze onto your employer who seemed a little antsy. You could read him like a book and his body language was the words inside it. It made you wonder who this guest was. “Fine.. I’ll stay.” his face lit up with relief, but also excitement at your response. “But, who’s the guest? Is it Hanma Shuji again?”

“No, um, it’s Wakasa Imaushi.”

All of your blood went cold at the name that rolled off of Kakucho’s lips. Wakasa Imaushi was making an appearance tonight? And you had to be the one who served him and whoever else came with him? Your heart rate began to spike at the thought of waiting his table. You had been working this job for months and you honestly still felt like you were a newbie at times. Sure, you had served highly entitled men like Hanma Shuji or even Manjiro Sano at one point, but the club’s owner? That’s something you never imagined you’d have the opportunity to do. You had heard plenty of stories from your coworkers, but even that didn’t give you enough confidence. What if he was a poor customer to you? You had heard plenty of horror stories from other waitresses on owners who were complete assholes to the staff because of their status. What if Wakasa was the same? You would hate to possibly make a negative impression on the man who owned The White Leopard.

You tried to look on the bright side. Your coworkers had never said anything pessimistic about the man, and you guys often spoke about your negative experiences with customers. If Wakasa was one of those bad apples, you would have surely heard about it by now. Though, that was their experiences, not yours. He could be a complete jackass for all you knew.

Trying to calm yourself, you looked at Kakucho who was still staring at you. He seemed to be waiting for your reply about his mention of Wakasa swinging by the club. You weren’t sure what there was to say, but you had to come up with something. “Wakasa..?! Kakucho, can’t you ask one of the other girls? I don’t even know what he likes or what he’s even like as a person!” you started to panic a little, despite not wanting to. You didn’t like the idea of serving a man you had never met before.

Kakucho placed his hands onto your shoulders. He could sense your anxiety and wanted to make sure you were relaxed before Wakasa arrived. The last thing he’d want is for you to have a meltdown and risk embarrassing yourself in front of the man. He had lots of confidence in you. “Hey, don’t panic, okay? Just treat him like a regular customer. All of his drinks are being pre made right now, so you just have to introduce yourself and just serve his drinks. He’s not a bad guy, (Y/N). Just play it casual,” he rubbed his thumbs on your skin, which somewhat calms you down. Though, that furious beat of your heart was making itself known within your chest.

You shook your head, feeling stupid enough to accept his offer of staying late. In all honesty, you should have just lied to Kakucho and said you had a headache so he’d let you leave. It didn’t seem like there was any other choice, nor could you go back now. Wakasa was on his way, and you doubted Kakucho would let you go after this. It didn’t matter how hard you may have protested. “Ugh.. fine, just let me know when he arrives.” you glanced over at the multi-colored strobe lights that danced along the walls.

He nodded at you, tapping your arm as a way to reassure you that everything would be fine. “You got it. Thank you again for this. Wakasa will be here in a few minutes.” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see his messages.

He then turned and left you there, disappearing into the darkness of the club. You let out an anxious sigh and rubbed your hands on your temples. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you right now. To be honest, you didn’t think your evening would have been like this. You thought that you would have gone back to your apartment and crashed into your bed with a nice day upcoming tomorrow. You never imagined that you would be serving Wakasa Imaushi of all people. Hell, you didn’t even know what the hell he looked like. For all you knew, Wakasa could be this forty year old man who would call you a dumb brat for not bringing his drink fast enough. You really hoped that wasn’t who he was.

You stood there for a while. Well, it felt like you had been there for a while, but in reality only three minutes had gone by. You disliked feeling anxious over crap this small. Kakucho told you to treat him like a regular customer, but that was difficult considering that Wakasa wasn’t just an ordinary person. He owned The White Leopard. It wasn’t like he was the son of the owner or something. You had to play it cool and be as proper as you possibly could. Any kind of slip up or inappropriate action could lead to your job being lost within the snap of a finger. You prayed and prayed that it would go smoothly, and he’d be a respectful man.

Ugh, you were going insane.

Your head instantly turned when you felt a palm connect with your shoulder. Your eyes were faced with the sight of Kakucho who seemed a little more stern now. He must have been nervous as well. Sure, he was your boss, but Kakucho’s boss was probably Wakasa. “He’s here.. those three drinks are his.” your eyes shifted towards the bar where there were three different glasses sitting on a tray. “He’s in the fourth booth on the main floor. Make sure to introduce yourself and bring the drinks with you. If he asks for me, you grab me immediately, okay?”

You swallowed thickly at Kakucho’s descriptive instructions. This was serious shit now. You were about to encounter the owner you had never come across in your life. “Okay.. I will.” you then walked past your manager and stepped towards the bar where the trio of drinks were. Your eyes settled on the glasses that were sweating from the condensation. The beverages almost seemed equivalent, considering their color was the exact same. It had to be some kind of rich whisky, judging by the odor of the alcohol. You were never really a fan of those stronger liquors. They made your mouth burn and it was just too heavy for your taste.

You took in a deep breath, then lifted the tray with the drinks on them. Your body turned around and began to walk towards the main floor of the club. You tried your best to not tremble or shake the tray in your hands, because you didn’t need to embarrass yourself in front of Wakasa. You also didn’t want to lose your employment because of some stupid mistake. You were silently telling yourself that you’d be okay and all you had to do was serve them every so often. There was no conversation, small talk, none of that. You just had to be polite and do your job as a waitress.

You reached the stairs that led to the main floor of the club. The amount of bodies in the room began to increase now. The music had also become louder since the DJ was centered on the main floor. Many people passed by you as you stepped down the stairs. The aroma’s ranged from cheap perfume to the thick smell of marijuana. It was amazing what people could get away with in such a luxurious club. You would think the rules would be more strict, but it was far from that.

“Fourth booth on the main floor.”

Your eyes scanned the many booths that were pressed against the right wall of the club. People who usually came in trios or groups often sat in those spots. There were already multiple abundances of people who had occupied those seats. You counted each one inside your brain until your eyes halted on the fourth booth. You weren’t sure which one was Wakasa, but the men sitting in the booth intimidated you to all hell. It made you hesitate for a brief second, but you had to do your job. You sucked in a breath and walked over to the table where the three men were sitting. As soon as you stood in front of the table, their conversation halted and they stared at you with those eyes.

You took in the sight of the three. The man on the far left had jet-black hair that somewhat covered his eyes. A silver chain was hung around his neck and he wore a plain white button up shirt with dark pants. He seemed much friendlier compared to the other two.

The man in the middle was the real eye catcher in your opinion. He had blonde and violet hair that was thrown up in a ponytail. Two thick strands of his hair hung over his eyes like a curtain. His eyes were lazy and the color of amethyst. There was a cigarette that was tucked between his teeth. The end was smoldering and seemed to be just recently lit. There were a plethora of tattoos that painted his arms and upwards on his chest. His outfit consisted of a similar one to the man to his left. A white button up and black pants. The only difference was he wore a tie, while the other didn’t. He had to be one of the most attractive men you had ever laid your eyes upon. There was this mysterious aura that seemed to be attached to the man sitting in front of you. Could that be.. Wakasa Imaushi? You had no idea.

The man on your right was much bigger than the two men beside him. He had muscles that practically bulged out of the black button up shirt he was wearing. If he moved the wrong way, you were certain one of the buttons might fly off and hit someone in the head. He had a beard that was the same exact color of his pale hair. He seemed very menacing compared to the other two men. He seemed like the kind of guy who could crush your skull in if you stared at him the wrong way.

Snapping out of your mini analysis, you picked up the drinks one by one off of the tray. You leaned down and placed them each in front of the men sitting before you. “Hi there, welcome in! My name is (Y/N). I hope you all are having a great evening. If you need anything, I’ll be your server for tonight!” you tucked the small tray underneath your arm, trying your absolute best to seem unphased by their appearance. You had met plenty of attractive men inside The White Leopard before, but this was something else.

The male who sat in the center of the booth leaned forward. His sleeves were rolled up, giving you a whole view of the ink that trailed up his forearms. He stuck out his hand in your direction, looking up at you. “Wakasa Imaushi, pleasure to meet you.” his voice was smooth like butter. It sent chills ghosting down your spine from how nice it settled within your ears. You were right about him. “These are my friends, Shinichiro Sano and Keizo Arashi, but you can just call him Benkei for short.”

You made eye contact with him for a brief second, but immediately shifted your gaze away. His hues were so pretty, but the way he looked at you made your body feel hot. Wakasa Imaushi was what every woman cracked him up to be. He had to be a model or something with how perfect his features were. His smaller nose, lips that were just the perfect shade of pink, and eyelashes that could make any girl jealous. What a man. You reached forward, shaking his hand. His palm felt soft and quite warm against your chilled one. “It’s an h-honor to meet you, Mr.Imaushi!” you internally yelled at yourself for stuttering in front of such a high individual. You hoped deep down he didn’t notice your fumble of words.

Wakasa chuckled at your politeness. Not many people addressed him as “Mr.Imaushi” except for other coworkers, but seeing it from one of the staff was a surprise. He hadn’t met many people like that before, so it easily caught his attention. “Please, no need to be formal. Just call me Wakasa,” he reassured, removing his hand from yours to hold the glass that sat just a few inches from his body. “Thank you for your service. If we need anything, we’ll be sure to look for you, doll.”

You almost choked on your own saliva when the word “doll” slipped from his lips. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but also from being incredibly flustered with how kind he was to you. You weren’t sure if this was possibly a facade he had thrown on, but it was making you melt. In all honesty, you could listen to this man sweet talk you all damn day. He was quite the charmer. “O-Of course! I’ll be around!” you gave one more smile, then began to walk away from the table. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest from what had gone down. Wakasa completely blew you away from just a few sentences. Did he understand his impacts on women?

You walked up the steps that led to where the bar was. In the distance, you could see Yuzuha in the corner where the tablet was to register tables and take care of bills. She seemed to be counting some of the cash in her fingertips. You made your way over to her and she instantly noticed your presence beside her. “Hey! I thought you left already. Are you clocking out right now?” she nodded her head to the side.

You reached over to type in your passcode for the tablet. You remembered Kakucho being very serious about entering your tables at the proper time. “Kakucho made me stay.. and you’ll never guess who the hell I’m serving right now.” you tapped the screen a few times to enter the drinks into the bill. You weren’t too sure on if Wakasa and his friends were going to pay for what they ordered, but you’d make sure to double check with Kakucho because it would seem rude to bring a bill to the same man who owned the club.

Yuzuha’s eyebrow arched at your words. She didn’t know of any important people coming to The White Leopard that night, so it seemed rather intriguing to her. “Who? Is it someone high up?” she questioned, sounding curious.

You moved your arm away and placed it on the small table underneath you. “It’s Wakasa Imaushi..” you replied, which shocked Yuzuha.

She was genuinely caught off guard by the owner’s sudden presence at the club. Yuzuha had been working there longer than you have, but she had never had the chance to properly serve Wakasa due to his infrequency of presentation at the place. She was well aware of what he was like to the other staff. Most claimed he was respectful and usually tipped pretty well, but she had yet to see the man in full action. “What?! No way! That’s awesome, I bet he’s a great guy considering what he does.” she tapped your arm to try and excite you. “He scares me though.. I could never serve him without dropping the drinks on the floor.”

You had to agree with her there. So far, Wakasa seemed like a pleasant individual. There haven’t been any red flags and you usually picked up on customer’s vibes whenever they first sat down, but his didn’t seem bad whatsoever. His friends also didn’t look too harsh either. “Yeah, I almost lost it when I walked over to his table, but otherwise he’s been fine. I just have to keep an eye on him..” you quickly darted your head outside of your corner to see if there was that “look” on their faces, but as far as you could see, his friends seemed content in their spots.

Your coworker giggled at your reply. Yuzuha leaned against the wall for a brief moment to collect her thoughts. It had been a long evening for her as well. She made good money, but she was physically exhausted with all of the running around she had to do. “I’m wishing you serious luck, (Y/N). I have almost four tables right now and I don’t think they’ll leave until we close..” she rubbed her tired eyes with her hands.

You could honestly feel her pain. There were times where you didn’t leave until almost four in the morning because the customer’s you were serving just kept ordering drinks like they were food. It was an annoying experience because you lost out on so much needed sleep, and you didn’t wake up until noon the next day. You hoped that deep down Wakasa wasn’t the same way. If he was, you’d have a bone to pick with the owner of this club. “I’m wishing you luck too, Yuzuha!” you gave her a thumbs up, then poked your head out once again to check on the things at your table.

Confusion settled within you when you saw that both of Wakasa’s companions had somehow disappeared. They were no longer in their seats and it made you grow worried. You doubted that this was a “drink and dash” type of situation, but you prayed that they weren’t out and about looking for you since you had departed earlier. There was an occasion about four months in which a man came storming up to you all because you didn’t come by fast enough with his drink. You were lucky that Yuzuha’s brother, Hakkai, was there to come to your defense over the matter. That thought alone worried you. It risked many things, and you didn’t want to be at fault for not paying proper attention to your table.

Your vision shifted to Yuzuha who was seemingly looking around at the bar. She was waiting for some of her drinks to be made at the moment. “Hey, I’m gonna be right back.” you said, nodding your head in the opposite direction.

You then began making your way to where Wakasa’s booth was. Nervousness coursed through your veins as you grew closer to where he was. Your fingers couldn’t help but toy with the white leopard that was embroidered on your onyx colored skirt. Your worst fear right now was being scolded by Wakasa himself. You had only walked away for a good three or four minutes. It’d be even more alarming if you had disappeared for longer than that, but you remembered Kakucho explaining to you that you had to be on top of your service when it came to Wakasa. It was understandable. Could you have messed up already? You worried Kakucho was going to find out and potentially terminate your employment.

Once you made it to the main floor, your feet moved quickly to the booth where Wakasa was sitting. Relief hit you like a truck when your eyes landed on the man who was still in the direct center of the table. He was still present, but that same question remained. Where were his buddies?

Wakasa picked up on your presence expectantly. He could sense some distress in your body language, which perplexed the man in front of you. There wasn’t anything to be nervous about in his opinion. Though, it was somewhat worrying on his part. His club was always heavily guarded by high profile men, but there have been a few occasions where something unfortunate had gone down. “Everything alright, (Y/N)?” Wakasa questioned, placing his cigarette into the ashtray that was a few inches away from him.

His inquiry made your eyes focus on him. One thing about Wakasa was that he had this stare that made your body feel like it was burning. It was like he was studying you and his eyes were penetrating the deepest areas of you. You could hardly maintain eye contact without your heart leaping outside of your chest. He was attractive, so fucking attractive. It was still hard to believe that this was the man who owned The White Leopard. He was dreamy. You could get lost with him right in front of you.

However, you remembered that he asked you a question. You must have been staring for far too long, because Wakasa seemed to be a little confused by your silence. “U-Uh! Yes! I’m sorry, Wakasa.. I was just worried when I didn’t see your friends with you.” you tried to sound as apologetic as possible, because you probably looked like a fucking weirdo.

He chuckled, eyeing you up and down. He reached over and patted the empty spot that was to the right of him. “Come.. have a seat.” he then grabbed his drink which was now almost completely empty.

You were stunned at his request to have you sit with him. Usually, Kakucho never allowed the staff to sit down with any of the customers. It didn’t matter if the person was a friend or if they were family, it was prohibited. It was also implemented due to the harassment from the men who would come in. Some of them would try and coax you into sitting with them, or they’d try making you sit on their lap. It was a very uncomfortable thing that you had experienced many times, but you almost always declined. It was disgusting and you weren’t sure who the hell raised those men, but it must have been the wrong person.

Would it be unprofessional to have a seat with Wakasa? He was asking you to join him in the booth, but there was the chance that this was a test to see if you’d actually go through with it. You cleared your throat to sound assertive in your words. “Forgive me, but it’s unprofessional for me to do so. My manager doesn’t allow it..” you placed your hands in front of you, hoping he didn’t have a negative reply to you. There was that chance he’d start yelling at you and making a whole scene.

Wakasa’s expression shifted the moment he heard you. You were good. He wouldn’t care if you sat down, but you were very loyal to your rules and followed orders properly. Though, he didn’t find such a thing inappropriate by any means. He didn’t see you tending to any other tables or customers, so why not? He was also the owner of the club. He wasn’t going to get you into any trouble if you sat with him. If anything, he wanted you there. “Hm.. you seem to follow the rules, which is a good thing.” he took a brief sip of the alcohol in his glass, swallowing it without a second thought. “However, you won’t get in trouble. Kakucho won’t bat an eye with me here, so by all means have a seat. Though, you’re not obligated if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

Your mouth fell slightly agape at his replies. You were certain that this was a test of some kind, but thank god it wasn’t. Now, you were left with two options. Sit with Wakasa, or completely decline the offer and go back to your little corner and be a shy little waitress. Either or sounded great! But, did they really?

This was Wakasa Imaushi of all people. He was actually inviting you to sit down with him. Your coworkers never mentioned him being this polite, so you wondered what his motives were. Maybe you caught him on a good night and he was in a greater mood than usual. It was still a really interesting request, but maybe you could do this just once. He was right about one thing. Kakucho wouldn’t say a single word if he saw you with Wakasa, so you could technically get away with it.

Fuck it.

You pulled your skirt down just a bit, then sat down beside him. Your reason being that you didn’t want the thing riding up when you stood up the next time.

Sitting just a few inches away, Wakasa stared at you with that lazy expression. He smirked briefly then took another swig of his drink. You caught on to the looks he was giving you, and it suddenly made you nervous once again. It felt like he was trying to seduce you with those expressions. The aroma of his expensive cologne intoxicated you. It was quite divine and it made these heat pool from your stomach towards your core. You shouldn’t have been thinking of such things about him, but how could you not? He was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid your eyes upon. You were certain any woman in your position would think the same about him.

Wakasa placed his now empty drinking glass down on the table. He tilted his head to place all of his focus onto you. His eyes drank in the sight of your appearance. You were quite beautiful to the man. The swell of your breasts was briefly exposed through the top of your shirt, and your thighs looked quite nice in the skirt you wore. “Would you like a drink? It’d be my treat!” he raised an eyebrow, placing his elbows onto the table.

Your eyes grew wide at his proposal. There hadn’t been many attractive men to offer you a drink. You usually turned them down due to it being not allowed, but you weren’t really interested in having a drink that night. You were on shift and you had to drive yourself home too. It wouldn’t be a good idea. If it were any other night, you would have said yes. You wondered how many women had the opportunity to receive a drink from Wakasa of all people. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to decline. I have to drive and I’m pretty exhausted, so drinking may not be a great idea. Thank you again, though.” you tried to sound polite, because you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea from you.

Wakasa nodded his head. He completely understood your reasoning. He wouldn’t press that matter any longer, but he would have loved to buy you a drink some time. “Smart girl, I like that.” he reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small rectangular box. It was clearly a pack of cigarettes. “So, how long have you been working here? I’ve never seen you before, and I’d usually notice if there was a pretty woman serving people around here.”

Your heart began to thump rapidly inside of your chest. Was he.. flirting with you?

There was no way he was trying to do that. He probably did that with every woman he encountered to charm them. Sure, you’d take the compliment, but it was quite shocking that he’d be so direct with you. You liked a straightforward man, but this was a lot for you to handle.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that Wakasa was in fact the owner of this club. He had a business and he was extremely respected among the people who came here. As well as your boss and your other coworkers. You would have expected a man who owned such a fine business to be reserved and quiet. That’s how a majority of them were when you encountered them. They were all married or were engaged, so it only made sense for them to never show special attention to other women. However, Wakasa’s ringer finger was completely blank, and he seemed quite young compared to the older gentlemen you would usually see. That didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing anyone, though, but he could have a girlfriend. Though, that made another question appear in your mind. Why flirt if you weren’t single? Maybe he was a cheater? No, there was no way. You were clearly overthinking this.

You also hadn’t been in a relationship for a pretty long time. You had men flirt with you before, but none of them had the same vibe as Wakasa. This was much different than what you’ve ever experienced.

You watched him take out his lighter and ignite the cigarette he held between his lips. Your nose twitched at the scent of the smoke filling your nostrils. “I’ve been here for six months..” you looked down at the table, avoiding his gaze which was set on you.

He shook his head, processing the information you had given him. He was surprised to hear that you had been there for that long. He had never seen your face before. He assumed that you must have been a new hire, but you weren’t. “Oh? Interesting.. has your experience been swell? I’d sure hope so,” he took a hit of his cancer stick, blowing smoke through his nose. “What time are you off the clock, by the way?”

You began to fumble with your fingers. You hated being obviously nervous around him, but you worried about possibly slipping up and saying the wrong thing to Wakasa. Kakucho often reminded you that first impressions meant everything, especially to the man who owned The White Leopard. He also intimidated you. It could sound mean, but his presence scared you more than any other man. It probably had to do with the high amount of superiority he had above you. “It’s been okay! It’s a great job! I like it here a lot..” your eyes flickered from his eyes to your hands. “And.. um, I’m pretty much off when you leave the club? I’m not sure..”

A laugh came from his mouth, which alarmed you. You really hoped that it wasn’t sarcasm. You didn’t mean for it to come out in a rude manner, but what if he took it that way? Oh, shit. You could have completely fucked this entire interaction up. “Ah, I see. Well I’m glad you’re liking this job. I believe fine dime’s like yourself deserve the princess treatment.” he winked, showing off that teasing smirk from prior. “With that being said, I’d like the check, angel.”

A frown settled on your features at the mention of wanting the bill. You figured that meant that he was planning on leaving the club, which was disappointing. In all honesty, you wanted to converse with him a bit more before he’d make his departure. Maybe you thought too much of his nicknames and his words. He was probably just trying to swoon you. “O-Okay! I’ll come right back with that for you!” you then stood up, brushing out any wrinkles from your skirt and leaving the booth. You didn’t notice, but Wakasa had completely eyed your backside from head to toe.

You made your way to the small corner where the register was. Many people were just now entering the club, which made you pray for Yuzuha and Emma who were planning to stay the entire evening. You eventually made it to the tablet and printed out the small bill. It was surprising. He and his friends had only ordered three drinks the entire night. It was almost like they didn’t even enjoy their time there, but you weren’t going to question their sudden need for leaving. It did give you the chance to finally head on home and get some much needed rest. You were exhausted and that familiar ache in your heels was paining you.

Grabbing the receipts, you took a small black pen from the cup next to the tablet. You then began to walk over to the booth where Wakasa was still sitting. This time, he was on his cell phone. He seemed to be typing a text to somebody. He noticed you standing there instantly and lifted his head to pay attention to you. “There you are, angel, thank you.” he said, taking the receipts and the pen from your shaky hands. “You were a doll tonight, thank you for being so great at what you do.”

Your heart fluttered at such a compliment from the man. Not many people would say nice things about your service, so it was reassuring and quite comforting to hear such things every once and a while. “T-Thank you! It means a lot coming from you..” you gave a smile to him, which didn’t feel forced for once tonight.

Wakasa signed the bill, then proceeded to take his wallet out of his pocket. He removed many bills from it, and you were surprised to see that he carried so much cash on him. Once he was done, he placed his wallet back and then stood up to hand you the money. “This is for the drinks..” he handed you one twenty dollar bill. “And this is for you.. have a great night, doll.”

Your eyes went almost as wide as saucers when you saw the amount of cash you had between your fingers. He gave you a tip. A tip that was well over the usual twenty percent that you were used to. He tipped you one hundred and ten dollars. You were about to turn around and protest, but he was gone. There was a single sign of his presence anywhere. You couldn’t believe he had actually given you that much money. This had to be the biggest tip you had ever received in your entire time working at the club. Sometimes, you didn’t even receive the full twenty percent, but this completely blew you away. You were well aware that he tipped his servers pretty nicely, but you didn’t think it was this nice. You didn’t even know how to react.

Coming to your senses, you realized you had a lot of money in your hands. You then walked away from the now empty booth towards the stairs that led to the tablet. It had been a pretty successful evening for you, and you had zero complaints about any of it. Now, it was time for you to head out and go home. You assumed that Kakucho was aware of Wakasa’s dismissal, so you figured your time here was finished for the night.

Once you reached the corner, you cleared his table and closed it out for the night. You couldn’t believe the evening you had, but you surely were excited to tell your friends about it tomorrow when you saw them. It’d be an interesting story to mention.

You were ready to place the receipt into your pocket, but you paused when you noticed there was something written on it. It wasn’t just his signature, but there was other writing on the top of the space. You flipped the piece of paper so you could read it properly. It was surprising that you didn’t notice him writing it down when you saw him sign for the check, but maybe you missed it and looked away at the wrong moment.

“Meet me upstairs in the private rooms. Say I asked for you. I’m in the room all the way in the back on the right. Only come if you’re comfortable <3”

The private rooms.

There had been a few occasions where you had to head up to the private rooms. The only reason for your presence being there was because of high profile businessmen being there for their own pleasure. Nobody was allowed back there except if you were staff, or if you were a part of the group. It was highly guarded by security and they often questioned you whenever you brought drinks back there. Even Kakucho informed you that if you were back there you had to be quick. It was kind of odd at times, because it wasn’t that serious to you, but you were also curious about them.

You never really knew what went on back there, because their conversations were usually very professional and never made sense to you. Hakkai theorized it was all mafia related and The White Leopard was some kind of money laundering scheme, but Yuzuha usually shut that down with a quick smack to his head. You heard from others that it’s where the men came to have sex and indulge in drugs and drinking, but you never really knew.

All you were aware of was that you had been invited back there by Wakasa himself, but what did he want?

The idea of this possibly being a hookup crossed your mind. It made your face warm with embarrassment and it made you nervous. This was a random man, no, this was the man who practically was the reason why you had employment. Sleeping with him sounded like a serious stretch, but could he want that? You didn’t know, but you despised the fact that your brain was telling you to go. Maybe he wanted to have a drink since you were now technically off the clock.

Your eyes scanned the entire club. Your other coworkers seemed completely out of sight, and there was no sign of Kakucho. You decided to go with your gut.

Go and meet with Wakasa.

You clocked out before you left, then made your way towards the corridor that led to the large door that would take you to the private rooms. Your heart beat was through the roof now. You worried that someone had seen you come back there, because you weren’t supposed to be back there without permission. However, you had to relax. You had the receipt with Wakasa’s signature and his note allowing you access to those rooms. If security wanted to make an issue, you had your proof ready for them if they asked for it.

The loud blare of the music began to fade in your ears, and it became much quieter as you entered the hallway. There were two large men standing on either side of the door. The word “private” was written above the door in large bold letters. The two security men noticed your presence and sort of straightened up their posture to seem more intimidating to you. Kind of a lame tactic considering you never really feared them.

You paused when you reached the entrance of the rooms. One of the men’s eyes trailed up your form, then cocked his head to the side. “Can we help you?” he asked, his voice deep.

You swallowed thickly, looking up at the two guards. You prepared yourself to reach for the receipt that was tucked within your waistband. You really hoped that neither of these two would report this to Kakucho. You kinda wanted whatever this was to be somewhat private. It wouldn’t be a good look if someone heard about you meeting up with Wakasa. “W-Wakasa asked for me,” you clasped your hands together in hopes that they would believe your words.

Both security men exchanged glances with one another. The man on the right turned and opened the door. “Right this way,” he held the door slightly ajar for you.

You were quite surprised that it was that easy to get into there. The men didn’t ask for any proof or identification. You would think that if Wakasa was back there, the men would tear you apart with questions. Did he inform them of your possible arrival to the private rooms? You wouldn’t be that shocked, but it seemed a little odd. You didn’t protest, though, because you didn’t want to miss the opportunity to have access to the rooms.

You walked through the door. The atmosphere had a sudden shift when you stepped through the entrance. There was a long hallway with all kinds of rooms on each side. You had been inside of them before, but those encounters never really lasted long. The door behind you shut with a thud, and all you were left with was the soft beat of the song that played through the speakers above you. You were now towards the back of the club, so the only other sound you could hear was the vibration of the other music that played on the main floor. You were nervous. You hoped that you didn’t possibly run into some random person. You chewed on your bottom lip, hoping the best from the situation.

Taking a deep breath, you began slowly walking down the hall.

You passed by many closed doors. Behind them, you could hear the muffled voices of the people who were inside the rooms. You vaguely recalled Wakasa saying he was at the end of the hall on the right. It made you anxious not knowing what might lie behind that door. Wakasa could be messing with you for all you know. You had to try and think positive. Wakasa was a very kind man to you the entire evening. You found it hard to believe that his intentions would be anything but pure with you. Plus, you weren’t alone in this hallway. If there was a problem, you could always just scream your head off until security arrived. You also knew bad vibes. You didn’t receive them when it came to Wakasa of all people.

You paused in your footsteps once you reached the end of the corridor. You lifted your hand to knock on the vanilla colored door.

Knock!

It was noiseless for a moment. You wondered if you were too late by chance, but those thoughts diminished when you heard shuffling from the other side of the door. You prepared yourself for what was to come.

The doorknob jiggled lightly, then it was pulled open. Your eyes focused on the same man you saw just a few minutes prior. Wakasa stood inside the room with that same expression he wore before. Though, that soon shifted when his eyes fixated on you. He smirked when he made eye contact with you. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to arrive within such a short period of time, but he was happy to see you. He was also somewhat relieved that you weren’t uncomfortable with his actions. He hadn’t done such a thing before. He thought for a while you’d toss out the receipt and laugh it off, but he was thankful that wasn’t the case. “Hey, angel, nice to see you here.” he leaned against the doorframe with that same grin. “Come inside..”

Goosebumps flared onto your skin at how sultry his tone was. He sounded sort of flirty, but you had to keep your composure straight. You nodded your head and advanced forward into the same room Wakasa was in.

The room was quite large and spacious. There was a lengthy couch that stretched along the wall and a coffee table that sat directly in the center of the room. A cup of whisky was the only item that was on the glass. The lights were quite dim and the same soft music played through the speakers. There was a faint odor of cigarettes that lingered through the air as well. You assumed he had been smoking since he had a pack with him much earlier in the night. Wakasa was the only person in the room. You were half expecting Shinichiro and Benkei to be there, but they were still nowhere to be found. You had assumed they were somewhere in the club still.

Your ears perked when the door was shut behind you. Wakasa had then shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. You noticed that his tie was now somewhat loosened, and his sleeves were still rolled up. God, he was so handsome. He had to be straight from heaven itself.

Wakasa walked past you to the chocolate brown couch that was beside you. He plopped down, allowing the ponytail behind his head to swing from the motion. He lifted his glass that contained his whisky. “Feel free to have a seat, doll. No need to be tense,” he took a sip of the alcohol, then swirled the glass around which made the ice cubes clink against it.

You nodded, then walked over to the couch he was sitting on. You decided to sit right beside him. You began to grow curious as to what he called you in there for. There were many possibilities swirling inside your mind, but none of them could be decided. He seemed just as casual as he was before when he was sitting inside the booth. Though, this time, there seemed to be a shift in the air. It was like there was some kind of tension circling within the two of you. You didn’t know what the reason was for it, but maybe he read your thoughts when you were sitting with him. Did he know you thought he was attractive? There was no way. You played it very casually and quite proper. “So.. um, what did you want to talk about? I was just wondering since these rooms are private..” you crossed your legs, trying to get comfortable on the leather couch.

Wakasa shifted his gaze onto where you were sitting. Those familiar feelings from before began to creep up onto you once again. He had these seductive eyes that made your thighs squeeze together. “You piqued my interest.. and I think you’re a very beautiful woman. I could hardly keep my eyes off of you the entire night..” he maintained eye contact with you, causing your body to heat up once again.

A shiver ghosted down your spine. The atmosphere suddenly changed once again, and it was beginning to feel intense. It was blatantly obvious that Wakasa was flirting with you, and hard. Your body was screaming for you to just lean in and let this man have you, but Wakasa was practically your boss. He owned that club and what would happen if you two slept together? If that kind of secret were to slip through the cracks, you could possibly lose your job and it wouldn’t do so well for your reputation and Wakasa’s. You knew what he wanted to do, but could you even bring yourself to agree? Sure, you were more than welcome to hooking up, but would he keep it a secret? He could gladly expose you if he wanted to.

You turned your body so you were now facing him. His eyes kept leaving your face and focusing on random parts of your body. He was so captivated by your beauty that he had no idea where to stare. “Wakasa.. I think you’re handsome as well.. but how can I trust you? I could get into serious trouble and I don’t think I want this to be public knowledge..” you sounded very concerned, which worried Wakasa. He wasn’t trying to sound pushy with you whatsoever.

He understood your concerns completely. You were right in some aspects. If he spoke about it, you could deal with serious consequences and he didn’t want to be responsible for you being possibly fired. He wanted good things for you, not bad ones. Wakasa wanted to assure you that he could be trusted. He’d never place you in such a position. “(Y/N).. you won’t lose your job while I’m here. I would never share such personal details either.. you can trust me.” he reached over and held your hand, brushing his thumb over your smooth skin. “I promise, doll.”

His tone seemed rather trusting and sincere from your view. You also wouldn’t get an experience like this ever again, so you shook your head. You knew you were about to indulge in something that you couldn’t go back from, but his presence alone was making your body buzz with excitement and need. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you gave his hand a firm squeeze to assert yourself.

He was happy to hear that you were willing to put your faith into him. He then patted the spot on his lap for you to take a seat on. “Come here..” he motioned for you to come towards him, to which you gladly obliged.

You maneuvered yourself onto Wakasa’s thighs, placing your arms around his neck. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t nervous to be on him like that. His body was so warm against your own and his muscles were so well defined underneath his dress shirt. You could hardly look at him without feeling flustered. This was honestly hard to believe. You were about to have sex with Wakasa Imaushi. If this was a dream, you were praying to god that you wouldn’t wake up before you got to the good part. He was so attractive up close. His features were flawless and quite dreamy. How could a man like this not have a woman by his side? He was better than you ever imagined him to be.

One of his hands rested around your waist while the other was placed against your thigh. He began to trail up your leg, leaving sparks to snap against your delicate skin. He then began to kiss your neck. His lips were smooth and the pecks were quite soft. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart when you felt his hand trailing closer towards your center. Wakasa hadn’t expected you to become so needy that fast, but he didn’t have a problem with that at all.

He nipped at your sweet spot, causing a whimper to escape your throat. Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you made those lewd noises because of him. “You like that, baby..?” he asked in a low tone. “If you ever want me to stop.. just say the word..”

Your grip on his shirt tightened at every minuscule touch of his fingers. Butterflies swarmed inside your belly from his Impact on you. You weren’t sure if it was because of your lack of touch since having a boyfriend, but you were like putty in his hands. “Don’t stop..” you sounded breathless when his hand reached your clothed clit.

Wakasa grinned devilishly when he made contact with the damp spot that had formed on your panties. He had barely done a single thing and your underwear was already a dripping mess. It made him so fucking hard at the thought. He used his other hand to bring your lips down onto his. The kiss you shared was firey and full of passion and desire. It started off fairly slow. He thought your lips were smooth like honey. He could hardly get enough of the strawberry chapstick you wore on them. You shuddered when the tips of his fingers touched your cunt. He began to draw small circles onto it, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You moaned into the kiss, allowing Wakasa to swallow it.

His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, to which you granted him access to your mouth. He darted into it and deepened the kiss even more this time. You were such a great kisser. He knew those pretty lips would have gone to good use the moment his eyes landed on them. Everything about you was ethereal. He hadn’t felt such excitement in forever.

Wakasa pulled your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to him. He smirked when he made contact with the sticky arousal that coated your clit. You were a fucking delight down there. He wanted to taste you so fucking badly. Eat you out until you cried his name so everyone in the damn club heard who was making you feel like you were on cloud nine, but he was too far into it to do so. He wanted to make you feel good, of course, but for now he wanted to use just his fingers to make that happen. The thoughts he had were unlike no other. It was almost as if you casted a spell on him, because he just couldn’t get enough of you. “Heh.. what a mess you are, baby. This pretty pussy is calling for me, yeah? You want my fingers in you, princess?” he looked into your eyes as he spoke to you.

You nodded your head, twirling a few strands of his hair around your fingers. You were slipping right through the cracks. He was driving you up the wall from only one simple thing, but you needed him more than anything else. “Y-Yes.. Wakasa! I need you..” you whined, moving your hips towards his digits which were right near your hole.

Wakasa sunk one of his fingers into your dripping hole. A gasp filled his ears once he was fully inside of you. You were so tight. He could hardly move his finger around, and not to mention, you were so wet. He could tell that your pussy was quite divine and he honestly couldn’t wait to fuck you with his cock instead. He then began to finger you at a decently fast pace. You were squirming and jerking around underneath him. Even though it was just one, you still felt so full and your body was heating up quicker than you expected. He was talented with those hands of his. His finger twisted and curled around your sweet hole to find that one spot he knew would send you to the moon.

Wakasa used his hand to maneuver your body around. He wanted an even greater access to you, so he adjusted your seating to where your back was now against his chest. This in turn made you place both of your feet onto the couch, so you were spread completely open for him. Wakasa bit the inside of cheek, his mouth watering at the thought of how gorgeous you looked right now. He wanted to see what that pretty cunt of yours looked like. He then kept pumping his finger into you. Your hand went to wrap around his wrist. It was so good. You hadn’t felt such a thing in a long time. His fingers were much different than your own, and he was doing everything to make you fall apart. You shivered even more when you felt his cock completely hardened against your ass. He had to be big, judging by the print that you could feel.

He brought his free hand to wrap around your throat. He pushed you backwards so your head was now against his shoulder. His breath tickled against the shell of your ear. “Look at you.. being so obedient for me..” he gave it a squeeze, causing your eyes to roll back from the pleasure. “So perfect for me.. yeah? Say my name, baby..”

You let out a whine when his pumps only quickened inside of you. He had found that button and he could tell by the way your body was reacting to his motions against it. Your vision blurred with every movement of his fingers, and you started to grow louder. “W-Wakasa..! Right there! Please!” you gripped his wrist tightly as he fingered you relentlessly. Your pussy squelched and squealed from how soaked you were. Wakasa found that to be the hottest thing he had ever heard. A pretty woman with her pussy dripping just for him? He honestly thought of you as an angel, just for him.

Wakasa didn’t understand how you weren’t with another man. You were so gorgeous and your body had to be a work of art. Normally, women as stunning as you were swept off your feet the moment you came into a man’s view. If it were Wakasa, he would have made you his without a second thought. He’d treat you so right. He would give you it all. He knew it might sound silly because this was indeed his first encounter with you, but you did something to him that no other woman had done before. He couldn’t wait to get the real show started with you. He wanted to show you how a man did things with another woman.

He brushed his thumb over your swollen clit. His other hand moved to fumble with your breast. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from them the entire evening. He wanted to honestly pull your bra down and suck on your pretty nipples. “Such a perfect little body you have, angel.” he began to draw circles on your puffy clit. “Can’t wait to fuck you.. bet you’re so warm and tight..”

You bucked your hips towards his finger, feeling your orgasm approaching you. He got off on how desperate you were for his touch. Your walls began to flutter around his finger and slowly trap him in. He wasn’t ready to bring you to your peak yet, so he removed his finger from your cunt. A whine slipped from your lips at his sudden retraction. You were so close. Teasing you made you go crazy. You desired Wakasa more than anything and him being an ass wasn’t helping your case. “W-Waka..!” you tried bringing his hand towards your throbbing cunt, but he remained stiff and didn’t let you move him. He wasn’t going to give in that easily.

He trailed his large hands along your body, exploring every curvature and crevice of your flesh. He left a small wet kiss on the spot underneath your ear. You were so whiny and cute it made his cock twitch inside of his dress pants. “I wanna try something with you, princess..” he cooed into your ear. “But only if you want it.. otherwise, we can move forward..”

Curiosity coursed through your veins at his mention of something new. You had experimented with many things with many different guys, but you had yet to try everything. Wakasa could have anything up his sleeve, which made you wonder more as to what this could be. It only made you more excited. You turned your head to make eye contact with the man who was sitting behind you. His purple eyes were now blown with lust, which made his pupils quite large. “W-What is it..?” you questioned, your eyes flickering from his eyes to his pretty lips you wished you had on you once again.

Wakasa reached towards the black tie that was loosened around the collar of his shirt. He untied it and pulled it off of him. Your eyes grew wide when you realized what he wanted to do. You have seen plenty of erotic videos where a man would use a tie for a specific purpose. Whether it was using it to restrain them, or using it as a blindfold, they were used for pretty kinky things. You hadn’t had one used on you before. It’d be a completely new experience. The thought alone turned you on, a lot. Though, it did somewhat make you nervous because of your inexperience with the clothing item. This could go wrong, but that was a risk you were willing to take with the man before you. You were certain that Wakasa would never put you in a situation where you could get hurt.

He lifted his tie in his hand up to your level. He could already imagine you with his tie on your body. Fuck, that’d be a sight. You were already gorgeous enough, so you’d look even more sexy with it on. “I want to use it as a blindfold.. I won’t progress without your consent, so if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” he sounded sincere and quite sweet in your opinion. You thought it was considerate of him to think of your feelings in the matter. Not many men were like that.

You felt comfortable with him enough for him to use the blindfold on you. He did mention that if you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say the word. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you nodded, looking into his pretty eyes.

He smiled at you, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. He then unrolled his tie, taking both ends into his hands. You then watched him place the tie over your eyes. Your vision went completely dark and you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you. Wakasa used both ends of the tie to form a knot so it would stay nice and firm behind your head. A shaky breath left your lips. You had no idea where he was going to move next, or what he was planning on doing now. Judging by how fast he seemed to be moving, you could only assume that he was preparing to fuck you. The images flashed inside your brain, making that heat form in your belly.

The man behind you then began to move you around. Wakasa placed your head down, so you were now lying down on the couch. He began to undo the buttons of your blouse, exposing your bra that held your breasts. It took everything inside him to not completely ravage your pretty mounds. He then moved downward and began to tug at your skirt. He pulled the piece of fabric down your thighs, then towards your calves where it slipped off of your ankles. Wakasa’s eyes fixated on your pussy that was still as wet as before. He was right. Your cunt was so perfect and the sight of it made his mouth water with saliva. He began to ponder on the taste. He bet you were sweet and savory. He thought you had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He’d have to taste you some time. There was no way he was going to let you walk away without giving him a small taste.

Wakasa pulled your panties off of your body, tossing them onto the floor beside him. He then began to unbuckle his belt, which made you shiver. You couldn’t see what he was hiding underneath those pants of his. Anticipation bubbled inside your belly at the thought of what his cock was going to feel like. He removed his pants, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxers. He could finally breathe. It felt like he had been suffocated from how tight they felt around his waist. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, to which he wiped off with the pad of his thumb.

His fingers trailed down the skin of your waist, then towards your hips. The lack of eyesight made your emotions all the more heightened. You were much more sensitive now. It was no surprise to Wakasa when you twitched at his minor touches. What a pretty baby you were. “Heh, don’t you worry, princess. I promise to be gentle with you..” he winked, tossing his white shirt onto the table beside you both.

He then positioned himself at your entrance. The pinkish tip brushed along your folds, earning a moan from both of you. Your pussy was so wet. It didn’t take much for Wakasa to push himself inside of you. He grunted loudly when he felt your delicious walls clamping around his cock. He couldn’t believe you felt that amazing. It made him question where you’ve been all his life. You squirmed at the sensation of his cock splitting your cunt apart. He was big. Wakasa searched your expression for any signs of discomfort or hesitation, but all he saw was your jaw wide open from his cock pushing inside of you. He took that as a good sign, and began to slowly rut his hips into you. He could hardly keep himself composed. You were squeezing his cock so perfectly that he swore you were made to take him.

Wakasa began to pick up his pace. Your hands began to run down your body, taking a hold of your breast. The thrill of using a blindfold was making the sex even greater than it would without it. You had no idea what he might do next, and that’s what excited you. “Wakasa..! Fuck.. you’re so good..” you whimpered, arching your back upwards from the pleasure you were receiving.

He liked hearing his name slip from your tongue like that. He could listen to your sweet voice all fucking day. Scratch that, he could fuck you all day and never get tired. There was so much to like about you. To think, just a little while ago you were serving him drinks and being a pretty little waitress for him. He disliked that Shinichiro stared at you a little longer than he would have preferred, but that idea was shut down the moment you made eye contact with Wakasa. “Yeah..? Look at you.. being so good for me, baby. You take me – shit! – so fuckin’ nicely..” he pried your legs apart further, placing them around his waist to reach into you more.

He was unable to see it, but your eyes rolled backwards behind your lids from the new angle he reached. He reached your g-spot instantly, sending deep waves of pleasure to crash along your body. This man must have known the female body much better than any other guy on this planet. He knew exactly what he was doing to make you see stars in your vision.

Wakasa gritted his teeth at your walls, shuddering and twitching around his dick. He hated sounding so possessive, but he wanted you all to himself. He knew you didn’t belong to him and you both just met one another, but the idea of another man getting their hands on you made him green with envy. You were too good for these shitty men he knew in the world. They didn’t deserve such a kind woman, nor did they deserve the chance to fuck your perfect pussy. He wanted to be the only one to fuck you in such a manner. His dick should be the only one you thought about. It only made him want to fuck you harder and better. God, what the fuck did you do to him? Wakasa never believed in being tied down to one person, but you.. you had completely shifted his opinion on the subject. You were a little devil.

He used his hand to grip your throat. He gave it a harsh squeeze, which made your mind feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He leaned towards your ear. His deep breaths filled your ears, arousing you from how harsh they were. “Gonna make this pussy all mine, angel..” he purred. “You wanna – fuck – be mine, baby? Never gonna share you again.. I’ll give you i-it all!”

His thrusts grew more aggressive, sending you over the edge with your mind becoming foggy with euphoria. He sounded so menacing and it made you so turned on. It stunned you, though. Wakasa wanted to keep you all to himself, yet he barely knew you. To be honest, you didn’t oppose that idea whatsoever. The thought of being Wakasa’s was not a bad one. “Y-Yes..!” you managed to choke out, considering you weren’t able to allow much air into your lungs from how tight his hold was on your throat.

A chuckle rumbled in his throat at your reply. You were his little masochist and he couldn’t wait to see what else you were capable of. He couldn’t hide that smirk that appeared on his face when you said yes. He’d make you see that you would never regret such a decision to be his. “That’s right.. good girl, baby.” he released your throat, allowing you to inhale a breath. “Wanna see me fuck you, princess..? ‘Wanna see those pretty e-eyes look at me..”

You nodded your head vigorously. You craved nothing more than to see his handsome face above you. Wakasa then slowed his thrusts and reached forward to pull the black blindfold down and away from your eyes. You squinted a little from the sudden rays of light that filled your vision, but your eyes then focused on the man who was fucking you. Wakasa looked so good hovering over your body. His ponytail was slightly messy and a few strands of his hair were clinging to his forehead from the sweat that formed on his skin. He was giving you a flirty smile that made your face burn. You wished you got to see him the entire time, but you were glad you got the chance to see him now.

Your hands went to rest on his muscular shoulders. His physique was quite nice and attractive. You couldn’t believe a man this handsome was fucking your brains out on a couch. “Wakasa! Fuck.. love your cock..” you made eye contact with him. Your desperate hues made him twitch inside of you. You were so so beautiful looking at him like that.

He loved the sound of that. He then had an idea flow into his brain. He had done it before with other women, but he wanted to try it with you. He thought it’d be a nice way to remember this evening you two had with one another. Wakasa slowed his ruts and came to a complete stop, which made you somewhat upset. You thought it was unfair, because you were coming close to that delicious high that you craved more than anything else. The man then reached over to the glass coffee table that was right beside the couch. He pulled his phone off of the table and stared down at you with foggy eyes. He was breathing quite heavily and seemed almost as needy as you were. “I wanna record you..” he moved around inside your cunt, earning a cry of pleasure from your mouth. “Only if you want.. baby.”

Being recorded? That was something you were completely new to. You had sent naked photographs and videos of yourself before, but to have a sexual encounter recorded? That was quite lewd and it was different. You worried the video might be shared with other people. You didn’t dislike the idea or anything, but your private business with Wakasa should remain behind closed doors.

You shifted around underneath him. You were getting close to your orgasm, and you wanted to finish already. “I’ll only allow it if you promise to never share it..” you took his free hand into yours, placing it on your body. “Promise.. Waka?”

Wakasa heard your concerns loud and clear. There were many assholes out there that often betrayed the trust of their significant others by sharing those videos with others, but Wakasa wasn’t one of them. He’d never share something that intimate without your permission. He also didn’t want anyone else to see your body. He was the only person who should be able to see the private areas of you. “I promise, angel. You won’t have to worry..” he rubbed your belly with his hand softly to reassure you.

You then gave him the nod to keep going. He started to pick up that similar pace he had prior. His tip kissed your g-spot, making your brain turn fuzzy each time he pressed against it. Your walls were beginning to spasm and close around his cock, earning several grunts from the man above you who looked fucking gorgeous. He was well aware that you were close. Heh, maybe he’d get your pretty orgasm on camera while he recorded you. He’d never stop viewing that video if that were the case.

Wakasa used his thumb to swipe over to the camera. His grip wasn’t the firmest, considering he was fucking the shit out of you, but he eventually was able to begin taping the scene in front of him. The flash appeared within the blink of an eye, and you realized you were being recorded. He grinned when your pussy quivered around him. You must have liked being on camera like that. He pushed your legs somewhat further apart to let the camera get a glance of his cock pushing your cunt apart. “Heh.. would you look at that, baby. You suck me in so fuckin’ nicely..” he cooed, shifting his gaze onto you. “You like being taped, hm..? ‘Can feel you getting nice and tight now..”

His thumb swirled around your clit. The familiar knot in your belly was tightening with every motion of his hips. Wakasa gritted his teeth at how so fucking great he felt. He had begun to increase his assault on your cunt, allowing your cries to become much louder than before. Your volume was so high that it was likely that whoever was down this hallway heard you moaning for Wakasa. Neither of you gave much care to that fact. What were they going to do? Come to the club owner himself and argue over it? Fat chance.

Wakasa groaned deeply when your pussy began to squeeze the life out of his cock. Your high had finally washed over you, making your thighs tremble from the affects. He was most thrilled to know that he had caught the entire thing on video. Your pretty voice calling out his name so loudly that he was sure you would have lost your voice from the high pitch. A creamy white ring surrounded his cock. You were a mess on him and the couch you were both fucking on. That was all he really needed in the department of recording you, because now it was his turn to reach his orgasm. “Fuck.. so good.. such a good girl, baby.” he then pressed the button on his phone, ending the recording and tossing it somewhere onto the floor.

Your eyes were hazy and your body was still reeling in the affects of your climax. You felt as if you were on fire and Wakasa was the gasoline making that spark more intense. “Wakasa! N-Need you..” you whined. “Ah..!”

Those words brought a nice smile to the man’s face. The feeling was honestly mutual. He needed you just as much as you needed him. He would give you whatever you desired. “Yeah..? Don’t worry, doll. I’ll give you everything..” he leaned down, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your swollen lips. “Where do you – fuck! – want my cum, baby?”

Although the words processed quite slowly into your brain, you wondered what would be the most fun. He could always leave his cum right on your face or on your pretty tits. That also proposed the idea of him taking a photo of it and saving it on his cell phone. Either option turned you on, but the other one made your clit throb. Wakasa filling you up crossed your mind and it was such an erotic idea. He was already opening your doors to new things like using a blindfold and recording, so why not let him cum inside you just this once? It would be nice, and you hadn’t experienced such a feeling in a long time.

Your arms went to wrap around his neck, bringing his face towards yours. Those lazy eyes of his stared right into your fucked out ones. He could get lost within them if he stared for too long. “Inside.. please..” you sounded so desperate that Wakasa could have cum right then and there. He knew you were into things, but that? That was quite a surprise.

But, who was he to deny your such filthy desires? He’d grant them any day he so pleased.

Wakasa began to rut his hips at that same fast pace from before. Your familiar cries returned, filling his ears like they were a song he could never get tired of. His cock began to twitch inside of you and his grip on your body was firm. He would grant you that need of wanting his cum inside you. He could only imagine what it would look like when his seed leaked out of your hole. It only made him more encouraged to keep going. He was so close. “Shit.. shit.. fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.. ‘gonna fill this pretty pussy..” he looked down at you as he spoke.

With one last thrust, he hissed as his high hit him like a truck. His cock twitched and his balls that were slapping against your clit tightened up, allowing his cum to fill into your womb. It was quite thick and warm, sending shivers along your body from how it made you feel. Wakasa’s grip on your hip must have been tight enough to leave marks. He didn’t dare move in fear that the mess inside of you would possibly seep out, so he decided to sit there for a brief moment. Your nails drew small circles onto his shoulder, trying to recover from the affects of being completely and utterly fucked out. You weren’t sure how long you had been at it, but it must have been quite late in the evening.

Both of you were quite messy. There were many loose strands falling out of Wakasa’s once neat ponytail, and sweat dripped down his tattooed body. He still had that dreamy aura attached to him even though he looked quite exhausted.

After several moments of silence, Wakasa pulled out of your tired cunt. Some of his cum had escaped and began to trickle down from your pussy to your ass. He thought it was one of the sexiest things he had laid his eyes upon. His cum coming out of you. What a delicious sight. Reality then dawned on him, he had another event to attend for the evening and he couldn’t remain at the club for longer than he would have desired. He had to also find out where Shinichiro and Benkei had gone. He had so much fun with you. The experience he had with you was exhilarating and nothing like he had felt before. He doubted he’d find that similar feeling with another woman.

Wakasa leaned towards the floor and grabbed his pants. You watched him begin to redress himself and you figured you would do the same thing. That familiar tires feeling you had earlier in the night had returned. The sex you had only made you more exhausted than you originally were.

He finished up much quicker than you and now he was standing by the door. He decided to say one more thing before he made his exit. As much as he wanted to just go home, duty called. “Have a good night, (Y/N). I hope to see you again.” he gave you a flirty smile, then exited the private room so you were now completely on your own.

You fixed your skirt and buttoned up your top. You looked down at the coffee table that was directly in front of you. Your eyes fixated on a random napkin that was folded up beside Wakasa’s empty whisky glass. You reached forward and unfolded the napkin. A smile made its way to your features when you read what was written in ink on it.

“Call me sometime, I’d love to see you again ♡- Wakasa aka Mr.Imaushi”

#summer speaks #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #wakasa imaushi #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa imaushi smut #wakasa imaushi x you #wakasa #wakasa smut #wakasa x reader #wakasa x you #wakasa x y/n #anime fanfiction #anime fanfic

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writermai05 · 6 months

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Arsonist's Lullabye

Prologue: All you have is your fire

Summary: Zuko’s bad day gets a bit better after an encounter with an unfamiliar face.

Pairing: zuko x fem! reader (Live Action or Animated)

A/N: I am delusional, and when I had the idea for a zuko x reader modern AU where he works in Iroh’s boba tea shop, I had to follow through with said idea. Let’s see if this goes anywhere, and feel free to leave comments or suggestions on how the fic could play out maybe :)

Word Count: 773

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot. This is a modern AU that takes place in the avatar world. Bending still exists. Zuko and the gaang are in college in this series !!

TW!: Physical abuse, burns, Ozai in general, Zuko’s backstory is so sad.

Zuko knew it was going to be a long day as soon as he opened the shop at 12pm.

Within the first two hours, he had run out of tapioca pearls, dropped a container filled with matcha on the floor (which by the way, was a pain in the ass to clean up,) and slipped on the floors he had just mopped. Perhaps he was just born unlucky. Perhaps, most people in life didn’t have to struggle the way that he was, the way that he always had. It wasn’t all bad. He was lucky enough to be here, working in his uncle’s tea shop in the Earth Kingdom, rather than in his father’s company back in the Fire Nation.

The Jasmine Dragon was beloved by many. People from all over the city came to have some of the shops' amazing teas and pastries. It wasn’t too busy, having only three people come in today. perhaps because school at the University of Ba Sing Se hadn’t quite started up yet, outside of the students who had moved in early. The shop was particularly chilly today, but the atmosphere managed to maintain the same warm and cozy feeling, with the dim atmospheric lighting and the sage and emerald hued furniture. Zuko had a second to just relax in the stillness.

He appreciated these quiet moments the most. The moments where he could stop worrying about the shop, and overthinking the worst things he had ever done in his life. Such as when he lashed out at his uncle, multiple times, or about the people he had bullied in high school. He was almost able to forget it all. Forget the fact that his younger sister, Azula, was still stuck in a house with his abusive father, or even forget the feeling of his father’s hand, burning the flesh of his face, leaving a scar in its wake, as well as a near complete blindness in his left eye. His demons may be restless, but boy did Zuko keep them on a tight leash.

Zuko’s reverie was broken by the sound of the door’s bell chime. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts, waiting patiently for his assistance to be needed.

“Um, excuse me,”

A girl, who seemed to be around his age, was standing right in front of him. She wore a navy blue dress with a pale blue lining and detailing around the edges. A belt of the same color was around her waist, with a brown leather cord connecting a bag onto her hip. Her black jacket was cropped to about rib length, with brown leather cords fastening it closed, as well as matching black pants and brown boots.

“This is my first time here…Is there anything that you’d recommend?” She asked politely.

There was something about the way her kind eyes twinkled in the orange lighting that made Zuko fluster. He cleared his throat before opening his mouth to talk.

“Well, Lychee juice is a customer favorite. But personally, my Uncle Iroh’s jasmine green tea is the best in Ba Sing Se.”

“The best in Ba sing Se?” She raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

“The best.” he nodded.

“I’ll take it.” She said, reaching to the tote bag slung over her shoulder. Zuko interrupted her actions with the wave of his hand.

Zuko shook his head. “Don’t worry, It’s on me.” he said, as he began punching numbers, into the register.

“Oh no! I can’t let you do that-” She protested.

He shrugged, a blush beginning to warm his cheeks. “For a first time customer.”

“Thank you so much…” She trailed off, waiting for him to tell her his name.

“Zuko.”

“Zuko. I’ll be sure to come by again. And I fully intend on paying that time.” She said with a playful glare.

The boy smiled slightly.

“Your tea will be ready shortly.”

Zuko had Iroh bring the tea over to the girl. He wasn’t confident in his ability to steadily bring the tray of hot tea without causing more burns to cover his body. The older man made sure to give the girl a complimentary fruit tart to enjoy, but not before looking at his nephew with a teasing glint in his eyes. Zuko groaned.

“Not a word, uncle.” He said as he walked through the staff doors into the shops’ kitchen.

After about 20 minutes had passed, Iroh came into the kitchen, clutching what looked like a napkin and some paper Yuan bills.

“Zuko! The girl left this on her table after she left!”

Zuko carefully took the napkin from his uncle’s hand, reading the message.

“Thanks for the tea! - y/n.”

#arsonist's lullabye #atla #atla live action #atla netflix #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #atla x reader #prince zuko imagine #modern au #college au #aang #katara #sokka #toph #zuko

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cloudsmateria · 7 months

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leon kennedy x reader / college au

summary: you and your best friend leon had gone off to university, too busy to see each other for the longest time you'd both been away. you eventually find the time to meet up, getting drunk and acting on some building up feelings :3

warnings: start of a smut, alcohol, not proof read idk its kind of a shit ramble that i didn't put much cohesive effort into but it's quite cute so i posted it

anyway, i’ll probably do the smut in p2

words: 2.7k

It had been a month since you last saw Leon. Ever since you started law school, and he got into his cop training program both of your schedules had been stacked, despite you both still living in the same city the 45-minute commute to each other's homes was too much. As your best friend, you both managed to call each other every other night, confiding about whatever stupid experiences you both had in your new lives.

Tonight, you finally were able to agree on him coming to your apartment tonight, as you finally managed to get all work out of the way to have a fully free weekend off. You didn't realise how excited you were for his arrival until he texted you he was at the door. You sprinted through the halls and threw the door open.

"Leon!" You shout, jumping onto him and wrapping your arms around him.

"Y/n." He smiled, hugging you back.

“I haven’t seen you in way too long.”

“We saw each other on Facetime last night.” You finally pull away with a smile.

“You won’t even let me have a moment to be sweet.”

“It weirds me out, you're impossible to take seriously.” He rolls his eyes in response as he walks into your apartment, falling onto your couch, you sit next to him, kicking your legs up and leaning your head against his shoulder. “Did you wanna order takeout?”

“I wanted to go out. Haven’t left my apartment to explore the city since I joined the training academy. But we’ll just stay in here for a few minutes, catch me up, then we can go outside and do dumb shit.”

“Catch you up on what?” You laughed. “You’ve been my virtual therapist for the past month. Let’s talk about you. Show me what you learnt in your training or something, entertain me.”

“You’re right, you’ve talked too much, your voice gives me a headache.” You slap his chest and he lets out a light laugh, grabbing your wrists and pulling you over him to lay on his chest. “Get comfortable first, it’s long.”

“Doubt it.”

“You have it easy. This training is just as physically draining as it is mentally.”

“It shows. You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.” You say, tracing your finger up his arm that has noticeably grown in size, and he’s already been going gym since he was 15.

He laughs. “You must've missed me bad, I’ve never seen you this nice.”

“What’s the training like?”

“I’m at the top of the class right now but the coaches are fucking evil, 4 people have already left.” He rambles on about the jarring people he’s met and the few friends that he’s made until the story is over and he gets up regretfully as he loses the weight of your body on top of him. You go into your room to change as you are still in pyjamas, getting into a skirt with a baggy sweater you wore a little too much.

“Is that my jumper?” Leon asked as you walked out. “Is it? I've had it for ages." He steps closer and snorts when he gets a closer look, flipping the back to see the label.

"You stole this from me last year."

"You mean I borrowed it indefinitely."

"I could arrest you."

"I'd like to see you try your best, trainee. It looks better on me anyway, finders keepers."

"What if I took it back off you?"

"You'd have to catch me first."

"I'm pretty fast."

"Not as fast as me." You grin before pushing him and sprinting out of your apartment, the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you.

"You think you can lose me?!" He taunted.

"I've done it before!" You shout back, running down the stairs of the apartment complex, and out into the streets, almost losing your breath from how much you were laughing. Suddenly, he sped up to an ungodly speed, picking you up when he caught up and throwing you over his shoulder. "Oh my god! What do they feed you in training?!" You yell, slapping his back.

"Mostly protein." He says, sarcastically.

"Are you gonna put me down or carry me around the city like a caveman?"

"I’ll drop you."

"Don't even joke about that." He laughs.

"Fine, fine, I won't." He puts you down and you both start walking around the city, looking for a corner store to get into.

"Let’s get wasted." You say, pointing to a small corner store.

"You’re so irresponsible." He said, going into the store and coming back out with soda and a bottle of vodka, he popped it open instantly when he came out, taking in a mouthful without wincing, passing it over to you straight after as you both walked down the street.

"I found this nice spot, it's 5 minutes from here."

"You didn't tell me about this when we were on Facetime."

"I was hoping to show you in person, I haven't told anyone else about it." You say, taking a mouthful of the burning liquid, coughing slightly, and passing it back over.

"Well, lead the way."

After a few minutes, you were standing on the roof of an abandoned, bordered car park with a pretty view of the river that ran through the city. You already had a wooden bench up there that you took as someone left it on the side of the road.

"How did you find this?" Leon asks.

"I just went on a walk one day and saw the entrance was bordered up and decided to explore, no-one ever comes up here." You said, leaning against the rails. "How much have we drank?"

"About a quarter of the bottle. Do you want more?" He asked.

"Yeah." He passes it over to you. "Do you remember the time we broke into that abandoned hospital near our high school?"

"And you freaked out when you thought that fake skeleton was real.."

"You're never gonna let that go are you?"

"We had to climb out of the window and I had to catch you before you fell to your death. Of course, I'm not going to let it go, you owe me."

"What do you want then? A drink?”

"I can pay for my own drinks and I just paid for yours." He said signalling to the bottle in your hand.

"You get to continue to enjoy my lovely company, that's all I owe you."

"Good enough." He sighed, taking a swig. The both of you sit around, both of you talking each other's ears off until he makes a suggestion.

"We should play a game."

"What's the game?"

"Truth or dare."

"Yes! I don't remember the last time we played this. Truth."

"Any crushes yet?"

"Honestly, not really. There are some cute guys in my uni but I'm just too busy with work. Truth or Dare."

"Dare."

"I dare you to finish the bottle."

"No problem." He said, finishing the bottle, and dropping it on the ground. You laughed at him, knowing he's going to be out of his mind later.

“You’ve been going to too many parties.” You say, watching in astonishment. “This is definitely some pretence for a future alcohol problem.”

“You’re gonna be the reason for my future alcoholism.”

“To be fair you are the type to become an alcoholic over a girl.”

“You’re that girl. You’re the most annoying thing in my life and I can’t get rid of you.”

You hit his arm.

“You hit me too. Can’t get worse.” You roll your eyes with a smile.

“Seriously, you got anything going on with any girls?” You ask, feeling a bit of tension rise. He gives you a knowing grin. “Because I love gossip, don’t get any ideas.”

“Yeah, her name is Sienna. Funny girl, might ask her out soon.” You nod, questionably annoyed. “I’m joking. God. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, got something you wanna tell me?”

“The alcohol is just hitting.” You say. “Don’t get so full of yourself. You know I wouldn’t get with you if you were the last man on earth.”

“Yeah, right.” He smiles amusedly, a plan in mind. “Truth or dare, y/n?”

"Dare."

"Kiss me." Your heart stops.

"I'm not kissing you."

"You have to."

“Do I?”

“Never took you for a girl who’d pussy out on a dare.”

You sigh.

"You have some sick satisfaction out of tormenting me." You say, standing up and straddling his thighs. Fuck. You can feel the thick muscles of his shoulders as you rest your hands upon them.

"You have no idea." You stare at him with a small frown.

"You're so lucky I'm drunk." You lean in slowly, feeling his fingers trace over your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. You're just a few centimetres away from his lips, your lips parting, your heart thumping, his gaze dropping down to your lips. Suddenly, you hear him quietly laugh as you start to close your eyes.

"I'm not actually going to kiss you." He says.

"What?"

"You don't have to kiss me, it was a joke."

"Oh god." You sigh, faceplanting into his shoulder.

"You're so cute." He snorts, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I think you’re the one who’s gonna make me an alcoholic." You mumble.

“Come on, let’s go back to your apartment before you jump off the railings.” He says, letting you get off.

"You're evil." You say once you get to the ground.

"And you're so gullible. How is someone supposed to not take advantage of that?"

"Now you’re showing your true colours, you’re going to regret saying that." You say as menacing as you can, before tripping up from how tipsy you were, just for him to grab the back of your sweater to keep you upright.

"Keep threatening me, I love it."

“Freaky bastard.”

“You have no idea.” He says, grabbing your hand to speed you up for you to trip again, he laughs as you manage to catch yourself. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No thanks.”

“Too bad because I want to get back in a timely manner.” He says, wrapping his arm around the back of your knees and carrying you off. You weren’t going to complain.

“Are you not drunk?”

“I’m drunk. I just have more spatial awareness than you.” He carries you the quick 5 minutes to your house. Managing to walk all the way up the stairs with you still in his arms, his stamina was kind of hot, or maybe those were just drunk thoughts.

He sets you down on your couch, getting you both a glass of water to put on your side table.

"I didn’t say this but I took some judo classes." You say, just letting whatever dumb shit stumble out your mouth as you take a sip from the glass.

"Did you now?" He says sarcastically.

"We should spar."

"You never fail to surprise me with your stupid ideas." He says while watching you get up. "Are you that confident?"

"You're scared, that's why you're trying to chicken out." He pushes himself up off the couch.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” He says, watching you hype yourself up, jumping up and down.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Come at me then.” He said, fully intending to go easy on you. You quickly try to tackle him onto the floor, wrapping your leg around him to drop him, and to his shock he falls onto his back, leaving him groaning and rubbing his back. “I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“Fuck yeah! Told you you’d regret it!” You shout, jumping up, he grabs your leg and pulls it down making you fall over him, rolling over so that you were pinned down by your wrists.

“How cute, Leon.” You smile, tucking feet underneath him onto his chest and launching off you and getting up. You usually weren’t this successful given you’d only gone to 2 classes, the drunkenness definitely provided you some much-needed confidence. He laughs breathlessly from the rollercoaster you just put him through, resting on his wrists for a second before standing up with you.

“You wanted me to show you what I learnt in training right?” He says, as you rub your hands together mischievously. You run toward him, him holding both of your hands when you try to push him, pushing against each other as he swipes both your feet from under you and pins you to the floor, his shins pressing on your thighs to make sure you don’t pull the same trick again. Both of you are still breathing heavily from the high of the last round.

"You should give up now." He whispers, lacing his fingers in between your own.

"You should know better." You whisper back, smiling. His eyes drop down to your lips, his head fogged as the alcohol in his system starts to kick in more.

"What if I don't?" He leans in, brushing his lips over yours, your stomach fluttering, you were so glad you were drunk. You never would've come up with this idea if you were sober.

"What are you doing, Leon?"

"Beating you up.”

"You're drunk."

"So are you." He replies, connecting your lips. The kiss is slow and soft. Not how you expected a drunk make-out to be. His lips part and your tongue meet his, the both of you letting out quiet sounds as the kiss gets more heated, his body weight shifting down. His arms wrap around your waist, under your jumper as he stands up with your legs wrapped around him. "We shouldn't be making out on the living room floor." He says and presses his lips against yours again. You were already a little light-headed from the alcohol, his lips trailing down your jawline, your neck, the soft breaths of his breath against your skin, it was almost dizzying. His foot pushes your bedroom door open and he places you down on the bed his lips still all over and his fingers lifting the jumper over your head. He trails his fingers over the waistband of your skirt.

"How much did you miss me?" He breathes against your lips.

"More than anything."

"How much did you miss me, Leon?"

“I was going insane." He whispers, his fingers slipping into your underwear, sliding them off and throwing them across the room. He sits up, taking his shirt off.

"Now that's just the alcohol talking."

"It's not, the time away made me realise something I should've ages ago." He said, leaning back over and kissing you. His hand trailed back down under your skirt, a finger gliding over your slit, a soft moan coming from his lips.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil fanfiction

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bellysfromthefarside · 5 months

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3 of 7 - Burger King Remake - Fill him up at the stadium

Travis is ordered to eat all the burgers at the van.

The next morning Travis went over to his university’s football stadium instead of to the burger restaurant. Bubba’s Burgers was going to experiment with selling burgers from a trailer outside the stadium before games. Today was the first try at this new aspect of the business. Travis was in the trailer working on the setup. The burgers were not going to be prepared on site, but instead would be cooked back at the restaurant and brought over to the stadium as needed. The first shipments had arrived and Travis was loading the trays of burgers into the heated racks along one side of the trailer. It was hot work, so Travis had taken his shirt off. He was a little sorry he had worn boots and jeans instead of shorts and flip flops, as it was warmer than expected. A knock on the door was followed by a shout. “Hey, it’s me…Tommy!” “Come on in, its open,” Travis responded. Tommy stepped into the end of the trailer. He was also a college student, but unlike the senior Travis, Tommy was only a freshman. He had started working at Bubba’s only a few months ago, just after his eighteenth birthday. Tommy was muscular, but leaner and a lot taller than Travis. He saw the shirtless Travis standing in the middle aisle of the trailer. “Man, your gut’s blown up huge,” Tommy said as he grinned, and put his hand on the top of Travis’ oversized belly. “You look like you’re eight months pregnant!” “Nah, there ain’t any babies in there,” Travis replied, looking down at Tommy’s hand still patting the protruding gut, “It’s just beer and burgers!” “So is everything ready for today or have you been eating all of our merchandise?” “Everything’s about ready…except we haven’t gotten’ the fries yet.” As the two we discussing the afternoon’s plans, the door at the end of the trailer burst open, and in walked their manager, Mr. Cleberg. Cleberg was in his 50s, a big man with a thick mustache who looked to have done some serious burger eating over the years. His dress shirt was tight and the large suede sport coat he wore appeared to be unbuttoned for comfort and not for fashion. “We’ve got a big problem boys,” Cleberg blurted out as he made his way to the center of the trailer, “a big problem.” The other two listened apprehensively as Cleberg described the situation. It seemed as though he did not get the correct permits to sell food at this location. There were several inspectors from the city looking around that day and checking for the proper paper work. The only solution was to somehow get rid of the burgers, and convince the inspectors that this was only a test run and not a set-up to actually sell any food. “I’ve called the store and told them not to send over any more burgers,” Cleberg told the boys, “But how can we sneak all of these burgers out without anyone noticing?” The three men were staring blankly at each other when a smile slowly crept across Tommy’s face. “You know,” he started, “there is something here, big enough to hold all these burgers, that we could fill up and get out of here without too much notice…” “And that is…” Cleberg wanted to know. “Travis’ belly!” Tommy stated and pointed at the huge round gut now very noticeable to everyone in the room. Travis looked down at his own belly, at Tommy then back at Cleberg. “Well, I can eat some of these, but there’s no way I can eat all of..” Cleberg interrupted, “Considering all of the burgers you eat while on the job, I think you CAN eat all of these. Now get busy! You’ve got some serious eatin’ to do!”. Cleberg turned to Tommy, “You come with me. We’ll see where those inspectors are.” He reached up to one of the shelves and pulled out a tray of burgers. Then Cleberg turned back to Travis. “You’d better get started!”

Travis realized he had no choice but to eat as many burgers as he could. He sat down at the counter and brought out the first trey as he heard the door close behind Tommy and Cleberg. “How could Tommy suggest I eat all the burgers?” Travis thought to himself as he took a big bite. Then he looked down at the growing round gut, “I guess that’s why,” he said to himself and let out a little chuckle. The first burger disappeared, followed quickly by the second. Travis was very hungry at the time and started to think that this was not going to be that difficult. He loved the taste of a juicy burger and enjoyed the feeling of a full stomach. The second tray came out and then the third. Travis had devoured about 15 burgers when he began to slow down. “Oooohhhhh, I’m getting full,’ Travis said to no one in particular. “I’m getting big too!” he had looked down at his gut. The belly was noticeably larger and now touched the edge of the counter. He backed his chair up a little to give himself a little more room. Travis struggled to eat the rest of the burgers, but he managed to get all two dozen into his now huge stomach. He leaned back in the chair and put his hand on top of the overstuffed belly. A slight smile crossed his face as he quietly celebrated his accomplishment. The door swung open and in walked Tommy and Cleberg. Both noticed the giant swollen belly attached to the young man sitting in the middle of the room. Tommy walked over to stand next to Travis and grinned. “Daammmnnnn…that’s a big gut,” Tommy noted, and started to pat the burger balloon. “It looks like you’ve finished off all ’em!”. “I… sure…did. All of the burgers are…buurrrppp… are in here,” Travis replied and pointed to his belly.

Source

------ Voting and Accessing Exclusive to the full 100 sets dropping on Patreon Now which image is you favorite? Voting decides the images in the final video production. The full set impressive! Happening only over at Patreon Exclusives.

See you rounder! Tom

#ai belly #ball belly #beer gut #overeating #ball gut #feed me #bulking #gaining weight on purpose #mpreg belly

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sotteoks · 2 years

Text

More Than A Helping Hand | 🔞

──★ ˙pairing: Shownu x Fem!Reader ──★ ˙warnings/contents: SMUT, p*rn with just a crumb of a plot, established relationship, roommates!au, college!au, rich girl!reader, friends to lovers trope, dom!Shownu, sub!reader, simp shownu...lowkey..., masturbation (female) , dirty talk !!!!, some degradation, 'princess' as a nickname, tiny bit of choking, very minimal impact play/reader gets a small slap, let's assume reader is on the pill bc of the creampie, there's a sprinkle of fluff kinda, soft aftercare bc why not, ... please let me know if i missed anything ! ⸜ (｡˃ ᵕ ˂) ⸝ ──★ ˙word count: 6.9k ──★ ˙ a/n: this is literally so self indulgent im so sorry ──★ ˙summary: your university roommate Hyunwoo is everything you wanted and then some.

right now, in this room i'm saying i can't take it any longer

You never wanted a roommate. In fact, what you were actually in search of was a housekeeper or personal assistant; your friends had made you aware of that fact when you described what you thought was the ideal roommate. However, when your parents shipped you off to attend university in the city, they made it very clear that you needed to learn how to live without all the luxuries you were accustomed to at home while you attended school. They had made it through their early adulthood without all the nice, shiny things. Everything they currently had, they attained through hard work after finishing school.

It was your turn to experience that.

Your friends offered you two solutions to your problems after growing tired of your complaints: get a part time job or get a roommate. Having a part time job seemed out of the question to you because you could barely manage your busy social life along with school work. Naturally, having a roommate was the option that was most appealing. Initially, trying to find someone who met your impossibly high standards for a roommate was difficult. The people who responded to the flyers you posted around your university campus were always too much of something for your liking. Whether they be too talkative, too quiet, too boring, too obnoxious, too stingy; they were never just right.

Until Son Hyunwoo, the pride of the music and dance department, came along.

On top of being an ace in all of his classes, he was incredibly attractive, very nice, and just the right amount of talkative for your tastes. But being honest with yourself, you probably would have accepted him as a tenant just because of how hot he was and he left a good first impression on you when he let you copy his notes back in your freshman year. He moved in fairly quickly and the two of you seemed to mesh well due to his helpful nature and you...well, often needed help.

After a few months of living together, he easily gained the title of your right hand man as you two did everything together. Even if most of the time, your idea of bonding together was running errands with him while you delegated what to do. Perhaps it was because of the attraction he felt toward you, he had no problem doing the silly little tasks you would ask of him which led to the situation the two of you were currently in.

Sitting at the foot of your bed, phone in hand, Hyunwoo was taking pictures of you as you tried on various outfits from a recent shopping spree you went on since you finally had some spending money.

“This skirt looks a little short.” You comment as you examine yourself in the full length mirror in your bedroom before striding over to Hyunwoo. “What do you think?” You give a little turn and pose as you present yourself to him.

Looking up from his phone screen and shifting his gaze to you before slipping his phone into his pocket, he purses his lips in thought; giving you the impression he was seriously contemplating the details of your outfit. Yes, he did think the short was incredibly short. When you twirled around to let Hyunwoo see your attire from all angles, the simple movement caused your skirt to lift just enough to expose the cheeky thong you were wearing. But, Hyunwoo wasn't going to let you know that. Simply because he wanted to be able to enjoy the sight of you prancing around wearing that miniskirt during some sort of outing you would inevitably make him join you on.

“It looks fine. It makes your legs look longer.” Hyunwoo tells you with a plain expression to mask how he truly felt. While your attention goes back to observing your own reflection, his eyes are quick to fixate themselves on the perfection that he views you as. With every turn and pose you make in the mirror, Hyunwoo has to make sure not to stare too long in fear of being caught but the sneaky, longing glances are barely enough to satiate the feelings of desire that lay seated deeply within him.

Giving yourself one more look in the mirror, you sigh in dissatisfaction before calling over Hyunwoo to help you undo the zipper on your skirt. He hears your request but the words don’t process to him immediately due to his ogling so when he finally realizes what you had just said, he’s thankful he didn’t blow his cover by literally jumping up at the chance to help you undress. Approaching you slowly, cautious hands start to reach toward your body.

“Be careful with the tags, I still don't know if I wanna return this.” You warn when you feel his hand hold on to the hem of your skirt while the other pulls down the tiny zipper. Once the zipper is undone, you casually begin to strip out of your outfit before changing into a plain hoodie and leggings.

It was just a tiny bit fucked up how after you had gotten comfortable around Hyunwoo, you seemed to constantly neglect the fact that he was a healthy, young man with an ample interest in the female form as you had no qualms about changing around him or walking around the apartment in just your underwear. One time, you had even called him into your room while you had a fever and asked him to administer your suppository since you couldn't see yourself in the mirror well enough. That event may have been the straw that broke the camel’s back and caused Hyunwoo to start having lewd thoughts about you; but he would never admit that because it made him feel like some sort of sexual deviant.

However, the truth was that had you done these things with any other man, they would take it as you purposely tempting them and teasing them. But that was just something that never seemed to cross your mind whenever you behaved the way you did.

Initially when you first started to show you were getting comfortable, Hyunwoo actually did think you were coming on to him. Alas, that idealization was quickly shattered when he learned that due to your upbringing, it was simply second nature to you to always have someone ready to assist you with the most basic tasks such as getting dressed. It bewildered him that you managed to live on your own for as long as you did. But Hyunwoo couldn’t judge you because university was the place where one was guaranteed to meet people with vastly different upbringings.

When you're done changing clothes, you go to sit on your bed and motion Hyunwoo to give you his phone before he hands it over to you then begin looking through the pictures he took of you; a pleased hum falling from you.

“Not bad.” You mumble mostly to yourself, praising how well your outfits photographed. “Send these to me.” You tell the male, tossing his phone back to him. He easily catches the cellular device and obliges to your request; your phone vibrating on your nightstand and hitting your ears with an obnoxious clattering sound, indicating you received the pictures. You reach for the device to look over the pictures once more and decide which one to post only to panic upon realizing the time; scrambling to your feet then dashing to grab your handbag.

You say something about a nail appointment to Hyunwoo on your way out of your bedroom, nearly tripping over all the shoes in the entryway of your apartment while digging in your purse for your car keys. The front door opens then promptly slams shut; seeming to echo louder than usual as your roommate stood in your bedroom alone, trying to process the flurry of activity that had just happened.

In your absence, he tidied up the leftover mess from your fashion show earlier and placed the brand new items with tags in the shopping bag they arrived in. Noticing that there were even more clothes sporadically placed around your bedroom floor, he took the liberty of collecting the small piles of worn clothing before dumping them in your hamper.

Now, it was almost as if the Lord was testing Hyunwoo; seeing if he was being sincerely nice and doing you a favor by cleaning up or if he was just seriously down bad waiting for you to give him some sort of reward for being a decent human. The calm composure he usually maintained on the outside in order to keep his less pure feelings under tight wraps had nearly faltered when he caught sight of a pair of lacy panties peeking out from under your bed. Initially, when he reached to toss it with the rest of your clothing, he didn’t think too much of it. However, once he picked it up he not only got a whiff of your feminine scent lingering on the fabric, he noticed the way that the crotch of it was slightly dry and caked with what he could safely assume was your arousal. The little devil on his shoulder urges him to pocket it for himself and use it as erotic fodder for his imagination since you probably wouldn’t even notice it was missing; and on top of that, parting with a single pair of panties was the least you could do for him. But alas, his rational thinking overpowered those thoughts in the end and he quickly tossed it into your hamper.

Hyunwoo eventually retired to his own room and you returned from your nail appointment; picking up dinner on your way back as a small gesture of gratitude. When you announce your arrival after unlocking the door and swap your shoes for a pair of house slippers, Hyunwoo comes to greet you, fondly reminding you of the puppy you had to leave with your parents. Taking the bag of take out food from your hands, he brings it over to the dining table and you follow him excitedly; practically skipping over to the fridge to fetch some beverages before sitting down at the table.

“Look at my new nails!” You exclaim gleefully, going through a series of poses to showcase the jewel adorned acrylics that now decorated your fingers. “Gyaru style has been trendy recently and I can’t remember the last time I had a manicure this Instagram worthy.” You continue to babble as Hyunwoo takes the seat across from you, untying the knot of the plastic take out bag then spreading out the containers on the table and opening them to reveal fried chicken from a place the two of you frequented often.

“Aren’t your nails a little long? How are you gonna get anything done?” He questions in a teasing tone, reaching over for the cans of beer you brought out and opening a can for each of you.

“I can do things just fine.” You tell him, a small pout forming on your face as you sift through the take out bag to retrieve a pair of plastic gloves and putting them on with ease before finally grabbing a piece of chicken and proceeding to eat as if you were trying to convince him of your capabilities.

The rest of dinner is filled with casual conversation and lots of laughter over several cans of beer. When the two of you finish eating, you follow Hyunwoo’s lead as he starts cleaning up; which had become a common practice for you after he made a joke about not being able to help you forever. It was just a lighthearted comment and the two of you knew that at some point in the future the two of you would stop being roommates, but you couldn’t help but feel saddened by the idea of not having Hyunwoo around. Besides the fact that he did things like take off your makeup when you were too drunk to remember, take all your outfit of the day pictures for you and finish your food for you when you went to cafes solely for the aesthetic, you genuinely enjoyed his company.

Hyunwoo was the one who babysat you when you would get blackout drunk at all the frat parties you went to together. He was the one who went with you to all these random outings with you just so you could maintain your silly little instagram persona. He didn’t just help you out with your stupid errands and chores, he also taught you how to get accustomed to living on your own. During the time the two of you lived together, you felt like you grew up a lot thanks to his nurturing behavior towards you and that was something that would be impossible for you to pay him back for.

When the two of you finish cleaning up after dinner and part ways, going to your respective bedrooms, you find yourself tossing and turning unable to get any sleep.

You tried counting sheep, imagining little fantasies of you on vacation, and even got up to make yourself a nice cup of special imported chamomile tea that your mother had swore by; but none of those things worked. So, you found yourself laying back in bed watching long YouTube documentaries that you thought would bore you so much you would just fall asleep.

But even that didn’t work and it was time for one of your last resorts.

Leaning over the side of your bed and yanking open the drawer of your bedside table, you rummaged through its contents before pulling out a bullet vibrator. It was a rose gold device with a textured pink silicone tip, the entire thing was small enough to be concealed in your fist so when you pressed the power button on the bottom and heard the toy roar to life you flinched slightly. Quickly turning it off after checking that it still worked, you spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable in bed.

Once you’re relaxed, you slip your pajama shorts off and let them get lost in your bedding, tentatively holding the toy in one hand then turning it on once again before bringing it to your panty clad center. The strength of the vibrations are felt before you even make direct contact with your clit so once it does, your inner thighs tremble ever so slightly at the intensity. Eyes falling closed and your lips parted in a silent moan, you use the toy to massage gentle circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. It doesn’t take long for your climax to build because of how powerful the toy is.

Your body covered in a light layer of sweat; silk sheets clinging to your skin as you roll your hips against your own hand holding the toy, desperately trying to get more friction and finish quickly but it seems like the universe is against you as you notice the vibrations start becoming weaker and weaker the closer your orgasm gets.

Then, right before you were able to finish the toy dies completely and you let out a loud groan of frustration.

Now, on top of not being able to sleep, you were now sweaty and angry about your ruined orgasm. You weren’t really thinking rationally at this point, your mind was only focused on two things: getting your big O and then going to sleep. So, when you text your roommate asking if he was still awake, you’re pleased when he replies quickly and you immediately ask him to come to your room.

“Is..something wrong?” Hyunwoo asks once he arrives, awkwardly standing off to the side of your bed frame. For the few moments he’s in your presence, you count him yawn at least three times and realize that he was either sleeping or very close to falling asleep prior to you texting him. Feeling bad that you cut into his time to rest all because you couldn’t satiate your own desires, you pat the empty spot in your bed, silently instructing him to fill the space beside you; and of course, he obliges. The only source of light in your room comes from a small lamp on your nightstand and casts a soft golden glow as the two of you sit in silence for a bit while you try to string together the words of your proposal.

“I have a favor to ask you.” You start off demurely, giving Hyunwoo an expression of neediness he’s never seen until now. Blinking away the remainder of sleep in his eyes, he further examines your expression to try and figure out what you wanted from him at this hour. With the way the light and shadows danced across your face, Hyunwoo could have sworn he detected your eyes looking at him with lust but he could only chalk it up to him being tired and imagining what he wanted to see.

“I was gonna go back to bed, I don’t know if I wanna go to the convenience store for you at this hour.” He laughs to ease his nerves but the expression you wear on your face turns serious and he begins to feel on edge again.

“No, I don’t need you to get me anything.” You tell him, your brows furrowing as a frown grows on your face.

You’re beating around the bush and both of you know it.

It creates a mutual feeling of unease between the two of you but for different reasons; Hyunwoo being nervous about what you could possibly ask of him at this hour and you being embarrassed about the next words that were going to leave your mouth.

“Would you sleep with me?” You ask in a meek voice as you avoid making eye contact with him, idly twiddling your thumbs; trying to mentally prepare yourself for him to reject you.

“Isn’t it a little childish to need me to comfort you after a nightmare?” Hyunwoo chuckles in response which makes you even more frustrated than you were before. “I mean-”

“No, not like that.” You cut him off hastily. “My vibrator died on me.”

The silence that falls over the two of you is so loud and creates a tension so thick, you could have sworn it would suffocate you if you opened your mouth to say anything else. In that moment, you had started to regret asking him for such a favor; knowing that you asked him for too much and crossed the line this time. All you had wanted now was for him to reject your request and go back to his room like nothing happened.

“See? I told you those nails were gonna make it more difficult for you to do things.” Hyunwoo teases, alleviating the awkward atmosphere and making your cheeks feel warm at the implication of his words. “How do you want me to help?”

The sound of his question makes your breath get caught in your throat, causing you to get choked up and cough a little to clear it.

“You’re messing with me, right?” You respond in disbelief at how casual he is, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Hey, you’re the one who called me into your room this late. Do you want my help or not?” Hyunwoo quips back; rendering you silent for the time being. You know he’s just heckling you for the fun of it but there’s a slight sharpness in his tone that you’re not used to hearing from him. The remnants of your ruined orgasm already has you so hot, it’s hard to tell if him talking to you like that is what further excites you.

Your mind no longer has the capacity to think of words to say to Hyunwoo and you let the primal feeling of lust fully overcome you as you slowly close the space between the two of you. Your lips make contact with his for the first time and the sensation of his plush lips on yours has you craving more contact. Though you were the one who initially called him to quell your frustrations, Hyunwoo kisses you back with such intensity, it leaves you breathless. He makes it difficult for you to want to pull away but at some point, you need to replenish your oxygen. When you break the kiss, your lips are slightly swollen and you’re panting very softly. Along with the mortification that came with you basically asking your roommate to fuck you, you were now embarrassed by the fact he literally took your breath away and had you wanting more.

“Having second thoughts?” Hyunwoo asks gently, genuinely concerned about if he had come on too strong or made you uncomfortable. Though he was elated to finally experience kissing you, he was getting nervous all over again. There were so many things to worry about like you not liking the experience or if the two of you went any further-

“No, it’s fine.” You quietly reassure Hyunwoo which effectively snaps him out of his anxiety ridden engrossment.

After that, everything progresses so fast you can’t even recall who kissed who, who started tugging at the clothes or anything. But it wasn’t like that mattered as you and Hyunwoo were finally getting what you both wanted. Sprawled out beneath him with your camisole hiked up to expose your chest, Hyunwoo’s pajama pants and underwear were thrown together in one piece somewhere, and your soaked panties decorating the floor waiting to be collected as a souvenir later for Hyunwoo. Whoever said nice guys finish last probably had some other fatal flaw holding them back because here Hyunwoo was; one of the nicest guys at your university, getting something he wanted just for being a genuinely kind person.

As eager as he was, he was still a romantic at heart and had tried to convince you to partake in some foreplay before getting to the main event; but as soon as he peeled the lacy fabric off your body to reveal the way your arousal clung to your skin, creating a translucent trail between your center and the panties— he understood why you were so impatient and insistent on having him fill you immediately. Kneeling between your spread legs, one hand guides his cock to your sopping hole while the other idly settles on your inner thigh. Just the feeling of the tip of Hyunwoo’s cock grazing your folds as he spreads your arousal is enough to make you start squirming beneath him and trying to get him inside you.

“What’s taking so long?” You whine out. “If you’re gonna tease-”

Your bratty tangent is cut short by Hyunwoo finally slipping the tip of his cock into your cunt after taking a moment to mentally prepare himself for the sweet heat that was between your legs.

“Don’t worry, I'll take care of you.” He reassures you.

Maybe he’s being dramatic because he had been too busy for hookups. Maybe he was just a major simp for you. But the wet, warmth you encase his cock in as he ventures deeper into you is something beyond his wildest dreams. Hyunwoo thanks the heavens that you needed some time to adjust to his size stretching your taut walls because at this point he was worried that if he moved, he would bust too quickly. And it wouldn’t just be quick, it would be an obscene amount.

The slight sting of your cunt stretching to accommodate him seems to further excite you as soft moans fall past your parted lips as he bottoms out and you’ve finally taken him to the hilt. Just the feeling of having Hyunwoo fill you like this is enough to quell your impatience from earlier as you bask in the feeling of being so full. Your eyes flutter closed as you brace yourself for whatever sexual frustrations you knew Hyunwoo was going to unleash upon you. Even if you were totally unaware of the less than pure thoughts he had about you, you knew he wasn’t meeting up with any sneaky links in his free time; how could he if he willingly spent almost all of his time outside of school and work with you?

“Fuck—” You hear Hyunwoo mutter.

Curiously, you open your eyes to see how he’s fairing but instead of being greeted by him looking at your face or your chest, you find that his eyes are fixed where your two bodies meet and he’s admiring the way your cunt greedily swallowed his cock. And of course, your gaze follows his and the sight sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

The sight only becomes more enticing when he slowly pulls his hips back until only the tip remains inside of you and both of you see his length slicked in a thick, shiny coat of your arousal. Though the juicy image is something you don’t mind having imprinted in your memory, gawking at the sight wasn’t doing enough for you.

It almost scares you when you realize how in sync you and Hyunwoo are; right when you’re about to forgo your pride and beg him to fuck you like the needy slut he somehow managed to awaken in you, he speaks up first.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hold back anymore. I want you so bad.” He hastily confesses before his hands migrate to your waist, getting a firm grasp on you as he lifts your hips from the mattress and pulls your ass onto his lap starting to thrust into you. Almost immediately, your hands go to reach for his strong arms and hold on tight, hoping that you would be provided with some sort of stability.

You gasp in surprise about how rough his movements are, feeling just how sincere his words were. Hearing the verbal confirmation that Hyunwoo was just as needy as you allows you to finally get out of your head and just focus on what was happening in the moment. And as your sense of touch zeroes in on the way his cock was rubbing against your walls just right, the rest of your senses and thoughts also become infatuated with anything to do with Hyunwoo.

The euphonious sound of his groans and grunts that make you clench around him, effectively causing him to make more noise. The fresh scent of his bath products mingling and mixing with the smell of sex that hung in the air. The familiar taste of the vanilla chapstick you loaned him as he closes the distance between you and his lips finds yours once again.

Though he was consumed by the feeling of being one with you at this moment and adored all the positive feedback he was getting from you, Hyunwoo was still aware of how late it was in the night and knew if you got too loud, you could expect an angry note on your front door.

“Kiss me properly.” Hyunwoo growls lowly against your lips; obviously irritated with the way your jaw fell slack as more obscene moans poured from your throat. “You’re too loud.”

“S-sorry.” You stammer after you feel him give a particularly deep thrust into you.

Another moan threatens to leave you but desperate to please Hyunwoo, your lips find his again as an attempt to silence yourself. Engaging in a slow, sensual make out that contrasts starkly in comparison to the way he was roughly rutting his hips against yours, you manage to stay quiet for a little longer but you eventually end up pulling away from him when your lungs start to burn in need of air.

“Please don’t stop.” You whisper breathily into Hyunwoo’s ear, holding on to him for dear life as you feel every thrust he gives you bringing you closer to that sweet, sweet finish you were deprived of.

“I said I’d take care of you, did you think I wouldn’t follow through on that?” His question is rhetorical and normally you would complain about him being so mean to you. But in this context, it’s so much more exhilarating. “I just wanna please you.”

The salacious sound of skin slapping against skin seems to put you in a trance— eyes rolled back and lips parted as you find yourself getting lost in the feeling of being fucked so thoroughly. Light bruises vaguely resembling the shape of Hyunwoo’s fingerprints bloom across your hips but they go unnoticed by the both of you even when he starts moving you around to adjust your position. Remaining on your back, your legs were no longer uselessly dangling on either side of Hyunwoo and had been hoisted over his shoulders, allowing his cock to stimulate you from a different angle. That same tight hold he had on your hips resumes on your thighs as rough fingertips latch on the meaty flesh. And any bruises that were to result from this vice grip were going to be eagerly accepted.

The new angle combined with Hyunwoo picking up the momentum of his movements has you seeing stars beneath your eyelids as you squeeze your eyes shut to fight back the tears stinging the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by waves of euphoria just on the horizon and threatening to sweep you away. A few tears manage to escape anyway as Hyunwoo’s cock consistently stimulates a particularly soft and sensitive part within your pussy, making it hard for you to think.

You want to let Hyunwoo know just how good he’s making you feel and how much you love having him stimulate all your senses; but there isn’t a single coherent thought in that pretty little head of yours so forming words and sentences is out of the question. All you’re able to do is let out these pathetic moans and gasps as you’re being split open by probably the best cock you’ve ever had.

“You look so pretty like this, princess—” Hyunwoo muses as he looks down at your dazed expression, the sound of his voice breaking you from the spell he had temporarily put you under. “So pretty and so cock drunk.” Once his words register to you, you’re only able to giggle like a ditzy lovestruck high schooler in response because of how true his statement was.

“It’s so hot when you’re mean to me. Keep talking to me like that—” You urge him, a broken moan leaving you as he gives you a particularly rough thrust that makes your entire body shake.

“Yeah? You wanna hear me tell you that you’re just a horny brat who can’t do anything on her own and needs me to help her cum?” He rasps, your cunt clenching around him again confirming his words. “Fuck you for teasing me and making me wait so long.”

Pulling his hips back, Hyunwoo slides out until only the tip of his cock remains inside of you and before you could even whine in protest, he slams back inside of you causing a choked out gasp to fall past your lips.

“So cute and needy for my cock. Tell me, is it really that good?” Hyunwoo laughs breathlessly.

“It’s soo fucking good.” You obediently reply back. You’re ready to beg him to just fill you with his load already but the words get lost in your head while more moans pour from your tired throat as his thick cock stretched you with every snap of his hips against yours.

Hyunwoo places a hand on your sternum that trails up to your neck, fingers giving a light squeeze to your throat before he cups your face. He stares down at you with such a domineering expression, you feel so weak beneath him as your lips part in a soft moan. Seizing the opportunity, Hyunwoo swipes his thumb over your bottom lip and forces you to suck on his thumb as a means of quieting down. It works for a bit as your tongue eagerly swirls around the lone digit. With your moans silenced for the time being, Hyunwoo relishes in the wet squelching sounds being created by him pummelling your soaked cunt. But when the head of his cock kisses your cervix, a small whine rumbles in the back of your throat. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he gives your face a light slap for being so noisy.

At this point, you felt like that wave of euphoria had not only come crashing over you, it had also carried you out to the sea with no lifejacket. You were drowning in bliss and it was turning your mind into goo.

Just when you thought Hyunwoo couldn’t outdo himself, his hands took a hold of your legs and pushed them against your chest as he leaned in; practically folding you in half and fucking you deeper at this animalistic pace that has you clawing at his arms. You probably left some serious scratches on him with your nails but that didn’t matter at the moment. The only thing that mattered was the feel of Hyunwoo’s cock dragging against your walls and fucking into you like he was training your cunt to mold against him and only him from now on.

And quite honestly, the idea of him being the only person you slept with didn’t sound so bad. In fact, it sounded like the most ideal scenario. It was just so good it could make you-

“F-fuck, cumming—” You barely manage to get out before your walls start to flutter around his swollen cock before soaking him in even more of your juices in hopes of spurring his climax.

Your hands reach for his shoulders as a feeble attempt to get him to ease up on your sensitive walls, but you’re too wrapped up in these overwhelming sensations hitting you all at once and your words get lost once again. Thrusting into you like a dog in heat, Hyunwoo has you digging your nails into his once flawless skin while you’re unable to do anything but patiently wait for him to finish. Considering how long it’s been since either of you had gotten some action, you had no idea when he would decide he was done. With his cock working your overstimulated pussy, it triggers another wave of ecstasy to wash over you as another rush of your juices gush over him as the squelching sounds of him filling your cunt get even louder.

More than pleased with his handiwork , Hyunwoo has you in a mating press, fucking into you even deeper as he finally lets his own climax rapidly build and overcome him after suppressing his own desires just so he could focus on pleasing you.

“Where should I cum?” He asks you urgently, feeling his release creeping up on him.

“Please, just cum. Anywhere.” You beg, tears brimming your eyes as your sensitivity was starting to get the best of you and you were finding it hard to remain still underneath him. Even with his body firmly pressed up against yours, you were a blubbering, writhing mess.

The squelching of your slick cunt paired with your needy plea was more than enough to make the coil in his stomach wind tighter and tighter until his hips stutter; thick ropes of cum spilling into your womb as he poured every bit of his sexual frustration into you. The feeling of him finally releasing within you was enough to trigger one more orgasm within you and your walls clenched around him, milking his seed out of him as his thrusts slowed down but increased in depth until they eventually stopped.

Carefully slipping out of you, trying not to further overwork your lady parts, Hyunwoo makes a dash for your en suite bathroom. With laundry being a chore the two of you switched off on frequently, he was familiar with where you kept your things and quickly located a fresh washcloth before running it under some warm water. Returning to your room, Hyunwoo finds you lying in bed on your side in your usual sleeping position that consists of your arms under your pillow cradling your head while your legs are outstretched. Luckily for him, it’s easy to wipe away the lewd mix of bodily fluids that was leaking from your center before it could stain the sheets. As much as he wanted to stuff his cum back into you, he figured it would be better not to push his luck with you since he had already been blessed with you fulfilling a desire he had since he moved in with you.

After cleaning you up, Hyunwoo covers your naked lower body with your comforter that was previously kicked to the side before attempting to locate his pants and underwear. He does a quick survey of your bedroom floor and only sees your lone panties in plain view. Still not forgetting that he intended on pocketing those. He checks under your bed only to come up with nothing. The last place that would make sense to check would be the mix of blankets that you were currently tangled in but you looked so peaceful sleeping; he would feel so bad if he woke you up after wearing you out like that. Realizing there was no real reason for Hyunwoo to be so urgent about finding his pajama pants since being totally naked around each other was no longer uncharted territory, he could find his clothes later. Now that he had finished his job of making you cum and helping you go to sleep, he collected his prize and proceeded to see himself out so he could rest in his own bed.

Throwing on a new fresh pair of boxers as soon as he was in the comfort of his own room, Hyunwoo slipped underneath his covers and fell asleep with a smile on his face, pleased with the events of tonight. Knowing you, he assumed that you would just treat tonight as another one of the many favors you often asked of him. Though, if things did get awkward it would probably be a first for the both of you because he couldn’t think of any other instances where there was obvious mutual tension. Letting his thoughts settle down, Hyunwoo finally gets some shut eye.

Maybe about an hour or two after falling asleep, he ends up waking up for the second time tonight. But this time due to the fact he felt so parched. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes so he could get up and go to the kitchen, Hyunwoo slowly sits up in the dark.

Something feels off but he can’t quite place his finger on it.

He wanted to think that he was just feeling the lingering excitement from earlier, but there was something seriously different about his room. Shrugging it off, he reaches for the water bottle on his nightstand and quickly unscrews the cap; drinking from it ravenously until the bottle is empty. Carelessly tossing the bottle onto his nightstand, he lays back down to go back to sleep.

Until he realizes that the water bottle he just drank from was still cold like it hadn’t been out of the refrigerator that long. If Hyunwoo left the water bottle near an open window while he slept, the cool temperature of the water wouldn’t have been questioned; but that wasn’t the case. And the most concerning part of this whole thing was that he didn’t even stop by the kitchen on his way to his room earlier.

Looking around in panic, everything looks fine.

Nothing seems out of place.

Maybe he’s just overreacting from the lack of sleep.

Settling back underneath his blankets, Hyunwoo rolls over to the cool, empty side of his bed. Or at least, he tried to. And that’s when he realized there was a second body in the bed with him that caused him to panic internally as he sat up in bed again.

“Ouch.” The familiar sound of your voice surprises Hyunwoo just as much as it quells his nerves. Pulling back the covers to reveal you laying in his bed with his boxers that he was looking for covering your once naked lower half, he looks at you in astonishment as you groggily turn your body to face him.

“What are you doing here?” He laughs softly, trying to mask the fact he just about damn near pissed himself because he thought that you were some type of strange intruder.

“You left me alone,” You pout as you pull the blankets back over yourself. “And you left me alone in a bed with soaked sheets.”

“I thought you were sleeping.” Hyunwoo reasons, laying back down beside you and feeling you curl up against his side, making yourself comfortable as you lay your head on his chest.

“I was, but leaving me by myself in those conditions is so mean.” You tell him as your hand comes up to pinch his nipple in annoyance. “I’m a nice girl who likes nice aftercare, I expected cuddling from you since you’re usually such a gentleman.”

So of course, Hyunwoo would spend the rest of the night cuddling you; as well as many other nights from now on.

#monsta x smut #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x hard hours #shownu smut #shownu scenarios #shownu imagines #shownu x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #sttks writing

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pedge-stuff · 1 year

Text

trailer reunion (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," as always. this one skews a little more m! and a little less gn!, apologies if that puts anyone off.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: 5 weeks is a long, long time.

——————————————————————————

Your leg won’t stop bouncing. It’s not your fault, really— it’s the Edmonton Airport’s, for having such a conveniently located Tim Hortons, right outside the baggage claim. After the 7-hour red eye from JFK, with the connection through Toronto, the coffee was necessary.

The caffeine isn’t entirely to blame, though. If the taxi wouldn’t stop going so fucking slow, maybe you’d settle down. But the traffic is unyielding, so the 20 minute drive to your heartfelt reunion is looking more like 45. Apparently, shutting part of the city down to film a TV show really screws up peoples’ commutes. You’d waited long enough (a month and six days, but who’s counting?), surely an extra half-hour won’t kill you. But in the taxi, the minutes seem to stretch into years.

The filming schedule for The Last of Us has been brutal. From what Pedro has told you, there was apparently a strain to film both the first and second episode back-to-back; something about using the same locations and exterior shots. For him, it has meant a marathon of shooting… the only downside to being the star of the show.

SNL’s new season was in full swing anyways, so you’d had plenty to keep you busy. Spent enough late nights at 30 Rock, after many a panicked call to the dog walker, that you barely had to inhabit his otherwise vacant condo. You talked every night, usually Facetiming before bed, but the distance was wearing on you both.

Now, the only thing in between you and your man is this fucking traffic jam.

Though this wasn’t a surprise visit— you’d booked the flight as soon as you’d realized the SNL hiatus week lined up with The Last of Us breaking to change locations for the next episode— you did have one trick up your sleeve. Or, more accurately, under your mask.

You’d been attempting to grow facial hair well before meeting Pedro, but it had been a sparse and largely unsuccessful endeavor until very recently. Your jawline had filled in between your sideburn and chin, albeit slightly patchy. You’d been hiding it over Facetime, opting for regular calls a bit more and hoping he wouldn’t notice. Not the craziest surprise, but still, your heart thrums at the prospect of finally sharing it with him.

Of course, once you arrive to set, the obstacles multiply.

Some college kid in a neon yellow vest stops you before you’ve even managed to remove your duffle from the trunk of the cab.

“Covid testing is this way, please follow me,” he insists tersely. Self-consciously, you adjust the KN95 strap around your ear.

The kid leads you to a tent, where two people in full white hazmat suits, complete with gloves and face shields, ask your name and instruct you to pull down your mask. (There’s a joke in there somewhere, about infection at a show about infected, but you get the sense it might be inappropriate to fool around here.)

Once swabbed and registered, you move to leave, scanning the exit for anyone who might be able to help you navigate onto set. But you are immediately blocked by a hazmat woman.

“You need to wait for the rapid to clear,” she insists, pointing to a row of folding chairs. “Fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes, after 5 weeks. Just fifteen minutes. You resign yourself to a seat by the door.

It’s 4pm. You were supposed to have arrived during a stop down between shots— timed so that Pedro would be in his trailer, and accessible, when you arrived. It feels like that window is physically, tangibly closing as you watch the second-hand tick slowly.

Initially, you’d been hesitant to join him on set at all, but he’d insisted you come meet his “second family.” You’d met several of his colleagues via Facetime, when he’d called you from his trailer. Bella, in particular, you’ve taken a liking to— they pepper you with whispered questions about transitioning and gripes about the gender binary when Pedro has been forced to hand over the phone.

You check your phone. Nothing from Pedro, although his little blue dot looks stationary when you pull up FindMyFriends. The clock ticks. There is a burning sting each time you blink— that third cup of coffee is wearing off, and the 5am wake-up this morning is starting to catch up to you. Really, all you want to do is go back to your partner’s hotel room, said partner in tow, curl up on the king-sized and fall asleep watching some West Wing rerun. (Maybe also shower together, and then some. You can keep yourself awake for that.)

Finally, finally, finally, the hazmat woman returns. “You’re clear,” she announces, handing you a green sticker to adhere on your jacket. You make it through the tent flap, heart in your throat with anticipation—

But you have no fucking idea where to go.

A sea of white tents lays before you, stations with people doing things of varying levels of importance. A neon slip of paper points you towards set, but that’s not where you’re headed. Finally, past a corralled group of extras in some really disgusting mushroom prosthetics, and a tent full of picked-over lunch offerings, you spot some trailers in the distance.

And apparently, a stranger with a duffle bag walking quickly towards actors’ trailers, yields a quick security intervention.

In their defense, you definitely look like a crazy person.

“Do you have a clearance list, or anything?” You beg, discretely craning your neck to see over the guard’s neck. The trailers are right there. There are only a few, it shouldn’t take any time at all to find Pedro. He’s within arm’s reach and yet he couldn’t possibly feel further away as the guard talks code into a very official-looking walkie talkie.

“Roger.” He looks down at you. “Listen, you gotta go man. It’s a clearance-only set, and they’ve got strict covid rules, so—”

The green sticker may or may not get shoved in the man’s face. There may or may not be angry tears threatening to ruin your cool. “I got covid tested! I’m clean, they let me through. They had me on their list. I’m—”

From behind you, a familiar voice cuts you off. “With me, Robbie.”

You whip around.

Jaw? On the floor.

Pedro looks… really fucking old. His hair has been sprayed gray, wily and wind-swept; the beard, too, is much grayer than normal. It’s all part of a dirty-looking, artificially stained, mostly denim-based costume. You file away for later, how attracted you are to seeing him like this. Jesus Christ.

He looks old, but he is here, and he is grinning at you, and he’s here.

“Aw, shit.” The guard talks into the radio again. “86. Sorry about that.”

Easy to ignore him, though, as you’re preoccupied with staring at your man.

Before you can move to pounce on him, close the final four feet of distance between you, a well-manicure hand splays menacingly out at you.

“Don’t even think about it,” Coco warns. “We have fifteen minutes for touch-ups and I do not have time to fix everything.”

Pedro’s nose twitches, frowning at you. You reach down to hold his hand, but it is… apparently also covered in make-up, looking red, nasty and broken.

Sorry, he mouths dejectedly.

The inside of his trailer is familiar, though it looks a little smaller in-person than it appears on Facetime. A mirror and counter, a decently sized couch, a bathroom, a desk in the corner. Pedro settles in the make-up chair, smiling backwards at you in the mirror.

“Drop your stuff,” he insists.

Little touches of your life together pepper the room in a way that grips your heart a little. A framed picture on the desk, which you recognize from last summer; a particularly nice day in Prospect Park with the dogs, captured in a Polaroid snapped candid by a total stranger. You’d declined it, at first, assuming it was a weird fan thing. But they had insisted, leaving the picture behind and walking away. It was too lovely to leave.

The sweatshirt draped over the arm of the sofa is yours— an old NYU hoodie Pedro usually travels with. He claims it’s a ‘security blanket,’ and honestly, he might only be half-joking. A note you’d recently sent in a package (he’d accidentally left his whole box of contacts at home), taped up on the mirror, alongside a photo strip with Sarah from some gala a couple years back.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Pedro says quietly, watching you look around. “Take your mask off, baby, I’m assuming you cleared testing if you made it through the front.”

In your excitement to reunite, you almost forgot the little surprise. His jaw drops, into an awed smile. With the un-fake-injured hand, he reaches up to palm your cheek. Runs a hand up and down your jaw, scratching lightly along the new hair.

You turn enough to plant a kiss on the pulse point of Pedro’s wrist. Capture his hand with yours, against your face, to feel him for the first time in over a month.

“Oh! The oil is working,” Coco has paused, midway through spraying something silvery and chemical-smelling to Pedro’s temples. She had suggested it surreptitiously a few months back, off-handedly, and you’d been religiously using it since. The woman knows her shit.

Pedro continues to thumb at the new scruff, transfixed. His jaw muscle twitches.

“I’ve uh—” He stalls out. “Uh. Sorry. Dinner. Craig—”

You step backwards, pulling your hand down to hold in his lap, instead. He huffs.

“Craig wants to go to dinner tonight, since we’re wrapping in Edmonton. I guess there’s this restaurant he is insisting we have to try, it’s a whole thing. Big group. I didn’t give him an answer, in case you’re tired and wanna just head back to the hotel? But we can go, either way it’s fine, I figured…”

“Pedge,” you interrupt. “It’s all good. I’d be happy to go, it sounds fun.”

He exhales. “Thank god, because it’s like a spouse-thing, Neil and Craig’s wives are here.”

Your eyebrow quirks. “Spouse?”

Just to get a blush out of the man. You’d discussed it, of course, but had yet to make moves. Being marked soothed any sense of urgency— you were committed by flesh and blood, and that was ultimately more binding than a ring or ceremony. But, still.

“Joking, love." Despite the coffee, a yawn sneaks up on you. "I might crash on the couch for a bit, when you go back."

He glances at his phone. "We only have one more shot to get alts on. Neil swears we have a hard-out in an hour. Close your eyes, and I'll be right back."

— — —

You didn't mean to actually fall asleep. Just lay there on your phone and zone out for a bit. But suddenly, you're waking up, to the feeling of a mouth on your own.

A familiar mouth. Warm, scruffy around the edges, a little pepperminty.

"We're done," Pedro whispers. "Coco says I can fuck up my makeup now."

When you open your eyes, he is hovering above you, grinning like a wolf. He's still in costume, though the denim overshirt is already half-unbuttoned.

"Are you done being gross?"

Sitting up, you find Bella in the doorway. They waste no time flinging themselves at the couch.

"In the flesh!" You both laugh.

"Shorter in person, huh?" Pedro is rewarded by a hearty shove from his costar, as he scrubs a makeup wipe across his face.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you can tell it's gotten dark outside in the time that you've been asleep. "Craig still insisting on dinner?"

"Mm. It's like fancy Mediterranean, I think."

"Fetaaaaa," Bella pumps the air. "Nice."

The evening stretches out before you— a few more obstacles between you and the hotel bed. But Pedro is here, in the flesh, and he's smiling at you in a way that forms the little crinkles beside his eyes, and you think maybe you can sit through a few hours of fancy dinner and small talk.

You've waited this long, anyways.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #joel miller #joel miller fluff #bella ramsey #bella ramsey and pedro pascal

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 1 year

Text

Role Reversal

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3.2k

Summary: Y/n is the mob boss 😎.

A/N: Anon Request: Can you write a Silver Springs au where reader is the MOB leader and Wanda is the civilian one? Update, I’m finally home!! My dogs didn’t miss me really, and I am too tired to write tonight, but I will start tomorrow with the requests. Enjoy!

Warnings: none

Wanda smiles as she takes a deep breath and basks in the wonderful smells that surround her. She’s in her kitchen cooking and in that moment, she realizes this is one of her favorite places to be. She’d rank it third probably, and she’s grateful that she gets to do this every day. She’s the owner and executive chef of a restaurant downtown that she’d opened with her brother close to a decade ago. It catered to anyone who wanted a home-cooked Eastern European meal. After fleeing her country with her brother at a young age when her parents died, she’d been desperate to find a way to honor them.

She remembered her time in the kitchen with her mother fondly and it was with her that she’d learned to love cooking. Despite not being able to bring much of anything with them, Wanda had managed to bring the old shoebox that held all of her mother’s recipes in them. She remembered how daunting it was moving to America and only having her brother with her. They were poor and desperate for money, and they had lived in and out of shelters and on the streets for months.

It wasn’t until Pietro made a risky decision to get involved with the mob that things started to turn around. He started to make money, and despite not telling his sister how she had grown suspicious relatively quickly. She’d managed to get a job of her own while looking for a place for them to live.

Three months later, they were off the streets and making enough money to start saving. Wanda struggled to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, and it was one night when she’d been cooking to cheer herself up that her brother suggested she open a restaurant. She’d laughed at this and told him that there was no way she could do that. She didn’t know the first thing about running a restaurant. She was barely working in one as it is. She felt like she was just being run ragged as a waitress and wasn’t really learning much other than that drunk college-aged men tipped poorly.

The next week, Pietro had signed her up for business courses at the local university. They’d gotten into their first fight since arriving to America about this because Wanda was scared. She didn’t want to fail at something that could mean so much to her. She’d love to open a restaurant and be able to cook what their mother had taught her every day. That said, she was afraid that if she failed at this, she would fail her mother as well.

It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Wanda went to school, continued to gain experience at a better restaurant job, and 5 years later she and Pietro were able to get a loan to start their own restaurant.

Then Wanda had met you.

One night Pietro had come home from his job hurt really badly and Wanda had freaked out. She’d known that his job was a little risky, he’d told her that he worked security for various night clubs and businesses, but nothing like this had ever happened. He’d been shot through and through in the arm and someone had gotten a few good punches in before back up had arrived.

Wanda had interrogated her brother for nearly an hour before he finally cracked and told her that he didn’t work security. Well, he did, but he was more personal security for one of the city’s most infamous criminals. Wanda hadn’t reacted immediately because she’d honestly been waiting for her brother to smile and tell her that he was just kidding. When this didn’t happen she started screaming at him.

This ordeal unfortunately led to Wanda making a very bad decision that involved following her brother one night when he left for work. She’d followed him downtown to a secluded area near the docks where a group of people were waiting for him. She’d nearly been shot when she accidentally tripped over some old shipping crates, and her embarrassing squeal gave away her location quickly.

She’d thrown her hands up immediately because she hadn’t known what else to do. This group of four men and one women were all armed with guns, and the woman who Wanda realized quickly was the boss had two dogs beside her that she feared almost more than the guns.

“Who might you be?”

Wanda still remembers to this day how your voice had caused a shiver to run up her spine. She hadn’t been able to see you very well in the dark, but she could see you smiling at her as one of your henchmen dragged her towards you. Wanda didn’t even get a chance to respond before Pietro recognized her and cursed in surprise. He’d been pissed at her and told her to go home, but you’d simply shaken your head and told him to take her home himself. He wasn’t needed tonight.

After that disastrous night, Pietro had thought he’d lost his job and Wanda had felt horrible about it. She only had the night to worry about money and how this would affect them when she woke up the next morning to a knock on the door. Pietro was still asleep and after looking through the peephole and not seeing anyone, Wanda opened the door to find a huge bouquet of flowers in a vase on the welcome mat.

Sorry for almost shooting you.

You’d signed your name and Wanda had immediately taken the flowers and set them on the counter. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with them, but they were very pretty and it was very unexpected for you to send them. When Pietro woke up, his sister was sitting at the counter on her computer looking into the mob boss that had almost shot her last night.

Wanda was still a little dazed when she ran into you again and you’d been just as apologetic as your note. Wanda had somehow convinced you that it was fine and from there something unexpected happened. She’d start to see you more, and eventually the two of you were almost friends. You only hung out when you weren’t busy which wasn’t often, but you’d given the brunette your phone number and told her to text you if she ever got bored.

You and Wanda started dating around the time that you fired Pietro. You’d told him that he’d still get paid, but you didn’t want him on your security team anymore. You were always at risk and therefore so were the people around you. You didn’t want Wanda to lose her brother because someone wanted to try and kill you. Pietro had been a little ticked and this only worsened when he realized that you were interested in his sister. Wanda had been touched and she’d kissed you for the first time only a week later.

Now, nearly a decade has passed and you and Wanda were married with a 4-year-old daughter. Natalya was a handful and the spitting image of your wife. So much so that it weirded you out sometimes, but you loved your family and you hated when you were away from them for even a minute.

You’re busy at work tonight and had left Natalya with her favorite uncle until Wanda was home. You’d already told her that you would be late, and given that she’d been married to you for so long she realized that this meant not to wait up. She’d finish up her shift at 6 and take their daughter home for dinner and then bedtime. The sound of the kitchen door opening and little feet padding across the floor made Wanda smile before she even turned around.

“Mommy!”

A small body slammed into her legs and she couldn’t help but laugh as she turns to see her daughter smiling up at her as she held her tightly.

“Hi there little one. Did you have a good day?”

Natalya, or ‘little Nat’ as you’ve taken to calling her, starts to tell Wanda all about her day at preschool and then her afternoon with her Uncle Pietro.

“He’s gonna teach me to jump out of a ‘copter!”

This is said with the type of excitement that only a child is capable of expressing as said uncle walks into the kitchen to find the wayward brunette. Wanda shoots her brother a look that he just smiles at before shrugging in defeat. He might not get to take his niece skydiving anytime soon now that the cat was out of the bag.

“Not until you’re older, milaya.”

Little Nat doesn’t have time to complain before her mom is picking her up and showing her what she’s been cooking. She loves how her daughter’s eyes light up in excitement and recognition at one of her favorite dishes. She’d been wanting to help her mom cook as soon as she could hold a spoon, and she knew these dishes well by now.

“Parikash, mommy can I have some?!”

Wanda smiles at her daughter but she shakes her head because this isn’t even close to done. She looks around to the other staff who are trickling in and realizes that her shift is almost up. She pinches Nat’s cheek when she realizes she’s frowning and she tries to cheer her up with promises of food soon.

“Sorry, Natalya this isn’t done, but we can have some of our own at home. What do you say?”

That’s how you find your wife and daughter when you arrive home a couple of hours later. It was an early night for you which you love and hate. Considering the circumstances of your last-minute change of plans you should be in a horrible mood. You might lose out on a lot of money because someone fucked up and was followed to the drop point for an important deal. That said, you could forget about that for now if you just allowed yourself to enjoy one of the rare days you’re home before Natalya’s bedtime.

“Mommy, you’re doing it wrong!”

You watch from the doorway as your daughter catches on quickly to Wanda’s ‘mistake.’ You know that your wife knows this recipe upside down, backwards and sideways, and she’s just testing your daughter to see how she’s learning. You both smile widely when she grabs the correct ingredient and tries to put it into the pot without cutting it. Despite being brilliant – you’re not biased at all, sometimes her enthusiasm causes her to skip important steps.

You blamed this on your wife’s similar excitement when she cooked, but Wanda wanted to pin it on you for some reason.

“Ah you’re right. So smart milaya.”

As you shut the door to the condo that you and Wanda have been living in for five years, the brunette immediately looks up at the sound. You really need to move your family to a larger place because the floor plan makes it near impossible for you to sneak up on anyone.

“Welcome home, detka. You’re early.”

You hear the unasked question but you just shake your head for now as you watch your daughter look up, and then realize that you’re home. She smiles widely and nearly trips twice in her rush to run over to you.

“Mom’s home!”

You hurry to meet her half way so she doesn’t fall on her face, and you let out an exaggerated groan as you lift your daughter up with a smile.

“Hey Little Nat. How was your day?”

Instead of giving you a play by play of events like she had for Wanda earlier, she just hugs you tightly before muttering under her breath. Wanda can’t hear what she says, but when she notices you frown a little she can’t help but wonder.

“You’re here. You’re never here.”

You can’t help but feel stung by the statement despite it being mostly true. You only see your daughter in the mornings since you’re usually out late at night working. You knew she wasn’t oblivious to this and that she was going to miss you, but seeing her so happy to have you here during the day makes you feel like a shitty parent. She’d requested that you watch some television with you while coloring and she would undoubtedly tell you about her day.

You take this time to head over to the kitchen to greet your wife with a tired sigh. She smiles sympathetically at you before meeting your lips for a kiss. When you pull away, Wanda’s shooting you a questioning look.

“How was your day, Y/n?”

You sigh again before shaking your head and muttering something about working with idiots under your breath. Wanda just chuckles at this before watching Natalya run out of her room and start to set out all of her supplies on the coffee table. You aren’t surprised to see what she’s brought and you know that you’re not going to be great at this.

“What about you, love? How was the restaurant today?”

Wanda tells you that work was good, but that she was glad to be home for the night. You agree with her and follow her to the living room when your daughter waves you over. You sit down and prepare to color absentmindedly as you talk to your daughter about her day, but you don’t get a chance to grab a crayon before the brunette shakes her head.

“No, Mom, watch.”

You smile and Wanda laughs as Nat decides she just wants to show you how to do it and she crawls into your lap with a fistful of crayons. You just listen carefully to your daughter tell you how to best color a giant fish. Wanda just watches in amusement as her wife who she is pretty sure still has her gun on her is instructed by their 4-year-old on the art of coloring. You sneak a peek at your wife and shoot her a charming smile.

“Mom you’re not watching!”

You immediately turn back to Nat and refocus on her drawing with a determined look.

“So sorry. Continue please.”

Wanda leaves briefly to check on dinner before she decides to just watch from the kitchen as you continue to humor Nat. You hug her close to you as you bask in the little free time you get with your daughter during the day. You know that your job isn’t ideal at all, not right now or long term. You want to be present for your wife and daughter and you need to try better. You aren’t sure how you could even consider leaving, but if you had the opportunity you had to take it.

As you watch your daughter color her fish like a rainbow you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You’ve always wanted a family, and you weren’t going to half-ass it because that wasn’t fair to anyone. You didn’t want your kids to be surprised when they got to see you twice daily.

You turn around while Nat’s distracted and look to Wanda with a sigh. You’ll have to talk to her about your plan tomorrow. Tonight, you just wanted to enjoy time with your family.

You jerk in surprise and it takes you a minute to realize that you had fallen asleep. You had just come in here to take a quick nap before dinner, and the next thing you know it’s nearly 8 o’clock. You frown as you stand up and try and find your wife. You figured that she was still downstairs since she wasn’t in the bedroom, and your assumption was proven right when you glance over the banister to see her sitting on the couch in front of the television with your two dogs.

“Hey, detka.”

You walk down the stairs quickly before you realize that you truly had missed dinner. It was mostly put away at this point, but you could see that Wanda had made a plate for you. You assumed the dogs were fed, and Boone even jumps off of his blanket to come greet you. Rogue only wags his tail when he sees you before laying his head back down in Wanda’s lap.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

You lean in and kiss her quickly before you steal Boone’s spot with a sigh. You’re exhausted from your day and you aren’t really surprised your nap turned into two hours instead of 15 minutes. You had needed the rest, but you didn’t like missing out on time with your family.

“It’s alright. You needed to sleep.”

You nod before glancing to the television to see what Wanda had been watching. You’re not surprised to see that it’s a nature show, and you turn back to her with a curious look.

“The little one is in bed, I assume?”

Wanda nods because she’d put Natalya to bed almost an hour ago. She’d wanted to stay up and wait for you, but despite her insistence she’d fallen asleep watching the elephants with Wanda on the couch. She’d used Boone as a pillow for most of the time because he was more tolerant of it than Rogue was. The older shepherd couldn’t comfortably accommodate a toddler, but luckily Boone loved to snuggle.

“Yes, she tried to wait for you.”

You smile at this and glance back upstairs as you consider going to kiss your daughter goodnight. You stop short though as you turn to your wife with a smile. She’s not sure what you’re going to say, but she definitely wouldn’t have guessed it no matter how much time you’d given her to think about it.

“While I was napping, I had a weird dream. I was the badass mob boss and you owned a Sokovian restaurant.”

You stand up with a stretch before you head over to the kitchen to grab yourself some dinner before going back to sleep. You know you’ve surprised Wanda because she doesn’t stop you or try to follow you immediately. She’s trying to figure out why you’d have a dream like this after so long. She’d been out of the business since Natalya was born and she’d convinced her brother that retirement had its perks. She wouldn’t be surprised if his new protégé didn’t take over within the next few years.

“You what? Wait, I don’t understand.”

Wanda struggles to stand from the couch because Rogue is dead weight and doesn’t want to move. He grumbles, but Wanda ignores him as she heads to the kitchen to try and get clarification. You don’t offer much as you put your food in the microwave before smiling and heading upstairs.

“Yeah, Little Nat was there and everything. Speaking of…I’m going to go say goodnight. I’ll be back.”

Wanda thinks about stopping you and asking you to tell her everything, but she figures that if it had been anything important you would tell her. She’s curious as to why you’d have this dream, and why you were the one to be a criminal. She doesn’t think about it for much longer as it occurs to her that this might have to do with the role playing from the other night…

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #wanda x you #silver springs #silver springs drabble #silver springs au

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weeeeeekly · 1 month

Text

“are you okay?” – mark lee x reader

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blurb On Earth-127, Mark is an ordinary biomed major at Neo Culture Institute of Technology, but when he’s not studying for class, he’s out saving New York City as Spider-Man. The job is hard, but he manages it. It also doesn’t hurt that his new friend is just his type.

info not edited, no afab/fem mention, mainly gender neutral, no reader body shape mention, no use of y/n, swearing, non-idol au, college au, college student!mark, spiderman!mark (obvi), reader is assigned lactose intolerant. johnny & jaehyun as mark’s besties. mark & reader are 22 and johnny & jaehyun are 24. everyone else is 21. ft. jungwoo & 00 line of nct/riize as frat bros. loosely based off a combo of the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house, 200 music video, & superman ii

WARNINGS!!! SFW but MDNI 18+ blog, kinda suggestive but nothing explicit in this, swearing, mentions of almost dying, not proofread just pure free flowing thought, mention of vaping (not by mark or reader), & mention of consuming alcohol

wc: 7.8k

author’s note !! HAPPY belated MFING BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL BOYF MARK LEE. i meant to post this right after 200 came out, then for his birthday, and now it’s finally finished as an early birthday present for myself… this is very much self-indulgent.

a passion project if you will. i hope there are others that also have spider-mark brain rot. ESPECIALLY AFTER 200!!! it was bad before like in the ncit house video, but it’s even worse now. a real labor of love except everything i do is a labor of love because why would i write about something i’m not passionate about in my free time.

this is FICTION!!!!! everything is made up by me or inspired by the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house video, & mark’s 200 music video. the stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned.

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Mark loves his job.

Nothing made him happier than donning the red and blue one-piece suit with the arachnoid symbol on the center of the chest and pulling down the matching mask. He was pretty proud of his sewing skills. Hopefully the elderly owner of the downtown fabric store never puts the puzzle pieces together.

He was still fairly new to being Spider-Man – only being bitten at the beginning of last semester and using the summer to work out the kinks – this spring semester would show his improvement.

His school schedule was class schedule was calm with classes only on Tuesday and Thursday in the morning and evening with the rest online. With the perfect amount of time throughout busy days to sneak away to patrol the city. The rest of the weekdays were dedicated to working at the college radio station. It allowed Mark to work around his own schedule as he could pre-record segments and cue up pre-made playlists.

The morning of the first day of the new semester was looking like an average day, helping civilians with minimal tasks like crossing busy streets and saving pets in trees.

Swinging to university was his favorite form of transportation as it was convenient but at the same time fun as sailing through the air was incomparable to any other experience. Mark landed on the roof of the old bell tower as he quickly changed into a pair of clothes he stashed in a hidden backpack on the ceiling ledge. Nothing too exciting, just a maroon tee, brown cargo pants, and black converse. He made quick work to stash his suit inside his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

He walked down the spiral staircase as he put on his headphones and checked his phone.

apartment 721

johnny dude r u coming to shoot some hoops?

jaehyun are we playing basketball or should I skip for football practice?

mark be there in 5

Mark raced across the university lawn, passing unassuming students that would never know his secret. The early morning hours provided more security for his secret as most people around him were either too busy rushing to their 8 AM lecture or too tired from pulling another all-nighter.

When he reached the basketball courts, Mark tucked his bag in between Jaehyun’s massive athletic bag and Johnny’s decked out in pins and patches. The duo was goofing off with a basketball as they made obnoxious moves before shooting for the hoop.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.”

Johnny pauses as he turns toward his best friend before tossing the ball. Mark effortlessly catches it due to his built-up reflexes from stopping local crimes.

“Yo guess who finally decided to show up.” Johnny remarks as Mark makes a 3 pointer.

Jaehyun and Johnny both share a look as the former greets Mark, “You’ve gotten really good at basketball in a short amount of time… like crazy good.”

“Yeah man. You used to not be able to even get the ball in while standing still, but now you’re even better than Mr. Team Captain over here.”

Mark shrugs as he dribbles the ball, “I’m not even close to Jaehyun’s level, dude. He’s the best player.”

“Okay then go to the other side of the court and make it in.”

Mark looks at Johnny as Jaehyun chugs some water but gives in as he walks to the end of the court.

Mark is pretty sure that his sharp reflexes only work for short distances or when he’s out being Spider-Man, so the dare shouldn’t tip his best friends off. Mark dribbles the ball a bit before throwing the ball in the direction of the hoop.

Luckily, the ball goes over the hoop and proving to Johnny and Jaehyun that he still sucks at basketball, but unluckily almost hits a passerby.

You.

“Airball!”

You turn to the source of the noise as you let out a surprised yell as you duck to avoid the rouge basketball, falling to the ground and letting out a string of curses. Mark rushes over after his Spidey senses went off, shooting a ball of webs to knock it off its course of hitting you.

“Are you okay?”

You look up to see a concerned Mark as he helps you up, “Dude, I am so sorry. That could have ended really badly. Did you get hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Johnny and Jaehyun follow Mark to check up on you as you stare at the 3 attractive men paying too much attention to you.

“I’m okay, really. I didn’t even get hit. Just was caught off guard.”

The trio are unconvinced as they inspect your arms and head. Mark is focused on checking for any injury – even a millimeter of a scratch – on your right arm as Jaehyun checks the range of motion on your left arm and Johnny is asking you how many fingers he’s holding up.

“I’m not hurt, but I’ll still get checked up the clinic.” You bargain to get the attractive strangers to stop dotting over you.

“I’ll walk you!” Mark volunteers as he grabs your backpack off the floor and waves bye to his friends. Johnny and Jaehyun refuse to leave until they exchange their number with you to check up but also to make it up to you later. You tell them that it’s not necessary, but the pair insist as Mark gets you to leave.

He quickly introduces himself and you do it in return. Walking to the clinic was peaceful as both you and Mark’s steps were in sync. The crisp spring air helped calm your nerves. You know that you weren’t hurt but it would be best to get a check-up by a nurse.

“I’m really sorry again.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Let’s just get you to the clinic.”

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After a quick check-up with a nurse, you are deemed “okay” with no external or internal injuries. Mark gives you back your backpack as you thank him and are returned with another long string of apologies.

“Here, let me – no us – make it up to you.” Mark opens his phone to create a group chat between the four of you.

we’re sorry

mark if ur free this week we would like to buy u lunch

bc dinner sounds like a date

not that we wouldn’t date u

u seem great !

this is mark btw

johnny what mark is trying to say is that we don’t want to make you uncomfortable

but we also want to make it up to you so lunch this week - johnny

jaehyun it’s jaehyun i know a great café w vegan options

you you guys really don’t have to make it up to me

i’m okay !! a nurse checked me

johnny thank god ur not hurt

“So, are you free this week?”

You look away from your phone at Mark staring at you. You quickly look away at the students walking past you. You feel nervous as Mark is cute and being near him is not helping your poor heart.

“Yeah, I can do Wednesday or this weekend.”

You have to work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with your two in-person classes on the other days and your two fully online classes spread throughout the week. Luckily, working at the bookstore on campus was flexible and allowed you to complete homework whenever you had free time.

“I know this is an annoying question, but what’s your year and major?”

“I’m a sophomore majoring in Health Sciences.”

Mark’s eyes light up, “I’m a sophomore too! But I’m a Biomed major. We’re kinda in similar majors.”

“We might even have a class together.” You joke and let out a laugh, but your mouth shuts as Mark has his printed schedule in hands and extended in your direction.

Your joke turns out to be true as you both share the same evening class on Tuesday and Thursday. Which is a good thing because at least you know someone in that class. A friend possibly.

“Do you work?”

“I work at the radio, so if you ever tune into 27.1 FM you will hear playlists I put together.”

“Ugh, that sounds like such a fun job. I work at the bookstore. I mean, don’t get me wrong I like it there, but it’s never busy for my shifts.”

A notification on Mark’s phone makes him freeze up, but before you can ask what’s wrong he quickly bids you goodbye as he rushes off. You decide to head to work and hope that nothing else out of the ordinary happens today.

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On the plus side, your shared class with Mark has been going well so far. During the first class the day after you met him, you got to the classroom early and saved him a seat.

You watch as people slowly trickle into class as you held out a small hope that Mark would want to sit next to you. The class was almost full with just a handful of seats left – two directly in front of the professor’s podium, one in the very back by the other door, and the one you’ve been saving. He arrives at the last minute, and you watch him scan the room, hopefully looking for you, but once your eyes meet and Mark grins, your heart started racing.

Squeezing between people already in their seats, he reaches the open seat as you move your backpack from the chair to under the table. The professor starts the first day lecture of going over the syllabus, but you tune them out as your attention was… elsewhere.

Mark sits next to you, typing on his laptop as the professor talks. His outfit is a simple green hoodie with tan cargo pants and beat up black converse, yet the outfit compliments him. His hair is fluffy and a little messy as he runs his hand through it in an attempt to fix it. You notice that he’s breathing hard like he ran to get to class. You reach into your backpack to grab your water bottle and place it next to his hand. Mark pauses from typing notes as you turn your head back to the professor.

“Thanks.” He mumbles as he drinks the water.

“Don’t worry, I have another water bottle in my car. You can just give it back to me next class.” You whisper back while pretending to be interested in the professor’s grading policy.

When the second class rolls around, you’re surprised to see Mark is the first person in class, sitting in the same spot with his backpack on the seat you were sitting in last time and your water bottle on the table.

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Saturday is the only day you are all free for lunch. Jaehyun, who keeps telling you to call him Jae, promises that this lunch will be the best lunch of your life and how he knows a worker. He’s brought it up every time he saw you while you were working. Johnny was no help either as he kept asking you super specific questions you would have no idea how to answer.

Johnny leans on a display table full of notebooks while flipping through a psychology textbook, “What kind of wood is this table?”

You let out another deep sigh as you put on your customer service voice to answer yet another question from Johnny Suh. “Sorry, I don’t know.”

“Do you know someone who would?”

Johnny smirks as he puts on his sunglasses. You turn around to reshelve new chemistry textbooks when a tap on your shoulder has you seeing Jaehyun holding a cookbook open.

“Do you like” He turns the cookbook back to himself as he squints, “Maultaschen?”

“What do you know about Germany?”

Jaehyun closes the cookbook as he shoots you his best dimpled smile, “Nothing.”

“Guys, I’m trying to work.”

“Yeah, and we’re being customers.”

Johnny sasses you as he pushes the cart of textbooks away from you. “Don’t pretend that we don’t make your shifts better.”

You can’t argue that because it is true, but you’re also afraid that your boss might think you’re slacking and goofing around with friends on the clock.

“I do love it when you guys come see me while I’m working, but I don’t want my boss to think I’m slacking.”

Jaehyun leans on your shoulder as he looks around the empty bookstore. “Bro, you’re the best employee here by far, but if your boss thinks otherwise, we can give a good review.”

“You? Slacking?” Johnny lets out a laugh as puts some textbooks on the highest shelf. “Slacking is scared of you. And Spider-Man.”

“Here he goes.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes as Johnny scoffs.

“Spider-Man is the coolest superhero ever. I’m jealous of all the people that get to see him work in real time.”

“Spider-Man?”

Johnny’s jaw drops, “Yo… you don’t know Spider-Man? You know, the masked guy in blue and red and has a spider sign on his chest. Stops bank robbers and saves people in car crashes. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

“Oh… his name is Spider-Man?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna brag, but” Johnny leans closer to you, “I basically coined the name. The story’s really cool and super long, so I’ll save it for lunch.”

The other brunette fixes his backpack straps, “I should head to basketball practice soon, but we’ll text you later with the details. See you tomorrow.”

The duo leaves you to finish your tasks, but with less work as they helped while talking to you. You can’t help fighting the smile on your face at the idea of having plans with friends.

Lunch! With friends! Friends that you made in university and not the same friends you had back home that you knew from elementary school.

Maybe things were looking up for you.

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Spider-Man business had never been easier. Petty thefts had gone down. The city was running smoothly like normal, which was great for Mark as he could focus on schoolwork and improving his swinging skills.

Currently, the vigilante was patrolling the city on the lookout for any danger. Nothing was coming through the crime watch app connected to his watch. He has 10 more minutes until lunch with Johnny, Jaehyun, and You.

Once he reaches the café building’s rooftop, Mark drops down and enters through the stairwell door going directly into the janitor’s room to change. The doors are unlocked, which is not the safest but it’s convenient for Mark, he quickly changes into a white tee, light wash jeans, and the same black converse. The suit and mask are stuffed into his backpack as he goes back out to the roof to web down to the ground to enter through the café entrance like a normal person.

He's constantly on the lookout as he drops down near the trash bins. When he walks in, Mark is the first out of your group to arrive. He snags a booth in the corner as he checks his phone.

we’re sorry

mark i got us a booth

jaehyun be there in 5

image attached

Mark smiles at the selfie Jaehyun took with him and Johnny on either side of you. Jaehyun does a peace sign pose, Johnny is making a kissy face, and you’re just softly smiling. A smile that Mark Lee cannot look away from.

“What are you looking at?”

Mark gets spooked by you as Johnny and Jaehyun slide into the opposite side leaving you to sit next to him. He quickly locks his phone as his roommates give him teasing looks.

The server, Na Jaemin from fraternity Dream, hands out menus and readies his tablet. “Hi. Can I get you all started with any drinks?”

“2 vanilla iced coffees, 1 mango smoothie, and 1 ice matcha latte with coconut milk.” Johnny easily recites as Jaemin types it.

“I’ll be back with those as you look over the menu.”

As Jaemin walks away, you look surprised at Johnny, “How did you know my drink order?”

“You’ve sent a selfie with the same drink the past three days.”

You slump back against the cushion. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Not as embarrassing as Johnny thinking he named Spider-Man.”

Mark tenses at the mention of his other identity. He steals a glance in your direction to see if you noticed, but you’re too busy watching his friends start bickering.

“Bro! I totally did!”

“No, dude. You did not.”

Before the duo can start up another pointless fight, you remind Johnny of his story time.

“At least someone’s interested. As I was saying before, it was early October last year and I was walking to the subway when this massive car crash happened in front of me. I thought I was going to get killed, but then I was suddenly out of the way. Some dude in spandex had pulled me out of the way of one of the cars and then he started pulling people out of the wreck. He even jumped over a 10-ton truck. It was insane. After the fire department and ambulance came to help, the dude shot out a web and it came to me, “Spider-Man”, so I yelled that, and he turned around to give me a thumbs up before swinging away. So basically Spider-Man owes me for that copyright, but I’ll let it slide because he saved my life.”

Mark laughs at Johnny’s retelling of the story because of the way he tells people. The superhero was just glad that he had the spidey sense to save one of his best friends.

Jaemin comes back with the drinks and takes food orders.

“Spider-Man is cool. I’m a fan.”

Mark chokes on the first sip of his smoothie from your casual confession as Johnny high fives you.

“Why do you like the Spider Boy?” Jaehyun questions you. Mark sits up slightly straighter in his seat as he focuses all his attention on your answer.

“Do you remember that major subway incident where some asshole pushed that lady onto the tracks?”

The guys nod their heads.

“I was waiting for the train when it happened. I didn’t see the asshole that did it as I was on my phone, but then the frantic yelling of people started and some good samaritans trying to help the lady off the tracks. Then, all of the sudden, Spider-Man runs in and saves her. Thank god he did before the train arrived and he calmed her down while she told him about the person who did it. I just remember feeling so useless but wanting to do more.”

Mark looks over at you as you stir your drink with a spoon, his heart sinking as he remembers. It was the first time he became a hero. The first person he saved – Ms. Smith works at the corner flower shop that his mom loves.

“And I even… never mind.”

“No finish your sentence.”

“Johnny’s going to make fun of me.”

“I won’t let him.”

“Well, I kinda have a crush on him.” You immediately put your head between your arms on the table in an effort to hide away.

Mark freezes at your confession as Jaehyun lets out an “awe” and Johnny’s jaw drops.

“You like Spider-Man?”

“I know. How do you even like a person when you’ve never seen their face, but it’s his personality. In every story about him saving or helping others, he’s always described as the nicest person ever.”

Mark’s ears are turning red from the compliment. He would have asked for what else you thought about Spider-Man, but Jaemin came back with their orders.

“Yo Jaehyun, are you coming to DREAM’s party Friday?”

“I should be free next week if that invitation extends to my friends.”

“Any friend of Jaehyun’s is a friend of mine. Can you get the football team to bring kegs again? Haechan’s throwing the party this time and he won’t shut the fuck up about it.”

“I can get the guys together to do that. I’ll text him.”

“Thanks man. Enjoy your food, guys.”

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You and Mark meet up and walk to class together. He fills you in on all the bullshit Johnny and Jaehyun got into over the weekend. Something about making a short film where they switch bodies and tried to get Mark to film it.

Before you both can enter the building where your class is, the distant sound of sirens gets closer. You ignore it as you go to open the door, but Mark stops you.

“I, um, have a family emergency so I’ll miss class. Text me. Bye.” Mark weirdly stammers before giving you a quick hug.

You’re left standing in shock as he runs away.

Mark runs to the dumpster behind the university as he quickly changes into his suit. He stuffs his clothes in his backpack and webs it to a lamppost before heading into action. His spidey sense alerted him as soon as the sirens passed, and the app informed him of a fire in an apartment complex a street up.

Once he swings onto the scene, firefighters are battling the fire and evacuating the building. Mark propels himself to the top floor to check for any civilians.

You’re concerned about Mark as he left abruptly and isn’t responding to any of your texts.

you i hope your family emergency isn’t too serious

just let me know you’re ok!

we didn’t do too much in class, but i’ll send my notes

going to the library after class to print something for a class

You’ve never been to the library at 10 PM on a Tuesday night, but there’s a first time for everything. It was shitty that your printer in your dorm had to stop working last night. The first floor of the library was unsurprisingly packed with students as the university’s coffee shop was adjoined and open until 2 AM.

You got into the elevator as the printers were located on the fourth floor. The fourth floor was empty because most people preferred to keep electronic files electronic, but of course your morning class’ professor made the class print their papers to turn in.

Printing the paper was a quick task. There was certainly no line to wait in. You tuck the sacred 5-page paper into a folder to keep pristine and leave the library. You check your phone again for any word from Mark, but nothing. You go to call him, but then the elevator jerks to a stop as the light shuts off. You press the emergency call button and wait for an operator. You try calling Mark again, but your phone can’t get cell service and your battery’s dying.

Sinking to your knees, you hang your head between your hands as the ringing becomes background noise.

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Mark rushes back to university after the fire, swiftly changing back and shoving his suit into his bag. He checks his phone to see the texts from you and calls you. When your call goes immediately to voicemail, he knows something is wrong.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up and Mark books it to the library. The first floor is filled with chatter and students looking normal so he knows that only you must be in trouble. He goes to the elevators where there’s a student waiting for one.

“Are you waiting for the elevator?”

The girl looks up from texting, “Yup, the other one isn’t working again. Ugh so annoying.”

Fuck.

The other elevator returns and Mark steps in with the girl. She presses the next floor and goes back to her phone.

A million scenarios play out in Mark’s mind. Were you claustrophobic? How long have you been stuck in the elevator? Were you alone?

The silent ride was eating him alive as every second felt like an eternity.

When the doors open and Mark basically throws himself out of the elevator as the girl walks around him, judging. Mark’s senses aren’t going off on the second or third floor, he goes up again.

The second the elevator starts moving up to the fourth floor, his senses kick in. When the doors open, Mark calls out your name. When your muffled voice responds from the neighboring elevator he sighs in relief.

“Mark, can you help me?”

“Is help on the way?”

“No.” Mark starts freaking out. “The emergency button doesn’t work, and my phone died a little while ago, but it wouldn’t even help because my service wasn’t working.”

“Why didn’t you call 911?”

“I’m not dying or in serious trouble!”

“W-what? This is an emergency! Hold on let me get someone!”

Mark runs down the hallway and quick changes into Spider-Man. He shoves his backpack behind a printer in the back corner and runs back to you.

Mark clears his throat before speaking in a lower tone, “Hi!”

“Um hi?”

“I’m going to open the elevator doors, so please stand back!”

“Okay!”

Mark places his hands in the middle of both doors as he pushes the doors open by force. After getting them open he holds out a hand to you as you look at him, well Spider-Man, in shock.

“Spider-Man?”

“Are you okay?”

You feebly nod as you allow Mark to pull you towards him.

“Are you sure you’re fine? I can take you to a clinic.”

You shake your head as Mark leads you down the stairs to the first floor while calming you down, passing confused or excited students. When both of you reach the entrance, Mark tells a skeptical security guard about the broken elevator.

Mark is about to swing away to change when you grab his hand. “Did you see my friend? He has brown hair, brown eyes, wearing a yellow hoodie?”

“I sensed there was someone in trouble and he said he was finding a janitor.”

“Thanks, I’ll go find him. And, um, thank you again.”

Mark looks into your eyes full of gratitude and sends you a wave before swinging away. He makes sure to get far enough before u-turning to the back of the library to change. 5 minutes later, he’s running around to the entrance where you are still standing in shock.

Mark pulls you into a hug as you tell him how Spider-Man saved you.

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Haechan’s party was tonight, and you had no idea what you were going to wear.

Jaehyun had surprised you at 8 in morning by waking you up, endlessly calling your phone until you told him the password to open the door. A code you were going to immediately change after he leaves.

“Jae, it’s too early for any bullshit.”

He moves his sunglasses from his face to push back his hair, looking dangerously sexy. You have to shield your eyes from his blinding attractiveness.

“I need some help getting the kegs from Jungwoo.”

“Ugh,” You draw out the word as you throw one of your extra pillows at him which he catches, “I don’t want to get up.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun says as he effortlessly picks you up from your bed. “Now you’re up.”

“Put me down, Jeong.”

“Woah, not the last name. Putting you down.”

He gently sets you on your feet from the princess carry he was holding you in.

“I don’t want to know where you’re storing all that muscle to be able to pick me up.”

He smirks, “Wanna see my 8 pack?”

“Absolutely not. Now stand outside in the lobby so I can change.”

You meet him in the lobby after quickly throwing on an oversized shirt and biker shorts. You check over your bag that you have everything you need for the day – your phone, lip balm, sunscreen, your wallet, hand sanitizer, blotting sheets, and your water bottle.

“Okay, I guess I’m ready to tackle the day with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not doing anything too crazy.”

“I have very little trust in you at 8:30 AM.”

He puts his free hand on his chest as he fakes getting hurt, “You wound me.”

You roll your eyes in response as you start walking out of your dorm building, Jaehyun following you from behind.

Jaehyun leads the way to the football field as you walk next to him. The walk isn’t too bad and soon enough you hear various guys yelling and spot footballs flying through the air.

“Hey Jungwoo!”

A shirtless, blonde guy jogs up to the you two and dabs Jaehyun up.

“Hey Captain! I thought you weren’t coming to practice until later?” Jungwoo smiles before turning to you, “Oh, and you are?”

You politely introduce yourself as Jungwoo stares into your soul. “It’s a shame I haven’t seen your pretty face around.”

His remark takes you aback as you turn in shock to Jaehyun.

“Right? Imagine my surprise when I saw her for the first time.”

You avoid eye contact, not sure how to respond. “Um… thanks. We’re here to pick up some kegs?”

“Oh right! Let me get Yangyang.”

Jungwoo calls out to another guy behind him, thankfully he is clothed because you don’t know if you could survive another attractive, shirtless guy. He runs up as he greets you.

“I have it in my car, so follow me. Jungwoo, tell coach I went to the nurse or something.”

“Okay!”

Jungwoo jogs off to get back to practice. You and Jaehyun follow Yangyang to his car so he can drop you off at the DREAM frat house. The drive is short since the fraternity and sorority houses are near campus and the sports facilities.

Outside of the DREAM fraternity house on the front lawn are a few guys running around with water guns. The three of you get out of the car, grabbing their attention. Yangyang and Jaehyun wave at them causing one of them to run inside. As the kegs are being unloaded from the trunk, who you presume Haechan is, walks out.

The pretty boy with purple hair waves at you as he takes a hit from his neon green vape. He walks over as he blows a fat cloud into the air and pockets the vape.

He nods his head at you and leans against Yangyang’s car. “Hey.”

“Hi?”

“Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Cool.” He wets his lips as he looks you up and down, “Wear something hot, ‘kay?”

“Okay?”

He gets off Yangyang’s car as he winks at you.

“Thanks for the kegs. I’ll get the guys to bring them into the garage.”

Haechan taps his phone causing the garage door to open showing you the set of workout equipment on the side and a black Porsche parked inside. 2 guys with blonde and Oreo hair come out from the door inside and start moving the kegs.

“Hey Shotaro! Hey Renjun!”

Jaehyun calls out as the frat bros wave back at him.

“So, are you ready to go?” Yangyang stands next to you as you nod. He opens the passenger door for you to get inside. Jaehyun sits smack in the middle in the uncomfortable seat so he can talk to you.

“What next?”

“Our pretty girl might need a shopping trip.”

You felt like the “ugly” but actually stunning main girl whose only transformation is taking off their glasses or hair out from a ponytail and it’s the makeover montage scene in a 2000s romcom. Jaehyun and Yangyang were running around in the local mall piling on different types of clothes into your arms to try on.

Two hours passed by already and you were getting sweaty from trying on the various combinations of tops, skirts or jeans, and dresses. It was annoyingly sweet of Jaehyun and Yangyang, who you just met today, to go out of their way to help you find something to wear.

“Honestly, I could find something in my closet or a thrift store.”

“If we don’t find something in the next 30 minutes I know a good thrift store.” Yangyang throws a black minidress at you and you let it hit your face.

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As you walk down the street where Johnny parked while fixing the biker shorts under your dress.

Johnny opens the front door of the fraternity only for you to be greeted by the sight of a hundred or so people engaging in various acts of grinding, making out, drinking, or dancing to whatever playlist DJ Yangyang picked.

“Oh my god.” You walk in as Jaehyun and Johnny tail behind you, making sure to stare down anyone who looks at you in a mean or creepy way.

You smile and wave at Yangyang in the corner of the living room as he motions at your trio to come over. The three of you move through the crowd of people partying and try not to have any kind of alcohol accidentally spilling on your new outfit.

Yangyang removes the headphones from his head to his neck and talks in your ear, “You look hot!”

“Thank you! Can we get you anything?”

“Whatever has the least amount of alc by volume.”

“Got it.”

Johnny, Jaehyun, and You find the kitchen entrance behind Yangyang’s DIY DJ booth and open the various coolers filled with alcohol. Johnny helps you pick out Yangyang’s drink from the sea of canned beverages while Jaehyun gets drinks for you all.

As you walk back to give Yangyang his drink, Haechan is talking to him and spots you getting closer to them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight to behold.”

Haechan holds a handout as you take it, spinning you around him.

“That dress fits you perfectly.”

You shyly thank him as you did feel amazing in the red and black dress you bought at a thrift store after the three of you gave up at the mall earlier, but you hid the dress from them so you could pay for it. Jaehyun couldn’t stop staring at you and Johnny couldn’t stop complimenting you when they picked you up from your dorm. You felt that you needed to donate some of your old clothes to keep the good streak going.

The people around you start yelling and both of your heads turn in the direction of the kitchen when a loud crash is heard.

“Fuck. I bet someone tipped over a keg stand. Gotta go.”

He winks at you as he walks into the kitchen. You look around the room to see that J² are nowhere to be seen.

you hey!! where did you guys go??

johnny we’re upstairs hanging with mark

johnny jeno and jaemin are coming down to get u

You stand by the end of the staircase as you scroll on your phone when someone taps the back of your shoulder. Turning around to see 2 more beautiful guys as they smile at you. The guy with black hair and an undercut introduces himself as Jeno and the guy with brown hair introduces himself as Jaemin.

J² sent 2J to get you. Funny.

They kindly escort you upstairs, down a hallway on the left, and to the room at the end. The door has a sign that says

“HAECHANNIE’S ROOM!

LADIES - FREE

GUYS - $20”

You knock on the door and walk in after Johnny says it’s open.

“Hey.” You greet Johnny, Jaehyun, and Mark who are sitting on the bed with various drinks and snacks surrounding them. Mark moves a reuseable bag full of chips so you can sit next to him as Jeno and Jaemin sit on beanbags.

“So, how’s the party going for y’all?” You ask the frat bros as you dig into a bag of your favorite chips.

Jeno and Jaemin jump into a story of how Renjun challenged Haechan and Shotaro to a keg stand contest where Shotaro won and Haechan complained the rest of the time setting up. Haechan also must carry out a dare later tonight, but Renjun is keeping it a secret.

During the story, you keep looking at Mark to see his expressions throughout the story time. You like him, you realized this after Spider-Man saved you in the elevator, the way Mark comforted you and stayed with you the entire night. Even sleeping on the pull-out bed attached to your bed that was a little too small for him. Mark was paying attention to the story, but right after 2J finished telling the story, he abruptly gets up and runs out the room.

“Is Mark okay?” You ask bewildered as the rest of the guys are nonchalant.

“Oh yeah, Mark does this a lot.” Jaemin tells you as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Really?”

Johnny nods, “Yeah ever since the start of last year Mark’s been really weird like weirder than usual.”

“And stronger for some reason.” Jaehyun adds. “We started working out together last semester. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he maxed out the bench press. I can’t do that and I’m active in sports.”

“So now we think he’s doing steroids.”

“Dude don’t say that.”

“Kidding,” Johnny says as he looks at you. “But there is something going on… like he’s keeping a secret from us.”

“Are you insinuating that Mark is Spider-Man?”

Johnny shrugs. “I didn’t say that, but I also did not not say that.”

“I think you’ve had to much to drink, dude.”

“I’m literally sober. I have to drive you and Jaehyun home tonight.”

As you’re handing Johnny a bottle of water, Shotaro opens the door.

“Johnny or Jaehyun, can you please talk Haechan out of jumping from the roof into the pool.”

The two oldest guys let out a sigh as they get up to stop Haechan from doing something stupid and getting hurt.

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Your little group stands outside on the pool deck as people crowd around the pool chanting at Haechan to “jump”. Johnny and Jaehyun are sticking their head out of someone’s room scolding a tipsy Haechan who is standing near the ledge. It’s only 7 feet between the roof and the pool, but the pool is another 6 feet to dive into and the entire situation just screams “danger” to you.

Haechan is getting dangerously close to the edge causing Johnny to step out onto the roof as Jaehyun holds one of his hands.

“Haechan, we’re bringing you inside.”

“No.” He puffs a cloud of vape into Johnny’s face.

“You’re being an asshole, get in.”

Haechan’s balance is off because as he steps back a bit, his right foot misses the ledge. You can’t watch. The crowd is yelling. You look away only to see a figure jump over the fence.

Spider-Man thwips a web to put an inflatable pool floatie a foot of the ground with another floatie under it to cushion Haechan’s fall. Thankfully, Haechan falls right on the floatie and is safe from breaking a bone or something worse on the concrete.

“Are you okay?” The masked hero asks Haechan as he helps him stand up and check his body.

An eerily similar situation that mirrors exactly what Mark did when you were almost hit by a basketball.

Rushing over to Haechan, you hug him as you’re actively scolding him.

“Never do that ever again! You could have broken your legs or spine or died!”

“Excuse me.” Spider-Man clears his throat as you turn your head to him. “Are you a friend of his?”

“Yes.”

“It would be best to check that he doesn’t have any injuries and keep him inside.”

“Johnny’s probably going to bubble wrap him now.”

“I have to go now but have a good night.”

Spider-Man waves you and everyone else at the party bye as the crowd cheers for him. He then swings out of DREAM’s backyard as Johnny, Jaehyun, Jeno, and Jaemin meet you outside. They all hug Haechan and scold him as well.

“You’re cut off.”

“Seriously?” Haechan whines.

“From everything. End of discussion.”

Most of the crowd disperses inside to tell or show their friends a video of Spider-Man saving Haechan. You’re putting the pool floaties back in the pool when you almost fall in.

“Hey–woah there!”

You look wide up at Mark, who appeared out of nowhere, holding your waist to stop you from accidentally falling in the pool.

“Mark! Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime.”

You stand back up away from the pool ledge as you smile at Mark. You notice that he’s sweating a bit.

“Could we head inside? I, um, wanted to ask you something.”

He nods his head as the two of you walk inside and then upstairs where there aren’t that many people. You hear commotion in the hallway that leads to Haechan’s room. You’re both curious, so you walk down the hallway to see Jaehyun standing guard outside his room.

“What is happening?”

“Johnny is inside making sure Haechan can’t escape out his window. Well, if he can get out of the bubble wrap duct taped to his body.”

“Figures. Mark and I are going to talk in someone’s room.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun gives you a look.

“We’re not going to fuck in someone’s bed.”

“Sure it isn’t.”

Mark blushes as you grab his hand to walk away down the other hallway. You spot Shotaro standing outside his door.

“Hey Shotaro! Can we borrow your room to talk quickly?”

“Yeah! Just lock the door after and find me at the DJ booth when you’re done. I don’t want a repeat of the first day of summer party where someone threw up in my bed.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, we won’t fuck in your bed.”

You make Shotaro speechless and Mark blushes even harder. You open the door to Shotaro’s room and get inside. His room is cutely decorated with pictures of him alongside the rest of the fraternity and tiny little trinkets sprinkled throughout. The window is open and as you look out of it you can see that his room overlooks the grassy area beside the pool.

A thought comes into your head as you look at Mark who is sitting on Shotaro’s bed across from you.

“I’ve got a lot to say so please hear me out for its entirety.” He nods his head as you stand in front of him. “Mark, I have a crush on you. I thought you were cute the first time I saw you after that basketball almost took me out. I was so excited when we ended up sharing a class together and you sat next to me the next class after we met. Then when you comforted me after Spider-Man saved me. That was the moment I knew that I liked you. I like you, Mark. Maybe even more than that.”

He stares at you awestruck.

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back. Hope we can still be friends no matter what. I just want you to know.”

“I like you too. A lot. I liked you ever since I almost accidentally hit you with a basketball. I liked you when you were excited when you found out we shared a class. I liked you when you saved a seat for me and let me borrow your water bottle. I was so happy when you were safe from being trapped in an elevator. I really like you and, if you want to, I hope we can date.”

“I would love to date you, Mark, but now I’m going to do something that might ruin our relationship before it even starts?”

Mark looks adorably confused as you walk backwards to stand in front of the window.

“You know that I also have a crush on Spider-Man. And I’ve had this hunch since he saved me in the elevator. I didn’t realize it when it was happening due to the adrenaline, but then thinking back on it – when you left while we were walking to class that one time for a “family emergency” and Spider-Man had been spotted right helping firefighter put out a nearby fire. Then, I got stuck in the library elevator and Spider-Man miraculously came to save me. Sure, it could have been a coincidence since the fire was near the university, but I wasn’t in that dire of a situation. I could’ve waited for you to find me after I texted you. Then, just right now, you leave as we’re talking with 4J then when Haechan is in danger Spider-Man shows up in the nick of time to save him? In every situation I brought up, you were there then gone, Spider-Man shows up then leaves, and then you’re back? Never in the same room to witness the masked hero. Something’s not adding up.”

“Am I Spider-Man?” Mark asks while nervously laughing. “You mean you think I’m Spider-Man?”

“I’d bet my life on it.” You tell him seriously as you sit on the window ledge.

“That’s serious.”

“I am serious.”

You continue getting farther out of the window as you possibly can.

Mark slowly stands up, “What are you doing?”

“If I’m wrong… have 9-1-1 ready.”

You then lean back as you fall out of Shotaro’s window hearing Mark yell your name, you barely have your entire body out the window when you stop moving. Opening your eyes, bunches of white strings surround your head and shoulders – Mark slowly brings you back inside Shotaro’s room.

The silence between the two of you is deafening until you open your mouth.

“I fucking knew it.”

Marks hugs you tightly. “Please… never do that again. You scared me.”

“Do you still like me?”

“D-Do I still like you? Yes, I still like you very much.”

“I scared you that bad, huh?”

“What if I wasn’t Spider-Man? Then what? You fall and die?”

“I wouldn’t have done it unless I was sure. Would a kiss make you feel better?”

“A kiss away from the window and maybe on solid ground would.”

masterlist | bonus chapter

BONUS CHAPTER NSFW MDNI 18+, instead of a sweet confession to Mark you decide to tease his masked persona, the ending in an alternate universe like the alternate universe where this story was real life – coming soon

#mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #nct x reader #spiderman!mark #spidermark #mark lee oneshot #nct oneshot #spidermark has consumed my entire being since the ncit house video #i need to buy one of those acrylic pc holders that's spidey themed #please enjoy my brain rot & please reblog!!#but don't steal this to publish it as your own here or another website because that's plagiarism & i would be so upset

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shyvioletcat · 1 year

Text

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 12

~ Meet Ugly / Meet Cute ~

Thank you so much for your patience with this one. I know it was eagerly awaited so I won’t keep you any longer.

The Sweetest Promise Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin’s stomach grumbled, a reminder she should have eaten dinner at least an hour ago. But she was on a roll and she didn’t want to lose this flow, her empty stomach be damned. She had found a journal article on ‘hidden composers throughout history’ and she was busy dissecting it for her thesis. Four years ago at the age of twenty she had moved to Doranelle so she could study music at the city’s top university with a world renown music program. Aelin had loved just about every minute of it.

She was in her final year and was working hard on her thesis that would round out her entire course of study. The title of her thesis was The Female Impact on Classical Music. It was all that Aelin could think about, either awake or asleep. Researching, drafting and just trying to figure out how to use words took up most of her time these days. Then at night she woke up from dreams in a panic as she edited in her sleep. For the first three years of her course she had managed to work at a diner just outside campus in between and after classes, but it quickly became apparent that it wouldn’t last. Aelin didn’t know if she was in burnout or if the shift in brain function was just too much for her, either way once the new semester started it had only been weeks before she was handing in her notice. After that she had lived off her meagre savings until she figured out what she would do next.

Her savings were almost depleted and although she could go to her parents for help, she was determined to do this whole move to another continent for college and be self-sufficient thing by herself. Running back to mum and dad was too much for her pride to bear. They would give her whatever she needed and do it gladly. Aelin just didn’t want to feel like she had failed.

That was where Kaltain came in, a woman about Aelin’s age who lived across the hall. They had been passing pleasantries for months and weren’t quite friends but definitely more than acquaintances. One evening Aelin had been coming and Kaltain had been going, both stopping as they saw to the locks on their doors for different reasons.

“Date night?” Aelin had asked, noting the dress and the makeup and the heels. Aelin was a little jealous, she hadn’t been out in ages. She always loved an excuse to dress up.

Kaltain nodded. “Noodles? Again?”

Aelin sighed, looking down to where the five pack bundle of instant noodles could be seen poking out of her shopping bag. “I’m a girl on a budget, what can I say?”

Then Kaltain stopped, giving Aelin a curious look. “Did you know I’m being paid to go on this date?”

“Okay?” Aelin had no idea what she meant or why she was handing over this information.

“The amount of money I get from a single date is enough to feed me for a week and I don’t mean on shitty noodles.”

Kaltain went on to explain her situation. She’d set herself up with a reputable sugar baby website and app. People paid her for her time a few nights a week and all she had to do was turn up, smile and make conversation. If anything beyond that was requested she had the power to decline or approve, and there were various kinds of contracts supplied by the admin. It all sounded intriguing, but Aelin still held her reservations.

“And you don’t have to sleep with them?”

Kaltain shrugged a delicate shoulder. “That is entirely up to you. When I first started I just did a string of first dates until I got used to the whole process. And then when I got the hang of things or I liked a particular client, I changed things up.”

“Hmm,” Aelin hummed, considering everything she had just learned. As she crossed her arms the plastic rustled like a little reminder of what her alternative might be.

“If you want any help with your profile,” Kaltain sang over her shoulder leaving Aelin to decide on her own.

So, Aelin eventually deferred to Kaltain’s advice and taken the plunge. She spent days working on her profile and then it was a few more on top of that to publish it. What had held her back were all the assumptions that went with gaining the title of a ‘sugar baby’. If it got out, what would people think of her? What were the men coming into that situation expecting? Kaltain had assured her more than once that she didn’t actually have to sleep with the men and that she was in total control of what happened. Aelin could just take on the suggestion of going on a continuous string of first dates. That was what kept her resolve up and Aelin had hit post, connotations be damned.

That had been more than a week ago and she was still caught in a gut twisting anxiety of the unknown. Honestly, she found it a little insulting that it had taken her this long to get a hit. Humility had never been her strong suit, she knew she was beautiful and that alone should be a massive draw card. Maybe she’d have to ask for a very small loan from her parents with how things were going, one week for rent and groceries, that was all she would need.

Her stomach grumbled again, and Aelin was more than a little sad that this might just be her second helping of noodles for the day. Lunch and dinner, lucky her. She straightened, stretching her arms above her head to decompress her back. Her tiny kitchen was waiting for her when the phone beside her knee lit up. Aelin assumed that it was just some social media notification—but it wasn’t.

You’ve got a request, Sugar

“Oh, holy gods,” Aelin whispered, lifting her phone to her face. This was it, this meant someone wanted her company. For money.

Aelin unlocked her phone and opened the app just to see who this person might be. The first piece of information she was given was a name, Rowan Whitethorn. Not a bad start. She tapped through to his profile, he was a lawyer, lived in the city, his age was left blank—a little odd but apparently that was a subject some of the clients could get a bit touchy about. The final piece to the puzzle was his photo. Aelin touched the icon to make it bigger and—

“Oh.”

It was terrible quality. Like whoever this Rowan Whitethorn was had cropped his photo from a much smaller one. All she could distinguish was silver hair and his general facial features if she squinted. She grimaced and not at all pleased with her prospects. This looked likely to be some old guy wanting a pretty face to keep him company. It was only the hollow feeling in her stomach that prompted her to open the chat.

>> Hi, Rowan. How are you?

<< Great. How are you, Celaena?

>> Not too bad

<< Good to hear

Aelin was filing through small talk topics when the ellipses appeared, showing that this Rowan was typing away. She watched the tiny animation stop and start at least three times before a message finally appeared.

>> I’m just going to be direct. I need a date for a charity gala tomorrow night. I expect you saw that I’m a lawyer, I’m trying to land a client and a date is essential for that. It won’t be much more than following me around and smiling, and I’m willing to increase your proposed fee due to the last minute nature.

More dots and Aelin waited.

>> I understand if you decline. This was a last ditch effort for me.

<< Procrastinate, did you?

>> Seems that way.

For a moment Aelin sat on her bed and contemplated her options. This didn’t seem too bad. If she said yes she would be arm candy for some desperate old guy who couldn’t get a date on his own. It could be worse, so much worse. As far as a first round as a sugar baby went, this might just be a very easy introduction.

<< A charity gala? You said you’d let me charge for last minute inconvenience, what about wardrobe? I’m sorry but I’ve left all my ballgowns on another continent.

The reply was almost instantaneous.

>> Whatever you need. Say yes and I’ll transfer the funds right away.

Because now it was up to Aelin, she was the one with the power. She could ghost him or even go as far as blocking him, and never have to hear from Rowan Whitethorn again. Or, she could help an old codger out and get paid for it. It might be painfully boring, but at least she could get decent groceries and a pretty dress.

<< I suppose it’s a date, Mr Whitethorn

Aelin went back to her profile and confirmed the request. Her starting rate only sat at $350 because she had no reviews or anything yet, so she was hoping for maybe another hundred dollars or so for the “last minute fee” and for the dress. She waited, impatiently, for whatever notification was supposed to come next. Maybe he’d chicken out, or find someone better. Aelin doubted it, she was an absolute steal, she was beautiful and cheap.

The heralding ping echoed around the room and Aelin saw a tiny red bubble up in the menu corner. She followed the notification and it took her to the money page.

Please check your bank account for receiving of money transfer.

Heart pounding, Aelin did just that. She opened her banking app and there it was. $500

“Desperation did have a price,” Aelin said to herself with a smile.

Feeling accomplished and positively loaded, she decided that she could treat herself and order in tonight. And considering she had classes tomorrow she didn’t really have time to buy a dress for herself. There was another option, right across the hall. It might be wrong of her to pocket the dress money, but she assumed in the line of sugar baby work there were some blurred lines with minor ethics in this kind of trade. What the mysterious Mr Rowan Whitethorn didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Nearly 24 hours later was waiting outside her building in a dress she had borrowed from Kaltain, made up to the nines. She’d chosen a deep green velvet number. It hugged her curves, but not in an indecent way, and the draping cowl neckline showed just enough cleavage to spark the imagination. Aelin had swept her hair to the side in an old Hollywood style with red lips to match. She looked stunning and she’d made sure to take a few photos to add to her profile.

It wasn’t long before her Uber turned up, courtesy of her benefactor and it was just a short ride from her university recommended apartment building to the hotel the gala was being held at. Aelin got out of the car, the bright lights of the hotel brightening the street in the dark. Rowan had said he would meet her inside so she didn’t bother searching for her grey headed date out here. There were more people milling around inside and she caught glimpses of the room decked out for the gala. From what she could see, it looked amazing, and she was very interested to see what kind of desserts she’d be able to find.

Aelin sighed and waited, she couldn’t get in without an invitation. All the other guests showed either a fancy paper one or something on their phones. The large foyer started to empty and there was a fleeting sinking feeling in her gut that she might be getting stood up. At least Aelin was already paid for her troubles.

She watched the front doors, ignoring anyone who didn’t fit Rowan’s very blurry description. Plenty of handsome men and pretty women walked through the foyer and into the gala, as time dragged on Aelin got impatient enough that she checked her phone for any updates five times. She was about to send a message politely demanding to know where he was when movement at the doors caught her eye.

The man had his head down as he fixed his jacket cuff, his silver hair keeping her attention. When he looked up he damn near took her breath away. He was devastatingly handsome, his face on the rugged side of classically handsome with those sharp cheekbones. Like her, he was dressed for a party so it was easy to assume he was a fellow guest. The way his broad shoulders filled out his jacket was downright criminal, because holy gods this was a fine specimen of a man. The stranger paused to look around the room and then pine green eyes landed on her.

Aelin straightened as his gaze dipped over her and she was now damning the situation she found herself in. How was she supposed to flirt with this man when she was meant to be escorting a lonely lawyer around?

Unknowing about her internal crisis this god amongst men started walking over towards her, and Aelin tried not to cry over the fact that she would have to turn him down. Because despite his silver hair, he wasn’t old. In fact if Aelin had to hazard a guess he’d be 30—if that. His silver hair…

What if… no.

Aelin warred with herself, could this be him? Could this incredibly hot and not old man be her desperate lawyer? Was this the right guy?

He got closer and closer, not deterred by anything and he stopped right in front of her. “Celaena?”

Blinking twice, Aelin had to force her mind to jump start. “Rowan Whitethorn?”

When he nodded, the relief that went through her almost had her swaying in her heels. He wasn’t old. “I thought you might have stood me up.”

A boyish kind of embarrassment lit up his face. “I got distracted by work. That’s not unusual.”

“I see,” Aelin said. A desperate workaholic it was then.

Then just like that, he tugged at the hem of his jacket becoming a polished business man. Rowan extended his arm, the music and the lights of the gala beckoning. “Shall we?”

Aelin slipped her phone back into her sleek, black clutch and took up Rowan’s offer. “Lead the way.”

If this man and this party were to be her introduction into the world of being a sugar baby, Aelin wasn’t at all disappointed.

~~~~~

The evening was a complete success and full of surprises. Rowan didn’t know what to expect when it came to his date, but she was utterly charming and stunningly beautiful, and she managed to play the part perfectly. She smiled and chatted away, making up for Rowan’s lack of social finesse. What she was very good at was managing to steer conversations away from getting too personal. They knew next to nothing about each other, things could have gotten awkward very rapidly if not for her quick and distracting wit.

It was hard not to be drawn to her, to be enchanted by her. The dress she wore… it had nearly stunned him into silence. It was sexy, but also reserved enough that it wasn’t the wrong side of indecent. If that exact shade of green wasn’t already his favourite colour, after tonight it sure as hell would be. Celaena had a classic beauty, and she moved and spoke with admirable confidence. The unique hue of her eyes was startling and it was hard to look away.

On top of all that Celeana also had a wicked sense of humour and he was at risk losing his hard bastard reputation just from the sheer amount of times he’d found himself laughing at something she had said. She was a life saver. Having her there not only allowed him entry to the event, but also let him do all the elbow rubbing he possibly could with the directing manager of Forest Fae Toys and Games with the added bonus of some harmless flirting. She knew how to play the game and it was a relief that Rowan didn’t have to do all the work. He was in with a shot now thanks to his contracted help. This woman was well worth the money.

That thought was jarring and highlighted the ridiculous fact that Rowan had to resort to such lengths. But at the same time it had been so easy and Celaena had been more than lovely company. If he was being honest with himself, he’d like to see her again, and not necessarily in a paid for capacity. It was unfortunate that they had to meet under these circumstances, it just made things awkward for him going forward.

The uncomfortable truth of it was that Rowan was lonely. He’d forgotten how nice it was to spend time with a pretty woman outside the capacity of work. And it was almost like they had skipped a step here. Because of the pretence and expectations they had glossed over all the tension that came with being strangers. There were just less expectations and that made Rowan feel like he could relax. Socialising had never been something he’d been good at,, and it seemed Aelin had more than enough to make up for the skills he was lacking. He would very much like to see her again, but from what he understood, that decision was entirely up to her.

“I have one question before I go,” Aelin said when they were out on the street and waiting for the car he had ordered for her. Once they had left the gala they’d moved a healthy distance apart and even though it was silly for Rowan to miss her closeness, he did.

“What is it?” Rowan asked, curious as to what mischief that she was up to.

She raised a hand gesturing at his hair. “Is this a fashion choice?”

That was not what he was expecting, Celaena had surprised him again and it made him let out a soft chuckle. “Genetic. Runs in the family.”

She laughed, and shook her head. “Your profile picture was so bad that I thought you were some old guy who couldn’t get a date.”

“Well,” Rowan said, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck, “that’s only half true.”

She laughed again and the sound of it went straight to his gut. Her bright eyes stayed on the top of his head while she said. “Well, Rowan Whitethorn. My bank account thanks you.”

“You’ve saved me in more ways than one,” Rowan admitted.

The car pulled up and Celaena and the driver swapped confirmations before she turned back to him. “Goodnight then, Mr Whitethorn.”

He didn’t know why she called him that, but he didn’t exactly hate it. “You have a good night as well.”

Celaena flashed him one last smile before she ducked into the car. Seated inside, she leant forward and gave him a final wave and then she was gone. Rowan went back into the hotel foyer to use the elevator to get to the underground parking lot. His silver sedan was waiting for him, the colour now making him smirk. Climbing into the driver’s seat he was more than ready to call it a night.

Not bothering to plug his phone in, Rowan turned on the radio and then immediately tuned it out to fuzzy background noise. He was too busy thinking about Celaena to listen to the music or the words. It was unfair that they had to meet like this, it really didn’t give them a chance for anything more. And Rowan had specified he was only after a one time thing. He’d damned himself from the start.

Rowan was home before he knew, the streets of the city not all that busy this late at night. Tapping the dongle on his keys he pushed the button for his penthouse apartment. He had never bought it for pretentious reasons, he had loved the view if provided over the rest of the city—all the way out to the ruins that skirted the northern edges of it. His tie was the first thing to go, and then his jacket, next he was fishing his phone out of his trouser pocket and froze.

There was a notification on his screen, and if he had connected his phone like he usually did he might have pulled over wherever he was to tend to it. It had some from Sweet as Sugar and it kept up with the habit of being direct and succinct.

Celaena would like to spend more time with you. Yes or no?

Rowan unlocked his phone and he didn’t know if he’d ever replied to message that fast in his life. He even managed to accidentally scroll up in his efforts to send it a reply because his thumb had slipped in his eagerness. Because he very much had his one resounding answer.

Yes.

~~~~~

Posting from my phone so it might get another edit. @rowaelinscourt

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chrisbitchtree · 9 months

Text

All For You

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race!

The day Billy’s life changed forever was a Sunday in May. He’d never forget that for the rest of his life. He’d never forget how brightly the sun shone as he packed up his car and drove east, as his father kicked him out, refusing to pay for any more of Billy’s college tuition after finding him in bed with his friend Matt a week after they arrived home for summer vacation.

His was given the option to stay and continue to have his dad pay for his college education, but the conditions were that he move home and live there while finishing out his last two years of school, and that he give up his friends and his “lifestyle” as Neil called it.

Billy refused. He couldn’t live under Neil’s roof again. And suddenly the whole state of California, not just San Francisco, seemed too small, so he got in his car and drove. He hadn’t been aiming for the Midwest, had originally planned on Boston, but that’s where he’d landed, after his car had broken down on the side of the highway just outside of Chicago. Finding he liked the pace of the city more than he thought he would, he decided to stick around for a bit.

He applied anywhere he could, and the first place to call him back for an interview and offer him a job was a catering company. He’d worked as a waiter on and off through his first couple years of college, for extra spending money, so he was confident that he could do the job well.

He made friends easily, people who accepted him for who he was, falling in with a group of fellow servers, Heather and her girlfriend Robin, and their friend Steve, gorgeous, funny, goofy Steve, who could make Billy weak in the knees with one smile, and thoughts of whom filled Billy’s every waking hour, and most of his dreams too. They would work long hours, day after day, serving at all sorts of upscale events, and when they were done their shifts, they’d hit the clubs or bars, or go see a movie, then head to the diner for late night shakes and fries.

When Billy decided to stay long term, applying for and getting a transfer slot at a local university, he had to find a place to live. Heather had been nice enough to offer up her couch for the summer, but that couldn’t be a long term solution, so Billy put out feelers for a potential roommate. It turned out that Steve was looking for one as well, so it worked out perfectly.

It seemed like a match made in heaven. They were the same age, both out on their own with no ties to family, working hard to make a name for themselves in the world. Steve was an especially hard worker, going to school for culinary management by day, and working as a server by night and on weekends. He’d also pick up shifts in the prep kitchen when he could, telling Billy that it was important for him to know how all aspects of a food business worked if he wanted to own his own restaurant or catering business some day.

Billy really admired Steve’s drive, and it only added to his attraction to the other boy. He tried to fight his feelings for Steve, but it was hard when he was so sweet and kind, funny and thoughtful, and looked like he did to boot. He had long legs that seemed to go on forever in his black server’s pants, a lean, toned swimmer’s body, and soft looking, wild brown hair that curled up in some spots and flopped over in others.

Billy wanted nothing more than to kiss Steve’s plush pink lips while running his hands through it. It felt like he and Steve were maybe building to something, but it was always hard to tell. One minute, Steve would be flirty, touching Billy’s arm as they talked, and the next, he’d be moving to the other side of the couch, keeping a safe distance between them.

In the face of this, Billy tried to tamp down his feelings, doing his best to just enjoy his friendship with Steve. They would help each other study, make sure the other ate, they worked and partied together, and it was really starting to feel to Billy like he had a family again, between Steve, Heather, and Robin.

Then, Billy had to go ahead and combine his bad habits of jumping to conclusions and opening his big mouth without thinking about what he was going to say first. He and Steve had both been scheduled to work a massive Christmas party for some regular clients of theirs, the Harringtons. They hired the catering company almost every single Saturday evening, for small dinner parties, and they were Billy’s least favourite events to work, because the Harringtons were so awful.

They were rude to the staff, telling them that they were slow and lazy, and constantly made up stupid white lies, like saying that they’d asked for white win when they were poured a glass of red, even though the servers knew that they’d asked for red, or saying that their steaks were overcooked, even when they were a perfect medium rare. The only thing that kept the catering company coming back was how well the jobs paid, and the generous tips that the Harringtons would give them at the end of each event.

Nobody ever wanted to work a Saturday night, but Billy would be fine with working every single Saturday if it meant he never had to serve those awful people again, so he was deeply frustrated to see his name on the list of servers for their Christmas event. He knew there would be a huge payout for it though, so he decided to just grin and bear it, and hope the night would go by quickly.

Thankfully, it did go by relatively fast, and at the end of the shift, he went looking for Steve, hoping that they could ride back to the warehouse space that the catering company ran out of in the same big white food service van. As he rounded the corner towards the Harrington’s front hall, he heard Steve speaking in hushed tones with a woman. That was weird. The female voice didn’t sound like anyone from work.

Curious, Billy froze in place and listened. “Son,” the woman said. “You know you’re welcome home at anytime. In fact, we hope that you’ll join us for Christmas dinner. You just need to stop that. And in case you need help making your decision, here you go.”

Mom,” Steve replied, his tone stern. “I don’t want this. And I told you and dad that I’m not changing my mind. Take this back. I don’t want it. We’ll see about Christmas.”

“I’ll throw it in the trash if you don’t keep it,” the woman said, before walking away, her heels clacking on the tile floor. She rounded the corner, followed by Steve, who was stuffing an envelope into the pocket of his black pants.

Holy shit. Steve was the Harrington’s son. He wasn’t like Billy at all. He flattened himself against the wall, trying to remain unseen. Thankfully, he did, both Steve and Mrs. Harrington too wrapped up in the argument they’d just been having to pay attention to anything else.

Billy was fuming. All this time, Steve had been acting like he was just a regular guy, trying to scrape by, with no one to care for him, just like Billy, but in reality, he was richer than Billy could ever dream of being, and he had a family, right there in town, that seemed to care about him and want him around, even if they were assholes to almost everyone else. And here, Billy had thought he and Steve would spend Christmas together. Sure, he’d never actually asked, but it seemed to make sense. Where else would either of them go? Billy had already been trying to see if he could fit a small turkey in their apartment sized oven, and Steve was planning on spending the day with his rich family in their mansion!

He tried to act normal on the ride back to work, and on the car ride back home, but by the time they got back to their apartment, he couldn’t hold back anymore. “So, I hear you have big plans for Christmas day, huh? Gonna go over to mommy and daddy’s and let them spoil you? I can’t believe you never told me that the Harringtons were your parents, Steve. You just sat back and let us complain about what assholes they are, and it turns out you’re their fucking spawn! Did you think that was funny, asshole? I hope you enjoy your fancy meal while I sit here all alone eating a frozen dinner and getting drunk off cheap wine.”

Steve, who’d been in the middle of taking off his coat when Billy started his little rant, stood frozen, his eyes wide, his face ashen, his jacket half on and half off. Billy could see the bulging envelope in his pocket. It probably had a giant wad of cash in it.

“Billy, I…” he started, but Billy cut him off, too mad to listen.

“I just don’t understand how you could do this. All the months we’ve known each other, and we’ve lived together for almost four months, struggling to make rent and pay the bills, and you’ve got an endless supply of cash right there. I heard your mom give you the envelope of money. I saw it in your pocket.” He pulled off his coat, throwing it towards the hall closet, and stomped to his room, slamming the door shut.

He hoped that Steve would leave him alone so he could cool off, but no such luck. Not a minute passed before Steve was yanking Billy’s door open. Hands on his hips, he looked like he was about to lay into Billy, so Billy grabbed his headphones, turning on his music and cranking it up loud. He closed his eyes and laid back on his bed, doing his best to ignore Steve.

It worked for a little while, but then Steve was snatching the headphones off his head. “Hey, asshole!” he shouted. “Did you ever think for one fucking second about asking me why exactly I’m struggling to pay for stuff if my parents are loaded?”

Huh, yeah, Billy hadn’t really thought to ask. “Because you’re a massive idiot who doesn’t know how to be happy with what he has?”

“No, dumbass, because, exactly like you, I was kicked out of my house for being queer. But unlike you, I don’t have the benefit of being halfway across the country from my parents. They hire the catering company almost every week, just to keep an eye on me, and remind me of the lifestyle I left behind, and I don’t want to say anything about it to anyone because they bring in good money for the business, and despite my repeated requests for my parents to leave me alone outside of work, they’re constantly trying to bribe me to come back, with the conditions that I take something they choose in school and marry a woman.

But I don’t want that. I want to own a restaurant. I want to make a name for myself. I want to date guys. I actually wanted to date you, you fucking prick. Until tonight, that is. I really liked you, but it turns out you’re just as awful and judgemental as everyone else in my life. I was going to ask you if you wanted to spend Christmas together, and I took the money from my mom so I could afford to buy you a Christmas present, but I really hope that you enjoy that frozen dinner and boxed wine. I’ll talk to Heather and Robin about going there.”

Billy sat speechless as he watched Steve walk out of his room, slamming the door behind him. He was such an idiot. He had to make this better somehow, but he had no clue what the fuck to do. It wouldn’t be enough to just say sorry. His big mouth had pushed them way beyond that. No, he needed to make a grand gesture, something that would really show Steve how much he meant to Billy.

It came to him the next morning as he was hiding out in his bedroom, listening to the sounds of Steve getting ready to go to work, a shift he and Billy thankfully didn’t share. Steve had mentioned that he was going to spend Christmas with Heather and Robin, since Billy had gotten himself ex-communicated.

Robin and Heather, from a small town in Texas, couldn’t afford to go home for the holidays, so they were staying in Chicago. If that was the situation the two of them were in, there were probably others, at work and school, that couldn’t afford to make the trip home, or didn’t have family to spend the time with. Maybe Billy could offer to host a potluck dinner at the apartment, to show Steve that he wasn’t alone, and that he had a lot of people, most especially Billy, who cared about him.

As soon as he heard the front door shut and the key turn in the lock, Billy sprang out of bed and raced to the living room, scooping up the phone, cord stretching across the floor, and dialed Robin and Heather’s number.

He’d been so caught up in how to make this better that he’d never considered that Steve would have already told them what happened. He sat through a full half hour of both women trading the phone back and forth as they took turns berating him for his behaviour the previous evening. He knew he deserved it, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing to hear all the stupid shit he’d done repeated back to him.

When they were done, and he had apologized profusely, promising to never hurt Steve again, he told them his plan. After another round of promises to never intentionally hurt Steve again, they agreed to get him back to his and Billy’s apartment on the evening of the 25th.

When Steve got home that day, he reluctantly listened to Billy’s apology, and just as reluctantly accepted it, telling Billy that he knew he hadn’t meant it, and was just being a hot headed asshole, which Billy deserved, but since they were out of school for the semester now, any time they weren’t working over the next two weeks consisted of Steve mostly avoiding Billy by going right to his room when he got home, or leaving the apartment altogether for long stretches of time.

A small part of Billy hoped that anger wasn’t the only reason that Steve was avoiding Billy, that maybe he still had feelings for Billy too, and just felt awkward about addressing those feelings now. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high though.

Billy tried to spend that time working on himself, seeking out a therapist who could help him work through his feelings of jealousy and resentment towards anyone who he perceived as having an easier time than him in life, and help him work through his abandonment issues, both things he’d spent way too long shoving down inside himself until they bubbled up to the surface, out of his control.

He also contacted everyone at work and his school friends that said they didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, making them all promise to keep it a secret from Steve. His invitations had an overwhelmingly positive response, which both saddened and heartened him. He’d never thought of how many other people felt alone as he did.

Steve spent the night of the 24th at Robin and Heather’s apartment, so Billy worked to prep the apartment as best as he could. They didn’t have much furniture in their apartment, and there wouldn’t be much room for extra tables and chairs anyway, so he decided they would all eat on the floor. He bought bright red and green tablecloths at the dollar store and draped them all across the living room floor after pushing the couch and armchair against the wall, and a few of tomorrow’s guests have loaned him Christmas lights and decorations, and one even brought over a tiny tree.

He was actually pretty happy with it by the time he was done. Now he just had to wait. He made cookies to fill the time, ten different kinds, from his mother’s handwritten recipes, one of the only things he brought with him when he moved to remind him of her. By the time he stopped for the night, the counters were full of baked goods.

The next day, as the guests started to arrive, Billy grew more and more worried that Steve wouldn’t show up. He didn’t know what kind of plan Robin and Heather had concocted to get Steve to go back to his apartment, he’d left that to them and trusted that they’d follow through with it, but he was starting to second guess whether they’d be successful.

They said they’d have Steve at the apartment by 6pm, but that ticked by, and then 6:15, and 6:30, and Billy was starting to give up hope, resigning himself to failure. He had an apartment full of friends, but no Steve, the one who mattered the most. Then, just as the clock struck 6:45, the door flew open, and Billy could hear Steve’s voice, even from back in the kitchen, where he was grabbing more napkins.

“I still don’t get why…” the words died on Steve’s lips just as Billy rounded the corner to their living room. There stood Steve, with Robin and Heather behind him. Steve looked as beautiful as ever, hair flopping in his eyes under his hat, and a startled look on his face as he took in the space, packed full of their friends and coworkers. He locked eyes with Billy, who suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

“Billy, can I talk to you? In my bedroom?” Steve asked.

Billy followed silently behind him.

“You have a lot of nerve, having all of our mutual friends over for a Christmas party at our apartment while I’m over at Robin and Heather’s, sulking. You’re really trying to hurt me as much as possible, aren’t you? We just came to get the bottle opener. Robin broke theirs. If you don’t need it for your party guests, I’ll just take it and get out of your hair, so the festivities can continue.”

Oh god, this really wasn’t going according to plan. “Steve, I didn’t plan a party for while you were gone. This party is for you. Well, for you and for everyone who didn’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas. But mostly for you. I wanted to show you how many people you have in your life, that you don’t need your parents. We’re your family now. I’m really, really sorry about what I said to you that night, but you mean more to me than anything, and I just wanted to make you happy. I don’t think you’re a spoiled brat. I think you’re the most amazing, hardworking, kind, special person I’ve ever met, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove that to you.”

A small smile started in the corner of Steve’s mouth, the first thing even close to Steve’s usual grin that Billy had seen in weeks. “Ok, I’ll think about forgiving you. On one condition.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything for you, Steve.”

Steve opened his bedside table and pulled out a sprig of something green. “I was going to use this stupid mistletoe to finally try to make a move on you tonight, but I’m gonna leave the move making to you now.” He handed the sprig to Billy, who held it over their heads.

He leaned in close to Steve. “Can I kiss you, you beautiful goof?”

Steve didn’t respond, and instead just pressed his lips to Billy’s own. They stayed like that for a long while, until someone knocked on the door, letting Billy know that his kitchen timer was going off for the hors d’oeuvres.

“Come help me in the kitchen?” Billy asked, holding out his hand. Steve took it, following him out of the room.

The spent the rest of the party glued to each other’s sides, and Billy could tell from the soft looks Steve gave him, and the giant grin plastered to his face that this had been the right move. Billy was beyond happy that the plan had worked. Laying in bed that night, holding Steve in his arms, Billy thanked whatever higher power had decided he was worthy of a second chance at happiness.

*** From that year onwards, every single Christmas, no matter where their lives took them, through the opening of their first, then second restaurant, marriage, and the adoption of both of their children, one thing never changed. Every single December, they put the word out to anyone and everyone they knew that they were welcome in their home for a celebration of friendship and found family come Christmas day.

Please look forward to the amazing work from the next contributor, @oopsiedaisiesbaby!

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove relay race #harringrove fic #chrisbitchtree writes

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