#hey guys did you know there's like a shop that lets you order a custom plushie of any minecraft skin

[jackmanifold-daily]

put him in a nest

[loveinhawkins]

There’s perks to working a summer job where there’s seemingly no manager. Steve got an at most five minute interview with an overly smiley dude who said, “An independent workforce is very important to us,” and didn’t even check his references before telling Steve that he was hired.

So it’s down to him and Robin alone to open and close Scoops Ahoy. And the lack of any boss—not even a supervisor—is mostly great, means that no-one’s hovering over their shoulders droning on about ‘company policy’, means they can take their breaks as and when, and no-one’s tapping their foot with an eye on the clock.

But then there’s the times where it’s absolutely swamped with customers, and the statistical likelihood of having to serve an asshole skyrockets; and most assholes don’t tend to think of teenagers slinging ice-cream as being worthy of even the tiniest shred of respect.

“Are you wilfully this stupid, missy?” a douchebag snaps at Robin during the lunchtime rush, after she added chocolate sauce on his sundae instead of raspberry.

She remakes the order with a look that, if there was any justice in the world, would make him drop down dead on the spot. But instead, he just scoffs when she passes him the new sundae.

“Have a spectacular day,” Robin says acerbically, and if it was any other time, Steve would be ducking down behind the counter, pretending to check on stock levels so he can hide his laughter.

Except Robin’s also doing that thing where she blinks a lot, and Steve knows she’s fighting tears of frustration because he privately does something remarkably similar.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest coupled with what’s becoming a steadily frequent flare of protectiveness. That one usually comes with the kids and The Upside Down—except Robin is a girl who’s round about his age, so he half-heartedly assumes it must be because he has a crush on her.

But he’s not even thinking about said crush at all when he gently bumps her towards the break room with his hip and says, “Take yours first, I’ve got this.”

For half a second, Robin’s eyes seem to shine in gratitude before she puts a hand over her heart and declares, dripping in sarcasm, “You’re a god among men, Harrington, I never believed what anyone said about you.”

“You’re wel—hey, what did they say about me?”

The door to the break room shuts, but not before he hears Robin let out a genuine snort of laughter. He smiles and pivots back to the register.

The line’s calmed down; Steve recognises a substitute teacher waiting to be served: Mrs Greeves, who’s been at Hawkins High since the sixties, at least. There’s no other adult in the shop, so it’s presumably her little granddaughter who’s running about the place, without so much as a glancing eye on her.

But Steve doesn’t have to worry about a potential lost child scenario, because a guy suddenly slips out of the booth he’d been sitting in, bending down to the kid’s eye level and subtly ensuring that she doesn’t hightail it out of there.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to recognise him; he’s still getting used to the whole phenomenon of seeing people without the high school setting behind them. Like, Robin used to be just a name from a class he can’t even recall, and now he knows her for her dry wit and love of cryptic crosswords.

And this Eddie Munson is sort of a different beast from the guy Steve saw stomping around the cafeteria tables.

He’s dressed pretty much the same, (Hellfire shirt sans the leather jacket must be the ‘summer look’, Steve reckons), but he’s quieter as he chats with the little girl, letting her try on one of his skull rings to distract from her obvious boredom. His grin is softer, too.

Mrs Greeves clears her throat, and Steve promptly puts on his vacant ‘delightful customer service’ smile.

“Afternoon, Mrs Greeves, what can I do you for?”

She orders a simple strawberry cone for the kid, Abigail, and two scoops of lemon and vanilla in a cup for herself—appropriate, Steve thinks, because her face looks like she’s sucking on a lemon half the time.

As he prepares the ice-cream, he’s quickly remembering why she’s on the list of substitute teachers that students dread, even if he’s only had the ‘pleasure’ of being in a class supervised by her once. He has vague memories of how she’d talk with other teachers in a scandalised stage whisper about students from ‘broken homes’—he’s pretty sure she’s still an austere teacher at the Sunday School, too.

“Abigail,” she says sharply, when Steve finishes the cone, and she finally seems to realise her granddaughter isn’t by her side, “what have I told you about—”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Eddie says hurriedly. Abigail hands him the ring back, very carefully dropping it into his palm, and he gives her a gentle smile. “I don’t mind—”

“—not talking to strangers?” Mrs Greeves finishes, as if Eddie hadn’t spoken.

“But,” Eddie says with tiny frown, “you know me, ma’am, I’m—”

“Let me be plain then, Mr Munson.” She finally turns to favour Eddie with a scathing look. “I meant that I don’t want my granddaughter around a corrupting influence.”

There’s an awful silence while Abigail collects the cone.

“Oh,” Eddie says, still crouched down by the booth. He sounds very small.

And Steve’s view of Mrs Greeves quickly turns from a general dislike to an icy hatred.

“And here’s yours,” he says, sliding the cup over.

She looks down. Her mouth goes all pinched in displeasure.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“It’s your ice-cream,” Steve says, playing up a confused blink. “Is—is this not what you ordered? I’m terribly sorry for the—”

“Don’t be obtuse, Mr Harrington. These scoops are tiny; they barely fill the cup!”

Yup, Steve thinks with a savage satisfaction. They’re the size of a melon ball, and even that’s being generous.

“Mrs Greeves, I’m afraid it’s store policy. Nothing to do with—”

“What kind of policy could possibly justify—”

“Rudeness,” Steve says smoothly.

Eddie’s head jerks up at that, his mouth slightly agape.

“Mr Harrington,” Mrs Greeves says, her face turning puce, “I would like to see your manager.”

“The manager,” Steve says flatly. “Okay, sure. I’ll go get him.”

What he does next, compared to everything else that’s happened in his life thus far, isn’t all that stupid.

Well. Maybe a little.

It’s worth it though, to see the way Eddie Munson’s eyes widen at the sight.

Making sure to have zero expression throughout, Steve mimes walking downstairs, throws off his hat while crouched behind the counter, then re-emerges with a quick ruffle of his hair.

“How can I help you?” he asks, like they’ve only just met.

The cup of minuscule ice-cream is soon up-ended as Mrs Greeves storms out, barking over her shoulder, “Abigail, come here!”

Eddie stands to let the kid out of the way, who seems blissfully ignorant with her cone. Steve’s sure he hears him mutter under his breath, “Jesus, she’s not a dog.”

“I’ll be reporting you, Steve Harrington, make no mistake!”

Yeah, good fucking luck. I sure as hell don’t know who really runs this place.

“Uh-huh,” Steve says. “Looking forward to it. Harrington with two ‘r’s one ‘n’, ma’am.”

“Shit, Harrington,” Eddie drawls. He’s leaning next to the booth, hip cocked, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen it himself, Steve might’ve been convinced that the Eddie from a moment ago was a different person. “That was not worth getting fired over.”

“I’m not getting fired,” Steve says—although honestly, if that had been a real threat, he thinks his actions would probably have been the same. Huh. “I meant it, dude, there’s no manager here.”

Eddie nods slightly, looks up at the Scoops Ahoy sign and grins. “So you and Buckley are the skeleton crew on this ship.”

“Uh, I guess?”

Come on, man, Steve thinks, as Eddie keeps up the wide grin like it’s a shield. This isn’t the high school cafeteria; I’m not about to hit your lunch tray or whatever.

Out loud, he calls into the back, “Hey, Robin, the chocolate’s low. I’m just gonna put in a new batch if you want some of the old stuff.”

The sliding doors open.

Robin sighs as if she’s just had a very relaxing facial, but she’s actually holding a folded newspaper with the cryptic crossword all finished.

“I am so chilled out,” she says, with a delivery that could rival Eddie Munson’s trademark dramatics.

“You’re so weird,” Steve says mildly while making up a cup with the leftover chocolate ice-cream.

“You’ve just got no taste, Harrington.” She waggles the crossword at him. “You should give ‘em a try.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “I’m no good at that code-breaking stuff.” He passes her the cup, goes to start assembling his own and pauses. “Hey, Munson, you want some?”

“Oh, uh, I’m good,” Eddie says, sounding suddenly wrong-footed. “Sorry, I’m just, uh, killing time before my movie starts. The other stores said if I wasn’t buying anything I should get out, so…”

“So you’ve come to our oceanic sanctum,” Robin deadpans.

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, just ‘cause you do crosswords doesn’t mean you have to turn into a dictionary. Ow.” He doesn’t quite duck in time to avoid the newspaper smacking him in the face. He turns to address Eddie again, who appears to be fighting back laughter. “What’re you gonna see, Munson?”

Eddie’s eyes glance away for a second. “Something very scary and befitting of my stature, Harrington.”

Robin, who’s made a habit of memorising the mall’s movie schedules, checks her watch and narrows her eyes. “Return to Oz?”

Eddie’s cheeks start to glow. “Fuck off, Buckley, I’ve never liked you.”

“You’re such a liar, I’ve heard your applause at band practice—”

“Okay, but,” Steve cuts in, jumping up onto the counter with one hand. “I thought the whole point was Oz was a dream. How can she return to—?”

“Christ, I don’t know, Harrington,” Eddie says. “I didn’t pick it for critical analysis; the poster had a dude with a pumpkin head on it, and I thought it looked cool.”

“Oh, I saw that,” Robin says. “Made me think of when all those pumpkins went bad. Like, imagine if they had faces.”

Unthinkingly, Steve says around his ice-cream spoon, “No way, I’m not dealing with that, too.”

“Excusez-moi?” Robin says.

“Hmm?” Steve says innocently.

“Hey, you missed quite a show earlier on, Buckley,” Eddie says. “Reckon Harrington deserves a tally in the ‘you rule’ column.”

Steve glares at Robin. “I told you to keep that outta view of the customers.”

“Ah, but I’m not buying anything,” Eddie points out, “ergo, not a customer.”

“Ergo,” Steve mimics.

“That board is strictly for romantic successes,” Robin says.

Eddie snorts. “Aw, that’s hardly fair. I think it should have more… rounded criteria.”

Robin’s eyes narrow again. “Eddie Munson, you’ve never complimented a jock in your life, don’t start now.”

“Hey,” Steve says, overselling a ‘wounded’ expression. “I’m more than that, y’know. I contain multitudes.”

“Sure,” Eddie says, smiling. “Folks, we’ve got Hawkins’s own Whitman right here.”

Steve flips him off and, on a whim, decides to channel his inner Dustin.

“Maybe I just see the world more clearly than you two ‘cause I’m free of societal constraints.”

“You’re working in a mall,” Robin says.

“High school societal contraints. I am unshackled and ergo, free.”

“Damn,” Eddie says, patting down his pockets for an imaginary pen, “I should use that.”

“Stop inflating Harrington’s ego and go catch your totally scary movie,” Robin says.

Eddie checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Um.” And Steve thinks that it almost looks like he’s reluctant to leave. “Time flies, I guess. Better go ashore.” He catches Steve’s eye, gives a tiny little salute as he leaves. “May your summer continue to be mundane and manager-less.”

“You’re a poet, Munson,” Steve says, even though Eddie’s already out the door.

“So what was the show I missed?” Robin says. “I couldn’t hear anything back there.”

“Nothing that exciting.”

Steve tells her, and even though a smile tugs at her mouth as he re-enacts his mime, for some reason her eyes are kinda sad for most of it.

“Good job, Popeye,” she says thoughtfully—and though it directly contradicts her own words, she marks up a singular ‘you rule’ tally for the rest of her shift before wiping it off.

Eddie doesn’t re-appear after the movie—not that Steve’s keeping track of time, or anything—but at least they don’t have anymore nightmares for customers. As Steve mops, he thinks about how Dustin’s return from Camp Something Something is approaching—and the fact that he’s circled the date with a goofy smiley face is between him and his bedroom calendar.

He smiles to himself while clocking out of the now ghostly mall, recalling Eddie’s parting words.

The thought of a mundane, manager-less summer stretching before him sounds pretty damn good.

[loudstan]

Perfect Little Toy

Summary: Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.

Pairing: Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, magic potions used during sex I guess? also this is way longer than my other fics sorry

 Mark should have known better. But when Haechan asked him to go shopping with him, never in a million years did he think they would end up in a sex shop.

“Dude, I don’t wanna go in there,” he hissed, trying to break free from Haechan’s unrelenting grip on his arm.  Haechan pulled harder, whining vociferously. “S-stop! People are watching,” Mark whispered urgently, trying to hide his face from the curious bystanders.

“What’s the big deal?”Haechan rolled his eyes.

“You could have ordered stuff like this online!” Mark sighed, reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the eye-catching store. “It’s weird to come here together.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Haechan shrugged, walking to the nearest shelf and inspecting the x-rated shaped toys on display. “We are bros, aren’t we? Remember when you wanted to get a fortune telling reading but didn’t want to go alone? Who went with you?”

“Okay, first of all, you can’t possibly compare fortune telling to vibrators,” Mark argued, slapping Haechan’s hand away when it playfully brought a pink dildo uncomfortably close to Mark’s face. “Secondly, you literally found your mate in that shop, so you should be thanking me.”

“Well, maybe you’ll find your mate in here,” Haechan said.

“Very funny,” Mark deadpanned, offended at the mere suggestion of meeting his destined partner in such a lewd place. “Oh, shit I made eye contact with an employee, fuck he’s coming this way-”

“Hi, welcome to Pandora’s Box. My name is Jeonghan,” said a young man with dark hair and a bored expression as he pointed at the name tag on his shirt. “How can I help you today? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Hey,man!” Haechan greeted. “You see, my girl and I have a lot of sex-”

“Sure you do,” Jeonghan’s plain voice replied. If only he got paid extra for every time he heard that. 

“But she’s human and I’m a werewolf. I’m afraid I’m too big down there for her, you know?” Haechan continued with an arrogant smirk, pointing at his crotch just for extra clarification, Mark cringing behind him.

“Right,”said Jeonghan, clearly unimpressed. Again, if he got paid for each guy who said they were too big. “If you want to train her for your size, then we have some bigger models over here,” he offered, walking the two customers to a shelf with exotic looking silicone dicks. He shoved a massive  neon green dildo into Haechan’s hands.“This one was molded after a head alpha. It comes with a remote to simulate a knot,” he said as he pressed a button on the remote and  the phallic toy started growing in the werewolf's hands, who was in obvious shock. This was Jeonghan’s favorite part of his job: humbling men who thought they were the shit, when it goes without saying that there’s always a bigger dildo that can do a better job. “It glows in the dark,” he added, biting back a smile.

“Cool,”Haechan breathed out, trying not to show how much they had hurt his ego and ignoring Mark’s snort. “Uh–I’m not sure about the… the color, yeah,” There was no way he was buying a toy bigger than him. “Do you maybe have, uh–...something else? Maybe a potion or something that makes it less painful for her?” He added before that Jeonghan guy tried to show him another colossal toy.

 Jeonghan put the toy back on the shelf and lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess a potion would work, yeah…This way, please,” he instructed, taking a very embarrassed Haechan and a now amused Mark to a different section of the shop, hidden behind some dark curtains. “Hey, Y/N! Do you have anything to make werewolf penetration more enjoyable for humans?” he asked loudly as they entered a small room decorated with tons of colorful potion jars and  illuminated by candles. 

 At first Mark choked at the employee’s vulgar words and coughed awkwardly. Then a sweet and fresh scent invaded his nostrils, making him freeze. He let out a shaky breath and inhaled once again, letting the summer-like scent fill his lungs and his brain go fuzzy, his eyes trying to focus on the source of such heavenly stimulation. There you were, the most beautiful woman Mark had ever laid eyes on, wearing an employee uniform and your hair tied up neatly not to get in the way of your job. You had stopped mixing a bubbly lilac potion in a cauldron to listen to Jeonghan and help him solve Haechan’s problem. And god, your voice was so melodic, Mark had no idea what you were talking about but he could listen to you forever.

“So this would make her produce as much slick as an omega in heat?” Haechan was fascinated, staring at an expensive looking potion in an elegant jar. 

“Well, not automatically,” you replied. “It will depend on how aroused she is. If you can’t  turn her on, it won’t help you.”

“So you’re telling me,” Haechan insisted, overconfidently. “That she’ll have no way to hide how turned on she is?” he was already thinking of how cute his girlfriend would look when she’s all wet and embarrassed. 

“Yes,” you replied dryly at the same time Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the cocky customer. 

 Mark, on the other hand, was in his own little world and couldn’t stop staring at your lips. Unconsciously, he found himself wondering if you would need to use that potion to make him fit or if he could make it work by taking things slow. Maybe if he ate you out real good and opened you up with his fingers it wouldn’t hurt that much. Mark didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to make you feel good, take care of you.

“Holy shit,” he gasped when it finally hit him. This was it. He had found his mate. In a fucking sex shop.

Haechan gave him an inquisitive look, but he quickly dismissed his friend’s reaction as him being impressed by the potion. 

“Anything else you need?” Jeonghan asked, making Haechan turn his attention to him once again. 

“Mm…Handcuffs?” Haechan asked after a few seconds of hesitation. 

“How original,” Jeonghan muttered, before indicating for Haechan to follow him back outside. Mark didn’t budge when his friend walked past him. It was like his feet were glued to the floor as he stared at you going back to mixing the suspicious-looking potion while humming to a sweet melody. His eyes landed on your name tag and he found himself saying your name out loud before he could stop it. You quickly looked up, surprised that the customer was still there.

“Yes?” you asked politely. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Oh shit, he had to think of something before you thought he was a creep. He licked his lips nervously before he came up with a question that sounded convincing enough. “I j-just uh… are y-you the owner?”

“Jeonghan and I both co-own this place,” you replied and gave him a smile. “Why?”

“N-no, because, like, you look very y-young so I w-was a bit…surprised, so…so I asked?” The way he ended as if he was asking a question was kind of cute if you were being honest and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

 Mark let out a giggle too, dazed at the fact that he had made you laugh. Oh, how he wanted to make you laugh everyday for the rest of his life. 

“We came up with this idea when we were in freshman year, so we had plenty of time to save money and plan everything,” you explained patiently. Somehow, this stranger made you feel at ease, like you didn’t need to be careful with him, or at least not the way you were with most men. “By the time we graduated we were ready to open the store. It’s like our baby.”

Mark felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that there was a man who was close enough to you to plan such a big project together. “That’s cool, uh– s-so are you two, like, a thing? A c-couple?”

 The sound of your laughter made Mark’s heart skip a beat and he smiled dreamily, almost forgetting what he had asked in the first place.

“No way!” you continued laughing at the ridiculous idea, Mark’s relieved sigh going unnoticed. “We’ve been friends since forever. Just a little advice; never make business plans with a romantic partner, kid.”

“I-I’m 23,” Mark laughed nervously, using the back of his hand to dry up some sweat beads accumulated on his forehead. Your sweet scent was so suffocating it was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t care less. 

“Oops, my bad! Not a kid,” you said. “You look so young, though! I’m jealous,” you complimented him, not wanting to admit that he also looked gorgeous. “What’s your name?”

“M-mark,” he stuttered. Cute.

“Nice to meet you, Mark,” you extended your hand for him to shake it, smiling more brightly at the way he giggled like an infatuated high-school girl. Everything seemed to be funny to him and it was endearing. He took your hand into his delicately and allowed you to shake it in a friendly manner when your heart started pounding ridiculously fast and you felt the room move around you. Mark’s hard squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality and you saw his body visibly wobbling as he closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mark?” you called his name worriedly, but he only whispered your name weakly before he collapsed on the floor with a thud.

“M-mark?” you breathed out, still trying to calm down your own fluttering heart. You knelt down next to his unconscious body and only then you noticed he was covered in sweat. “Shit. Hey, Mark!” you insisted, giving his face a gentle slap with hopes of waking him up. No response. You tried to stand up to go get help, but for some reason you had no strength in your legs. “Jeonghan!” you screamed as loud as you could. Few seconds later, Jeonghan burst into the potions room, his face incredibly pale and eyes wide open, this being the first time he had heard you scream like that. He looked from your terrified face to the motionless man on the floor, trying to assess damage. Immediately after came Haechan, carrying a basket full of different products, which he almost dropped when he saw the state his pack brother was in. 

“What happened?!” Jeonghan asked, kneeling down and wrapping an arm over your shoulders protectively. 

“I d-don’t know! I just shook his hand,” you said.

 Haechan, who had been checking Mark’s pulse, moved his hand from his wrist to his forehead, confirming that he was burning up. “So he became like this right after you touched him?” he asked, staring at you intently, his tone indicating that he knew something you didn’t. 

“I guess? I…I really didn’t do anything to him, I swear!” your voice shook, thinking you were being accused of harming such a nice guy. You tried to stand up but, again, your weak legs pulled you back to the floor and you let out a frustrated groan as Jeonghan helped you reach a chair. 

“Are you okay?” your friend asked you anxiously, stabilizing you on the chair.

“I’m fine!” you sighed. “I’m probably just nervous. I’m not used to people fainting in front of me- Why haven’t you called an ambulance yet?!” you urged him.

“No need,” Haechan interrupted you before Jeonghan could pull his phone out of his pocket. “This is just his rut. It was due a couple of days, but I guess it came early,” he explained, his eyes shining too excitedly for someone whose friend was unconscious on the floor. He chuckled under his breath like the whole situation was amusing. “He’s fine. He just needs to get home and rest.I’ll ask someone to pick us up,” he added, quickly typing on his phone.

 In less than 20 minutes, an old fashioned vehicle pulled up by the store, a man hurriedly getting off the car and making his way to the entrance, stopping midtrack once he opened the door and found himself surrounded by adult toys. 

“Yeah, yeah, this is a sex shop. People have sex, surprise!” Haechan said sarcastically, gesturing to the newcomer to come in. 

“How’s he?” the intimidatingly tall man asked, after clearing his throat and taking long strides towards where you were. Thankfully, the store was almost empty when the whole incident had taken place, so Jeonghan had quickly kicked the remaining customers out and closed the store, helping Haechan move Mark to a more comfortable place while you got some wet towels to reduce his fever. Now Mark was lying on an improvised bed made of blankets and clothes, almost looking like he was taking a peaceful nap. 

“He’s fine, Johnny,” Haechan chuckled. “Our little Mark is just a bit overwhelmed.”

Johnny turned to you and Jeonghan and thanked you for taking care of his brother, before kneeling next to Mark and Haechan. “I didn’t know his rut was due today,” he muttered.

“Because it wasn’t,” Haechan simply said, giving Johnny a playful look. 

 Johnny stared back at him and raised his eyebrows. “Then what-” he trailed off when he saw Haechan tilting his head furtively towards you, the movement barely perceptible but enough to make Johnny look at you out of the corner of his eyes. Thankfully you were busy talking to Jeonghan, who did catch Johnny staring before the tall werewolf quickly turned his back towards him and tried to move Mark carefully. “Which one,” Johnny whispered only for Haechan to hear, to which Haechan mouthed ‘the girl,’ eliciting an impressed grin from Johnny. “Okay, Markie, let’s get you out of here,” Johnny’s voice was back to normal volume, lifting Mark off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder, Mark’s weak groan being the only sign that he was alive. Haechan followed after him, carrying bags of new toys with him and thanking you again for everything before exiting the shop and getting in the car. 

 Once you and Jeonghan were left alone in the store, you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeonghan asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, stretching your body now that your legs seemed to function properly. “This town has more werewolves than I thought,” you suddenly said. 

“I´ve heard about those guys. It’s a big pack that moved here a couple of years ago, and for some reason the number of members keeps increasing,” Jeonghan huffed as he moved towards the counter to close the cash register. “I also heard some of them are imprinting on humans,” he added slowly, looking at you attentively. 

“Imprinting,” you repeated unconvinced such a thing was ever real. “Do you really believe in that whole soulmate thing wolves have going on?”

Jeonghan hummed and seemed to focus on his task of counting bills. “How would I know? I’m not one of them,” he finally said. “It could be real.”

“It’s an ancient tradition. Someone probably came up with it to keep them from having sex with whoever they want,” you spitted.

“They can still have sex with whoever they want,” for some reason Jeonghan was defending werewolves’ outdated way of thinking. “But they are more likely to settle down once they find someone who is very important to them.”

“That's called commitment,” you fired back. “Which is not the same as being forced to like someone through imprinting.”

“They are also gifted,” Jeonghan continued matter of factly, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, like he didn’t like admitting to it. “Down there. Massive dicks.”

“Jeonghan, we literally sell toys that could satisfy me better than a traditionalist guy with attachment issues who thinks having a big dick makes him special,” you deadpanned. 

“Okay!” Jeonghan sighed and raised his arms defensively. “No need to be so defensive.”

“I’m not-,” you stopped yourself because you were in fact being defensive. Why did you care? Was it really because you hated old-fashioned ways of thinking? Was there something else bothering you? To be fair, you had been unnecessarily mean; you didn’t think any of the werewolves you just met were traditionalist assholes with attachment issues. Mark especially seemed like such a kind and chill guy. The type of guy you would have asked out on a date if he hadn’t passed out in front of you. Maybe that’s what bothered you: was Mark the type of werewolf who followed traditions to the extent he wouldn’t even give you a chance in order to prioritize his supposed mate? “Sorry, you’re right. It has nothing to do with me anyways.”

When Mark woke up, his head was throbbing and your lovely scent felt like a distant memory. His muscles ached when he sat up and he winced at the way his shirt stuck to his sweaty body. As he took the messy shirt off he heard a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” he croaked, after taking a proper look at his surroundings and recognising his own room. The door opened slowly and the youngest member of the pack slid into his room, carrying a glass of water and a little medication bottle. Mark could already tell what type of medication it was.

“They told me to give you these,” Jisung offered him the suppressants and waited until Mark had successfully opened the jar and taken a pill into his hands before offering the glass of water.

“Thanks,” Mark muttered before swallowing the pill and gulping down the content of the glass. 

“Do you need anything else?” The younger asked sympathetically.

“No,” Mark assured him, already having gone through his rut so many times he just knew there wasn’t much he could do about it besides fucking it out of his system, by himself or with somebody else. “I just have to wait for the suppressants to kick in and I’ll feel a bit better.”

“Do suppressants really help?” Jisung asked curiously. He had only had a rut once and he spent it with his mate, so he didn’t have to suffer as much as his older brothers. 

“They make the whole thing bearable,” Mark answered, cracking his neck and sighing tiredly. “But it’s still a pain in the ass,” he admitted.

“Is he awake?” Haechan’s voice called from the door. “You got me worried when I saw you unconscious on the floor, man. I calmed down because I understood what was happening, but you probably scared the shit out of the people who worked at the store. That poor girl didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled, inviting himself into the room and sitting on Mark’s bed. 

“Fuck,” Mark groaned at the reminder of such embarrasing first impression and he flopped into the bed. “Y/N…”

“Who is Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“That, little Jisung, would be Mark’s mate,” Haechan revealed and then looked at Mark for confirmation. “Am I right?” 

 Mark whined and covered his face with his palms, but he nodded. 

“And you met her thanks to who…?” Haechan continued, looking from Jisung to Mark , adding a dramatic pause. “Me! I was the one who took you to that sex shop!”

“S-sex shop?!” Jisung choked on his saliva and stared at Mark in shock as if he was waiting for him to tell him it was one of Haechan’s jokes. 

“That’s right,” Haechan laughed and then he gasped as he seemed to remember something. “Hold on, I got you something,” he suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room shortly,and coming back with a pair of handcuffs which he gave to Jisung. “Here. These are for the next time your mate tries to run away.”

Jisung’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the pink, fluffy handcuffs in his palms. “S-shut up!” He stuttered as aggressively as he could in spite of his voice cracking. “Noona’s not going anywhere,” he muttered to himself.

“Fine,” Haechan rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Give them back if you don’t want them.”

“N-no,” Jisung said quickly and hid the gift behind his back. “You gave them to me.”

“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?!” Mark suddenly groaned. Haechan’s voice was making his headache worse and he really wanted some peace before his rut hit completely. And he definitely wanted to be alone when touched himself to the thought of you. 

The next few days were a blur. Mark lost count of how many times he cummed in his hand, on the bedsheets and finally in a fleshlight that Haechan sneaked into his room as a gift at some point. At first,  ready to reject whatever ridiculous toy he was bringing, he yelled at Haechan to get out and threw a shoe at him, which Haechan avoided just in time by leaving and closing the door behind him. But then Mark caught your scent. It was very faint, but he would recognise it anywhere. Dizzy, he got up, and crawled towards the fleshlight Haechan had left by the door. He inspected it , never before being so mesmerized by a toy, and bringing it close to his face to inhale your scent deeply. “Y/N…”

“I knew you would like it,” Haechan chuckled from the other side of the door, startling Mark. “It’s a small human size.I went to the store and made sure Y/N was the one selling it to me. I asked her to open the product and test it in front of me…,” he teased. “She stuffed her fingers inside of it to demonstrate how flexible the material is.”

Mark groaned and slid his tongue into the toy hungrily, trembling as he got to taste a bit of you before your scent faded away. 

“She asked about you.I told her you were fine and that you were sorry for scaring her. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her the fleshlight was for you,” Haechan continued, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door. “That Jeonghan guy is totally onto me though; he wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I’m the  biggest perv-,” she trailed off as he suddenly heard wet, slippery sounds, indicating that Mark had wasted no time in using his new gift. “Gross! Wait until I’m gone!” Haechan yelled and ran off. Mark was too gone to care, fucking into the toy with intent and imagining it was you. 

No matter how insufferable Haechan was, this would really help him get through his rut more easily. He should thank him later.Later. Now he really couldn’t think with anything but his cock. He let his animal instinct take over and he forgot about everything and everyone except you, and by the time he gained some self control and clarity back, he found the sticky fleshlight completely destroyed in his hands.He panted heavily as he grabbed some tissues to clean himself before he stood up and put some clothes on for the first time in days. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a bag hanging off the handle containing a bottle of water and some energy bars, which he quickly devoured before heading to take a shower. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jeno asked him as soon as he entered the living room where some of the younger members of the pack were hanging out. 

“I’m good,” Mark sighed. “This one was kind of intense, though…”

“We heard,” Jeno said, quickly correcting himself when Renjun nudged him and gave him a pointed look. “I mean, we can imagine.”

“The first rut after meeting your mate is hell if you don’t spend it together,” Jaemin butted in. 

“To be fair, your mate was particularly difficult,” Jeno told Jaemin. “She denied you for months.”

“Which I’m sure won’t be the case for Mark,” Jaemin assured Mark, who was squirming anxiously on his seat. “You already know her name and where to find her, and from what we heard she’s single.”

“Wha-how do you guys know that?”

“Haechan said he couldn’t smell anybody else’s scent on her, besides the guy who works with her,” Renjun clarified. “Just go see her when you feel better-”

 Renjun’s voice was overpowered by loud whines and complaints coming from the main door, where Haechan and Yangyang were making their entrance.

“I didn’t know!” Yangyang sighed tiredly, like he had been forced to repeat the same thing many times. 

“Well now you know, you little traitor,” Haechan hissed, pulling Yangyang’s arm and carrying him to the living room, where everyone stared at them wide-eyed. “Oh, look! Mark is here! Why don’t you tell him who you were planning on letting suck your dick?”

“Look, Mark,” Yangyang gulped, looking anywhere except Mark’s confused face, which was quickly morphing into one of apprehension. “I didn’t mean to- I just-...I was walking back from campus and I saw that new sex shop downtown and there was this hot-” he interrupted himself and looked at Haechan, who was raising his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on. “-a woman. I-I saw a woman who was hanging a sign outside the store, something about needing a volunteer to try a new potion. So I asked what it was about, and she said-...” he paused again and breathed in, knowing there was no nice way to say it. “She said it was something that would like, uh- turn off her gag reflex when doing oral, and that she needed a guy whose size was above average and when I asked how she was gonna test it, she said that-...that she tried all her potions herself…So like, she would be the one d-doing the…the sucking,” he trailed off, his voice going quiet as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.

“...You didn’t,” Renjun was the only one to speak. “...did you?”

“Ugh, I…,” Yangyang groaned. “I’m a man, okay? Why would I say no to a pretty girl sucking me off and giving me cash for it?!” 

“MARK’S MATE GAVE YOU A BLOWJOB?!” Jeno exclaimed incredulously. 

“NO!” Yangyang quickly shut him up and looked for Mark’s lifeless eyes before denying it again. “No. Nothing happened. I had an interview with her and a guy who works there. They measured my cock, asked for a sexual health check-up and told me to come back tomorrow with the results. I called Haechan to ask him about a good clinic to get tested and he practically jumped down my throat,” he explained nervously. “I…I really didn’t know.”

Everyone stayed silent, looking at Mark who was scarily quiet, clenching his jaw and looking at his own hands folded on his lap. “So? Are you going tomorrow?” he asked cautiously.

Yangyang shook his head quickly, but it was Haechan who  spoke. “He isn’t. But you should.”

“Me?!” Mark bawled out. 

“Do you want her sucking somebody else off?!” Haechan spit back. “If it’s not Yangyang, there will be another dude out there who’s willing to do it.”

“Haechan’s got a point there,” Jaemin agreed. “She’s gonna test that potion anyways, and you were lucky that the one finding out about it was one of our pack. She won’t be looking for somebody else because she’s expecting Yangyang to show up tomorrow. This is your chance.”

“But she’s expecting him, not me,” Mark said bitterly. 

“Not at all! She didn’t seem particularly interested in me. She just thought I was hygienic enough, I guess,” Yangyang laughed awkwardly. “It was kind of intimidating how professional she was about it, to be honest.”

“This is the plan,” Haechan asserted, like he had been waiting the entire time to show how much of a mastermind he was. “Yangyang’s gonna call tomorrow before his appointment and let them know that he had an accident or something,” he quickly explained, ignoring Yangyang’s whine of how bad he was at lying. “And then he’ll say that he sent someone to replace him and BOOM! You show up with your STD test results and your monster cock and she falls in love.”

“Then he would have to go get tested right now,” Renjun said, entertaining Haechan’s plan.

“No need!” Haechan laughed like he was revealing the biggest plot twist. “Because last week, I forced Mark to go with me to get my annual check up and he ended up getting tested since he was already there. Who saved the day again? ME!”

“Problem solved, then,” Jaemin beamed, like it was actually that easy.

 Mark nodded slowly and then, when he actually processed what he was agreeing to, he shook his head violently. “No, no way. I can’t do it.”

“What?!” Jeno asked. “Man, you have to!”

“I- I just can’t,” Mark stuttered.

“What, is she ugly?” Jeno asked incredulously. 

“No,” both Mark and Yangyang answered immediately. Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at Yangyang who didn’t seem to think he said anything wrong. “What? She really isn’t,” he tried to defend himself.

Mark sighed. “I literally just met her. I haven’t even asked her out. How am I supposed to-...do that?,” he admitted.

“I understand this may not be your ideal version of a fated meeting,” Renjun spoke in a calming manner. “But if you want to take things slowly, you must know that she will be testing all these…sex potions with somebody else. Are you okay with that?”

Mark shook his head and clenched his fists, biting his lip. Hell, no.  He could never be okay with anybody else touching you now that he met you. But that was exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t man up and showed up to get a platonic blowjob from his mate who didn’t know was his mate and would suck him off for science/magic purposes only. 

 And so, Mark found himself standing outside your store the next evening, wearing an expensive hoodie (to keep it casual, but not broke), gray sweatpants that, according to Haechan, accentuated the goods, brand new boxers and holding a neat folder with his check-up results printed in his hands.He took a deep breath in and stepped towards the door, before stopping himself again but this time the door opened from the inside,and  he was greeted with Jeonghan’s impassive face. 

“Are you gonna come in or not? It stresses me out to see you having whatever internal battle this is in front of my store,” Jeonghan said.

“No-I mean, yes! I was just about-...uh, my brother asked me to- well, he like, sent me to-...,” Mark struggled to get to the point and ended up just giving Jeonghan the folder he was holding. Jeonghan grabbed the folder with a puzzled look, which quickly became one of amusement as he opened it and understood what he had in his hands. 

“You’re Yangyang’s replacement?” he asked, his tone slightly playful.

“Uh, yes…if that’s okay,” Mark said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he wasn’t what they were looking for?

“Well, you’re clean and you seem to have a decent size,” Jeonghan pointed out, looking at Mark’s crotch shamelessly. “I’ll just need to ask you a few questions to make sure we’re good to go. You’re also allowed to ask us anything and back down if you feel it’s too much for you,” he explained, making space for Mark to enter the shop and then hanging a sign indicating that they were closed. He then guided Mark to the room where he had first met you before he had any time to prepare himself. “Hey, Y/N, look who’s back!”

You were not expecting to see Mark at all after what had happened last time. First of all, he had literally fainted in your store, which you thought was enough to make him not want to go back there ever. Secondly, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would casually go to a sex shop. But there he was, standing in front of you and stuttering something about wanting to volunteer for potion testing. As he was speaking, you found yourself looking down and vividly staring at his dick print, salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. When you looked back up, your eyes met Jeonghan’s knowing ones and you knew he had caught you red handed. Okay you had a tiny crush on this Mark guy, but what you were about to do was strictly professional. 

“Are you sure you’re okay doing this? Didn’t you go into rut recently?” you asked, indicating for him to sit down in the chair across yours, as Jeonghan took a sit next to you, going over some papers and taking notes. 

“I’m fine. Also…I’m sorry for last time,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It must have been shocking.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I-...” you quickly corrected yourself. “We are glad you’re okay. If you want to do this we need to ask you a few questions first, is that okay?”

When Mark nodded, Jeonghan shot the first question. “Are you a virgin?”

“N-no,” Mark stuttered. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”

“When was the last time you had sexual relationships?” you asked, trying not to make it noticeable that what you actually wanted to know was if he was seeing someone.

“Uh maybe 5 months ago? Or more, I’m not too sure, sorry.”

“No girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Jeonghan asked, even though that was not one of the questions on the list.

“No, I’m single,” Mark stated more confidently, his eyes darting towards you nervously. 

“Would you be willing to participate in future testing for our products?” you asked, again trying not to show how much you wanted him to say yes.

“Yes,” Mark said firmly, this time staring right into your eyes. He wanted you to call him and only him for whatever you wanted to test. You blushed a little, but quickly hid your face behind some papers you pretended to be reading.

“Did you like the fleshlight?” Jeonghan asked as quickly as Mark answered the previous question, again, not following the script.

“Yes,” Mark answered honestly, caught off guard, and blushing furiously when he properly understood  what he had just admitted. Shit. Fuck. Okay, Mark, keep it cool, nothing wrong with using a fleshlight. Just move on to the next question. “But I split it open, s-sorry,” fuck why would you tell them that, Mark?!

“Oh?” Jeonghan was having the time of his life. “How come? Our toys are very resistant.”

“The toy was g-great! Amazing quality, very soft,” Mark cringed at his own words, because he had no idea how to rate a sex toy and it showed. “It’s just that ruts are… rough,” he said for a lack of a better word to describe how wild things got when his wolf consumed him.

 You gulped and cleared your throat while Jeonghan let out an impressed whistle and took some notes. “I guess we need to make them even more resistant, then,” you said. “Anyways, Jeonghan is going to measure you now so I’ll step out for a minute and come back when you’re ready, okay?”

When Mark agreed, you left the room and went straight to the restroom to wash your face and calm yourself down. Did he really break the toy with his dick? Fuck, he was going to destroy your throat. But then, he was the perfect candidate to test the potion; if you could deep throat him, it meant your creation had been successful. You took a deep breath in and drank the anti-gagging potion before you made your way to the potions room, waiting for your sign to go in. Then Jeonghan came out and wiggled his eyebrows at you, chuckling.

“I’ll bring you some honey and lemon tea for your throat tomorrow,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the counter to count today’s cash. “He’s all yours.”

You rolled your eyes and walked in. “Mark? are you ready?”

 Mark was standing, adjusting the hem of his sweatpants around his hips, giving you a teaser of his defined abdomen and hipbones. He blushed, and nodded. “So… how should we do this?”

“Just take a seat and let me do the rest,” you instructed, quickly kneeling in front of the chair he was now sitting in.

“Y/N,” he suddenly called your name, and his hand stopped yours from pulling the elastic of his pants down.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, your heart dropping at the thought of being rejected. “Did you change your mind?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I was just wondering… Why are you trying the potion yourself? Couldn’t you have found somebody willing to test their gag reflex?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, distracting by the way his thumb was drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “But I find it hard to trust other people when it comes to feedback. This is my product so I want to make sure it works. Plus, I happen to have a strong gag reflex; everything makes me choke,” you shrugged, without noticing the way Mark’s breath stuttered. “So if someone can tell if this potion works, it’s me.”

Mark nodded and exhaled. “Is this the very first time you drink this potion?”

“No. I’ve tested it with inanimate objects, like some of the dildos we sell,” you said and Mark hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his dick twitched at the mental image of your pretty lips sucking on a toy. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna vomit all over you,” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. You wanted Mark to relax, to feel safe with you. “Any more questions?”

 Oh, there was so much that Mark wanted to ask you, like what was your favorite color or if you liked flowers, but he knew it was not the right time, so he just shook his head and released your hand, letting you pull down the waistband carefully. Once you lowered his sweatpants slightly, you looked up at him, looking for any sign of discomfort, but besides the intense blushing that covered his face and ears, he seemed fine, so you took it further by pulling his boxers down enough to release his cock and you gasped out loud. Now you could understand how he managed to destroy the fleshlight.

When you stared at his dick for way too long,Mark got the wrong idea. “You d-don’t have to-“ he tried to say but he ended up hissing when you took him in your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured before remembering you had to keep it professional. “For testing, I mean.”

“O-okay, okay g-glad to hear-ooh!” Mark definitely shouldn’t be trying to have a conversation right now. You had barely touched him and he was already half hard. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t even think when you were in your knees between his legs and stroking his cock like that.

 On your side, you knew you didn’t need to be jerking him off. The deal was just to put it in your mouth and see if it could reach your throat without gagging you, but it was like you had no control over your actions right now. Just like last time you had seen Mark, your heart was fluttering and you felt lightheaded and all you wanted was for him to feel good.

 Carefully, you flicked the head of his cock with your tongue, causing his back to arch and his hips to chase your mouth. “S-sorry,” he quickly apologized, already panting. 

“It’s fine,” you purred, your tone a bit too seductive to be professional. Fuck what was Mark doing to you? You were basically drooling as you trailed your tongue from the base to the tip. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

“Fuck,” Mark moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his fist on his sides, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Y-yes,” he consented.

 You didn’t waste more time, guiding the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking softly, and delighting on the hushed curses that left Mark’s mouth. You worried the problem wouldn’t be your gag reflex; you had underestimated his girth, which was making it difficult to even fit him between your lips. You worked on relaxing your jaw and took a bit more of his cock in, trying your best not to let your teeth scratch him.

“Shit…Y/N,”  Mark sobbed, trembling under you, when his tip met your throat and you successfully swallowed around him.  One of his hands grabbing the hem of his hoodie and lifting it enough to expose his tense lower abdomen. You looked up through your eyelashes, enamored by the way his brows furrowed in pleasure and his chest rose and fell. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hands traveled up, caressing his waist and stomach, which contracted under your hands. Your head bobbed up and down slowly, still trying to remind yourself to be careful of his size in spite of his soft moans driving you crazy.

“Mark,” you call for him, swirling your tongue around the tip teasingly. “Mark,” you repeat when he doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he panted. He acknowledged you with a soft ‘hmm?’ and you spoke again. “I need you to fuck my mouth now,” you spoke casually, like you were talking about the weather and Mark could have died right there.

“Wha-,” he stuttered, trying not to panic. “W-what?!”

“I need to check if the potion is still effective when things get rough,” you blushed, hoping not to sound too desperate. In your defense, it was for the sake of the experiment, but a part of you really wanted Mark to fuck your mouth. “You don’t want to?” you whispered, suddenly considering that maybe he wasn’t into you and was only doing this for the money. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as you thought. And that shouldn’t bothering you, but it was.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard he was and how badly he did want to face-fuck you. “I’m-...I’m stronger than I look, Y/N. I would ruin you.”

“That’s the point,” you simply said, again trying to help him relax, but also god, did you want it. Mark groaned and clenched his eyes closed, a bead of precum sliding down the head of his cock to your hand that was jerking him off slowly. “So, no?” you asked one last time. Mark bit his lip and avoided your eyes, and you felt officially rejected. “That’s fine, I won’t force you,” you accepted your defeat, trying not to be too bitter about it, slowly letting go of his dick and getting ready to stand up and leave with some dignity. “Please tell Yangyang to come whenever he has time-”

 Now, that seemed to do it for Mark. Before you could stand up or finish speaking, he tangled his hand in your hair and pushed your head down onto him roughly. A guttural moan left his lips and you whined in surprise and looked up to him; his eyes had turned red and his jaw was clenched. Without a word he pulled your hair a little and thrusted his hips up sharply, causing you to let out a muffled cry. 

“Like this?” he panted, placing both his hands on your head and moving you up and down his length fast, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. “Is this what you w-wanted?” he growled, not even hiding how irritated he was at the thought of you sucking off his pack brother. The way your jaw stretched for him was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t deny this side of Mark was turning you on. You found yourself wondering if this was the way he treated that poor fleshlight. You also wondered if he had, at least for a second, thought of you during his rut. You moaned around him and his eyes rolled back. “Fuuuuck.”

 He quickly brought his eyes back to look at you, like he didn’t want to miss a single detail and thrusted his hips up into your mouth at the same time he guided your head up and down his cock, his moans becoming louder and more desperate, completely forgetting that Jeonghan could probably hear everything from the other room. You looked so pretty, and he hoped you knew that, so he said it.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he said, one of his hands caressing your cheek, while his other hand kept your head in place to take his slower but more forceful thrusts and swallow the salty precum that for some reason tasted addictive to you. You looked up to him, surprised at the sudden gentle words. You knew for a fact there was no way you looked pretty when you were a drooling mess, with sloppy hair and a dick down your throat, but his mouth hanging open in pleasure, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and the way he looked at you with those intense red eyes filled with lust and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on somehow made you feel like the prettiest girl on earth. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length and Mark finally lost it, letting out a loud moan that sounded like your name mixed with profanities as hot and thick liquid invaded your tastebuds. Mark kept your head right there while he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure you swallowed every drop and caressing your hair and praising you until he lost all strength and let his body relax on the chair, releasing the hold he had on you. You let go of his cock with a soft ‘pop’, pulled his pants and boxers back up and rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath and clenching your thighs to get some relief, incredibly aroused. 

“W-was that okay?” Mark asked after a while, hoping you didn’t hate him.

“Yeah…” you replied dreamingly, feeling lightheaded. “Perfect.”

“Y/N,” Mark breathed out, caressing your hair and looking at you lovingly. “Can I…Would you let me make you feel good too?”

“Huh?” you croaked, looking up at him. Mark inhaled deeply and sighed, focusing his eyes on your crotch and then you remembered that wolves had an enhanced sense of smell.He could surely smell how wet you were. How embarrassing. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up too quickly and almost falling because your legs were not ready for that. Mark immediately stood up and caught you in his arms, pulling your body and face dangerously close to his. “I- it’s…,” you tried to speak, but it was hard when Mark was close enough to kiss you. “You don’t h-have to, r-really,”

“I want to,” Mark whispered like he was hypnotized, licking his lips and staring at yours hungrily. “Please let me…” 

 Oh, he was trouble. You wanted to say yes to anything he asked from you. But your prideful side reminded you that you had had to basically beg him to fuck your mouth. It wasn’t like he actually wanted you. “No need,” you finally said, pushing him away gently and turning around to search for his payment. You came back to him and offered him an envelope with cash. “Thank you for your help. It looks like the potion works perfectly,” you said politely, becoming your professional persona again, much to Mark’s disappointment. 

He looked from the envelope to your face, until he remembered that, according to you, what had just happened was all business. The fact that you would go on thinking that he would just let anyone suck him off for money made him feel physically ill, but then, he is the one who showed up for the job. He looked away and nodded, before taking the envelope and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, without sparing it a glance. “No problem,” he muttered, dragging his feet towards the exit, but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, addressing you. “Hey, Y/N! Uh… do you, like, maybe- I was wondering if you,” just ask for her number,dude. Why can’t you do it?! “Is there any other potion you need to try?” he asked instead. Mark, you fucking loser.

“Uh…” you pondered for a few seconds. You would love to see him again, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But he did say he would be willing to participate in future testing during the interview. “There’s something I’m working on these days,” you admitted shyly, shifting around because of the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs. 

“Call me,” Mark said quickly. “Whenever you want to try a new product, call me first,” he added, pointing at the folder where Jeonghan had written all his information, including his phone number. “I’ll t-try them out… with you.”

“O-okay,” you knew you were blushing and you couldn’t even hide the small smile on your lips. Again, you tried not to let it get to your head; for all you knew he could just be desperate for more cash. “We’ll let you know.”

 As soon as Mark got home, he was met with uncountable indiscreet questions. The entire house, and maybe the neighborhood knew he had been out there getting a blowjob.

“Did she fall for you?” Haechan asked, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne ready to be opened. 

“Not even close,” Mark grunted. 

“What?!” he lowered the bottle, disappointed.”What happened?!” 

“She gave me the best orgasm of my life and then gave me money,making it very clear it had been for the sake of her business,” Mark muttered, plopping on the couch as his brothers surrounded him with curious eyes. “Didn’t even let me return the favor…”

“So this is it?” Chenle butted in. “You’re giving up?”

“No, I… I told her I was willing to volunteer to test other products and she said she would let me know if something came up.”

Some of the guys gave each other skeptical looks, communicating with their eyes that they thought you wouldn’t call Mark.

“No. You’re going to that store every damn day if you have to,” Haechan said stubbornly.

“Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone,” Mark sighed, remembering how Haechan had showed up in their mate’s store everyday for months to win her over. “A guy going to a sex shop everyday? She’ll think I’m a perv.”

“Persistence is key,” Haechan insisted, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He stood up and left to lock himself in his room, leaning against the door. He took the cash envelope out of his pocket and threw it somewhere on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. He should have asked for your number like a normal man interested in a woman. Why did he have to be such a coward? He probably wouldn’t hear from you again.

…But he did. After a couple of weeks of him watching the store from afar (while Haechan straight up went to the store and bought whatever just to make sure you weren’t testing any potions with somebody else), one morning he got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” he murmured lethargically, still half asleep.

“Hello? Is this, uh…Mark Lee?” your voice asked on the other side of the line.

“Y/N, shit-,” he sat up immediately as soon as he recognised your voice. “Sorry, I was- Y-yes, this is M-mark.”

“Hi, Mark, this is Y/N ,from Pandora’s Box,” you introduced yourself even though you had clearly heard him say your name. “We were wondering if you were still interested in helping us test our products,” you recited just like you had practiced a thousand times before making the call.

“Yes, please!” Mark answered way too quickly. “I mean, I would love to- I… sure, I can help.”

“Would you be available Saturday night?”

“Y-yeah, Saturday sounds great,” honestly, he would have showed up in his pajamas right now if you had asked him to.

“Great! I’ll text you the address. Save my number!” you said quickly and hung up before he could question if it all had been a dream. You put the phone down and glared at Jeonghan. “Happy now?” you asked him sarcastically and he laughed.

“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked back. He had been teasing you ever since the last time Mark had visited the store. Being your best friend meant he could immediately tell when you liked someone and you really really liked Mark. So Jeonghan, being the good friend he was, had been pestering you day and night to call Mark directly instead of recruiting new volunteers to test your potion. 

Still on his bed, Mark was having a thousand different thoughts a second. You’d said you would send him an address. So you wouldn’t meet at the store? And you also told him to save your number… so the phone you used to call him had to be yours, right? Oh god, was this like a date? Just then, a notification of a message from the same number popped up, informing him of the address he had to go to the next day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He bit his lip nervously. Why did you have to keep treating everything like a job? Would it kill you to send an emoji? But he told himself this was no time to be pessimistic. You had called him, and that was a good start.

 And here he was now, on a Saturday night, ringing the bell of an apartment and trying to control his anxiety. 

“Mark?” He was met with your flustered face when you opened the door, wearing an oversized shirt that had him wondering if you were completely bare under it. “You’re early!” you said, pulling the hem of the shirt lower to cover you better. “S-sorry, come in! I’ll just get changed quickly.”

“You don’t have to!” Mark said way too fast, having a hard time to stop looking at your thighs. “I m-mean, you can if you want to, but I…I don’t mind… like, at all.”

You blushed and stared at Mark, not knowing how to reply to that, because he was obviously checking you out.

“I mean, this is your house,” Mark stated. It wasn’t a question; your scent was everywhere. “You get to wear whatever you want, right?” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t making it that obvious that he didn’t want you to cover up. “Why are we meeting here, by the way?”

“I thought some privacy would be nice,” you said, remembering how Jeonghan made fun of you because of how loud Mark had been last time. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not all all.”

“Cool,” you sighed. “I just need to add a couple of ingredients and the potion will be ready. Make yourself at home,” you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding not to change clothes, partly because your current outfit was comfortable, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed Mark’s eyes on your body.

Instead of finding a seat and killing time on his phone, Mark followed you, hoping you didn’t mind some company. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you do your thing, trying to come up with something to say to start a conversation.

“How’s your throat?” he finally asked, watching you almost drop the spoon you were holding. 

“Fine,” you gave him a short answer. He didn’t need to know you could barely speak for a couple of days after you deepthroated him.

“Good to hear,” he whispered, watching you with doting eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. Maybe it was because your aroma was surrounding him, but he found himself feeling more relaxed and open to speak without filtering his words.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you assured him, not daring to look at him and focusing on your potion instead. “You were…really good.”

“Yeah?” he purred, feeling lightheaded by the domestic view of you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the kitchen, wishing he could see this everyday of his life.

“Y-yeah,” you gulped,feeling his eyes boring into you. “Okay, uh-I’m gonna need a drop of your blood,” you changed the topic quickly.

“Sure,” Mark didn’t even question it. You could have all of him. He walked towards you and let you grab his hand, using a needle to prick his index finger as fast and unpainfully as you could, letting a single drop of his blood pour into the cauldron. Immediately after, you did the same to your own finger, letting your blood mix with his in the potion. “What does this potion do?” Mark asked.

You gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone?”

Mark shook his head, chuckling. You remembered how you were so nervous you hung up on him as soon as he agreed to help.

“And you still came? Without even knowing-” you gasped when Mark took your hand into his and slid your injured finger into his mouth, softly sucking on it.

“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, giving it little licks,  completely forgetting the conversation you were having just now.

“N-no,” you sighed, confused and nervous at the loving way Mark had been behaving ever since he entered your place. Maybe he was just being nice and you were imagining things. “Anyways, about the potion,” you raised your voice in panic, removing your hand from his and going back to mixing the potion. “It will make you feel what your partner feels. This way, people can know if what they are doing is enjoyable and no one needs to fake their orgasms.”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, now pouring the bright pink potion in two different glasses and offering one to him.

“Faked an orgasm?”

“Of course. Not like men care enough to check,” you said, hearing Mark tsk next to you. “So, after we drink this potion, I would need you to touch yourself,” you swallowed nervously, hoping not to scare Mark away with your straightforwardness. “ Nothing too wild, just something that feels good to you and we’ll see if I feel it too… if you are still up for it?”

Mark raised an eyebrow and straight up drank the potion, not leaving a single drop behind. He wouldn’t even dream of letting you try that out with somebody else. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head towards your glass. You hesitated for a moment before drinking the potion too.

“S-so, you can use the bathroom and uh-...do whatever you need t-to do,” you stuttered nervously, showing him where the bathroom was and letting him have some privacy. You assumed he would probably need to watch some porn on his phone or something, but you had no idea your scent already had him on edge. As soon as you sat down on the sofa, you felt a tingling sensation on your neck, which traveled to your shoulders and then your arms. And then it clicked; you were feeling his fingers. He was gently caressing his own body like he would to a lover and you could feel it on yourself. You gasped when the invisible fingers ran down your chest and grazed your nipples softly before toying with them. Oh fuck, the potion really worked.

Mark never took his sweet time like this when touching himself, but just thinking that he was indirectly touching you made him want to seize the opportunity. He closed his eyes and let his hands move like they were exploring your body. He teased himself by running his hands up and down his abdomen several times, always stopping at the waistband before sneaking only the tip of his fingers in, imagining you begging him to get to it.

In the other room, you were mentally begging for him. His faint touches had you trembling and wanting to touch yourself. You didn’t, because you knew he would feel it if you were pleasuring yourself and it would be embarrassing, but god you wanted to. Thankfully, Mark seemed to have mercy on himself-on you- and slid his hand past his boxers, fully palming himself and letting out a moan that echoed past the bathroom walls. You bit your lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped you, quickly crossing your legs at the sudden stimulation, arching your back when you felt slow circles being drawn on your clit. Shit, he was teasing the head of his cock, going from slow big circles to tiny fast ones that had you squirming on your seat. That’s when it hit you that he wasn’t doing this to himself, but to you. This fucker was doing it intentionally. 

 Mark started stroking his cock furiously, knowing it would take you by surprise and smirking victoriously when he heard a whine coming from the living room. He was so thankful for his enhanced hearing right now, because he could hear every little gasp you let out like you were right in front of him. When he felt himself close to his climax he stopped moving his hand and chuckled at the way you whimpered. He pulled his pants back up and exited the bathroom to find you in the living room.

“Did it work?” he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at your frustrated, blushing face. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again and nodded. He eyed you up and licked his lips, before sitting on the couch in front of you. “Shouldn’t we test if it works both ways?”

“W-what?” you croaked, breathing heavily. 

“Don’t you need to know if I feel what your body feels too?” he asked, scanning your body carefully.

Even in your aroused state, you knew he was making sense. Plus, you were so close and desperate to cum you didn’t care if it was embarrassing anymore. But you also wanted to get back at him for teasing you. So you obliged, sliding one of your hands under your shirt right there in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what you were doing.He was a bit disappointed when he saw that you were in fact wearing a pair of shorts under your shirt, but he wasn’t going to complain when he had you groping your tits in front of him. He sighed shakily at the way you floundered your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples.

“Can you feel it?” you asked.

Mark licked his lips and shifted on his seat. If he admitted he felt it, would it be over?Would you give him money and kick him out again? He had to make it last. “I-...I’m not too sure. My nipples are not very sensitive so m-maybe…you could touch somewhere else?” he asked hopefully, letting his eyes fixate on your crotch. 

“You’re not sensitive there?” you teased, sliding your hands down your stomach to your shorts. “But you were touching them so much earlier…”

“Did you like it?” he asked hopefully, his body leaning forward and falling on his knees on the floor, slowly crawling towards you and breathing heavily..

“This isn’t about my pleasure,” you sighed, your words contradicting how wet you were when your fingers made contact with your pussy.

“Why not?” Mark asked, on his knees in front of you, looking at your fingers move up and down under the fabric of your shorts.He swallowed back a moan at the way your teasing touch felt on his own body thanks to the potion. “Why can’t it be?”

“I just w-want the best for my b-business,” you said stubbornly between moans, getting closer to your orgasm when a pair of strong hands stopped yours from moving and you gasped. “M-mark?” 

“Then we should test this shit right, don’t you think?” Mark asked through gritted teeth, his eyes displaying the same red color you saw when he fucked your throat weeks ago. 

“T-test it right?” you repeated dumbly, as he took your hand out of your shorts.

“Do you normally just meet up with sexual partners, watch each other touch themselves and call it a day?” Mark asked you nonchalantly. 

“N-no, but…”

“Isn’t the entire point of this to feel if our partner likes what we do to them?” he clarified, gently placing his hands on each of your knees.

 You froze at his words. Was he suggesting you touched each other? You already liked him way too much for what would be a normal crush. You knew you would fall for him badly if you two went any further.

“Let me,” Mark pleaded, moving his palms up and down your thighs and applying more pressure on a spot on your inner thigh he literally felt you liked better. 

Would it really be that bad to give in? To enjoy yourself a little? To allow yourself to feel something for him?

“Okay…” you finally said and Mark didn’t waste a single second more, pulling your tiny shorts off and groaning at the sight of your wet panties sticking to your pussy. He licked you languidly through the thin fabric and moaned loudly at both the way you tasted and his own body receiving the pleasure he was giving you. 

“O-oh my god,” he whined leaning back in, this time more aggressively, moving his head up and down and lapping and sucking brutally.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, trying to close your legs around Mark’s head, who didn’t seem to care at all. He hummed and slid his hands up your thighs to your ass, grabbing your buttcheeks and pushing you against him harder, which made you tremble and throw your head back. “Mark, oh god, M-mark I’m-...I’m gonna-”

Mark knew. He felt how close you had been to coming so many times in the last half an hour. He himself was close too, so he used one of his hands to stroke himself in sync with his tongue, bringing both of you to such a powerful orgasm you couldn’t even moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tensed. Your legs fell off Mark’s shoulders as he continued licking you obsessively. 

“Mark,” you moaned, trying to push his head away weakly. “I’m s-sensitive, Mark.”

Again, he knew. He was trembling himself at the overstimulation, but he didn’t want it to end. “Please,” he whined when you managed to put some distance between you. “Just a little bit more, please,” he begged desperately tugging at your panties which ended up tearing apart in his hands. You gasped and he looked at the ruined material he was holding in his hands. He seemed as confused as you were. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he muttered. You remembered how he had told you that he was stronger than he looked, how he had broken one of your best selling toys and now he had destroyed a pair of panties without even trying. Fuck, the things he could do to you. 

You loved it.

You loved him.

Wait, what? You knew your crush on him was weird, because of how your body reacted to your first encounter, how your mind would go to him 24/7 and how you really wanted him to…bite you?? You looked at him, on his knees, staring back at you cautiously; almost like he could tell what you were thinking, like he felt what you felt not only physically…but emotionally. The potion had worked so well, you could feel everything the other felt. The lust, love, possessiveness, the need he had to mate you, you felt it all. 

He had imprinted on you.

“Y/N…” he could sense it; you were terrified. He reached for your hand, but you quickly stood up, pulling your shirt down and walking away from him with wobbly legs, ignoring your ripped panties sliding down your legs. “Y/N, come on…” he called, standing up and going after you, stopping when you turned back to him, offering him an envelope with his payment. 

“Thank you for your help,” you said robotically, looking at the door instead of him, indicating it was his time to leave. 

Mark glared darkly at the damn envelope in your hands. There you went again, being intimate with him, making him feel like his heart could burst out of happiness and then throwing cash at him like he was a hooker. Why did you have to make it feel so dirty? He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to let you go, but maybe he shouldn’t push it too hard. Maybe you needed some space and you could talk later.

“Keep the money,” he sighed, walking uncomfortably towards the door due to the stickiness in his pants. “See you.”

“You won’t,” you spitted, flinching when he turned around quickly and glared at you. “We w-won’t be calling you for future testing.”

Mark tightened his jaw and stared at you for what felt like an entire minute before he decided he was done being the nice guy. Fuck it. If this was the last time he would see you, he wanted to at least know what your fucking problem was. 

“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you and feeling the anxiety build up in your body while you took some steps back. “Didn’t I satisfy you?”

You looked away. You knew it wasn’t fair to treat him like he was part of a transaction, but you didn’t think you were ready for what a wolf imprinted on you meant.

“We came at the same time, didn’t we? We felt everything the other person felt-we still do,” he continued, chuckling when he felt the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Didn’t I prove my worth as a test subject? Aren’t I the perfect little toy you wanted?”

His words were playful, but you felt the pain and anger behind them.

“You’re not a toy,” you said as firmly as you could.

“Then don’t treat me like one,” Mark growled. 

“When did I ever-”

“You keep shoving money into my pocket and kicking me out as soon as you’re done with me-”

“That was the deal!” you yelled exasperatedly.

“Screw the deal!” he raised his voice too. “ I can literally feel how much you want me. How much you want me to stay. So why are you making me leave? How long are you going to play with my feelings?” he paused, taking a deep breath in and trying to tune into your emotions, trying his best to understand you. “Are you-...afraid of me?” The way your level of anxiety skyrocketed gave him the answer he needed. “Why? B-because I’m a werewolf? Because of my strength?” he asked sadly.

“No, that’s…that’s not a problem for me,” you admitted shyly. Not wanting to say you were into that.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked.

“You imprinted on me,” you confronted him.

“...Yes,” he calmly confessed.

“These…feelings,” you tried to explain, pointing at your body vaguely. “All these things you’re feeling right now, and that now I can feel too… do you- do you feel them all the t-time?”

“Yeah, especially when I think about you,” he sighed. “...which is pretty much all the time.”

“H-how-” you breathed with difficulty. “How do you c-control them? They are so…intense.”

“I don’t,” Mark simply said. “I tried to tone them down at first, but I just made it harder for myself. I accept them and let them control me once in a while.”

“L-let them control you?!” you repeated incredulously. 

“Ah, so this is what this is about,” Mark threw his head back and let out a breathy laugh. “You have control issues.”

 You scoffed, walking angrily towards the kitchen. Not that you had anything to do there, you just wanted to get away.

“Am I wrong?” he challenged, chasing after you. “You’re annoyed because you can’t control the way you feel for me,” he cornered you against the kitchen counter, making you face his red eyes. “And you can’t control me.”

 You visibly shivered at that. “Mark…” 

“I came here because I wanted you. I ate you out because I’ve wanted to taste you since I first saw you. I love feeling this way about you and I have no intention of controlling it,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you, leaving almost no space between you.

 You breathed heavily. His feelings were too intense for your body to take. “Then who’s g-going to be in control?” you asked nervously.

He chuckled. “None of us,” he replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just let go,” he purred against your lips. “Allow yourself to feel it. Feel me.”

So you did. You crashed your lips against his and brought his body into yours desperately, tugging at his hair and moaning wantonly. He cursed under his breath and shoved his tongue into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. You pulled away to breath, which was still hard with how tense you were. “Relax,” Mark murmured, kissing down your neck and nipping at your collarbones. “Feel everything. I got you, pretty girl.”

 You inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling all tension leave your body while Mark’s mouth and hands worshiped your body. A warm sensation filled you and a shiver ran down your spine when you allowed yourself to lose control. “F-fuck, oh my god, Mark-” you moaned out loud when he took your shirt off and attached himself to your tits, licking them obscenely. There was nothing soft and gentle about the way you both were behaving, with your fingers pulling his hair and him humping you desperately, like you both couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that you could feel anything the other could, made it a thousand times more intense. 

“F-fuck I’m gonna cum like this,” Mark whined, rutting his clothed cock against your bare pussy faster, burying his head between your breasts and holding your body tightly against his. The constant friction on your clit had you gasping for air and you soon felt yourself cumming, staining his pants and shaking at the second orgasm you two had shared that night. 

Before you had any time to recover, Mark lifted you off the ground and sat you on the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off and stepping out of his pants and boxers carelessly. He positioned himself between your legs and pressed his naked body against yours, bringing your lips to his for another passionate kiss, and allowing his hands to touch every corner of you. 

Unconsciously you found yourself pressing your hips into his, moaning at the wet sounds that could be heard whenever his cock moved against your wet pussy. He was panting heavily into the messy kiss, physically shaking because of how much he wanted to be inside of you.

“Put it in, god, please, put it in,” you begged him.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, giving you one last kiss before lining up his cock with your entrance and wincing when he could barely slide the tip in. “Y/N, y-you can’t take it-”

“I can, please-please Mark I...,” you slurred your words, grabbing his hips and trying to force him deeper into you. “I c-can.”

“You’re in pain, Y/N,” Mark hissed. The effects of the potion had faded away, but he wasn’t an idiot. He only needed to look at his size and then at yours.

“But, Mark,” you whined, kissing a spot on his neck that had him moaning out loud. “I really want it.”

He took a moment to think.He wanted it too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 

“J-just go slowly, hmm?” you suggested as an alternative to stopping completely. 

Mark nodded. Slow, yeah. He could do that. “D-don’t move,” he warned you, sliding just a tiny bit more of his huge dick into your tight wet hole and groaning when your walls contracted around him. Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it. “Y/N, don’t do that…”

 He looked up to your face and saw that it was pointless to give you any orders right now. Your unfocused eyes and the way you bit your lip created an erotic sight that he would never be able to forget. “Fuck, Y/N” he pushed into you some more while looking at your blissful face and laughed in disbelief. “You’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?” he asked. When you only nodded dumbly, he inhaled sharply and kissed you hungrily, snapping his hips into yours harshly and holding your spasming body against his.

“Shit, d-did you just come?!” Mark asked incredulously, delivering kisses on the corner of your lips and all over your face while you sobbed. “You’re f-fucking insane, did you k-know that?” he spoke as he started fucking you fast and rough from the get go. “So pretty and s-sensitive, just for me.”

“S-so big,” you cried out.

“Yeah?” he cooed, changing the way he was fucking you to slow but deep. “Too big for my pretty girl?” god, he just loved how your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached blindly for something to hold onto, dropping a few kitchen supplies into the floor. “But you said you c-could take it, didn’t you?” he asked, thrusting into you particularly hard and making you scream.

“I gah-I c-can, I can,” you insisted, tears running down your face, which Mark quickly wiped off before he kissed you. “F-uh, faster-” you whined in between kisses.

“Faster?” Mark’s crimson eyes gleamed mischievously, and his hips snapped into yours fast twice, teasing you. “Is this no good?” he asked, resuming his slow pace at sliding in and out of you. You shook your head and tried to bring him closer with your legs around his waist. “Don’t you want to feel every.inch.of.me?” he hissed, accentuated each of the last words with sharp thrusts into your pussy.

You murmured something that Mark couldn’t quite understand, so he stopped his movements to let you catch your breath. “What was that?” he asked you, caressing your cheek. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

“B-bite me…” you croaked weakly.

 Mark’s cock twitched inside of you and it took all of his self control not to come right in that moment. 

“Don’t play with me, Y/N…” he warned you.

You shook your head, moving your hips against his and pulling his hair to bring him dangerously close to your neck. He gasped, salivating at the chance he was being given.

“Bite me, Mark…” you repeated and shuddered when he snarled against your skin and sank his teeth into your neck. You mewled and threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders. “O-oh god, Mark, M-mark fuck-ah!” 

 Without detaching his mouth from your neck, Mark went back to fucking you, this time fast and animalistically like you had asked him to, the pace so fierce that your moans were coming out as staccatos. 

“Uh-uh-aah-ah fuck-fuck, Ma-ark!” you sobbed, sure he was gonna break you, but loving every second of it. 

Mark could not stop as his cock started growing inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N shiiit gonna-...gonna k-knot you fuh- fuck, s-so pretty,” he panted against your neck, giving it gentle kisses as an apology for what he was about to do. “Oh, fuck- ooooh yeah, y-yeah-” he gasped and plunged into you viciously fast, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head and drooling all over your neck  as his abdomen contracted and spurts of cum spilled into you, knot securing it all inside your tight pussy. “Y/N-...Y/N, fuck,” he groaned as you scratched his back, leaving angry red marks all over him.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out once his fluttering heart calmed down enough for him to speak. “My pretty girl,” he purred, pecking your neck and then looking for your lips to kiss you lovingly. “All mine.”

“Yours,” you murmured against his lips, allowing him to kiss you again and again. "And you're mine."

“Does that mean you won’t try your potions on other men?” he asked you, half joking, half serious. 

“Why would I need to? You’re my perfect little toy, after all,” you teased him back, making him groan at the way you used his own words against him. “I’m joking.You’re not a toy,” you clarified, kissing him sweetly and looking into his eyes. “But you’re perfect.”

[hyunniesgirl]

Call it what you want

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Hyunjin were never on the best terms but when you're cheated on and your ex is trying to get you back, Hyunjin does everything he can to prevent it from happening.

Genre: enemies(ish) to lovers, smut, fluff

Words count: 4,038

A/N: all my gratitude and appreciation to my bestie @baby-yongbok who proofread this chapter for me 🩷 thank you so much for the help girly!!!

Warnings for this chapter: gaslight, drinking, mentions of violence, sexual tension, insecure thoughts(if there's anything missing let me know)

Chapter two: Drunk

Previous chapter: shameless

Next chapter: the most precious thing

+18 minors do not interact!!!

You couldn't sleep a wink thinking about the whole situation. ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ Is the only thing that comes to mind when you think about your love life.

You're just so angry and not just because you were cheated on. You can't believe you got so worked up after kissing Hyunjin and his reaction was nearly nonexistent? NOTHING?

Of course you didn't expect it to be the best kiss of his life, he was doing you a favor after all but you got pretty excited and he didn't even get flustered? That's kinda offensive.

After your break up, Eric tried talking to you at school so your friends came up with a system so he wouldn't bother you until you felt ready to face him. You found out after a week that someone filmed Ryujin and Changbin beating the shit out of your ex after you left the party and that made you feel pretty satisfied, it's nice knowing that your friends have your back. So that's the reason he doesn't try getting close to you when your friends are around. Now you are never alone, you always have one of your friends in one of your classes and because you're finishing your course you could choose some electives that overlap with theirs. And luckily most of your class courses are with Chaeryeong.

The problem and the reason why you're so mad is that Hyunjin is sticking around too much, more than he ever did. He is always around the exact friend that's having class with you and you're starting to think that he's doing it on purpose. You’ve had to deal with seeing his disgustingly handsome face every fucking day and it’s been nothing but torture considering the kiss and all of its aftermath. Almost a month has passed since you and Eric broke up. The day after you told him to fuck off, you unblocked his contact just to inform him things were over between you two if it wasn't already pretty obvious.

After communication class you were pretty exhausted, so you and Changbin went to the cafe in front of the school so that you could repay him with a drink of his choice for going out of his way to help protect you from your ex. That's when Hyunjin comes barging into the shop. Why does he always look like he's glowing? He's wearing perfectly fitted clothes as if they were custom made just for him, his hair falls in glamorous waves, it's longer than most men wear but it's just right for him. Long story short: he's hot. You have to admit it and it's really annoying, actually. Why does the guy you dislike have to be so stunning?

"Hey", he says, taking his sunglasses off, bumping fists with Changbin and nodding at you in an attempt to greet you.

"I'm going to order, I'll get yours", he says, seeing the pager light up and buzz on the table.

He asks for a large Iced Americano and the attendant gives him your order. He sees that there's some writing on the coffee sleeve of your drink.

"Hey, saw you and thought you're cute. If you want to hang out sometime, call me: xxx xxxx-xxxx" Hyunjin scoffs, his jaw clenching. He tears the paper apart and throws it in the trash before heading back over to you and Changbin.

"They forgot to put a cup sleeve on mine", you say pouting as you take the drink from Hyunjin's hands. He finds you so cute it's difficult not to smile.

"I can get an extra when I get my order", he suggests and you frown, a strange urge to accept his kindness but you're too proud for that.

"No need, it's not that hot." That’s a lie, it is really hot, but you don't want to accept his help.

"I'm going to meet Chaeryeong, so you can wait for the drink with him, Binnie." You say as you put your bag on your shoulder and wave goodbye. Hyunjin's eyes follow you as you leave, watching you until you are out of his sight.

Chaeryeong was not far, so you thought it wouldn't be a problem to go alone looking for her. When you hear Eric's voice calling for you, you pretend like you didn't and just walk faster looking around for your friend, until he grabs your arm forcing you to look at him.

"Babe, I was calling you, didn't you hear me?", he asks and for a moment you think you're crazy. Didn't he cheat on you? Didn't you break up? Why's he acting like nothing happened?

"What do you want?"

"I missed you", he says, getting closer, giving you puppy eyes and caressing the arm he is holding.

"Don’t pretend like everything is okay." You shake your arm out of his grip. "We broke up, I don’t want to talk to you anymore."

"What did I do that was so wrong?" He asks, His expression void of embarrassment

"What did you do? Are you fucking joking right now?"

"Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?" He asks, pouting. "It meant nothing to me, if you just let me explain-"

'Is he trying to look like the victim while I’m the jealous girlfriend? Doesn't he have a conscience?' You knew this would happen, you knew he would try to talk his way out of this. You take your phone out of your pocket and show him the picture you took of him at the party. His eyes grow wide.

"I’m not going to let you gaslight me into thinking I'm crazy." He tries to take the phone out of your hand but is stopped by a very angry Changbin.

"I see I should have beat you more", he spits, coming in between the two of you. "Get her out of here"

Hyunjin comes over to you, he puts a hand on the small of your back and leads away from the both of them. You're worried about your friend, he could get into trouble if they fight, so you can't help but to take a few glances in their direction until you are too far to see them.

You feel tears running down your face and you can’t seem to stop them. You’re so angry, so hurt. If Eric had only admitted what he did, you wouldn’t hate him so much, but he’s just pretending you’re overreacting and trying to get his way. Everyday you try to push aside the hurt you’re bearing, the feelings of insecurity and anxiety. You have to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong, that he’s the one at fault. You’re afraid of falling in love again, scared of having to go through all of this heartbreak and pain again. Love shouldn’t be like this, love should be light and carefree.

"I can’t believe he showed up when you were alone", Hyunjin says, pulling you out of your worried and anxious thoughts. You look around and notice how far you are from Changbin now.

"I expected it" You say, sighing as you wipe your tears.

"He’s such an asshole, trying to deceive you like that." You scoff, feeling mad. He's not that different.

"Do you think you’re better than him?" You ask and he looks at you, frowning.

"You lead girls on over and over" You continue. You’re trying to hurt him. You want him to feel the hurt that you felt. You know it’s not fair, but it has not been fair to you either. Why do you have to be the only one feeling miserable? He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, sighing before answering.

"I never give false hope to other people", you take a deep breath, you really thought he would lie to you, say he doesn't know what you’re talking about.

"I never accept the confessions of the girls who have feelings for me", he continues, "and the ones I occasionally go out with know I won't date them, it's not my fault that they think they can change me or whatever they choose to take that risk." He sounds hurt, exactly the way you wanted, so why do you feel even worse?

"I don’t see how I’m like him." He finishes, making you feel like your chest is sinking.

"I-"

"We finally found you!" You hear Changbin’s voice and you look towards the sound, he and Chaeryeong look tired, they’re breathing heavily and sweating.

"We searched for you everywhere, why didn’t you answer your messages?", Chaeryeong asks, hugging you.

"I didn’t realize how much time had passed." You say as your eyes stay locked on Hyunjin. He’s avoiding your gaze again just like he did at the party, looking to the floor and making your chest ache even more.

"I’m sorry for worrying you", he says, "I gotta go"

You see him walking away, not glowing so much anymore. You wanted to call his name and apologize, say you shouldn’t have snapped at him like that, but you’re too proud for that. Too proud to apologize to one of the people that came to your rescue when you needed it the most lately. You suck. You really do.

•••

Hyunjin didn’t come around for the next week, your friends even complained about how distant he was. It couldn't be because of your conversation, right? He wouldn't be like that because of something you said. He didn't like you, it doesn't even make sense for him to care about what you say. When the weekend rolls around and you barely see him you feel weird, if you didn't know any better you would think that you're missing him and that wouldn't make sense.

Chan was cooking for the night, your Saturday had been awfully boring, so when he proposed a dinner at his house you accepted right away. His cooking is so good you're salivating with just the smell of onions and garlic. Changbin and Minho are playing Just Dance while Seungmin and I.N. are playing pokémon. Chaeryeong is by your side, complaining about a class you're not into, while Jisung and Felix are helping Chan. The only ones missing are Yeji, who's coming with Ryujin and Hyunjin, that you were informed is not coming.

"Why can't Hyunjinnie come, again?" Changbin asks while waiting for their points to be calculated on the game.

"He said it's school stuff but I bet it's because of a girl", Jisung says and you feel that weird ache in your chest once again.

What does it matter to you if he's with some girl? You not only rejected his request to be friends, you also said some pretty bad things to him. You deserve it if he never looks at you again, you still can't believe you said that to him, just because you were feeling bad doesn't mean you get to treat people that way. You sigh to your own thoughts receiving a suspicious look from Chaeryeong.

"Nah", Minho answers, "he's been hooked on the same chick for quite some time now".

You look at Minho, frowning. You didn't know Hyunjin liked someone. So why was he kissing someone else at the party? Weirdly enough, you swear you saw Minho eyeing you.

****

The moment that Chaeryeong introduced you to them, Hyunjin knew he was done for. Everything about you was appealing to him: the way you smiled talking about the things you liked, how you fixed your hair after the wind messed it up, the way you bonded with all the guys and tried finding things in common with every one of them so that you all would get along.

He couldn't help but stare, your voice was so sweet and your eyes sparkled when you laughed. He tried to be subtle but everytime you joined their group he had the same reaction like a fucking teenager that can't talk to a pretty girl. So when you began acting distant only to him, he felt bad and offended, he didn't think he did anything to make you dislike him. After a while he became distant too so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, eventually you both started doing things to annoy each other. He only started bothering you so that you wouldn't just ignore him, he wanted you to acknowledge him even if it was in a bad way.

Hyunjin never disliked you the way you thought he did, when you started going out with Eric he was absolutely heartbroken but he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

So he put his feelings aside and started going out with other girls, maybe if enough time passed he could like someone else. You didn't see it, but his eyes were always on you. Always looking at you to make sure you were happy. He was right behind you when you found Eric at that party, after you walked away he could see your faltering steps, that's when he saw you fainting and caught you just in time. He told the guys about what happened before carrying you out of the house and taking you to his car, trying to be gentler than he ever was even with his paintings while adjusting you in the front seat.

You frowned even when you were unconscious, he couldn't even imagine how hurt you would be when you woke up. So he waited and waited till your eyes opened and he was relieved to see you were alright. He thought it wouldn't be good to drop the act at that moment, you could think he was pitying you. After you left the car he was sure you would cry your eyes out all alone and he couldn't do anything because the two of you weren’t close. So he urged your friends to message you asking to come by but they already had done that and you had rejected their offers. Of course you did, you like to look tough, someone that doesn't need others, but anyone that knows you a little better sees you're a softie.

When you showed up at the studio while he was painting he couldn't believe you actually came looking for him. He was so surprised to see you that he clumsily dropped the paints he was holding. He was planning to get closer to you, close enough so you would like him and when he knew you were over your shithead ex boyfriend he would go for it. Even if you didn't want to go out with him at first he would keep trying to woo you… Of course, he didn't want to force you to like him, he would wait for you to discover your feelings.

Everything went down the drain when you asked him to kiss you. Every bit of his self control just disappeared and when your lips touched his he was sure that you were it for him, the way just touching your soft lips made him feel like he was on fire, your hands wandering through his hair felt like the death of him. He could feel himself getting hard when the door opened abruptly, you silently left the closet and he fixed his pants so as not to show what was happening there. Hyunjin was embarrassed, if just one of your kisses could make him feel that way he could only imagine what it would feel like to actually have you. He couldn't stay there much longer, it was impossible to look at you without approaching you to get something more. But you weren't even looking at him, if you could just glance at him it would be enough, if you just looked at him he would be satisfied. Your eyes were staring at the floor, you didn't look pleased at all.

Did you regret kissing him? Was it that bad you couldn't even look at him? No one ever complained about that, so he thought he was good. Did he ruin everything?

He got out of the room, Hyunjin just couldn't be there for another second looking at your face full of contempt. He went downstairs looking for one of his friends and found Chan taking shots of tequila with a group of his juniors.

"Hey, wanna join us?" He asks and Hyunjin nods, maybe with one or two drinks he would feel better.

Hyunjin shouldn't have mixed drinks, he couldn't walk straight and his head was spinning. To make things worse he could swear he saw you coming in his direction so he went the other way to avoid you, he was afraid to say something stupid. That's when he found Chaeryeong, he asked her to help him get some water because he was not sure if he would be able to walk to the table where the drinks were. The moment his friend looked away someone grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. He wasn't sure of what was happening or if he was just imagining. He put his hands on the person's shoulder and stepped away feeling dizzy. Minho was close by so he dragged Hyunjin out of the party and gave him some water while he got some fresh air.

"Y/N", Hyunjin was babbling and Minho rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" He looked at his friend seated on the grass with his head between his legs, "Are you still hanging onto your crush on Y/N? Didn't you say that you would give up when she started dating?"

Minho asked those questions but he already knew the truth, his friend had never really stopped liking Y/N.

"Kissed her", Hyunjin grumbles rolling his tongue.

"What? When?"

"During that- that game" Hyunjin trips over his own tongue as he tries to answer.

“Dare…truth.. that one.” He answers, looking over at Minho with glazed eyes.

"And how did it go?" He asks, curious.

"Good, it was so so good I could die"

"Well, if you die you won't be able to kiss her again", Minho jokes seeing drunk Hyunjin pout with tears in his eyes.

"I wan kiss her again though" Minho laughs.

"Of course you do" He sighs bending down and slipping Hyunjin's right arm around his shoulder and lifting him, "Let's go home now so you can think about how to kiss her again"

Hyunjin could barely open his eyes when he woke up the next morning, he was really thirsty and his head felt like it could explode at any minute. However, he had one thing on his mind: Win you at any cost.

So he called all of your friends and asked which classes they picked this semester casually asking if any of your other friends were attending that same class. That's how he found out your schedule and sure, that sounds pretty stalkerish of him, but that's the only way he could get close to you without raising suspicion.

When you told him that he was the same as your ex he wanted earth to swallow him whole, he was so mad at himself for making you feel that way and he was hurt that you thought of him in that way. He couldn't look at you anymore, he was too hurt for that. He avoided you for the next week, afraid to meet your gaze and be faced with indifference or even worse, disgust. He didn't even attend the dinner Chan was doing because he couldn't bear to be in the same room with you. That's until he got drunk enough to make his liver beg for mercy, he couldn't even think straight anymore, so he went on a walk for some fresh air and he walked and walked until he was under a really familiar vertical garden.

•••

You got back from dinner after midnight, you are already in your pajamas ready to go to bed when you hear a "clank" coming from somewhere. You can't figure out the source of it so you ignore it until it happens again, you realize that the sound is coming from the door at the balcony. You get close trying to see what is causing the noise, You look down and notice a couple of rocks on your balcony. ‘Who the hell is throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?’ You open your window ready to curse at the culprit, when you look down you see Hyunjin looking at you with puppy eyes.

"What are you doing?" You ask and he smiles.

"I wanted to see your face" He answers simply.

"What are you talking about? Why would you want to see my face in the middle of the night, Hwang?"

"I like it when you say my surname" He giggles, "And the answer is: because you're beautiful" You blush wanting to die, why are you blushing? This guy is drunk for sure, bothering you in the middle of the night. So if you know that, why are you blushing? And why do you want to smile?

"Now that you got to see my face you can go home" You say, trying to close the window.

"Noooooo", he screams and you are sure he woke up half of the neighborhood. "I WANNA SEE YOUR FACE UP CLOSE"

"Shut up" You look around to make sure there's no one turning on their lights to see what's happening and when you look at him again Hyunjin is climbing the fence where the flowers are tangled in your vertical garden.

"What are you doing?" You whisper yell at him but he ignores you, continuing to climb until he's on your balcony.

You cross your arms in front of your chest looking at him, he's taking deep breaths but looking really proud of himself.

"I could have opened the door for you if you wanted to come up" You say.

"Oh" He says and smiles shyly, "I'm sorry, I wanted to be romantic" You feel your face hot before you can ask what the hell he's talking about. He looks totally disheveled, messy hair, clothes that look like pajamas and glasses he only uses at home or when he's tired and doesn't want to wear his contacts.

"Care to explain why you’re here?" You smell the alcohol on him so you can already guess.

"I already told you, I missed your pretty face", he answers, pouting like a child that has to answer to their mother after doing something wrong.

"No, you said you wanted to see my face and then said I'm beautiful, you didn't say you missed me" You pick at his words trying to think of a way to send him home without your friends knowing about this situation because you know that if they find out you're done for. They're gonna pester you for the rest of your life asking why Hyunjin would come after you while drunk and to be honest that's a question that you would like to know the answer to too.

"Ah, you're so smart, that's why I like you" He says walking and looking around your room.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, maybe having him here while drunk isn't so bad.

"Yesssss, and you're pretty and nice and really funny and good at everything you do", you smile without even realizing, what is this guy doing to you?

"Okay, now you have to go home, alright? I have to sleep"

"Let me sleep with you, I'm really good at it" You choke on the air you inhaled, coughing violently.

"What?"

"Humm, I'm good at being the big spoon and I don't take much space in the bed and you can even sleep on my chest and I'll hug you" He's saying that and has the audacity to blush.

You decide to call the guys that lives with Hyunjin, you're not scared of their questions anymore because you're too afraid you're actually going to accept his proposition. You try Minho, and Changbin but no one's answering. Shit. You look back at Hyunjin and see him lying down on your bed.

"For god's sake, Hyunjin" You try shaking him to wake him up with no success. You sigh, what are you going to do now?

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

All characters in my writing are from my own imagination and don't represent nor reflect in any way the people in real life.

Taglist:

@hhwangsmoon @inara-a

[idy-ll-ique]

IOU.

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x f!reader

genre: angsty angst with happy ending

warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of hospitals, mentions of panic attacks, and also bills. they're scary.

requested: nope

word count: ~4.5k

summary: y/n thinks she owes the ruthless, unforgiving mafia man money. no she does not.

author's note: hiya peeps! till i can muster enough courage to post that part 2... thought i'd post this in the meanwhile. enjoy!

masterlist

-

"New place?"

"Yeah. Really, really, really fucking good coffee. Lady knows what she's doing, for real." Bucky scratched his chin, regarding his friend with his usual cold gaze. "Hm. Fine, I'll try it. For now, go do what I told you to." Bucky sent him off, grabbing his sunglasses off the table. Then he left the room as well and walked out of the mansion, heading to his car. Getting in, he put in the address of the coffee place in his GPS and started the drive there.

But upon reaching, he was immediately greeted by a long line that took up nearly half of the sidewalk. He raised an eyebrow and approached the front of the line. The moment the people in the front saw him, they gasped and moved back, terrified. A loud chatter had already broken out in the crowd as everyone talked about his presence there. Ignoring them all, Bucky opened the door to the coffee place but just as he did, someone grabbed his arm from inside the shop, startling him. It was a woman.

"Sir, the place isn't open yet! You need to wait outside!" she told him sweetly, giving him a smile so precious the mafia boss froze on his spot. "Hey, don't talk to him like that," someone from behind him warned her, "And let go of his arm! Before you get hurt!" Did they really think he would hurt her? Assholes. He watched how her brows furrowed. She let go of his arm, gulping. "Uh, sorry, if you… if I may have overstepped… but we're not open yet! Uh… do you want… to wait inside… maybe?" the lady stammered, glancing at the crowd behind him.

Bucky coolly adjusted his sunglasses. "I don't mind waiting outside. I'll be the first customer." Just as he said it, someone yelled from inside the shop, "Y/N, you can open the door, we're ready!" Bucky unconsciously laughed. Y/N gave him an awkward smile and opened the door, allowing him to follow her to the counter. "So, which coffee would you like to have today?" 

"Black coffee."

"Sugar?"

"No."

"Okay… your name, sir?"

"James."

"James… uh, that will be $7."

Bucky took out a 10 dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to her. She returned his change and gave him another sweet smile. "You may sit, sir, I'll be right with you with your order!" He put the $3 in the tip jar on the counter, making Y/N smile wider. More people walked into the shop as Bucky went to sit. He purposely chose a table that allowed him a clear view of Y/N; instead of looking down at his phone like he always did at places, this time his phone was placed screen-down on the table, his electric blue eyes trained on her. She was taking a couple’s order.

All of a sudden, a different employee called out his name. “Black coffee for James?” the man bellowed, keeping a cup on the counter. When his name was called Y/N and Bucky’s eyes met. She looked away almost immediately, a shy smile on her face as she turned to the next customer. Bucky smiled to himself as well and went to get his coffee. “Uh, man, can I… tell you something?” The mafia boss looked at the guy. “What?” The employee looked at Y/N and chewed his lip. “She’s, uh… she’s—”

“Married? Engaged? Has a boyfriend?”

“No, no, she’s… too naive. Listen, I’m just saying it to warn you, and maybe even her… she’s ridiculously innocent, seriously. I don’t think she has ever had a boyfriend, or even a fling or something. Probably still a, you know, maiden. So… I wouldn’t think you’d want to go for her.” Had he been that obvious? Bucky listened to the man’s nonsense patiently, a cool smile on his face.

“And what, suddenly you know every thought that has ever occurred in my mind? You think you know me enough to tell me about my likes and dislikes?” 

“I’m just saying, bro, me personally—”

“I don’t wanna know.”

With that, he turned around to walk out of the coffee shop. On his way out, he glanced at Y/N again, but she was too busy talking to customers to notice him. He sighed loudly and left. But his sigh caught her attention; she turned to the door but was too late— he was already gone. Her lips pursed. Would he ever visit again? James, he’d said his name was. She had no idea about him, about the fact that he was someone she should steer clear of. Y/N made up her mind; the next time he came to the shop, she was going to talk to him.

-

“You sure you’ll clean up?”

“Yeah. Go.”

“Okay.”

The manager left and Y/N sighed in the empty place, picking up the rag cloth that was hanging on the oven door. But in the quiet store, as she cleaned the counter top, she suddenly heard what sounded like a gunshot. She stood up straight, alert. Her hands were frozen in their place, her ears demanding confirmation. Was it actually a gunshot? When she heard another one, her hair stood on end. Was she going to die?!

Shaking, she rushed to the door and locked it, pulling on it to make sure. Through the glass doors, she looked outside; there was no one there, but she was 100% sure she’d heard gunshots. Her lower lip wobbled. Y/N walked back to the counter and began working at twice the speed; she still had to sweep the floor, and only then could she go home. “Come on, Y/N,” she muttered as she hurriedly finished wiping the countertop. But just as she was about to run to fetch the broom, three consecutive gunshots happened.

Y/N fell to her knees, terrified. This time, she could clearly hear shouting, as well as the screeching of car tyres along with the gunshots. What was going on?! Gang violence?! Scrambling upright, Y/N watched, horrified, as the headlights of a car shone on the glass doors. Oh shit, they’re right outside! Scared beyond words, she rushed towards the backdoors and threw them open. But then they closed with a loud bang, which scared her even more. What if they came inside now?

Her eyes darted around the place and she noticed the broom closet. My only chance. Y/N ran to the broom closet and opened the door, somehow managing to fit inside. Then she closed the door. Pitch black. Y/N took out her phone and dimmed the brightness, her hands clammy. Opening her chat with her manager, she texted him about what was going on. Her heart was pounding in her chest; what if she actually died that night?! 

Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she heard the front door breaking. The sound of glass breaking rang in her ears, and she clutched her head when she got a splitting headache. Y/N was fully panicking by then. More gunshots echoed around the place, this time much closer and much louder than before and Y/N realized that the coffee shop was being used as a place to fight. 

She dared not to make a sound, even going so far as to hold her breath with short intervals in between. 15 minutes would pass before everything went silent; Y/N was very close to passing out now, but she held herself up, waiting until help arrived. After that, she told herself, she could sleep for as long as she wanted. One hand holding her phone, one hand clamped over her mouth, sweat dripping down her whole body, she waited.

When it all went quiet she thought of getting out of the broom closet. But it was as if her legs were rooted on spot, frozen in cement. She couldn’t move an inch of herself. Her eyesight had become poor because of the darkness in the closet, and her headache was steadily bringing her on the verge of fainting. Her ears were buzzing; in the end, she couldn’t even hear the police sirens outside. Slowly, she sank down on her knees and rested her head against the wall behind her, closing her eyes.

“There’s someone else here,” Steve spoke, poking his cheek with his tongue. Bucky looked up from where he was getting a bandage tied on his forearm. “An employee?” Y/N? “Yeah. I mean, the lights were on, and look at this cloth. It’s still wet, and looks like someone was using it. Did they flee the scene or are they still here?” Bucky bit his lip. If it turned out to be Y/N… he was going to burn down the entire world. 

“Go check.”

Steve nodded and opened the doors to the backroom, looking around. There was no one there, but Steve did see another door— the broom closet. Just to be sure, he curiously walked up to the door and opened it. “Fuck!” he involuntarily screamed when Y/N’s unconscious body slumped out of the closet, falling on the floor. “Barnes! The employee is still here!” Steve knelt next to the woman, taking note of the way her phone was clasped in her hand. 

A couple seconds later, Bucky and Sam ran into the room and Bucky froze when he saw Y/N’s body on the floor. And then, every curse word he knew from every language he spoke fell from his lips, rather loudly. Pushing Steve away, Bucky tearfully sat her up, hissing. “Look at her, she’s sweating so much, probably so scared… My poor darling…” He turned to Steve. “Pick her up. I’m taking her home.” Steve and Sam glanced at each other. Even still, Steve did as he was told, picking Y/N up bridal style.

“Sam, call a doctor, pronto.”

Once near their car, Steve opened the door to the backseat and put her in. Sam sat in the passenger seat, talking to a doctor. Bucky sat next to Y/N, allowing her body to rest against his good arm. Steve then got into the driver’s seat and swiftly drove to Bucky’s mansion.

-

Bang. Bang. Bang!

Startled, Y/N gasped in her sleep and jerked. But as she sank down on the mattress, her headache returned and a faint moan escaped past her lips, her brows furrowing. What was going on? There was a mattress underneath her, very soft might she add— was she laying down on a bed? Wait. Was it a hospital bed?! The previous night’s memories replayed in her mind, its load weighing heavier on Y/N’s already feeble mind. 

All of a sudden, the bed dipped on her left, as if someone had just taken a seat. “Y/N?” That was her name. “Mm?” she hummed tiredly, without opening her eyes. “Are you feeling better?” She teared up. “No, I’m scared, I don’t know what’s going on,” she cried, the tears leaking out of her closed eyes as she sobbed, covering her face. Someone’s large hand then went under her head, their other arm around her waist. She was pulled up by the guy and was placed against something; a chest, that man’s chest.

He was holding her. Y/N slumped into him, still crying. Bucky, meanwhile, smiled sadly and held her close, rubbing her back. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re unharmed, I guarantee you— hiding in that closet was a good idea. I’m so proud of you. Come on now, baby…” Y/N’s sobs died down, and she finally opened her eyes. She tried pulling away from him but he wouldn’t let go. “I wanna lay down.” He lowered her immediately, and when he sat back up, Y/N gasped, finally seeing his face.

“James?!” Bucky chuckled, caressing her face under the excuse of wiping off her tears. “It’s me. You scared me shitless, Y/N, do you know how long it has been since you passed out?! 48 hours! I mean, please don’t give an old man a heart attack like that again!” Y/N smiled weakly. “Old? How old are you?”

“3 days old.”

This time, she laughed. “How are you only 3 days old?” Bucky smiled, besotted with her. “Because I met you 3 days ago.” Y/N cutely knitted her brows in confusion, until realization dawned on her. Then she blushed furiously, covering her face. “You are so cheesy!” she accused him, pouting. Bucky couldn’t believe she’d made him fall for her in less than a week. “Just for you,” he winked and she groaned.

In the end, she took a deep breath and pushed the blanket off of herself, seeing that she was still dressed in her 3-day-old clothes. “I stink, don’t I?” she wrinkled her nose, sending a sorry smile towards the brunet man. “I mean, kinda,” he played along, snorting when she, very frailly, smacked his arm. He stood up, taking her hand. He helped her stand up. “You can take a bath over there.”

Bucky pointed to the bathroom door. “I’ll leave some clothes outside for you. Once you’re dressed, just open the bedroom door, and I’ll be waiting right outside, okay?” Y/N nodded obediently. Bucky took her to the bathroom, explained all the functions of the bathtub and kept the towel where she could easily access it. “I’ll go now.” He left the room. Y/N discarded her clothes and sat down in the tub, moaning in pleasure. The water was of the perfect temperature.

She took a lengthy bath, and only stepped out half an hour later, a towel wrapped around her. Y/N put on her own undergarments and then the clothes Bucky had provided for her; a black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats. Once she made sure she was presentable, she moved towards the door but paused when she heard Bucky outside. Her jaw dropped and her hand gripped the doorknob. He was talking to someone outside. “The bill? Ah, yeah, from the hospital. How much was it?” Hospital bill?

Surely that was for… her. She was the one who had been unconscious for 3 days, that meant that a doctor and medicines were required for her. Y/N dreaded the amount— she almost did not want to hear it but she also knew that it would be wrong. How could she let him bear all the expenses for something that was her liability? “$5k? Hm.” Y/N almost fainted for a second time.

“5000 dollars?” she whispered to herself, terrified. But she shook her head, standing up straight. It was her duty to pay him back. Definitely. Taking a deep breath, Y/N opened the door and sent Bucky a smile. He smiled back at her. “Come, have breakfast and then I’ll have someone drop you home.” She wordlessly nodded and followed him downstairs to the dining room. On their way there, Y/N looked around his mansion. It was a piece of art; Bucky was rich? So that meant…

No, no, absolutely not! You have to take responsibility!

They sat at the dining table, breakfast was served and 30 minutes passed. There were a few of his friends eating with them, but Y/N could very quickly make out that they weren’t his friends, more like, they were his subordinates. Working under him. He didn’t say one word to her until the 45 minute mark; then, once all his friends left, he finally looked at her, smiling.

She almost expected him to talk about the hospital bill. “Is it good?” he instead asked, nodding his head towards her plate. Y/N hummed, giving him a small smile. “Y-Yeah, it’s nice.” Breakfast ended. Y/N watched with anticipation as their plates were taken away and Bucky stood up. She followed suit. “I cleared my schedule enough to drop you home, should we leave?” Y/N looked down at her clothes. “Uh, let me just change—” He stopped her. “No, please, don’t wear those stinky clothes again. Carry them with you.” Just then, one of his housekeeping staff entered the dining room holding a bag.

Bucky took the bag and handed it to Y/N. “Here. All your stuff is in here, including your phone.” Y/N peeked into the bag. “I, uh, send me your address so, um, I can return your clothes… I’ll have them washed…” Bucky scoffed, walking around the table to stand in front of her. “Baby, please, stop saying stuff like that. Keep them, it will mean a lot to me. Promise.” Sighing a little, Y/N chuckled. “Fine, I’ll keep them. They are comfortable, you know.” He laughed along.

The two of them walked out of the house. As Bucky drove to her house, Y/N glanced at him. “Um, James, about the… uh…” He glanced at her as well. “Yes, sweetheart? Is something bothering you?” She felt weird asking him about it herself. I’ll just send him the money directly, why have this uncomfortable conversation at all? “Nothing, it’s fine.” Bucky figured something was off but he didn’t push. Soon, they reached Y/N’s apartment building, she bid him farewell and they each went their own ways.

-

“Good morning, sir— James! Hi, you…” Y/N gasped when she saw the man in front of her. He smiled at her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “3 weeks. How are you, sweetheart? All better?” Y/N nodded, blinking. 5000 dollars was a huge amount of money; so far, she had only garnered around $1500. Immediately, she began feeling a little… guilty. His smile didn’t waiver at all, though, so that meant he wasn’t mad at her. Right? What if he was here right now to talk about the money? Y/N gulped, lowering her gaze. “What would you like, sir?” Sir? Bucky’s face dropped. Why was she calling him sir all of a sudden? “Um, are you okay—”

“You’re holding up the line, sir.”

“Black coffee and a blueberry muffin.”

$12.”

He handed her $15 and like he had the previous time, put the extra 3 dollars in the tip jar. When Y/N still avoided his gaze, Bucky was completely sure there was something off. “Can you deliver it to my table instead of calling out my name?” Y/N hummed. “I’ll do that.”

He went to sit in the furthest corner. 10 minutes later, Y/N approached his table and placed his order on the table, turning to leave. But before she could, he grabbed her hand and tugged on it, making her turn towards him. “Mr—” “Absolutely not. James. What’s wrong? What happened? What did I do?” You’re still silent. “I— I need some more time,” she blurted out, “Please, give me, like, another month or so, I beg.” Bucky’s brows furrowed in utter confusion. “Time for what? Honey, time for what?” Y/N angrily glared at him, tears stringing her eyes.

She was never the one to lose her temper so quickly, but to repay Bucky, she had been taking up extra shifts at the coffee shop, which was making her tired and frustrated, and by extension, temperamental. “Just because you’re not asking doesn’t mean— I know you want it back, so don’t play stupid. I’m telling you, another month. Please let go of my hand.” Without even waiting for him, she yanked her arm away and wiped her tears off, storming towards the front of the shop. Bucky was too perplexed to even notice.

Want it back? Want what back? His clothes? Didn’t he already tell her that she could keep them? But then… Why would she require a month to give back a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants? She could have easily done that the next day… It wasn’t his clothes she was talking about. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything else that she owed him. Money was absolutely the last thing on his mind. Sighing despondently, he finished his coffee and muffin and left the shop, without so much as a glance at her.

But Y/N was staring at him as he left. Unconsciously, tears pricked her eyes but she sniffed them away, looking at the customer in front of her. “What would you like?” Her voice was a little watery, which the customer picked up on. “Wasn’t that James Barnes that just left the shop? Don’t tell me he comes after innocent people such as yourself! What did he do to you?!” the customer demanded protectively, which made Y/N confused. If he was excluded from the innocent people category…

“Wh-What do you mean… who is he?”

“Girl, you don’t know James Barnes?! He has been in the news so many times! He’s a mafia man, a mobster boss! Most ruthless, most feared leader of the underworld! How come you don’t know?” What?! “A mafia don?! Are you serious?!” The customer scoffed. “For sure I am! Even the police are scared of him, that’s why he roams the streets freely. To be honest, he only ever goes after the other bad guys, I have never heard him go after, you know, ordinary citizens. But you? What did you do to him?”

“I… I need to pay him back, $5000.” The customer covered his mouth, shocked. “That much?! Girl, do it as fast as you can— is that why he visits the shop frequently? I have seen him a couple times before… wow…” Y/N’s blood ran cold. She owed a mafia leader money. A mafia leader who was known to be ruthless and unforgiving. What if she couldn’t collect enough money? What if he sent one of his friends after her to kill her? After her shift ended, Y/N was once again alone at the shop, cleaning up. But as she sweeped behind the counter, the bell above the door rang, signaling someone’s arrival. 

She looked up and froze when she saw Bucky. “16 hours. For 16 hours I have been thinking about what you owe me, and I haven’t got one clue. Baby, you need to tell me yourself what you think you owe me. Come on. Help me out here.” But as he continued taking steps towards her, she backed herself up against the wall, heart pounding in her chest, fear visible in her eyes. “Please, please don’t— you know— you’re playing dumb!” Bucky froze as well at her look of pure terror.

“Are you scared of me?”

Tears began flowing down her cheeks. “I told you, give me another month, I’ll pay you back, I promise! I have $1500 ready if you’re willing to take installments— but by the end of 30 days I will have the remaining $3500 ready, trust me!” Bucky closed the distance between them. His eyes… showed betrayal. “So… $5k? You’re saying you owe me 5000 fucking dollars?” he whispered. His hands reached up to wipe her tears off, his own starting to fall down his face. “Why do you think that? Have I, even once, asked you about the money myself?”

Slowly, Y/N shook her head. “Then why do you break my heart like this?!” he screamed in her face, startling her. She cried harder. “Because I know now who you are! Surely you want the money back?” He snarled, banging his fist on the wall next to her head. “But why would I want something back from you that you don’t even owe me?! What $5000 are you talking about?!” Y/N sniffled, lowering her gaze. “The hospital bill.” Bucky paused. “Hospital bill? Honey, that wasn’t for you.”

She looked up, confused. “You don’t know what happened that night, do you?” Y/N shook her head again. Bucky sighed, taking a step away from her. “Come with me. Let’s sit.” He took her hand and led them to a table, sitting down. “I… I always assumed you were just passing by and were kind enough to… you know… take care of me.” He wiped his tears off, chuckling. 

Usually, Bucky had a firm handle on his emotions but hearing the woman he loved accuse him of such a heinous thing was enough to make him break down. “No. Now that you know who I really am… that night, the gunfire and the violence that happened involved me, my men, and a rival leader and his men. You were already passed out when the fight ended— I was injured. Look at this.” He shrugged off the right side of his jacket, revealing his forearm that had a faint scar on it.

Y/N gasped softly upon seeing it, her mind filling with worry for his well-being. “Are you okay, now?” He took her hand. “Yes, I’m completely healed. Some of my men got injured as well, and it’s my duty to look after their medical bills as they got injured on my command. It was our hospital bill, sweetheart, not yours. We didn’t call a doctor for you— all you needed was to lay down and wake up comfortably.” Y/N suddenly felt extremely hollow. “I took up extra shifts.”

Bucky came to sit next to her and hugged her close. “You didn’t even think about confirming it with me, first? Angel, when someone owes me money, I make it very clear to them, okay? The fact that I didn’t ask you for a single penny means you don’t owe me shit.” Y/N burrowed closer to him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into his chest. “I just felt… weird bringing it up. I thought I could just directly send the money over once I had enough.” Bucky hummed. “And even if we had reached that stage, I would have just sent the money back. Thank goodness we nipped it in the bud.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N pulled away from him, rubbing her eyes. Then she looked at Bucky, who was looking at her with a fond expression on his face. “What?” she chuckled. But she was completely caught off-guard when Bucky gently held her chin and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. “Even if we had called the doctors for you,” he whispered, “Even if the hospital bill was yours, you wouldn’t have owed me anything. Why? Because the love of my life will never owe me even a single dollar.” Y/N blinked dumbfoundedly. And then, a deep blush graced her face and she squealed, burying herself back in Bucky’s arms.

“James, don’t say that!”

“Bucky, my dear, call me Bucky. And was what I said wrong in any way? Wasn’t it completely true?”

“Yeah but you don’t have to say it out loud!”

“And forgo seeing this cute little blush on your cheeks? Never.”

“Stop it…”

“Nope. My cute little angel can get into as many accidents as she wants and she still wouldn’t owe—”

“I’m gonna go clean up!”

-

a/n: eeeeee screaming!! thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[gamarancianne]

Azriel x reader - In Between part III

Part I, part II

Summary: after the disastrous family dinner, you started to get yourself up again by going on dates with a guy working in your coffee shop. But what happens when, by denying your irresponsible acts, you start to hurt your friend

Warning: angst, toxic guy, denial, so much denial, kinda rude Lucien, mean and rude reader, hurt, smut if you squint, and allusion to slut, anxiety, overthinking, regret, lots of regret. Not proofread, my English.

Note: sorryyyyyy for the angst babes but I promise the next part will be *chef kiss*. Love you all ! Thanks again for the love, the support and above all the understanding of my pause 💗💗💗

Also I wanted to say that i move when you react by reblogging or commenting it makes my days !!!

The ring of the coffee shop you worked in, pulled you out of your well deserved dream. Since you started working again, you sunk again in the meanness and the rudeness of the many customers that came in and almost insulted you ordering their coffee.

What you didn't expect was that it was Feyre, your High Lady who came in. You stilled, back high in your position, your eyes wide open. Her eyes scanned the small and cozy room and brightened when they found your frozen figure. She smiled brightly at you and you felt like you were looking at the sun. She approached the counter and said:

"Hello you !

-High Lady." You bowed your head. She pouted.

"I thought I already told you not to call me that. I'm Feyre to you.

-Right, sorry Hi-Feyre.

- Don't apologize". Her smile returned to her beautiful face. Awkward you asked her:

"So what do you want on the menu.. I have a few favorites if you want advice."

You wondered why did she come in your coffee shop where as there were many that were way more luxurious.

"Oh I didn't want anything, I wanted to see you.

-Me ? But-

- Yes you, I didn't particularly wanted to talk to the wall behind you".

You chuckled at your nervousness.

"I, again, apologize for the mean and completely undeserved behaviour of my sister a few days ago".

The sun of her face was instantly replaced by dense and grey clouds as remembering this bad memory.

"Don't worry really ! It's not your fault, you should not feel guilty about something you haven't done. You haven't been anything but nice and kind to me when I arrived at your private home, kinda inviting the space and the calm of your family.

-No no no ! I feel like you help Lucien a lot, and since he got here it was difficult to talk through what happened to us but I really care about him you know, so I feel delighted to know that someone else does too. And I liked you since I saw you so I wanted to know you!

-It means a lot to me Feyre, really, I liked you too, you're an incredible woman."

She put a hand on her heart, her sea eyes full of emotions and love.

"Well maybe I'll trust you and order something. Get me your favorite!"

You smiled at her and prepared her order, she paid you way more than needed and left after waving goodbye and promising to return to see you maybe with Nyx.

Even serving mean customers, your day had been way better since Feyre came in to say hello. As you were closing the shop, Aaron, the brown haired guy who worked with you was waiting for someone outside. You started walking on the street to your appartment he came to you blushing.

"Hey yn? He asked awkwardly.

-Yes ? You turned to him questioning.

-You know, from a very long time I think you're really kind, and smart and pretty. And I wanted to ask you three weeks ago but you stopped working so it's now or never. I'd really want to go to dinner with you if you'd like.

-Oh my gods that's really kind of you ! Why not ? When do you want to go ?

-Are you free tonight I know a nice restaurant down the street ? He asked relieved from your former response.

-Yes let's go ! I didn't know it before but it seems really nice."

Your walk to the dinner was filled with laughter et joy. It's atmosphere was warm and cozy, just what you needed. You both ate in a comforting silence and he walked you back home.

"I just want to make myself clear. He said hesitantly. Tonight was a date, for me, I like you a lot so..

-Don't worry, it was one for me as well, I've really enjoyed it, it was a nice evening thank you for paying by the way.

-No problem. Then, since we both agree on that, what would you say about another one in 2 or 3 days?

-Yes I would appreciate that ! We'll organise that tomorrow though because I'm really tired now and all I want is to jump under my covers.

-Yeah of course.. yeah see ya !" He kissed you on the corner of your lips and you saw him shrink as walked the down the fairy lit street of Velaris.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The days at work were now so much more joyful and you appreciated it a lot. Your coffee guy and you had been on 4 dates lately and you had one again tonight at the same restaurant. You were disappointed in the fact that you both did exactly the same things as dates but he was nice so you brushed it off. You haven't told anything to Lucien yet, and you could bet that he had guessed because of the suspicious looks he gave you when you would go to work. The bell rang again and Feyre came in for third time in the week. She had been coming with Nyx lately, today was an exception, because he seemed to like you, even to be enamoured with you. That's what Feyre had said. You loved him too, he was so small and so cute with his cheeks burning red everytime you would come up to him and kiss him on the nose or the forehead. You brightly smiled at her but she seemed a bit off today. You frowned a little and when she arrived at the counter you took her and led her to a more private table. You could see she was thankful thanks to her beaming eyes.

"What's happening Fey?"

You had a thing with nicknames, it was your own love language. Everytime you would meet someone new, and that you liked them of course, they would end up with a nickname of yours, even your high lady.

"Well, Rhys and I are really really tired because of the parenthood and we haven't had time for ourselves, I mean our relationship lately. Plus with the tiredness, we argued this morning and said bad things that we didn't mean but nobody apologized for now. And I would've liked if Rhys and I could go to a 3 days maybe 2, vacation at the cabin to rest and enjoy eachother a little...

-Do you want me to babysit Nyx ? You cut her off and she seemed embarrassed to ask you that.

-Well, I know we've been friends just for a short period of time but Nyx only wants you to babysit him, we've tried everyone but he can't seem to stop crying or asking you if you aren't the one to keep an eye on him. I'm really sorry yn.

-Hey Fey, don't worry really. You brushed an arm on her shoulder to ease her tension. I asked because I wanted to offer my help, there's no need to be embarrassed, of course I will stay with this little demon. And you know, even if it's not since a long time, I value and cherish a lot our blooming friendship."

She hugged you tightly and you did as well.

"Also, enjoy Rhys and don't worry you can even go one week if you want. But do you mind if on the morning I come here with Nyx, unfortunately I can't stop work.

-Really ? Oh my gods you really are the bestest friend!! And yes he loves your coffee shop anyway. Are you free to start tonight ?"

You nodded and she hugged you goodbye and stormed off the shop surely to inform Rhys, a big smile on her beautiful face.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The day at the shop had been quite calm and relaxing, on the contrary of usual. You had cancelled your date and he seemed a bit mad, but you understood so you brushed it off. You were walking to the townhouse now, listening to the lovely music of the talented artists of the rainbow. As you walked through the door, Rhys came at you, eyes thankful as ever, and hugged you saying that it meant a lot to him and that you were helping him with his relationship and he was so grateful for that. You reassured him and after discussing with Fey she led you to the little Lord of the night who was playing with a giant figure that seemed way too familiar to you to be at ease, before running into your arms and screaming your name. The figure flinched and stilled before beautiful Hazel eyes sunk into yours and you lost yourself in the beauty of the male sat before you. Azriel. He was there, playing with Nyx and his toys and you were hugging back Nyx, hung on your legs. Feyre quickly hugged you goodbye and vanished away when her and Rhys windowed straight to the cabin. You couldn't move, you were frozen on your feet but Nyx pulled you sat in front of Azriel.

"Let's play with my favorite aunt and uncle !"

He was so oblivious to what was going on between you and Azriel, so innocent. It was kinda cute but you couldn't think of that I that moment.

"He wanted me to stay but not without you, I'm sorry if I make you feel awkward. Azriel explained, eyes filled with genuine apologies.

-Dont worry, he's the little king after all, he gets to decide."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

On the contrary of what you had expected, Azriel, Nyx and you had had a very good week. Azriel and you were really organized: while you were working he would take Nyx out flying and is he had reports or little missions to do you would take the little Lord to the coffee shop and under the hard gaze of your coffee guy, Azriel would come pick you both up. The night you would both play, read and then put Nyx in bed with a kiss. After the conversation was not awkward at all, you discussed a little bit of everything in your life: Azriel had told you the story behind the siphons he had and the Carynthian trial, what a fool you were asking him the first time where you could buy them. And you told Azriel the story behind the library coffee shop you held, the fact that being a girl you weren't given the chance to read and always admired the beautiful books in a library or a bookshop, so you decided to allow people who couldn't afford books to read, especially if they loved it. You talked and talked and laughed, but never ever has the infamous subject been approached. But it was better this way, to move on and everything.

Tonight was the last night with Nyx and after a flying time, a picnic near the Sidra, and a 3 scoops ice scream on the way back home, Nyx was now in his pajamas and ready to go to sleep after a big day of activities. But he wouldn't manage sleeping if you weren't in bed with him pretending to sleep as well.

That's the reason why you found yourself tangled on the couch with Azriel, an almost sleeping Nyx on your lap while the former was reading him a story. Gods that voice of his ! It was so attractive.. how could you move on to that ?? You were almost eye fucking him at this point. But in effort to not make a fool of yourself, you closes your eyes and tried to relax a little. But what you didn't expect was to fall asleep with his voice, which he didn't expect too. He found himself with Nyx and the beautiful female he would like to call his asleep on him. Oh gods he was panicking. He didn't really realise you were asleep on him. YOU WERE SLEEPING ON HIM !!! Azriel was trying to catch his breath to no wake you up but it was difficult knowing that you laid on his chest, holding tightly his shirt, clearly a sleeping beauty. So he relaxed himself as well and fell asleep too.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You felt sunlight peak through your eyes closed but they felt too heavy to open them and wake up. Plus you were so comfortable, it was warm and there was tight arms hugging your waist and chest.

But around 5 minutes later, your mind found consciousness again when you hear little giggles coming from above you. You opened your eyes and saw two pairs of icy and violet eyes looking straight at you, glistening with joy and mischief. You wondered why until yours went wide as you realised the arms and the warm wave from the one and unique Azriel. Rhys bursted out of laughter at your panicked face and Feyre poked and scolded him for wakening Azriel. Because yes, he did. And Nyx woke up too, jumping on his parents still laughing at now two panicked faces. After thanking both of you, Feyre and Rhys seemed to be having their own secret conversation because of the way their eyes went glassy in a matter of seconds. So you jumped on the opportunity to flee, to run away from this damn situation. What have you done ?!

Arriving at your appartment the door was open so you assumed Lucien had stayed in. Coming in you were met with him yelling at you.

"Have you lost your mind ?"

You had never seen him like that and you didn't understand why.

"What ? What's going on Lu?

-Don't Lu me right now, that's not the time ! I've learnt that you were having dates with a guy for 2 weeks now? And besides the fact that you haven't told me anything, which I'm upset for, that damn guy came today. He was fuckibg banging at the door, almost crashing it ! When I opened, we both explained our situation with you, he got mad, started yelling that you were going to fucking pay for the fact that you were avoiding him and seeing another male he saw you with !

-Dont worry Lu, I don't see anyone else, I was just babysittkng Nyx with Az, that's all.

-But I don't care about that! That's not the fucking problem! The damn thing is that this guy is a walking Red flag! He screams toxic a hundred miles away ! And seeing him yelling like a godsdamned animal earlier, it wouldn't surprise me for him to be an abuser! So stop seeing him please !

-What ? No ? You're emphasising Lu, he's not like that I promise, he's kind and nice to me!

-Please yn.. I've seen him.. I dont want you to get hurt."

The whole conversation was starting to upset you. You hadn't slept a lot, had woken up awkward as hell and you hadn't even put a feet in your own appartment that your best friend started screaming at you for a guy he didn't even know.

"Okay Lucien." He stilled, you never called him that usually.

"It's not because your own relationship didn't work that you have to have a word on mine or ruin it for me to still be the pitiful single not-even-bestfriend of yours."

He opened his mouth, ready to talk back but nothing came out of it. You saw the big pained look in his eye and immediately regretted your action.

"Oh my gods Lu, I'm so sorry I didn't me-

-As you said.. don't Lu me right now." He said cold voice starting to walk to the doors.

"NO PLEASE LU!" It was your turn to scream now.

He slammed the door shut, and you cried your whole heart out: you were such an ass. No wonder why Azriel, then Elain and now Lucien had walked away from you. You hurt everything and everyone you loved. Feyre might even be pretending to be your friend. You only felt just an ounce of relief when the cool breeze of a shadow caressed your the back of your neck.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The shadow had stayed the day and helped you with everything. It was comforting really and you needed it. You blamed yourself for what happened with Lucien earlier, really you did and you only thought about that. But you still went to work and met your coffee guy who proposed a date the night for you to make it up for the lost time. That's what he had said with a wink. You had nodded but hadn't said anything, a little hurt by what he said. Maybe Lucien was right after all ? No that couldn't be possible. You couldn't possibly be terrible in every relationship choices you made ? So you agreed and back home before the date, you decided that you would indeed make up for the lost time. You dressed yourself in a long blue dress with your back naked, attached your hair in a stylised bun and put on mascara and red lips. You were really sexy and beautiful. For once you could admit it and call you that.

The dinner went well and on the door, he kissed fervently. At first you were shocked but still answered to the sloppy kiss. He pinned you on your door and after a pressing unlock, he slammed it and carried you to your bed for what you thought to be a sleepless night.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a sleepless night indeed, but not like you thought it would be. He wasn't even food in bed and you had spent the entire night regretting it but fearing of just moving an inch. You had just been staring at the ceiling wondering what had you done again and thinking about the fact that you should have listened to Lucien. Panicking again, in a too short period of time, you sensed again the shadow curling against your neck, as if it was comforting you.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Taglist:

@mirandasidefics @63angel @leeknows-wife @thehighlordishere @annaaaaa88 @starsinyourseyes @oucereeng @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum

Sorry for the tags that didn't work I couldn't find your accounts :/

[ghouljams]

I wish to hear more about Murphy the feed store guy who is apparently getting freaked out by König paying full price

Murphy is like 70 years old and owns the feed store. The store has a name but nobody uses it because the sign is so old and the paint is so worn that everyone just calls it by the owner's name. "Murphy's" easy. The only thing that's really of note about Murphy or the store is that Murphy loves to haggle.

See every item in the store is slapped with a hilariously high price tag, so high that any farmer with half a brain would look at it and go, "Now hold on, that don't look right to me." But this is Murphy's design. Everyone in town knows that if you go to the feed store you gotta be prepared to haggle, gotta be prepared to stick to your guns and not wilt under Murphy's overgrown catapillar brows and eager grin. It's Goose's favorite part of shopping, and the rest of the 141 find out on their first trip to Murphy's what is expected and why.

One man in town has not gotten the memo. One man is trying to be polite and just pay Murphy for his wares. One man is 7 feet tall and stares Murphy down in a way that makes his stomach churn when he tells him he is happy to pay full price.

"You're sure I can't interest you in a discount?" Murphy asks hesitantly. König tips his head forward looking at the neatly notated order list and the prices. He looks back at Murphy, eyes boring holes into him, expression unreadable behind the bandana mask.

"Nein, I am sure you are asking what is fair." Murphy feels his stomach drop, is this guy trying to intimidate him? Is he trying to say something about his pricing practices? Murphy dabs his forehead with a handkerchief.

"You're a loyal customer, a discount would be-" König holds up a hand to stop him.

"You are very kind, but I am sure you need the money more than I do." Jesus christ. Murphy is starting to sweat. Is this guy trying to say the store is in disrepair? That he thinks business is bad?

"Hey buddy, you a fuckin' moron or what?" Moon asks behind König. Murphy sweats more watching König turn to face her. His eyes sweeping high and then tipping his head down to look at her. König's eyes narrow.

"Ah, hello sister." König says pleasantly, Moon stares up at him with all the patience of a woman parked next to a fire hydrant, "I did not know nuns were allowed to swear."

Murphy tries to motion for Moon to absolutely not respond to that. She blows a bubble with her gum and snaps it at König. "I'll say a Hail Mary later," she tells him, "Who are you supposed to be? Zorro?"

Murphy says a quick prayer: please dear God do not let your disciple start another fight in his store, not with this giant man.

"König, and you are?" The giant asks, tipping his head to the side, his fingers twitching too close to his holster for Murphy's liking.

"You like moonshine König?" Moon pulls a flip phone from her pocket, ignoring König's question.

"I do not know what that is."

"Fantastic." Murphy motions again, desperately, for Moon to maybe stop with the sales pitch. Just for his own health. König turns to look at him mid gesture.

"This is very rude," he tells him, mimicking the gestures Murphy had made, "we are trying to have a conversation."

"Of course," Murphy tells him, holding his hands up placatingly, "don't mind me." König nods, Moon raises a brow at Murphy. It's weird seeing him like this, he's usually so commanding. She looks up at König who is waiting patiently for her to continue their conversation.

Oh she is going to upcharge the hell out of this dumbass.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Claimed by your gargoyle boss

General Plot: Your boss is sick of hearing you whine, so he does something about it

Gargoyle boss (Heath) x female reader

Word Count: 1.5k

W: nsfw monster smut, yandere behavior, noncon/dubcon

“Allright, out with it,” Heath grumbled, dropping a stack of books in front of you, “your face is scaring the customers away. I hired you because you’re cute. What’s the problem?” 

You bit your lip and pouted, plucking at a thread on your sweater. He sighed. 

“Do you want a coffee? Will that open you up?” 

You blinked up at him with wet eyes and he rolled his at you, pulling out his phone and ordering your usual from the shop at the other end of the shopping center. 

“Coffee incoming. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” he griped.

“No one can fix it,” you wailed, sniffling, “Jerry broke up with me.”

His pupils narrowed and an odd look crossed his face before he schooled his expression.

“Good, that guy was an idiot,” he said, “I don’t see the issue.” 

You sighed. 

“I thought we were going to get married,” you huffed, “what a waste of time. I’m going to be old and withered before you know it, alone, eaten by neighborhood cats.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you. 

“You will not be alone, teacup,” he assured you, “and consider you are crying over a human named Jerry…isn’t he a barback...at a Chili's? Just think about that...I bet he sleeps on a mattress on the floor, too.” 

You sniffled but chuckled a little. Jerry did sleep on a mattress on the floor. 

“Hey, I’m human too,” you griped, wiping the couple of tears that had snuck over your cheeks away. 

“It works for you, it’s part of your charm,” the handsome gargoyle said, “but Jerry…I’m just sayin’, who even names their kid that? Did they hate him?” 

He tagged some books with a price gun, handing you each one as he finished for you to pile on your opposite side. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you said petulantly, “but even barbacks named Jerry don’t want me.” 

“Why don’t you let me t-”

“Jerry?” 

You glanced up to find the aforementioned ex standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses. 

“(Y/N), I uh…wanted to apologize about before…I just-”

“No. No way. Absolutely not. Get out.” Heath said flatly. 

You looked between him and Jerry. 

“W-what do you mean?” Jerry stammered, clutching his flowers. 

“You aren’t doing this during work hours. Come back when (Y/N) is off the clock. That’s barely an twenty minutes from now.” 

Jerry blanched at the much larger gargoyle and shoved the flowers at you before scurrying away. 

“Was that really necessary?” you pouted, fingering the flowers, “he was trying to apologize.” 

“And you’re just going to take him back?” he growled. 

You stuck your bottom lip out. 

“He was being so nice,” you said. 

Heath looked at the ceiling as if the tiles held answers. 

“Come here,” he said, dropping his price gun and jerking you into the back room. 

He’d barely closed the door when he suddenly started stripping your clothes away, his claws shredding the wool dress you were wearing. 

“Heath!” you squealed, trying to hide yourself. 

He grinned down at you with an edge of cruelty to his smile and grabbed your wrists yanking them above your head. 

“I’m sick of hearing you squall about idiots,” he grumbled, “you obviously need to get fucked by a real man. Don’t act like you don’t want it. I’ve seen the way you look at me.” 

“What?!” you screeched. 

He smirked at you before shoving your shredded panties in your mouth and spinning you around to face the wall. 

“You bend over for these worthless assholes like a bitch in heat,” his deep voice rumbled into your ear as he pressed two thick fingers inside of you and his massive body against your back, “you’re beggin’ me to make you my little slut. How about this? You’re mine now. Nobody touches your pretty pussy but me, problem solved. I'll never leave you wanting, never make you cry.” 

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he stroked your G spot with his large fingers. His thumb circled your clit and you shuddered, whimpering against him. 

“Yghfhg cnng dg tsdgh!” you cried into the impromptu gag he’d created, even as your pussy juices ran down over his hand. 

“What was that, sweet heart? I couldn’t quite hear you,” he jeered, “did you say you want me to stuff your little cunt until you can’t remember that fucker’s name?” 

Tears slid down your cheeks in confusion. On one hand you were turned on, how many times had you’d daydreamed about the handsome gargoyle pushing you against a bookshelf and ravishing you? 

On the other hand, it was so real and overwhelming, your eyes glazed over as you got intoxicated on his scent. He smelled like old books and sweet tobacco from the rolled cigarettes he smoked. You couldn’t do anything but whimper if you wanted to. His strong hand had you pinned to the wall, your back arched so he could cup your ass with the other. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you teacup,” he assured you as you ground your hips into his big hand, “that’s it. Cum for me.” 

You’d never cum on command before, but his arresting voice in your ear had you shuddering and mewling on his fingers. Your eyes crossed with pleasure and he chuckled. 

“You’re such a good, obedient girl,” he murmured and you preened under his praise, “those boys don’t deserve you. Lemme give you what you need.”  

You felt his fingertips retreat, replaced with his smooth cock head prodding your entrance. The thick pads of his fingers made their way to your nipples, taking his time plucking and playing with each one until they were stiff points. To your surprise your feet lifted off of the ground as finally he speared you, shattering every complicated thought you were having to pieces and slamming you into the wall in front of you. 

“Good girl,” he said, his hand clamping on to your hip to maneuver you over his massive shaft, “you don’t need any cock but mine, do you?” 

Heath understood very well the effect an enormous gargoyle phallus had on a tiny human cunt, and it amused him to know your brain was mush as your nerves tried to process the thing impaling you. He could see it in the way your eyes glazed over and you went limp in his arms, unable to do anything but accept what he was going to give you. 

He’d never been one of the fetishists who worshiped tiny human females, but he’d always thought you were incredibly cute and now buried balls deep in your tight pussy he felt…right. Your arousal perfumed the air and he was drunk on your scent. He needed to ruin you for any other male, not that it would matter because he’d never let another male get close to you after that moment. 

The tip of his tail found your clit and he played you like his instrument, bringing you closer and closer to your end. All the while his hips slammed into you over and over again, stretching your cunt to its limit. 

You drooled and cried, still sensitive from your first orgasm. You were too busy sobbing into your panties to notice Heath smirking at Jerry, who’d appeared in the doorway looking for you. Heath didn’t slow down or stop for a second, staring the human right in the eye as he railed you into next week. The only muffled thing that came out of your mouth was Heath's name on repeat.

Cocking his his head to the side he asked the man a silent question of whether or not he liked watching his former girl get fucked by a better man...er...gargoyle. Jerry stared, his mouth open, for a moment, shocked, before he blushed and backed out of the room leaving you to your fate. 

“That’s it, little one,” Heath groaned, high on his victory and your scent, “cum for daddy. Show me what that pussy can do.” 

He curled his wings around the two of you, forming a safe cave for his passion. His encouragement pushed you over the edge, strangling his cock with the muscles in your cunt and flooding your channel with slick. You screamed, squeezing your eyes shut and you came, seeing colors. Wedged in your tight hole he slammed into you one more time before you felt his searing cum paint your womb. 

He held you to him for a moment, his long hair brushing your cheek as you panted together in the darkness of his wingspread. Gingerly, he tugged your panties out of your mouth and spun your around, covering your lips with his. 

“Mphh!” you grunted, surprised as he kissed you, gently, but firmly, staking his claim.  One hand tangled in your hair, while the other stroked your cheek. He pulled back only an inch or so, searching your eyes. 

“I meant what I said,” he growled, “gargoyles don’t do things halfway. You belong to me now.” 

You blinked up at him and nodded slowly.

“O-Okay,” you said. 

He carried you over to a couch in the back room and laid you down. Covering you with a throw blanket, he wrapped you up and arranged you amongst the cushions.

“Nap while I close up the store. I'll bring you your coffee when it gets here and then we'll go to yours to pack your things.” 

“P-pack my things?” you asked. 

He nodded. 

“I said you were mine,” he said as if that were obvious. 

“O-oh. O-okay,” you replied, yawning and sank down into the cushions. 

There was no point in fighting with your nine foot tall gargoyle boss. He was hot and if he wanted to save you from an inevitable end as lonely cat food, you weren’t going to stop him.

If telling yourself he’d fucked you into submission was what you needed to say to yourself to let him have you, then so be it. You closed your eyes and sighed, collapsing against the microfiber couch for a well deserved nap. 

[automaticllamacycle]

I’ll do anything you say ( if you say it with your hands) part two

part one

Summary: it’s the long awaited next date.

Content: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, first time, after care, smut with plot

Word count: 8600

You’re back at work the next day. Penny is already in your ear begging for every single detail of last night.

“You’ve got to tell me more than just that,” Penny sighs, finishing a latte for a customer.

“Did you expect me to give you a play by play of everything?”

“Duh. Of course I did. You have to give me more than ‘Oh, it was good,’ because that is not enough information,” she protests.

“Fine. It was… nice. I helped him make spaghetti for dinner, because he struggled to make it by himself. The man cannot follow a recipe. Then we watched 10 Things I Hate About You and did some other things…” you pause, not telling her any more detail. “And then he walked me home because I forgot to tell my neighbor to let Socks out for me like a dumbass.”

“Expand on what ‘other things’ means.”

“No.” You’re blunt. She isn’t going to convince you to talk, especially not now.

“Come on! Can you least tell me if you guys, you know…” she trails off, a smirk on her face as she pries for more information.

“We didn’t go all the way, no. We are having another date this weekend, but I don’t know what we will do. Matty hasn’t told me the plans yet.”

“I think we both know what the plans are,” she replies, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t think I’ve told you to shut up enough during this conversation.” At this point, you turn your body away from her, hoping she will drop the topic while you make yourself a coffee.

“You know you love me.”

“That’s debatable.”

Matty walks in the shop three days later. The rain is pouring outside down outside, making his curls damp against his forehead.

“Hey, how are you?” you ask him from behind the counter, starting on his drink after ringing him up. His order is second nature now. You could do it in your sleep. 

“I’m good, a bit damp though,” he laughs. To prove his point, Matty runs a hand through his hair, shaking out the water onto the floor. He has on a rain jacket, but no umbrella in hand, obviously the reason he’s completely soaked.

“I can see that. Do you not own an umbrella?”

“I lost the last one I had, haven’t got around to buying a new one, yet.”

“I think you need to get on that. You do live in London you know.” You joke, handing him his coffee. His hand grazes yours as he grabs the cup. Despite the cold rain outside, his hands are warm on yours.

“You got a few minutes to talk? I wanna talk to you about our next date, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, yeah? Sure. I can take my ten.” You walk over to Penny to let her know. Her eyes narrow at you before she looks at Matty, giving him the same expression. He raises his hand in an awkward wave at her scrutiny. “Can you not stare him down like that, Penny?” you ask before walking out from behind the counter to follow Matty to a table. “So, what’s your plan this time? please tell me it doesn’t involve cooking.”

“I, for one, think the food was great.”

“Because I did most of the work,” you correct him.

“No, the plan is not for me to cook again. I’ll work on my skills, and we can try that again another time. Actually, there’s going to be trivia at one of my favorite pubs this Friday. I was thinking we could go to that, and then maybe go back to my place afterwards…” he doesn’t continue his sentence, looking down at his coffee.

“Back to your place, huh? Yeah, I think we can do that,” you chuckle. “I’m excellent at trivia, though. I can get pretty competitive.”

“That makes two of us, love. I can pick you up at 7:00? That way we don’t have to walk to the train.”

“Going to be my chauffeur for the night? That sounds good to me.”

“I have to make up for the disaster dinner somehow.”

You chat with him for the rest of your break. Matty takes up most of the conversation, explaining the new sound he was working on for the band. You listen closely, even though you struggle to keep up with the crazy he ideas he throws at you. Most of the time, you just nod along and smile, hoping he can’t see through you. His eyes always light up when he talks about music. With that look in his eyes, you could listen to him all day. He could be speaking a foreign language for all you care, but you would hang onto every word.

Unfortunately, the ten minutes go by fast, and your break is over. “I gotta go back to making coffee for grumpy people,” you sigh, getting up from your seat. Matty gets up at the same time.

“I’ll see you this Friday,” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. When he lets go, his lips meet yours in a quick peck. The innocent display of affection makes blush run to your cheeks, turning your face cherry red. “Bye, sweetheart,” he says before walking out the door, back out into the rain before you could say another word.

Penny is on you the second you’re behind the counter. You knew she had to have been watching you both like a hawk the second you sat down.

“So… you’re at the kissing-in-public stage now? Wonder what that means you get up to in private.”

“Penny, oh my God, it was just a peck calm down.” The heat still burns at your cheeks.

“Just saying!”

Friday comes along fast. Knowing the date would be at a pub, you decide to wear something simple. You put on an oversized white button up and tuck the shirt into a pair of black slacks. After looking in the mirror, your hands undo a few of the top buttons, letting a bit of the black bralette you’re wearing show. At exactly 7:00pm, you hear a knock at your door. “Well, you are right on time,” you say after opening the door. He’s wearing a pair of jeans with a band tee, with a warm trench coat over top.

“I’m known for being punctual.” His gaze drifts down from your eyes to the open buttons of your shirt. You take the opportunity to tease him a bit.

“My eyes are up here, you know.” You tease. “Let me grab my coat really quick and we can head out.”

“I was just looking at your… necklace, it’s really pretty,” he counters.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what you were doing.”

“Well, you can’t wear a top like that and expect me not to look, darling. You look lovely by the way. Let me help you with your coat.”  Like a true gentleman, he slides the coat over your arms before the two of you walk out the door. Once you make it outside, he opens the passenger side door, letting you get inside.

The ride to the bar is short. Matty has on the car radio on a low volume while you exchange conversation back and forth. He makes a bit too much eye contact for your comfort, but it’s hard for him to keep his eyes on the road when he can look at you instead.

“Matty, you need to watch the damn road! You’re going to hit something at this rate.”

“Just admiring the pretty girl in my passenger seat. I can’t help it, love.” There’s a smile on his face as he reaches for your hand. His eyes dart back to the road, but his hand holds yours, resting on top of your thigh. The size of his hand engulfs your own; the warmth from his fingertips sinking into your skin. It stays there, encasing your hand until you arrive at the pub. His hand grabs back of your headrest while he backs up into a parking spot, looking over his shoulder.  “What drink you want?” Matty asks when you make it to the bar.

“I think I’m feeling a vodka cran tonight.”

“I was expecting something a little bit more adventurous from you.”

“Let me enjoy my vodka cranberry in peace. What are you going to get, a glass of wine?” You’re halfway joking, but he proves you right with his next sentence.

“Yeah, actually. I would get the bottle, but I don’t want to get too wasted anyway. Want to remember every second of tonight.” A smirk runs across Matty’s face as he turns to the bartender to tell him the drink order.

After the bartender makes your drink and pours Matty’s glass of wine, Matty leads you over to one of the open tables, guiding you with a hand at the small of your back. The heat from his hand radiates through you, especially when his hands travel up your back to take off your jacket. He places it on the back of your chair then does the same with his own coat.

“Okay, so what’s the prize for winning trivia? There’s gotta be something or there wouldn’t be this many people here,” you ask, gesturing to the room full of people as you settle into your seat.

“Cash prize is a two-hundred dollars, plus a free drink, but I don’t think we have a shot at winning to be honest. Some of these people are real pros and come every week.”

“Maybe we should make our own wager then. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins a reward.”

“Oh, sounds like you got something in mind. What kind of reward are we talking about?” Matty asks.

“I bet you could probably guess if you tried.”

“I’m sure I could, but I thought we talked about you using your words on our last date.”

“Fuck off,” you exclaim, cheeks flushed. You take a quick sip of your drink. The alcohol couldn’t set in fast enough.

“How about this, winner gets to do whatever they want to do first tonight when we get to my place.” His voice is low as he speaks, like he doesn’t want anyone to overhear him. “Does that work for you, darling? Good enough of a wager?”

You gulp. Voice caught in your throat. He isn’t easing into this. “Uhm, yeah. That works.” You struggle to meet his gaze. His brown eyes look through you, reading you like a book right in front of him. “Going to tell me what you’re thinking of doing first?” you ask.

“That’ll ruin the surprise,” he chuckles. Before you have a chance to counter his statement, the host of the trivia announces himself with the microphone. He’s quick to explain the rules. Players can work in teams, or by themselves. Players have to write their answers in pen on the answer sheet in front of them before the answers are reveled. And of course, the person or team with the most correct answers wins the cash prize.

“Ready to lose, babe?” Matty says, confidently. Only a hint of humor in his words.

“Strong words for a man who never finished his GCSEs.” You counter.

“Trivia isn’t all about book smarts.” The announcer formally begins the trivia night, and Matty practically eats his words at the first question.

“Alright everyone, hopefully you remember the basic solar system. For our first question, what is the smallest planet?”

You write down you’re answer quickly, and flip the answer sheet over, not trusting Matty to keep his eyes on his own paper. “We are starting off easy tonight. I got this one in the bag,” you declare.

“Calm down, darling; I think everyone knows this one,” he smiles as he writes down his answer, turning his sheet over as well. After one minute, the host announces the answer, which is Mercury. The exact answer you wrote down. Matty did not have as good of luck, though. “The fuck? I could have sworn it was Pluto.” He protests.

“Matty, Pluto isn’t a planet. It hasn’t been for over a decade now. I’m guessing you didn’t finish your science GCSE?” you poke fun at him. Matty shoots a look right back at you while you take another sip of your drink. Your academic knowledge doesn’t help you for the next question.

“Throwing it back a little bit here with this next question. Who was everyone’s first friend on the MySpace?” the host says. Without much thought, you jot down a name on the piece of paper, knowing you had no chance of getting the right answer. When the host says the answer after about a minute, you put a sarcastic expression of defeat on your face and sigh.

Matty, on the other hand, smiles happily across the table. “What? You didn’t know about Tom from MySpace?”

“Never had a MySpace,” you laugh. “Facebook was the rage when I was in school.”

Trivia night continues and the competition between you and Matty only heats up. It goes back and forth for most of the night. He gets an answer right, then you don’t, and vice versa. Or, you both answer wrong. You finish your first vodka cranberry during a brief break in the trivia, so you start to excuse yourself from the table to get another drink. Matty stops you. His hand catches your wrist when you stand up.

“I’m cutting you off, love. Don’t want you to get drunk. I have a lot of plans for later.” Although there is a smile on his face and lightheartedness in his voice, you can’t ignore the look in his eyes. They practically devour you.

You decide to mess with him a bit. “Feeling a little bossy, are we? I can handle my liquor you know.”

“Not taking any chances and look,” he gestures to his wine glass, still on his first one. “I’m limiting myself, too.”

“What a proper gentleman you are tonight,” you reply as you sit back down. He keeps your hand in his, enjoying the touch of your skin.

Matty does way better at the trivia than you expected. He nails every question that has to do with music, pop culture, and especially football. For the most part, you’re able to answer the other question categories.

After the final question, you both tally up your scores. There’s no shot either of you won against the another teams, so you don’t even bother to turn in the score sheets.

“Well, love, let’s see who won the competition, shall we?” He reaches over to grab your answer sheet, comparing it to his. “I think you have met your match. I beat you by a whole ten points.”

“No fucking way!” you exclaim, grabbing the papers from his hand. A strong laugh leaves his throat at your reaction. “There’s no way I lost by that much.”

“Look with your own eyes, then.” The paper backs him up; he completely blew you out of the park.

“I think this was a set up.”

“I told you I’ve been to a few of these before. Those GCSEs not help you much?”

“I guess not,” you laugh. “So, what’s your little plan then? Since you won and all.” Your heart rate up at the thought of his plans. The pulse loud in your ears.

“Let’s just go to the car, yeah?” Matty stands up, putting on his own coat and helping with yours. He leaves a cash tip on the bar for the bartender, then guides you out of the bar back to his car.

The tension in the car is thick. His hand rests on the inside of your tight. It’s only slightly above your knee, but the touch of his fingers gives you goose bumps. The car ride, feels like hours as you both sit in silence. He doesn’t answer when you ask him what he is planning. Matty just smiles and looks at the road, telling you to be patient.

However, patience isn’t easy when you know what is going to happen next. When you know that tonight is the night. Every time his hand squeezes your thigh a fire shoots through your body.

When he finally gets to his flat and parks the car, it takes everything in you to not leap out of your seat. Instead, you wait for him to come around and open your door, like he he’s been doing all night long. On the elevator ride up to his apartment, you expect him to touch you. For him to kiss you and put his hands on you. But, he still doesn’t. As you enter his flat, you think he’ll finally kiss you, or do anything really.

“Why don’t you take a seat on the couch. Do you want a cup of tea?” Matty says nonchalantly while he walks to the kitchen, setting up some quiet music on a blue tooth speaker. You roll your eyes at him, sighing. He continues though. “I’m going to make myself a cup regardless. Sure you don’t want one?”

“Okay, fine.” You hear him start the kettle before returning to the living room. Although, he doesn’t sit on the couch next to you. Matty walks over to a set of drawers by his TV, grabbing something. It’s only when he sits down on a stool across from the couch that you make what he has in his hands, a deck of cards. He pulls them out and begins shuffling the deck on the coffee.

“What on earth are you doing?” you ask. To say you’re confused is an understatement.

“Shuffling a deck of cards. Can’t you tell?”

“I’m not blind, Matty. Why are you shuffling a deck of cards?”

“Because we are going to play gin rummy.” He finishes shuffling the deck as the kettle goes off, so he goes to the kitchen and pours two cups of tea. Matty hands you a cup before sitting back down on the stool.

“Did I misread something? Why are we going to play a card game?”

“Because. I won the trivia night, and we agreed that whoever won got to decide what we do first. I am choosing to play gin rummy.” The look on his face is comical. His big brown eyes crinkle as he smiles right back at you, like he wasn’t teasing you.

You don’t think you can wait any longer. You want him now. No, you need him now.

“Matty, will you just touch me already?” There’s a needy whine in your voice that you can’t control. “Please?” His jaw clenches at your words. He’s holding himself back.

“It’s all about building tension, darling. It’s more rewarding if you wait a little bit.” He doesn’t stop there, continuing to tease after a brief pause. “Going to be a good girl and be patient for me?”

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, hiding your face in your hands. Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating your face up. A heavy blush falls over your entire face.

“Now, do you know how to play? Or do I need to walk you through that too?” he smirks, setting the deck of cards face down on the table.

“I know how to play. Are we doing first to one hundred points wins?” he nods his head, and you both draw a card from the deck. His card wins so he deals out the cards. “Does the winner get a reward this time?” You wanted to know if you were getting yourself into another competition with him.

“I think the reward is the same no matter who wins,” he chuckles but doesn’t elaborate as his stare into yours. It doesn’t take long before they trail down to your chest again. You both go silent as the game begins. You and Matty take turns to draw cards and discard others, attempting to be the first to have only sets of melds in their hand. The tension could be cut with a knife. His gaze is heavy on you as he tries to read your face and guess what you’re going to do next. You nearly have gin before Matty suddenly knocks his cards on the table, ending the round.

“Can’t handle the pressure?” you ask as you display your hands. It’s obvious once your cards are down that your hand is better than his, which gives you 25 points, plus the value of his unmatched cards, 33 total points.

“Well, fuck. That wasn’t a good choice,” he laughs as he shuffles the cards again. “Am I about to find out that you’re a secret prodigy at gin rummy or something?”

“It’s all a game of luck, Matty. But yeah, you just so happened to pick the card game I’m quite good at playing.”

“Give me a run for my money then.” Matty insists.

“I didn’t think we were playing for money.”

“We aren’t.”

The next round goes by quickly. Once again you enter the same dance as last time, however this time you manage to reach gin before he has the chance to knock out. He groans loudly when you call out, revealing his horrible hand.

“Shit, that’s rough. With how many unmatched cards you have, if my math is right… that should be 55 points!”

“God, maybe this was a bad idea.”

“You started it, Matty. Don’t start a fight you can’t finish.”

“Watch it, love.” His eyes darken.

Your winning streak runs out on the next round, he gets gin before you do. He’s awfully proud now, even though he’s only won once. You keep cool as he shuffles for the next round, one more win and it’s in the bag for you. As you get closer and closer to calling gin, Matty makes the same mistake as he did in the first round, choosing to knock out. He knows that if you reach gin, it will be over, so he takes a risk. The cards land in your favor, though, your hand having less unmatched pairs than his.

“I think that means that I win, Matty. Do I get a reward now for being so patient?”

He walks over to you and sits on the couch right beside you. He still doesn’t move though, taking a second to look over you. God, you are so beautiful to him. He could spend all day just looking at you. You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your hands in his hair and pulling his mouth to yours. The sudden action surprise him a bit. A subtle groan escapes his lips as he catches up with your movements. It’s heated and needy. His mouth moves against yours in a fervor as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip. You happily let him into your mouth, and a whine leaves your lips. His mouth swallows up the sound. Electricity runs through you as his hands touch your body. First, they meet the sides of your face, tugging you in closer by your jaw. Next, one of his hands trails back until his fingers intertwine in your hair. He’s not gentle with it, tugging harshly on your locks to draw another moan out of your mouth. With his other hand he grips your waist, urging you to straddle his hips. In an instant, you grind against him. Your hips move sloppily, but all you can think about is the release he gave you last week. You want his hands on you again.

“Matty, please,” you beg after separating from his mouth. His hands still hold your hips firmly to the bulge growing in his jeans. Brown eyes stare back into you, completely blown out. Your eyes drift down to his lips, which are now swollen and glistening. They’re begging to be kissed again, to be pressed up against your own.

“What do you need, baby?” His fingers dig into your hips. You pray they’ll leave a bruise for you to admire tomorrow. His eyes search for any sign of hesitation on your part.

“I need you to touch me again.” There’s a nervous break in your voice. Although you want this more than anything, the anxiety begins to seep through.

His hand detaches from your waist to hold your jaw. You feel the rough calluses on his thumb as he rubs your cheek gently. It’s taking everything in you not to drown in those kind, brown eyes. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He seals the promise with a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?” Matty guides you to stand up, taking your hand as he leads you to the bedroom. His hand is warm, grounding you and keeping you steady. Rough compared to your own, but still so gently when he holds you. Your hand trembles a bit in his grasp, and you know he can feel it, too. He squeezes your hand, trying to offer you comfort however he can. Once you’re in his room, Matty’s hands rest tentatively on your waist. “Are you comfortable, love? You can back out any time you want to, just say the word.” His voice is serious as he talks. Completely genuine. It doesn’t matter how much he wants this. He would never do anything against your wishes.

“Just a little bit nervous.” You break away from his gaze, looking down at the ground before your next sentence. “But I want this. I want it to be you.”

“Can we get started with what your reward is?” He has a cheeky smile on his face as he tilts your chin so you’re forced to meet his eyes.

“What might that be?” Your voice unintentionally comes out in a whisper. Matty leans down. His lips brush against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine when he speaks again.

“I want to taste you. That okay?” His voice is gravelly, sending heat between your legs.

You start to nod, but quickly remember Matty wants a verbal response. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl. Going to make you feel so good.” His lips move against your neck, sucking at the skin. The feeling of his tongue against your pulse sends electricity through your body, making your hair stand up on end. He breaks for a moment, taking his time to unbutton the front of your shirt to reveal the lacy bralette underneath. “I’ve been wanting to see this all night,” Matty whispers while his hand squeezes your breast through the bra. “Wearing this just to tease me. Such a naughty thing.” A choked sound leaves your throat as he begins to suck at the revealed skin. His teeth scrape against a certain spot on your collarbone, making you jolt.

“I didn’t know having just a few buttons undone would have you this worked up,” you tell him.

He looks up at you. The brown ring around his eye small in comparison to the size of his pupils.

“You always get me worked up. Could be wearing a garbage bag for all I care.” His eyes dart back to your chest. Eager to see more of your skin, to mark up every inch of your body. “Can I take it off? Want to see you.”

“Yeah,” you whine. Skilled hands pull the bralette over your head, leaving your chest bare to him. Matty’s mouth falls open at the sight of you.

“Fuck. God, you’re gorgeous, love. So fucking beautiful.” An unabashed moan leaves your lips as his mouth takes in your nipple. His tongue swirls around the bud, before his teeth graze it, once again making you tremble. He pays your other breast the same attention, tongue scalding against your skin.

Matty stands back up to full height, towering over you. “Sit on the edge of the bed for me, yeah?” His voice is commanding, but his eyes haven’t lost any of their kindness. You listen, stepping backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed behind you. Matty’s gaze sets you ablaze as you sit down, slightly spreading your legs. Snapping out of his trance, he quickly removes off his t-shirt, revealing his toned chest. He’s panting, struggling to catch his breath. With his eyes locked to yours, Matty takes a few careful steps forward before falling to his knees. His tongue wets his lips as he looks up at you. Matty’s hands linger on your knees, trailing up your thighs. His fingers avoid touching your center, finally resting on the waist band of your pants. His tongue traces where your pants meet your waist. The sight is erotic. He’s already worked up, straining against his jeans.

“Lift your hips for me.” Matty whispers. Your hips raise for him, and he slowly drags the fabric of your pants down your legs. His hands are rough on your knees as he pulls your knees farther apart, leaving enough space for him to rest between them. His warm, swollen lips touch the skin of your thigh, leaving kisses all the way up. When he reaches your inner thigh, you jump as he adds teeth, determined to mark up the skin. He wants to be able to see the marks later. A physical sign that you’re his. Your skin muffles the chuckle that leaves his throat at your reaction. The slowness movements torturous. “Matty, please. I need you.”

“I know you do. Can see how wet you are, darling.” He runs a finger over the wet spot forming on your underwear. Matty mouths over the fabric, saturating it further. He nuzzles at your clit through it.

“Fuck.” You cry, craving the feeling of his tongue on you.

“Let me take these off then if you’re so needy.” He discards the fabric and takes no time to run a broad stroke along your center, collecting your wetness on his tongue. The feeling instantly makes you scream. You’ve never felt anything like it before. The sensation much different than his fingers. His tongue movements are precise, circling your bud. Your hands wrap in his hair, fighting the urge to grind into his face. He breaks free from your grip for only a moment to tease you.

“I knew you’d taste sweet. I could stay between your legs all night long.” When his mouth goes back to your cunt, he traces over your entrance, not fully pushing his tongue inside.

“Matty—” you croak. Your hands pull hard on his curls, making him groan at the pain. It seems the pain only spurs him on, though. He moans into your cunt while he fucks his tongue into your entrance roughly, holding your hips still as you squirm. With every movement of his tongue, his nose nudges against your clit. His arms flex as he holds your hips down, trying to keep you still. You put up one hell of a fight. Hips jolting in his arms.

He moves back to your clit, alternating between lapping over the bud with quick, delicate strokes and sucking at the bud. Whines leave your throat as you struggle to catch your breath. Matty’s tongue is relentless, building heat up in your stomach. He grabs your legs quickly, throwing them over his shoulders so he can hook his arms underneath your thighs. His strong arms hold your center to his mouth, not letting you pull away from his tongue.

You gasp at the new fervor he has against your cunt. He’s licking your center like you’re his final meal, completely burying himself in your cunt. Ecstasy overwhelms you head to toe. Your hips rut against his face, chasing pleasure. The grip in his hair is the only thing grounding you right now, pulling tight. The fire is building by the minute as he quickly circles your clit. “Matty, I’m close please,” you whine. Your thighs clasp around his head, holding him there. Matty’s fingers dig further into your thighs in retaliation. He sends you to release the second he delivers one final, harsh suck on your clit. The euphoria overwhelms you. Cries of Matty’s name leave you in broken sobs. Your hips jolt against his face at the shocks of your orgasm. The world is hazy around you. The only thing you can feel is his tongue continuing to work against you through your high, wet and hot against your clit.

When your thighs unclench around his head, Matty beams at you with a dumb smile on his face, completely blissed out that you came on his face. “How was that, sweetheart?” His voice is cocky. Matty turns his head back to your inner thighs to leave soft kisses on the bruises forming on the skin. You forget to answer him, wrapped up in the way he looks between your thighs. A wet sheen is still all over his mouth, lips swollen and red. His hair is wild from your hands pulling at it, standing up in all directions. He nips your thigh again to get your attention. “Well?” his eyes brows raise while he waits for your answer.

“It was good.” You really didn’t know how else to put it. His tongue made you see stars. Matty raises off his knees to hover over you on the bed, standing between your thighs. He kisses you recklessly before he speaks again. The taste of you lingers on his lips.

“Just good? That’s all you have to say?”

“I already miss when your tongue was occupied.” You joke.

“Oh, I can go again if you want? Meant it when I said I could stay down there for hours.”

“Please. I need you, Matty.”

“You have me, darling.” He knows exactly what you want, but he wants you to ask for it. The sight of him standing in front of you, still mostly dressed, makes you more aware of how bare you are. His eyes devour you, still waiting for a verbal response. At first, Matty stares at your lips, still swollen and puffy. His eyes shift down your neck and chest, admiring the way the marks from his mouth clash with your skin. Out of instinct, he goes to palm himself through his jeans, groaning at the pressure and wishing it was your own hand.

It doesn’t take long before you give in and tell him exactly what you want. “Fuck me. Please.” Your voice is desperate. You want him more than anything. You need him more than anything.

Instead of teasing you further, Matty’s eyes soften as he steps forward to hold your face in his hands. His thumb traces over your lips, delicate and tender. “Alright, baby. I’ll be gentle. Promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you, Matty.” He smiles before he kisses you again. At first, it’s soft and sweet, but it becomes frantic. One of his hands leaves your face to hastily undo his belt, and his jeans are off the next second. His hand grabs your hand, pressing your palm to his hard length covered by his boxers. A loud groan breaks free from his lips as he separates from your mouth. “Do you feel how hard you make me? That’s only for you. Can you lay back on the bed for me?” You listen quickly, shifting up on the bed. Your eyes linger over large bulge in his boxers. The fabric is strained and wet with precum.

Nerves course through your veins at the thought of his cock inside of you, stretching you out. You’re on fire, practically leaping out of your skin. Only his touch can calm the burn. His hands move to pull down his boxers, releasing his cock. Beside the bed, he opens the nightstand, grabbing a condom and holding it in his hands.

“Um,” you interrupt before he opens the package. “I’m on the pill so you don’t have to use one if you don’t want to.” You’ve waited so long for this moment. You want all of him, and nothing less.

Matty struggles to hold himself together. It’s obvious you don’t know how much that sentence fuels him. The thought of being the first one inside of you already makes him ache. The added lack of separation only increases his desire for you. He refuses to pressure you, though. “You sure?”

“I want to feel you.” Your legs part, letting him see the sheen dripping down your thighs.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he pants.

The world around you slows down as Matty climbs on top of you. All that matters is you and him. His hands rest beside either side of your head, holding himself over your body. The gentleness still in his eyes from earlier. Those kind eyes calm you down instantly. He lets his body lay down fully on you, connecting you skin to skin. When the head of his cock lines up with your entrance, you gasp.

“You ready?”

“Please,” you whisper.

With your confirmation, Matty slowly pushes into you, stretching you out. A breathless groan leaves his throat from the feeling of you so warm and wet around his cock. His hands squeeze at your waist. The rough calluses on his fingertips dig into the skin, steadying himself as he sinks into your cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut. Although he’s going slow in fear of hurting you, the ache from his cock makes a whine leave your mouth.

The pain is welcomed, though. You’ve never felt so close to someone. Never felt so full. As he goes deeper and deeper, you feel yourself stretch around him, allowing him to fill the places deep inside you. The places that you never knew you needed him.

Matty peppers kisses on your cheeks and neck, desperate to comfort you when he sees the expression on your face. “You’re doing so good baby. Feel so fucking good. Almost there.” His voice is strained, like he’s barely holding himself together, falling apart at the seams. Your hands clutch his back, gripping into his skin. He will have some bruises of his own tomorrow to look at.

When he finally bottoms out, he lets out a loud moan. His hands on your hips tighten, grounding him as he stills deep inside of you. He checks on you quickly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He searches your eyes for discomfort, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good. He wants this to be perfect. His chest heaves, trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I just…” You take a deep breath, the feeling of his cock filling you up is indescribable. A mix of pain and pleasure. “Just need a minute,” you sigh. The longer he’s inside you, the more the pain fades away. Your body begins to welcome his, almost like it was made for him all along.

“As long as you need. Just tell me when to move.” His voice is calm and caring, not rushing you at all. Matty remains still, cock twitching as you tense around him. He fills the time by kissing your neck. His teeth are completely out of the picture this time. Instead, his lips and tongue delicately smooth over your skin, lingering over the marks he gave you earlier.

When you finally feel ready, you thread one of your hands through his hair while the other digs into his back. “You can move,” you gasp.

“Alright, darling. Tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll stop.” He kisses your lips before he rests his forehead against your own. His eyes are locked with yours while he carefully begins to move inside of you. He’s holding back. Soft groans leave his open mouth. Matty struggles to keep his eyes open as pleasure overwhelms him.

It doesn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would. Both of your hands grip his shoulders. Before you realize you’re doing it, your nails sink into his skin, scratching down his back. “Fuck—” he cries out, not exactly in pain, though. As he continues to thrust inside you, bliss starts to replace the ache inside of you. Your body molds around him. Small whimpers leave your mouth, electricity building in your gut. You need more. Now.

“Matty. Faster. Please.” You cry out. Your legs wrap around his waist, needing him to be even closer to you. You don’t have to tell him twice. He speeds up his movements. His cock grinds in and out of you rapidly, hitting the spot deep inside of you. Your back arches in response. The sensation is overwhelming, running through you all the way to your fingertips. Matty’s fingers, hell, even his tongue is nothing in comparison to his cock. All of those years waiting for a guy were worth it. You have him. You have Matty, and that’s all you need. He fits perfectly inside of you, stretching you like he is made for you.

“Shit. Such a good girl for me. You’re so beautiful, fuck.” His words are breathless. Sweat builds at his brow, falling down the side of his face.

The eye contact melts you into a puddle. It’s intimate. Raw. His forehead still rests on yours. He wants to see you, to see every expression your beautiful face makes. “Kiss me, please. Need you to kiss me.” You beg, needing to feel his lips again. His mouth collides with yours recklessly. It’s messy, but it’s perfect. Matty bites at your lip, letting his tongue sooth over it. You moan into his mouth as his hips snap into you, bringing you closer to the peak of pleasure.

Matty knows you need more from the way you’re squeezing his cock. You’re almost there. One of his hands releases your hip. At first, his hand stops at your lower stomach, pressing down firmly.

“Feel that? Feel my cock in your stomach?” he asks with a broken groan. You shutter at the pressure of his hand.

“Fuck, Matt—” you cry out into his mouth. He moans, cock twitching inside of you when you pulse around him. His hand only stays on your stomach for a moment, traveling down to circle your clit carefully, not wanting to over stimulate you. There would be a chance for that another day. You whimper when his fingers touch you. The heat in your stomach builds rapidly. You are about to snap.

Matty is in no better shape. His hips lose their precision, and he’s trembling from pleasure. He’s doing everything to hold himself together. Moans leaving his lips in rapid successions. Nothing has ever felt more right to him than being inside of you. Your face, your body, and the sounds you make drive him closer to release. When your eyes meet his, completely blown out and in pleasure, he can’t stop the words that leave his mouth.

“I love you.” The phrase leaves his mouth in a groan, like he’s been holding himself back from saying it. It’s true though. His words aren’t a heat of the moment expression. His head falls into your neck, hiding his face from your gaze while he speeds up his hips once again, igniting you from the inside out. You gasp at his words, crying in pleasure as you get closer to your orgasm. You entangle your hands in his hair, pulling his head from your neck so his mouth connects with yours. You kiss him with more passion than you ever have before. It’s a clashing of teeth and tongues. Hot and needy. You hope the kiss makes it clear just how deeply you care about him. You need to tell him though, to use your words like he would want you to. Your hands in his hair pull him back harshly, separating your lips. “I love you too.” Your voice is thin and weak, almost unlike yourself. In an instant, a wide grin breaks across his face. It’s perfect. The moment is perfect.

His hand speeds up on your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. You’re on the edge of the cliff about to fall off. You try to tell him. “Matty I— Shit, I’m—” Your words fail you, breaking out into helpless whimpers as you hold onto him tighter. Your hands move to his back holding him close. You’ve definitely broken skin by now, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“I know, baby—” He stutters in the middle of his sentence when you pulse around him; he’s nearly about to break. “Come for me. I’m right there.” Those words send you over the edge. You come around him while he rests his forehead on yours, continuing to move through your orgasm as he chases his own release. The rest of the world melts away. Pleasure shocks through you, pulsing through your veins. You’re completely overwhelmed with the feeling of him, gasping his name over and over again. Pure bliss and euphoria wash over you.

Seeing you completely in pleasure underneath him, and hearing you cry out his name so desperately is what sends him over the edge. “Fuck—” he groans. He thrusts a few more times before he completely falls apart, spilling inside of you. His warm cum fills you up deep inside. “God, fucking love you so much,” he gasps, voice nearly unintelligible. You watch as his mouth falls open above you as he loses himself inside of you. You’ve never seen him so lost in pleasure. Words of praise continue to fall from his lips throughout his orgasm before he finally collapses on top of you.

You both lay in silence for a moment, holding each other close while you try to catch your breath. You feel fuzzy, still trembling from the release. Your hands rub at his back, attempting to sooth the nail marks. Matty is the first to say something, worried that you’re shaking from something else entirely.

“Did I hurt you?” Panic paints his face when he meets your eyes.

“No, no. Not at all.” You assure him quickly with your hand on his cheek. “That was perfect. You were perfect.” His lips meet yours again, kissing you softly. When the kiss ends, you are suddenly aware he is still inside of you. “Okay so… what do we do now?” you ask, utterly clueless. They didn’t go over this part in sex ed. He chuckles at your statement, not in a mocking way, though, rather just at the innocence of the question.

“I’m going to take care of you now, sweetheart. Going to pull out, okay?” You nod in response. You wince as he moves out of you, feeling entirely empty without him. “Let me get a washcloth to clean you up. I’ll be right back.”

He returns from the adjoined bathroom quickly with a warm washcloth in hand. His hand meets your knee, indicating for you to part your legs for him. He stares for a moment, hesitating with the washcloth.

 When you feel his cum drip out of your cunt, you realize what he is staring at so intensely.

“Are you looking at something interesting?” you tease with a raised eyebrow. He snaps out of it at your words, meeting your eyes again. A light blush appears on his face, growing redder by the second.

“Sorry. I lost myself for a second there.” Matty begins to wipe you off. His hands are delicate and gentle as he presses the warm rag to your center, careful around the sensitive skin.

“No need to apologize. Just didn’t think you would be so into that,” you continue, playing with fire.

His eyes cut back to yours. A shade darker than before. “I just cleaned you off. Are you trying to get me to fill you up again? Because I will. Gladly.” There’s a slight joking tone to his words, but you know his claim is serious. Dead serious.

“I’m already too sore for that.” You smile back at him, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks.

“I think I know of something to help.” His hands wrap around your waist, lifting you off the bed and carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down gently on the counter, discarding the washcloth in the sink. He walks over to the large bathtub and begins running the water.

“Running a bath? How romantic.”

“Consider it an early apology for how sore you’ll be in the morning, love.”

When the bath is full, he stands you up before he settles down in the bath first. He winces as his back meets the water, stinging in the marks from your nails.

“I’m sorry about that… I’ll be more careful next time,” you say as you step in the tub, sitting directly in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it. I liked it,” he replies. Matty doesn’t waste a second to wrap his arms around you, letting you fully lean back on him. The hot bath water sooths every ache in your body. His hands run over you, massaging your skin. They rub over your arms, and then your stomach. There’s nothing sexually charged about his movements. He’s simply tracing your soft skin, clueless of how he got so lucky to have you in his arms. The water and his touch nearly lull you to sleep before he speaks again.

“Can I wash your hair for you?”

“It’s not two-in-one, is it?”

“Do you think the curls on my head would be intact if I used two-in-one?” he laughs. “Scoot forward a bit and lay back for me.” He lets your hair fully submerge in the water before applying shampoo to your scalp. His fingertips massage your scalp, and you find yourself humming peacefully at the sensation. After washing the shampoo out, he repeats the same process with conditioner. Just when you think he’s about done, Matty grabs a loofah from the side of the tub lathering it with his body soap. Smells of bergamot fill your nose as he rubs the loofa over your body.

“Want me to smell like you, huh?”

“That’s just a bonus of taking proper care of you.” He takes his time to rinse the soap off of you. You’re completely clean. “Come on, let’s get you dried off.” Matty wipes away the water on your body with a clean towel, drying himself off quickly with another one next. He guides you to sit on a chair in the bathroom. “Be right back.” He says, walking back into the bedroom. Matty returns wearing a new pair of boxers, holding a t-shirt and another fresh pair of boxers in his hand. He helps you get dressed, pulling the boxers over your hips before putting your shirt on.

“Going to dry your hair now. Don’t want you falling asleep with wet hair.” He takes out a hairdryer from underneath the sink and begins to dry your hair. He runs his fingers through your scalp as he maneuvers your hair to make sure it’s all dry. Matty is focused on the task, biting his lip in concentration.

“Do you do this every time? Or are you just trying to impress me?” you ask after he turns off the hair dryer.

“I’ll do it every time if you want. I’ll do anything you say, love.”

Matty carries you back to bed, getting under the covers right after you. You lay your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat rings strongly in your ear. His arms wrap around you. You’ve never felt safer than with him.

“I really do love you, Matty. Never felt like this before,” you admit, pressing soft kiss to his neck.

“I love you, too. I’m so fucking glad I walked into that coffee shop.”

[aclowntiny]

Business Booster- Wooyoung x Shy!Female!Barista Reader

Word Count: 2,379 | Coffee Shop, Fluff | Warnings: none~

This is my second café-centered story! It makes a slight reference to the one I did for Yeosang, but they aren't really connected/in order, I just thought it would be fun hehe just like making a small reference to one of my favorite webtoons!

“Hey, Jongho,” Wooyoung addressed his roommate, attempting to convince the maknae of his eight-man group to get out of the house with him, “have you tried Shot in the Dark yet?”

“That’s the new place, right? Not yet. Why?”

Shot in the Dark was a new café only a block off KQ. A convenient enough place to supply someone as enthusiastic about caffeine as Wooyoung, sure, but he could take or leave the coffee over the, shall he say, ambience.

The longer-haired man sat up on his bed, a hint of a smirk rising to his lips out of his casual smile. “Well, they’ve got a business booster,” he replied, using a piece of lingo he’d coined a year or so back.

Jongho knew the game. In his mind, he wasn’t quite as superficial as his next-to-youngest friend- at least not in the sense of wanting to drop everything because supposedly a cute girl worked at the shop.

Wooyoung, however, was not deterred by this, leaning forward & crossing his legs with a faint creak of bed springs. “And the best part? She’s shy.”

~

The young performer was feeling some espresso when he pushed open the heavy-looking dark metal accented door.

The bell rang right as he looked up, his eyes landing on you. One of the cutest girls he’d ever seen just casually standing there behind a coffee counter when Wooyoung thought her face should be all over the place.

But then again, if your face was all over, he’d likely not have a shot with you. Gift horses and all.

“H- hello,” you stuttered, glancing down even as you waved with a wide but sheepish smile.

Cute. “Well hello there! I’m surprised you guys aren’t busier,” Wooyoung commented with a wink.

“What do you mean?” Oh my gosh, you didn’t even get it! Could you be more adorable? More fun?

Either way, he’d put on some charm without flustering you too much more- didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, after all. He almost frowned at the mere thought.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve just been wanting to try this place ever since it opened up, and I’m glad I’m here!”

“Oh, well good!” You brightened, parted lips of confusion turning back into that shy smile. “Was there something in particular you wanted to try?"

"An Americano, please. I heard you guys do really well with strong drinks. Hence the name, right?"

"Right," you agreed quietly, gaze drifting down to the cup you held in your hand, pen at the ready, "and what was your name?"

"Wooyoung." He leaned a bit closer to you on the counter, smiling to himself at the way you looked a bit flustered. "You'll remember that, right?"

"Oh, er, yes. Of course!"

He smiled brightly, glancing quickly at your name tag. "I'll remember yours, too, (y/n)!"

He paid, sat down at one of the industrial-style tables to scroll through bubble for a bit, and before he knew it you were standing before him, glancing at the floor and politely announcing that his coffee was ready.

"This isn't what I ordered."

Your face fell as you bowed in apology. "It's not? I'm so sorry, let me get you another right awa-"

"I'm kidding. It looks perfect."

"I hope you love it."

"I know I will."

Wooyoung learned then and there your giggle was as adorable as your other mannerisms.

And with that, you parted ways, your latest customer vowing to become a regular and wondering how many people had done the same when a beauty like you greeted them. He shook his head, taking a sip of the- wow, truly perfect- espresso drink you'd given him. Either way, management knew what they were doing putting you out there.

~

"She's shy?" Jongho asked, amusement crossing his face. "And you took that personally, huh?"

"It's so cute watching her get flustered. But she's really so kind and polite, too, and-"

Ateez's maknae arched a brow. "You do everything you do on stage and yet you want me for moral support?"

"No," Wooyoung shrugged, "just an excuse."

"If you don't want the guys to be suspicious, they won't be. We know you'll never give up on coffee. I'll go with you, though. This'll be funny to watch. Or if not I can save her."

"Hey!"

~

"We meet again," Wooyoung commented the moment he and Jongho enter Shot in the Dark, eyes falling upon you. He glanced at his dongsaeng, not-so-subtly asking Jongho if he was right about you or if he was right. Jongho just chuckled, Wooyoung and him never having the same type, which was part of why the next-youngest member wanted him to be the one to accompany him. If he brought, say, San, he might have trouble, and quite simply put he wanted you all to himself.

"Hi," you replied shyly, nodding the guys' way as you carried a pair of steaming mugs over to the young couple seated in the corner.

"You remembered my name, right?" Running a hand through his wavy black hair, Wooyoung leaned on the counter again.

He caught the way you froze, eyes briefly, worriedly glazing over. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit, lips parting before you spoke. Finally, very quietly, you inquired "Yu- Yuyeon?"

"You don't remember? How could you, (y/n)? I came back here just to see you!" Placing a hand over his heart, Wooyoung gave you a hard time, though it did actually make his chest drop a little. Maybe he didn't have as much of a shot as he thought. Maybe you liked quiet guys. If Yeosang hadn't found his barista already, maybe you'd have preferred him.

"I'm sorry!" You hid your face in your hands, head dropping a bit in apology. "I think I just got it mixed up with a character from the webtoon I've been enjoying!"

"Oh, do I look like a webtoon character?"

You started to peek out from your hands. "Well, not him, but you two do look like you could be in one," you answered with a smile.

"And, hey, don't feel bad, (y/n)," Wooyoung comforted you, teasing tone fading into a softer one, "you were close. It sort of rhymes. That just means I need to come in more, huh?"

"Yes, of course!" You brightened. "Um...oh! Wooyoung!"

"You got it!"

"Yay!" You clapped your hands, smiling fully now, completely uncovered. The way your hair moved with your little bounce, the way your lips parted widely, all of it made Wooyoung want to grab you, dip you down, and kiss you. But hey, he could start with ordering a coffee.

"Can I try a café latte today?"

"Of course. Can- can I ask you a question?"

"Absolutely," Wooyoung encouraged.

"Do any of the pastries we have look good to you?" You asked, motioning to the simple glass case containing coffee shop classics like croissants, buns, and danishes, but a few unique-looking desserts neither Wooyoung nor Jongho recognized by sight.

"Sure they do! Those things with the pink and yellow frosting are really pretty!" He had flashbacks to Yeosang's café adventures. "Do you make them?"

"No," you shook your head, a proud smile falling across your face, "my coworker Jiwoo makes a lot of the traditional pastries, and some of the other international treats like the pan dulce you mentioned are made by Veronica, our baker who is originally from Mexico."

"I like the yellow ones," Jongho said.

"I like the pink," Wooyoung said.

Jongho ordered, deciding to see what the new trend of protein coffee was, and you took his order, repeating his name as if not to make the same mistake that you had with Wooyoung. They paid, and as you took their cups back you glanced away from them, pulling out a bag and grabbing a pink concha and two napkins to slide into it. You handed it out to the guys, and of course Wooyoung accepted it.

"Here," you told him, unable to meet his eyes, "for- for forgetting your name. It's on the house. Please enjoy it."

They both thanked you, making their way to a center table. Wooyoung swatted Jongho out of the seat that faced you, taking it so he could watch you work, chin resting in his hand as he unabashedly stared. You looked over at one point and he winked, sending you practically flying across the kitchen to the other side out of his view. He chuckled deeply.

"We're never going to see you at the dorms anymore, are we?" Jongho asked, shaking his head with an exasperated smile.

"Definitely not now," Wooyoung joked back, opening the white paper bag you'd given them to reveal the concha, which he pointed down at, grinning and loudly whispering "pink" with a proud smirk.

~

"I'm back!" spreading his arms wide, Wooyoung walked into Shot in the Dark with a grin, not caring at the weird look your coworker- Veronica, it looked like, judging by the tray of conchas she was holding- gave him.

"Wooyoung!" You blurted out the moment you saw him, causing him to giggle. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just remembered this time and-"

"It's alright. I like hearing you say my name," the performer told you, voice lowering a bit and cheshire cat grin widening at the way you very suddenly had to turn around to borrow something from your coworker, who gave you a head pat through her gloves.

"The pastry thingie was really good, by the way," he told Veronica, who smiled and asked if he was back for more.

"I mean, I wouldn't say no, but I'm not exactly here for the food, you know?" A wink.

Giggling, you just asked if he wanted more espresso as Veronica started prepping her icing, shaking her head as she was clearly far more onto it than you were. That or you just wanted him to make all the moves himself. Well, fine by Wooyoung.

"You know me so well, (y/n)."

~

This particular Shot in the Dark visit, he'd elected to run to the restroom in the back quickly while you made his drink. He missed being able to shamelessly stare at you while you brewed his coffee, but, well, nature calls. He finished up, sparing a bit of extra time to pat down his hair and pop another button of his shirt in the mirror, then strode back out.

As soon as he rounded the corner, he collided into something, or rather someone. Eyes widening, he saw you stumble, mug sloshing onto your shirt. Your light grey shirt. Which now bore a large, unfortunate brown stain. But who cared about a random grey shirt?

"Oh my gosh, are you ok? Was that really hot?" Wooyoung saw a towel hanging from your apron, carefully extricating it without messing up your outfit or seeming untoward, and handed it to you, extending a hand to the one that wasn't dabbing yourself off.

"Warm, but luckily we don't make our drinks scalding."

"I am so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and now I've ruined your shirt!"

"It's alright, this is just a plain one I bought at a cheap store for work. N-nothing sentimental, you know?"

"But still I feel bad," he said, looking into your eyes, which darted into his and back down to your messy clothing, his gaze never wavering, "all this mess just because I was too excited to see you again."

"Y-you're sweet," you commented as he pulled you up, gaze averted from your joined hands.

"Well, if you think so, I'd better keep it up then, huh?" Wooyoung replied, untucking his shirt and beginning to unbutton it all the way.

You immediately started, eyes widening as you swiveled around, turning your back to him and missing the fond smile that fell across his face. He took his shirt all the way off, buttoning the leather jacket he was wearing all the way up to the chest.

"Here, look, you can turn around again."

He knew you didn't think he saw, but your glance as you turned around was not directed at his eyes, despite the swivel. He grinned, extending the hand that now held his button-up out to you.

"I can't take your shirt," you all but whispered, flushing as he draped it around your shoulders.

"Sure you can. You can't walk around with a big wet stain showing all day, not that you don't still look beautiful."

Your eyes widened again, but you smiled as you slipped off your apron, tucking in and buttoning his shirt over your ruined one. "Thank you," you said simply, softly, sincerely, "I'll get this back to you, when...well, when..."

"When we have dinner tomorrow night?" Wooyoung asked hopefully, shooting you a playful side eye.

Those lovely lips of yours fell into an 'o'. "R-really?"

Wooyoung's eyes slid across your face, flicked down to his shirt on your body, one of the best things his eyes had ever seen, frankly. "You really still think people come here for the coffee, don't you?" He teased.

"It's a café," you shot back with a sheepish smile, daring to meet his eyes fully.

What can he say? He loved it. "A café with the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous barista who makes you forget all about how expensive their coffee is, because wow, she could sell me a cup of hot water for twice that price-"

"Stop!" You playfully swatted him, the sleeve of his shirt falling just a tad bit long on you, its soft fabric lightly caressing his jacket as your soft blow fell.

Wooyoung, of course, pretended to fall like you'd decked him. "I never lie, (y/n)."

"Well," you weren't sure what to say, "I will see you tomorrow."

"Great," he lit up, starting to make his way back out into Shot in the Dark before pausing, "well, actually, I did lie about one thing."

You frowned. "What?"

"I'd actually love it if you kept the shirt," he replied with a devilish wink before spinning on his heels, heading back out into the café with one final glance back to your blushing form fiddling with the hem of your newly-gifted button-up.

Jongho was right- who needed to spend all that time cooped up in the Ateez dorms?

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Coffee Shop

G/N. Ah the coffee shop!AU trope. Or alternatively, Goo owns a coffee shop on the side. Either way, you work with Goo in a coffee shop.

The coffee shop you work at is famous for two things.

One - the quality of the coffee. Apparently the owner is something of a snob and only sources and serves the best.

Two - the shocking customer service, courtesy of your coworker, Goo Kim. You don't know how he gets away with it. You don't know how he is still employed.

Maybe it's because no matter how long the queue is, once they get to Goo, all frustration dissipates as soon as he says, "What can I do for you, babe?"

Or it could be that even though he messes up orders, he has the gall to say: "You'll like it better that way, trust me sweetheart." Worst of all, it works.

Actually, you do know how he gets away with it.

Correction, the coffee shop you work at is famous for three things: the best coffee, the worst customer service and the hottest barista known to man.

Goo Kim is hot. Period. The kind of hot that draws customers. That makes them return time and time again even as he gives them the wrong drink and overcharges them. That lets him get away with his shitty attitude and cocky behaviour.

That's just how hot he is.

.

.

"The owner is kind of a tyrant." At least, that's what Goo tells you as you've never met the owner before. "And me and him are kind of tight," he says, waltzing into his shift exactly two hours and thirty seven minutes late.

You know this because you've been keeping an eye on the clock in between serving the horde of tired, irate customers during the morning rush on your own.

You would happily bet you're now more tired and more irate than all the previous customers combined.

"I don't give a shit," you snap, rushing past him to complete the next order as he casually puts on his apron. Fuck, did they ask for oat or soy? Damnit. 

"Language," he sing-songs, plucking the finished drink out of your hand and calling out for the customer to collect.

"Medium latte, two shots caramel, oat milk!"

It's entirely unnecessary. The morning rush is largely over and there's only one customer waiting. She approaches Goo looking annoyed.

"I asked for soy milk."

"Sweetheart," he says, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. What should really be demeaning and patronising comes out all filthy and seductive, "It tastes better like this."

You watch in disbelief as her irritation evaporates and she honest to god giggles, taking the drink and handing over a hefty tip.

Goo pockets the money.

"Hey! That's mine!" You square up to him. He comes in late, does nothing, then practically steals from you?

"You got the order wrong. She would be throwing a fit if it wasn't for me." It's less chastising you and more a chance to inflate his ego. Still, you begrudgingly admit he's correct.

.

.

It's only been a month working together, technically less than twenty shifts, and already you're sick of the guy.

Goo was the one that interviewed you. Both crammed into what you assume is the owner's office. Even for such a small space, it's well decorated.

Maybe well decorated is a reach. But everything in there screams expensive. Designer logos everywhere that even you, with your lack of knowledge, can tell is worth more than your entire, pitiful, savings.

The blonde sits opposite, knees knocking into yours when he crosses his long legs.

He explains that he works here. "Just a lowly ordinary barista," he says with a laugh, as if he's letting you in on a joke. Except he's dressed in a fancy blue suit and you wonder what sort of barista wears a suit to work and also gets paid that much.

He tells you, perhaps as a way of small talk, that the chair you're sitting on is imported from Barcelona. Ok. You don't care. It's not like you'll ever import one yourself.

Instead you launch straight into your spiel. The one where you make all your work and personal achievements seem bigger and better than it is. Embellishments. Harmless enhancements you've memorised from your resume.

The more you talk, the higher Goo's eyebrows recede into his hairline.

"And I increased the footfall by 113% last December-"

"Are you nervous?" He cuts you off. You wonder what sort of question that is, is it part of the interview, is it a test. You settle for answering honestly.

"Kinda," you say, giving him a lopsided grin, "I'm being interviewed."

Goo takes a moment to consider this, then- "What do you think of my hair?"

Your mouth runs before your brain can, "Your roots are coming through."

The moment you leave the coffee shop, bell jingling above the door, your phone rings from an unknown number.

"You're hired," A voice tells you, and you know it's Goo Kim. You can even hear the pout in his voice. "The owner likes you."

"Thank you!" You're practically vibrating with glee, you thought for sure you messed up your chances.

That was, coincidentally, the last time you were happy to hear from Goo.

.

.

"You'll get coffee on my white suit!" Your belligerent, infuriating coworker snips at you and you want to smack him.

"I'm not the idiot wearing a white suit to work in a coffee shop." You snarl back, then drown out the sound of his whines with the frother.

You watch the milk temperature climb in time with your own temper.

"Don’t be mad," his voice drifts into your ear and you jolt at the proximity. Turning around, you find his face inches from yours, lips pulled down and big brown eyes peering straight into yours.

He doesn't look like his usual smug self here. He looks silly and maybe- the teeniest bit cute.

Ugh, you shake those thoughts from your head. However, a part of you thinks you should be a bit more amenable with him. You're still new and it's obvious that he pulls some strings around here.

"It's fine," you mutter, rolling your eyes to high heavens and returning back to the task at hand.

.

.

"What are you doing?" you blink at Goo flipping the sign from Open to Closed a full four hours early.

"Shoo! Out!" He shouts at the practically full store, motioning at them all to leave. "We! Are! Closed!"

Angry grumbles fill the air as the patrons start to shift.

"This is unacceptable!" A guy still gripping onto his full cup of coffee rounds on Goo. You wonder if he's gonna throw it at him. It wouldn't be undeserved.

"Sorry babe, personal emergency. You know how it is," Goo smiles, toothy and affable, "I'll make it up to you next time." He grabs the mug out of the other man's hands and he doesn't even react. "Come back soon!"

The customer leaves without further argument. You think you catch him mumbling sure and see you soon. You know beyond a shadow of a doubt as you catch the guy blushing, he will be back to catch a glimpse of the blonde barista and hear Goo call him babe again.

Goo wheels around a TV that you think must be at least 85 inches. You didn't think the shop had anywhere to store something so big. He must have pulled it out of his ass.

"What is this?"

"Season finale time," he tuts at you, as if you're the one being an idiot for not following this absurd chain of events.

"What?"

Goo mentions a name that you think could be a show, or it could be a new coffee bean, you're not sure. He ignores your confusion, positioning the TV in front of one of the many sofas and fiddles with the remote.

"Are we really doing this?" You ask as he flops down with a bowl of popcorn (and where did that also come from), giving you a grin and patting the space next to him.

"You're getting paid, aren't you?"

You can't argue with that and take your seat.

.

.

You don't really know what's going on, but the animation is good enough and the character dynamics are fun so you keep watching.

You keep watching even once your shift has officially finished and it turns dark outside. Eyes glued to the screen, you cheer when one of the characters dies, gasp when another one also dies, then clap your hands once the credit rolls.

"That was good-"

Sounds of sniffling cut off your next words and you turn to look at Goo. Both his hands clutching white knuckled to the now empty bowl of popcorn.

It's kind of jarring seeing him like this. Your coworker who pisses you off more often than not. You didn't even realise he's capable of any emotion that wasn’t meant to spike your blood pressure. It's… sweet. A change from his usual bravado.

You reach over and swipe with gentle fingers at the tears under his glasses and he gives you a watery smile in return.

"Yeah, I felt sad when they died too," you offer and you see his lip wobble.

"IT WAS SO FUCKING SAD!" He wails, throwing his head back and bowl clattering to the floor. "I can't believe they did that," His emotions take a turn, face scrunching up in anger as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, "I'm going to send the writer death threats."

You hear tap tap tap followed by unhinged cackling.

You never understood the kind of person that would send death threats but you take one look at the maniac typing next to you, fingers a blur across the keyboard, and you realise this completely tracks.

.

.

If possible, your coworker becomes more annoying after that.

He's taken to neglecting the majority of his duties, and instead mostly watches you work.

"Help me out," you plead, spirit broken as he barely lifts a finger to help with the lunch rush.

"Ah ah! I'm supervising."

You consider strangling him.

He does, however, prevent you from slipping on spilled coffee after you miscalculate your footing.

Happening too quickly for you to form any thoughts apart from 'fuck’, you tilt backwards, head ready to hit the ground with a loud, sickening crack.

Which would have definitely happened if not for the large hands gripping you around the waist, yanking you upright and then tugging your body into his.

It's something out of a cheesy romcom and you want the earth to swallow you up. Although if you were wanting anything, you would prefer the earth to swallow Goo up instead.

"Careful there, sweetheart," You feel his chest vibrating with quiet mirth. Somewhere behind you, you distinctly hear a group of customers swoon.

.

.

"Do you think I'm hot?" he asks. Entirely inappropriate because you're in the middle of serving a customer.

"No," you grit out because you will not be entertaining this manchild. It doesn't matter if you're technically lying.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Really really?"

"Yep," You release a pent up breath and address the customer, "And that'll be 7000 won please," 

He swipes his card, then eyes darting to Goo and trying his luck, "I think you're hot. If you wanted to grab a drink or-"

"Maybe next time, sweetheart," Goo directs a smile at him and you can feel the man practically melt. Ugh. Seriously?

He pours the contents of his wallet into the tip jar.

.

.

"We would make a cute couple," Goo leans across the counter, watching you wipe down tables. "You should date me."

Did he just...? Your hand briefly pauses as you consider his words, then resume the circular cleaning motions. It’s no longer as easy as it was seconds ago.  

"And you should help me out instead right now," is all you could muster. 

"No can do, sweetheart." He inspects his nails, "The cleaning products aren't good for the skin." Then he adds for good measure, "You shouldn't be cleaning either."

You stare down at the cloth gripped in your bare hand and consider throwing it at him. Date him? No. Your fantasy right now consists of the sound the wet rag makes when it hits his face.

.

.

Goo is in earlier than you.

Goo is in earlier than you, and he's working and he's cleaning and you think it's a dream.

"Morning cupcake!" He tells you in a chirpy voice with a sunny smile that is far too bright for this time in the morning.

It truly is a testament to what a slacker he is. You're so used to him being late or not doing anything, that now he is doing really the bare minimum, it short circuits your brain.

"I’m making your day easier," he explains, "So you'll date me."

You boggle at him. "You're doing this to date me? And not because you should just be doing your goddamn job? Are you serious?" Your tone rises with each word and you think you sound hysterical but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Yep, nope, yep."

He starts whistling and you want to tear your hair out.

.

.

"Can I get your number?" A particularly brave patron asks.

"Sorry babe, my partner is just over there." He jerks over to you with his thumb and your jaw drops open. "They're beautiful, right?"

Goo sounds sincere and you don't know what to do with that. You know for a fact right now you don't look beautiful. You look kind of a hot mess. You can't remember the last time you washed your hair, and it's currently resembling something of a nest from all the rushing around. Your face is likely bright red and you have coffee and milk stains down your front.

The patron looks incredulously at you. And Excuse me?! Rude. But you also can't blame them.

You think Goo needs stronger glasses.

.

.

"Can I get your number?" An unwitting customer asks you this time and you tell him no, sorry, not interested.

"Come on," He leans across the counter, into your space and you take a step back. It's not fun or silly or anything like when Goo asks. It's predatory and you feel your hairs stand on end.

"No. Please just pay for your coffee or leave."

"Why are you being so uptight-"

"Hey," The blonde materialises next to you. He's smiling. He always is. This time it's wild and feral and dangerous.

The smile never leaves his face as he tells the other guy to get the fuck out and that he's permanently banned.

For a moment you think one of them might start throwing hands. Actually. Despite Goo's fancy tailored suit and his meticulously groomed hair and expensive aura, you know he would be the first one to lunge. You also know with complete certainty he would win.

The clean up might be a mess though, for the other guy.

It luckily never comes to that as the man mutters something under his breath and scarpers out with his tail tucked between his legs.

You hope to never see him again.

A part of you is angry. Rightfully so. That it takes someone else for your no to be heard loud and clear. A small part of you thinks of Goo's smile and oh. It’s pretty hot.

.

.

"Sorry about that," Goo approaches you on your break and you wonder who is actually minding the shop right now.

"It's fine." You tell him. It's not, but it's not Goo's fault either.

"Do I make you uncomfortable when I ask you out?" His words aren't playful and you know he's asking because he wants to know.

You think about all the times he's been all slippery with his honeyed words and to your mounting realisation and horror, you find you actually like it. If he's being honest, so will you.

"No."

Your answer seems to surprise him. "You're fine with me asking you out all the time?"

"Sure."

"Huh." Then he grins again, similar to before and you feel your knees wobble. You can't believe you are feeling things for this smarmy idiot dressed in an overpriced ridiculous suit.

You think he's going to wreck you. You think he knows it too.

.

.

"Go out with me?" Goo sidles up to you despite the fact you're in the middle of ringing up an entire office load of coffees.

"Not right now," you grunt at him, distracted and trying to get the order straight.

"Later?" he asks because for the first time it's a maybe, a possibly. Hope tinges the single word. You don't need to look at him to know he is beaming.

Your movements stutter. You sort of regret your words but you also don't.

"Later," you tell him and it's a promise. Goo smiles, eyes fond and crinkling at the corners as he sends a finger heart your way.

[whohasthecards]

Top Gun Coffee Shop plus other stuff AU Idea (Part 1)

Jake moves to California to start a new life and starts working as a barista in a coffee shop.

The shop owners are Iceman and Maverick, who runs it with their son, Rooster, who manages the books and a lot of the behind the scenes stuff. Phoenix is the general manager, and Bob is the other barista/event coordinator.

The coffee shop is a front for the real business of them participating in information brokerage, middle man, forgery, smuggling, and other underworld business.

There are a series of different interesting customers that come in, and the staff are surprised that Jake just rolls with it. They're confused on how stuff doesn't faze him, they think he might already be on to their business, but nope, he's way too focus on making coffee great and learning how to cook pastries.

(A very tall man with a slightly beat down suit and a small scratch on his cheek came in. He was shifting his weight between two feet, making sure that the bag he came in with was hidden behind his back.

"Hello there, welcome to the Top Flight Cafe, where we may not offer flights, but our coffee can send you to the moon, what can I get for ya?" Jake drawled barely giving the man a glance before scowling back at the POS system.

"They don't do flights, anymore? What happen to the shipments?" The man asked confused as he squinted at Jake.

"I dunno, sir, you gotta ask Mr. Bradshaw about that one, but I'm pretty sure we don't do supply shipments ourselves, a truck comes with the flour and all the imported coffee goods," Jake said, shrugging. "All I do is help carry them on my shoulder to the back and count 'em, that's all.

"You guys transport the flour on regular flour bags," the man's voice said incredulously, stressing the word flour too much for Jake's understanding.

"I mean, what else are we gonna use?" Jake asked, raising a brow. "If ya really wanna know, you can call Mr. Bradshaw, but aside from that what can I get for ya?"

"Hey Jake, I'll take this customer back in my office, he's my guy, did you take his order, yet?" Mav said bursting from the back of the bakery as he speed-walked towards the counter flashing an awkward smile between the two of them. "He's new, he didn't know to bring you directly to me," Mav said.

"Not yet, Mav," Jake said.

"Yeah, what do you want, our meeting may take a while," Mav said glancing at the other man.

"Uh huh," the man said, squinting suspiciously, "An espresso would be fine, Mav," the other man, said.

"And I'll have a double shot espresso and an everything bagel with strawberry cream cheese and bacon," Mav said cheerfully rounding the counter and clapping the other man on the shoulder. "Leave the goods on the employee's break room table, me and Sli will catch up, no need to ring him up," Mav said steering the taller man away.

It was comical to see how the much taller man let him.

"I don't want to catch up with you, I wanted Ice," the man name 'Sli' said with a sigh. Almost like he's pouting.

"Tough luck, we're a two in one deal," Mav said as they walked through the back area.

Jake shrugged and made the order. Mav always had chaotic orders.)

---

He's so focused on doing his job, that he manages to miss some telling signs that the coffee shop wasn't just a coffee shop.

("Hey Bradley," Jake says bursting into the managers office, darting forward to the supplies closet without a glance towards his general manager. "Do we have anymore markers? We ran out, and writing with a pen on cups is annoying." Jake said opening the closet widely and rummaging through it.

Bradley immediately muttered something in another language on the phone before hanging up, shutting several folders, and shoving papers down his suitcase and into some of the desk drawers.

"Yeah, buddy, I think they're behind the box of batteries--"

"Found them, thanks, man," Jake said barely even glancing his way as he waved before he went out.

Making Bradley's efforts useless, but better safe than sorry, right?

He really should start putting the supplies closet outside the office.)

---

Javy, Mickey, and Reuben visit Jake and they seem to be wary of the coffee shop. Jake shrugs them off because he's starting to really like the place and the job he's steadily getting good at.

("I don't burn the coffee all the time, anymore, man!" Jake said smiling widely as he handed Javy a cup.

"I'm so proud of you, buddy." Javy said in a deadpan as he sipped his coffee. "Do you know how to froth milk, now?"

"Yeah, Ice taught me during my first day," Jake said smiling brightly.

"Ice, huh?" Payback said muttering to himself.

"Yeah, they apparently have weird nicknames, his is Iceman," Jake said nonchalantly as he wiped down the counter.)

---

Eventually, shit hits the fan. The coffee shop is stormed during regular day hours on a weekday. After the lunch rush where everything has been quiet. Men armed to the teeth burst in, making people drop to the ground as they pointed guns at the few customers that were there.

Jake just continued to wipe down the counter as he calmly walked in front of the register.

"What can I get for you folks today?" Jake said in a bored manner. "If you wanna buy some manners, you gotta get them somewhere else, though, unless you wanna show me ya got some by putting away the guns? These ladies and gentlemen are customers just like ya'll they have the right to be here like you do."

"Jake," Bob hissed tugging the back of the other man's shirt harshly.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, Where the fuck is Iceman, Bobby?" The leader said pointing the gun at him.

"Mr. Kazansky ain't here today, and even if he was, you can't just ask for him easily like you can ask for coffee," Jake drawled.

"Jake, stop." Bob gritted out before facing the antagonists. "He's not going to give in with whatever you guys want, you know. However, if you put the guns down, we can talk about this," Bob said with steel in his voice as he removed his glasses and rested them to the side.

One of the men huffed out a laugh, "You have no leverage against us, Bobby-boy, we have you outnumbered today. All we got to do is to kill you one by one, he's always been fond of his staff. Especially normies like him," the man said nodding in Jake's direction. "He really knows nothing, huh? Unfortunate that his hick brain doesn't have a sense of self-preservation--"

"Rude, I am a delight," Jake drawled, resting his hands on the counter and leading forward. "Buttt that's more of my charmin' personality, you won't find it delightful if I take action. Only I can call Bobert names after all, ya know?"

"Pfft-- what's blondie here gonna do--"

Bob couldn't believe his eyes, he was accustomed to violence. Raised in it by this point, but he never expected it from Jake of all people. And he never expected it to be so smooth, fast, and efficient. By the end of it, all of the armed men were incapacitated on the ground, the leader on his knees as Jake looked down at him and pinched his cheeks together with one hand, staring impassively.

"Considering I'm the one standing here while all your friends are done for," Jake started, voice even and smooth. "It seems like this hick has more self-preservation than you, do," Jake said smiling before delivering a sharp hit to the temple making the man pass out on the ground.

Jake put his hands on his hips and looked upward as if praying to God for strength before pulling out his phone. He looked back at Bob and gestured for him to give him a moment, as he brought the phone to his hear.

"Hey Coyote," Jake said chuckling weakly as he pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a deep sigh. "Seems like I'm back in the game, although, it may have seemed that I never left in the first place," Jake said huffing out a low laugh and shaking his head in disbelief. "I need clean-up crew, now."

---

part 2

[a-kaash-me-outside]

a bit dirty - ch5

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch5 | next (coming soon) [masterlist]

// can't be a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6538 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more bathroom fucking, somewhat publicish? but when isn't it i guess, meeting friends p2 ~ ah!, names names names pet names a million pet names, some nice fruition, a lot of feelings, soft and fluffy fr, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: ch6 will not be out next week as (to be honest) it isn't finished yet. i thought i'd have finished it by now, but my life is kinda crazy right now!! and i am very!!! ah! so! it will be coming, i promise. just not next week. thank you for being patient and sweet as always. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

osamu has ‘trusted’ atsumu with working the night shift and closing the restaurant, and that’s how you know how important this night is to him. plus, atsumu kinda owes you two.

but it’s not just that he’s letting atsumu work the night shift and close the restaurant (or, rather, shove receipts into a paper bag until osamu’s back to deal with it), he made plans and arranged the schedule so that the two of you weren’t working the morning shift the following day either, and he did it all within a week. 

usually osamu liked to plan ahead, organize his weeks months in advance, iron out details and double/triple check, especially when it came to his restaurant, but the second that he dropped you home that night, he was moving around shifts and trading favors for promises. he didn’t want to wait weeks and weeks and months and months to take you out on a proper date. in fact, even waiting until the end of the week was too long, but he’d survive. 

particularly, he’d survive when most of his shifts leading up to your date were ones that he shared with you. some days with just you, some nights with some extra coworkers, and the night before your date spent all alone. it was slow anyways, barely enough dine-in customers all night to count on both hands. 

as time ticked on, as it got later and later into the night, all osamu had were to-go orders and solo lingering customers at the bar. he was ready to close up shop early, to turn the sign to close and call it an early night in preparation of his date tomorrow, but the door chimes and along with it a loud chatter as a group of guys enter from outside. “hey guys, was just about to close up, but i’d be happy to do a to-go for ya,” osamu calls out as he delivers the last bill to the single woman in the middle of the bar. 

“shit,” tsukishima says under his breath, reaching over to smack kuroo in the back of his head, “shoulda fuckin’ left an hour ago, when i said.”

“miya osamu closing early?” you tease, and osamu instantly swivels his head to find where the voice is coming from, “what’s the rush? gotta hot date?” you ask, light as air as you enter the restaurant for the first time as just a customer. 

when osamu sees you, his chill attitude is put on pause, not gone, but not at the forefront, as you walk over to greet him, to pull menus from behind the bar and set them on the corner booth, but you don’t get that far. you’re not on the clock. you’re just here with your friends as the cute girl he’s going on a date with tomorrow, so he reaches his arms out, wraps them around you and pulls you into a tight, but quick hug. it really isn’t long enough. 

“what’re ya doin’ here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, smile huge. 

you nod towards the direction of the four guys bickering in the doorway. “friends were hungry, recommended the best place i knew,” you say, lightly nudging your elbow against his side, “plus i knew you were all alone tonight, figured you’d want company as you closed.”

he smiles even bigger at this, goes to nod in affirmation, but you rush on, “but if you’re really closing up early and stuff, it’s not a big deal, we can-”

“go sit down,” he says, chin pointing to the exact booth you were going to put menus on, “whadya want to drink?”

“surprise me,” you say, sly smile kissed away as he leans down and places a small peck against it and you’re ready to call off the entire date tomorrow, because you’re not sure that you need it. this casual kiss, the tight greeting hug, you could just take him back to your place tonight and spend the entire day tomorrow telling him all the reasons why you’ve fallen for him this past year. 

but osamu, ever the romantic, classic, but with an exciting twist, probably wouldn’t let that happen, needs to take you out on a real date, has probably put a lot of thought into where he’s taking you and what he’s going to wear and what you’re going to wear and you don’t want to deprive him of that. 

you kiss him once more because you can, and then you walk, menus in hand, over to the large booth in the corner and motion with your hand for your friends to join you. “is osamu really okay with us staying?” akaashi asks, sliding into the booth next to bokuto. you sit on the other side of bokuto, able to get up and grab things from behind the bar or the kitchen if you need to.

“definitely,” you say, smiling as you start spewing recommendations, food that isn’t really on the menu and items that are better than others because they’re osamu’s favorites and osamu makes his favorite foods with a bit more love than the rest. when osamu makes his way over to your table, everyone knows exactly what they want, rattles off a long order of hidden dishes and kitchen favorites and osamu smiles at you every single time.

“do you need help?” you ask, body already moving to join him in the kitchen.

he clicks his tongue, hand on your shoulder to keep you seated, “i’m okay, i promise.”

“i know you’re okay, but if you need something, i can-,” you start, but are cut off by osamu’s sweetly stern statement. 

“you’re not working, angel, quit,” he says, waving you off as he walks backwards towards the kitchen and you know you’re not going to hear the end of it when he walks through that swinging door. “just be a bit,” he calls as he disappears into the back room. 

you throw a look to your group of friends, narrowing your eyes as their smiles grow. kuroo’s the first one to talk. “well, if i knew that’s all i had to do to make you quiet, i’d’ve started calling you angel a long time ago,” he jeers. 

“seriously, did you see how fast she just gave it up?” tsukishima asks, because, of course, the only time that kuroo and tsukishima get along is when they’re poking fun at you. 

“oh hush,” akaashi says, defending you as he does, “maybe if you guys were as hot as osamu, somebody might listen to you.”

“kaashi’s got a point,” bokuto agrees, nodding along happily, because bokuto will always agree with akaashi.

you put your hand on bokuto’s arm, “he absolutely does, bo.” and the rest of the table is quiet, eerily quiet, and so are you, terrified that someone is going to say something else or embarrass you in some way, but the thing that breaks the silence is kuroo.

“he really is hot though,” he says, nodding, and everyone is in agreement there. 

/\ /\ /\

“seriously, everything was so good,” akaashi praises for the sixth time tonight, head leaning on bokuto’s shoulder because he keeps telling everyone not to let him eat another bite and then he keeps fighting everyone and eating another bite. 

“thanks, i appreciate it,” osamu says for the millionth time tonight, because it’s not just akaashi who is fawning over the food, it’s everyone at the table. 

you’re sitting next to osamu who’s pulled up a chair on the edge of the table and is finishing up his own dinner with you and your friends. his hand is on your knee, just resting while the two of you eat the last bites of food on your plate, just to let you know that he’s there. 

“so where are you bringing yn tomorrow?” bokuto asks, finally calling attention to the two of you dating for the first time tonight.

“oh,” osamu laughs, “kinda a surprise,” he admits, “but i guess i can show ya.” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, types something into it, glares at you when he shows your friends, makes sure that you’re not sneaking a peek. they all look confused at first, but then he types something else out on his phone and shows them again and they all understand now. 

“this is totally not fair,” you say, shaking your head, “spilling the surprise, but i don’t get to know.”

“just be patient, yn, god,” tsukishima teases, residual smile from reading whatever it was on osamu’s phone. “you’ll see tomorrow.”

“you will see tomorrow, doll,” he says, last bite from his bowl gone after he finishes his sentence. “speaking of,” he stands up, “you guys are welcome to stay as long as you want, but i do have to start cleanin’ up and closin’ down.” the open sign was turned to closed about an hour ago, but the six of you were chatting and eating and osamu happily welcomed the company in the final hours of the day.

“ah, yeah, we gotta get goin’, actually,” kuroo says, reaching into his pocket to grab his wallet as he nods towards you, “yn’s got a big date tomorrow, gotta get her home early.”

“it’s funny when i make the joke,” you say, narrowing your eyes, “not you.”

“i thought it was funny,” bokuto admits. 

“i’ll take the bill whenever you’ve got a second,” kuroo calls out, credit card in the air, but osamu waves his hand. 

“don’t worry about it,” osamu calls out from the kitchen, walking back into the dining area as he wipes his hands on his apron. 

“no way,” kuroo says, shaking his head.

“serious,” osamu replies, “on me.”

“that’s really nice of you, but we ate so much food,” akaashi reasons, gesturing to the table of plenty of empty dishes. 

“just happy to meet yn’s friends,” osamu says as your friends meet him by the exit, “nice to share a meal with ya guys, thanks for the company.” 

kuroo sticks his hand out of a handshake and osamu takes it despite how weirdly formal it feels for him. tsukishima offers a wave and a sincere thank you. akaashi pulls him into a half-hug and bokuto nearly tackles him. they all pour gratitude and appreciation, and you’re sure they feel special, but it’s nothing compared to how you’re feeling right now. 

you feel like you could walk across the clouds, light as a feather, happy as a clam. you wrap your arms around osamu’s neck, pull him down into a soft, sweet kiss, and then pull him into a tight hug. he squeezes his arms around your waist, picks you up off the ground as he tightens his grip around you. “i’ll see ya tomorrow, sweetheart,” he says and then presses a kiss into the side of your cheek.

“can’t wait to see this mystery place,” you say, one last small peck on the lips for good measure before pushing the door open and joining your friends outside. you wave at him through the glass, and he waves right back.

“you’ve gotta cool boyfriend, yn,” tsukishima says once the doors close completely and the four of you start walking back to his car.  

“not my boyfriend,” you say, smacking his arm, but you feel giddy, like you’re twirling your hair around your finger and your eyes are made of hearts as your finish, “yet.”

/\ /\ /\

there are quite a few things that you’re feeling while you lean against the arm of your couch, phone in hand, waiting for a text from osamu to tell you that he’s outside of your apartment, and it hits you very suddenly that amidst all of them, amidst the floating and the excitement and the curiosity, you can’t seem to find nervousness anywhere. 

receiving osamu’s be there in 10 text, there are no jolts of anxiety or simmering bouts of apprehension that usually accompany a first date. you’re not worried about saying the wrong things or figuring out halfway through dinner that you’re incompatible or fearing that your date has the wrong idea of your level of interest. 

if labels didn’t exist at all, the way that you and osamu interact would put you way past friends and casual hookups. if the circumstances of meeting for the second time weren’t as they were, tonight would feel less like a first date and more like a date night. 

even the unexpected knock on the door doesn’t scare you. in fact, you’re not sure why you weren’t just expecting it, as if osamu would make you walk from your door to the car all on your own. you’ve been ready for the better half of an hour, shoes on and waiting by the door, not because osamu is late, he’s perfectly and attentively on time, but because you’ve been ecstatic about this all day. you open the door, already grinning before you can even see him, just at the presence of him on the other side. 

when you see him, your beaming grin turns more into a smitten smirk, quieter and more fluttery, and despite the fact that you saw him less than 24 hours ago, you have to restrain yourself from tackling him. he looks good, great, perfect actually, and seeing him look so perfect doesn’t make you feel any less dressed up, just more excited to be here with him and to see where he’s taking you.  

his eyes meet yours and they linger, helplessly and unapologetically, before skimming down your body, lips in a tight smile as he lets go a, “you look really great.” he leans in, palm resting against your jaw as he presses a sickeningly sweet kiss into your smile. you’re not exactly sure how you’re still upright, knees slightly weak as he snakes his arm around your waist, holding you tightly. “ready to go?”

you nod, follow him down the sidewalk to his closely parked car, and he helps you into the passenger seat, his hand moving with your waist to feel you against his palm for as long as he can.

the only turmoil you’re feeling is the fact that you have to behave all night when osamu looks like that and you’re both off the clock and out in a romantic environment and he keeps touching you like that and when the expectations of tonight are the same in both of your heads. 

/\ /\ /\

osamu has a way of making even abandoned oceanside buildings feel romantic. 

it wasn’t exactly the type of place that you were expecting osamu to take you on your first date, but for some reason, you trust him. actually, it isn’t anywhere near the images that you had in your head, but when he parks, turns off the car, a bit of underlying nerves in his demeanor, and turns to you with a look that says i know this is weird, and i don’t really know how to explain it without showing you so just trust me, you throw him one right back that says, of course i trust you. 

though, it’s not adding up in your head either, where you are and how he looks. you stay in your seat until he opens your door because you know osamu enough to wait the extra few seconds. he doesn’t rush to grab something else from the backseat or trunk, doesn’t lead you down the river past the abandoned building to sparkling lights and a set up spot. 

when you step out of the car, you walk with osamu, arm wrapped around his, towards the gravel path and the wooden fence separating the pathway from the cold ocean and rocky shore below. he leans against the rotting wood, hand sliding down your arm to grab yours. you can feel the breath that he takes in his grasp, see it in the rise of his chest from the corner of your eye. 

and then he explains everything perfectly in a single sentence. “this is the restaurant that made me want to open my own.” he could’ve stopped there, sat in silence for the rest of the night, not have taken you anywhere else or done anything else, and you’re positive that your heart would have been full enough for ages. you hum, just a short breath of acknowledgement as you squeeze his hand, side step closer into him.

he continues on, “i used to go here after school with sumu, used to do homework in a booth in the corner, eat lunch and dinner when our parents weren’t around or were working late. it was my first job in the kitchen, brought my first girlfriend here, figured out my life inside those walls.”

“i didn’t even realize that i wanted to open up a restaurant until my senior year of high school, really. thought i’d be doin’ the same thing as sumu for the rest of my life until one day i came here on my own because sumu and i had a really bad fight and the owner made me this onigiri, something that wasn’t on the menu, and she didn’t charge me for it because i was uncharacteristically quiet.”

osamu shifts slightly, clears his throat at the memory. “and she said somethin’ like a good meal can heal the heart a little faster, and i remember that the onigiri was so good that despite the fact that my brother was,” osamu sighs and shakes his head, a tiny smile on his face given how relevant his next words are, “a fucking asshole, i still wanted to save half of it to show him how good it was.”

there are still remnants of a restaurant that you can spot now that you’re looking for them: peeks of booths behind paper-covered windows and a patio with a broken gate and places where tables used to be, faded letters on a sign that was situated long enough to cause the paint around it to dull. you can see him here when you close your eyes, through these different phases in his life, for different reasons, with different people. 

“they closed down a few years ago, went out of business while mine was starting up,” he explains and you rest your head on his shoulder, “reminds me of how lucky i am that mine is still goin’, still kickin’. makes me think of the future too, of relocating or opening a new location.”

“it’s scary to think about losing it, terrifies me every day,” he says, shifting again, standing up off of the wood, his attention still on the abandoned restaurant, “but i think there’s something cool about being so scared to lose something… like when something in your life is so special that have no choice but to worry about what it would be like if it weren’t there.” 

osamu turns to you, looks down into your eyes, and he doesn’t have to say it, you understand completely, but he just has to make sure, “kinda like how i feel about you.” 

you already knew exactly what he meant before he said it, you were absolutely certain of the looming analogy he was making, but when it comes out of his mouth, your entire body feels warm. 

you don’t know what to say, how to match the sentiment of what osamu’s just said to you, which words to choose to follow the foundations of dreams and what was essentially just a confession. really, the only words that feel right feel like they’re coming too soon. 

it’s a weird dynamic that you have here, the notion that this is your first date, but in this moment, you feel like you’ve known osamu for years. and more than that, the two of you have had feelings for each other, feelings that have bubbled and grown and manifested despite the precarious situation between you two, for almost a year now. 

you haven’t been dating him in the months you’ve worked at onigiri miya, but you’ve been learning about him and the people closest to him, you’ve seen him almost every single day, you spend hours with him after close just eating dinner with him and you come in on your days off to bring him a coffee from down the street. you’ve both been too busy navigating unsaid feelings and difficult situations to care about labels and professions, so maybe a first date isn’t too soon.

“we’re not eating here obviously, i just wanted to show ya,” he says, sheepishly rubbing his palm against the back of his neck when you don’t respond for a few seconds too long.

your eyes dart from his soft gray eyes to his lips and back again, not sure where they should land to tell him something like this. your breath is caught in your throat, not because you’re worried, but because you’re so excited. “i love you, samu.”

there’s a soft stun in his eyes that might’ve caused some form of nerves to stir in your stomach if you weren’t so sure about this, if you didn’t trust him so much. his eyes widen just a bit and you swear you can feel his heart skip a beat, or maybe that was yours. the pink tint that takes over the tops of his cheeks is warm when you caress your palm against it. you don’t need to hear it back. you heard it whispered between every single word of his story and screamed in the way that he looked at you just a few moments ago.

when his mind catches up to him, he leans down quickly, finger under your chin to tilt your lips into his. it’s soft and sweet and disgustingly romantic, but not as romantic as the way he pulls you closer as he pulls away from the kiss. “i love you, angel.”

you don’t need to hear it back, but fuck, is it really nice.

/\ /\ /\

now, this? this is exactly what you had in mind when you envisioned the place that osamu would take you for your first date, a restaurant with minimal overhead lighting and flickering candles on each table and no prices on the menu and more choices for wine than there were food. 

when you walk to the table, osamu places a strong hand on your lower back, fingers curling around the fabric of your tight clothes, gripping and kneading into the fat of your hip as he makes polite conversation with the person who guides you to the private room with a chilling bottle of wine on small round table. 

and you’d think that sitting across from osamu, unable to wrap his arm around your waist or throw his arm over your shoulder, would be easier. there is an entire table of distance between the two of you, but that doesn’t stop him. he moves his chair just slightly to the side of the round table, not sitting next to you, just closer, and now he can rest his arm on your knee and the inside of your thigh the entire night.

he doesn’t bring any attention to it either, doesn’t send you mischievous smiles or knowingly glances, he just talks to you as if he’s not driving you absolutely fucking insane right now, pushing his fingers under the hem of your skirt, dragging his nails against your thin tights. he asks you about your day and about what you and your friends did after you left the restaurant last night and about how you met your friends and nothing that’s coming out of his mouth is even remotely about how wet he’s making you right now with his feather soft touches and assuredly harsh grips. 

the place is amazing, gorgeous, and the dinner is delicious, but the company is much better than the two combined and you’re having a really difficult time being patient, because as much as you don’t want this moment to end or this dinner to be over, you really fucking want this dinner to be over. 

you get your thank you and gratitudes out of the way before the bill is even on the table and osamu doesn’t tease you for your assumptions in his refusal to split the check. you wait until he’s placed the cash with the check and closed the front of the little black book to mutter, “samu, i don’t know if i can wait until we get home.”

he knows exactly what you’re talking about the second that it leaves your mouth. he doesn’t play dumb or make you explain yourself, but he does ask, with narrowed eyes and a slightly tilted head, “is this a test?”

“no,” you shake your head, similarly narrowed eyes now, “why would it be a test?”

“you just complained about the fact that we’ve only ever fucked in bathrooms last week,” he explains, and you’re wondering if the drag of his fingers pulling on the thin fabric of your tights is habitual or not because it doesn’t stop even as you’re having this conversation.

“okay, fair, yes, i did do that, but,” you say, head tilting back and forth as you try to think of some form of difference between then and now, “yea i don’t know if i have an excuse. you’ve been teasing me all night and i’ve spent all week thinking about you and i really want you,” you say, low.

“you can’t wait until we drive back to mine?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

realistically, you probably could wait the drive home and maybe if you weren’t so comfortable with fucking in bathrooms, you would’ve easily done it, but if you didn’t have to wait to feel him against your skin and deep inside of you, why would you? you shake your head now, teeth scraping against your bottom lip, eyes soft and impatient. 

he lets out a sigh, shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but these actions aren’t quite matching the loving touch he gives you or the hungry smile he’s wearing as he helps you up. “no use in beating around the bush then, huh?” he asks, nodding towards the restrooms in the back of the restaurant. 

as you’re walking to the bathroom, your brain catches up with you, and you almost laugh at how easy the explanation for why you don’t mind doing this again is, “i think it’s because i know you’re going to take me back to your place for a glass of wine tonight, even after you’ve fucked me, and i’m going to spend the night and then in the morning, we’ll make true to all of the promises that we’ve made about never fucking in a bathroom again.”

osamu presses a kiss into the side of your head as he walks with his arm draped around your shoulders. “well, i don’t know about never,” he jokes, or maybe not jokes.

you don’t have time to protest or to agree because when you make it to the bathroom, you realize a very distinct lack of private bathrooms, of single rooms with lockable doors. you also don’t have time to hesitate or worry about logistics because osamu is tugging you into the women's restroom quickly and with less fear than he maybe should. 

you can barely appreciate how nice it is in here either, only realize how clean and spacious the stalls are because osamu closes the two of you into the nearest one and you can’t stop giggling at how fast he made all of the decisions to end up here.

“what was that?” you ask, eyebrows knit together as you swivel your head in disbelief, “didn’t even have enough time to take in my surroundings or make a single choice.”

osamu tilts his head slightly, pushes you gently up against the non-stall wall, and your jeers and taunts melt away. “didn’t wanna make you wait any longer, bunny, been teasin’ you all night.”

a whimper leaves your lips in place of meaningful words, but that’s perfect for osamu. he smiles down at you, presses his palm into your hip to keep you pinned against the wall as he kisses down your neck and chest, tugging on the thin straps of your top until they fall down your shoulder. 

his lips are everywhere but yours, drastically different than how he usually is, and you understand why very quickly. he pulls your top down, bunches it up around your waist as he quickly captures your nipple into his mouth. you move to let your head fall backwards at the feeling, but there’s nowhere for you to go, no room for your body to squirm in response to his wet tongue circling around your hard bud. 

your other tit is in his hand, kneaded and massaged as his thumb flicks across your nipple, pointer finger migrating to roll it between his two fingers. “fuck,” he says, so quietly, between licks and soft suckles, “can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see your pretty fuckin’ tits, babygirl.”

there are knots and butterflies taking up the space in your stomach and the words can’t come out fast enough, “want you to fuck them, samu.” you’re much louder than he is, so loud that he throws you a warning look, turning his head from side to side to remind you of where the two of you are. the thought of not hearing osamu as much as you normally get to isn’t sitting right with you, but he’s gently coaxing you to your knees and fumbling with his belt and y’know what, you’ll get over it.

before his hardening cock slips between your soft tits, you capture his head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his thick head, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. when you pull off, you let the spit drool off of your tongue and onto the length, spitting any remaining between your tits, and then you let him do the rest. 

he holds your tits in both of his hands, has to stop himself from getting distracted by the weight of them or the softness of your skin as he thrusts forward between the fat. he tilts his head back, chin to the ceiling as he squeezes your tits around his cock, slit drooling precome onto your chest as he fucks through it. 

every new part of your body that he gets to touch and hold and feel and fuck is just as perfect as the last, but so completely different. he watches your tits bounce as his balls hit your stomach, focuses on the ripples in your skin and the jiggle of the fat, and your pretty eyes looking up at him through your lashes. he compares the sensation to fucking your thighs and your mouth and perfect cunt, and fuck, he can’t stop the amount of precome leaking from the thought. 

he’s silent, though, save for a few strong exhales and harsh swallows, and the longer that he’s fucking your tits, the tighter his grip is, the more powerful his thrusts are until he’s convinced that he’s going to come all over your face. you can feel his cock pulsing between your tits, his face focused on the sight, and you’ve fucked him enough times to know that he’s getting close.  

you don’t say a word either, only place your hand on his hip until he slows his movements, and stand up and turn around. he doesn’t need you to explain anything to him, the way that you arch your back, both arms crossed over one another and pressed up against the wall above you is plenty tell enough. he reaches under your skirt, pulls your tights down just enough to spread your legs, and then pushes inside of you. 

how full osamu makes you feel will never get old. it will never not be the most incredible feeling in the world, being filled to the brim, inch by agonizing inch until you can feel his balls brush up against the inside of your thighs. the first few thrusts inside of you are harsh, too harsh, the clapping echoes off of the walls, bounces right back to you, it’s so loud. 

he’s slower after that, long, steady strokes inside of you that allow you to feel every inch, every throb. the small circles that he’s rubbing into your messy clit are only making your pussy clench around him tighter. you can’t tell him anything, can’t communicate how close you are or how good he’s making you feel, so you’re very grateful for how well he knows you, how easy it is for him to feel the signs. 

he picks up the pace just long enough to make you come, sacrifices a bit of noise to make you drip all down his cock, to tighten around his throbbing cock, quivering gummy walls coaxing him just as close as you are. 

you hear the door to the bathroom push open, voices accompanying it, and osamu stills, not moving a single muscle at the first notice, and then quickly moving with you onto the toilet to fuck you through the rest of your orgasm. he’s full sheathed inside of you, holding your legs up by the backs of your thighs as he lifts off of the toilet seat, thrusting into you, holding you in place above him as he pulls out. 

you wish you could think more about how insane this is, but all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel, how safe and supported you feel in this wild position. you lean back into his chest, back of your head on his shoulder, and the second that you’re close enough, he kisses the side of your face, saying so soft and so slow that you’re certain no one else in the world hears it, “love you, pretty girl.”

as soon as you’re alone again, you scramble to your feet, turning around and facing him. he pulls you into him, tugs the sides of your tights back up and pulls you into his lap, legs as wrapped around him as they possibly can be. he kisses you, gently, and the tone of this entire hookup has shifted dramatically since he said those words to you again for the second time tonight. 

he doesn’t ask or apologize as he grabs your tights between your legs and tears a hole in them big enough to slip inside of you again. he only laughs when he notices how shocked you look, can’t help it, and then kisses the corner of your mouth as the shock fades, replaced with the feeling of being incredibly full and extremely close. 

it doesn’t take long at all for the eye contact and the rhythmic thrusts to get osamu just as close as he was before, head falling against your shoulder, arms wrapped around your lower back as he lifts off of the toilet to fuck his cock into you deeper, but he doesn’t have enough room to fuck you faster, needs more space to give you nice, long strokes. he leans your forward, both of your hands splaying out to brace yourself on either sides of the wall.

he fucks into you faster, harder, one hand under your lower back, the other on your stomach to pull you back onto his cock, and you’re so perfectly warm and tight around him, look so pretty under him like this. you can feel his cock begin to pulse, streams of come ready to spray inside of your snug walls, but he pulls out at the last second, shoots his load between your legs instead, ropes of thick come landing on the insides of your thighs, the fabric of your panties and the outsides of your tights. 

the two of you stay like this for a second in this exact position as osamu catches his breath and lets you recover as well. when he finally moves, he sits back down on the toilet with you on his lap and he presses a soft kiss into the bottom of your jaw. he doesn’t need to look to reach for the toilet paper. you close your eyes at the feeling of the tissue on your skin as he cleans you up as best as he can for how unplanned his release was.

“i can’t believe you tore my tights,” is the first thing that you say when you’ve recovered enough to talk. 

he laughs, kissing the bottom of your jaw again and squeezing his arms around you tighter. “i’ll buy you new ones, baby, i promise.”

it’s quiet in the bathroom. you feel okay enough to keep talking, only slightly on edge about someone walking in on the conversation, but you can’t wait until you’re outside to ask him, “are you gonna fuck me again, can we just establish that? no more beating around the bush or wondering how the other feels because the situation is complicated?”

“can you- can we just-,” you’re struggling to finish the question because it feels dumb, futile given the fact that you’ve already told him that you love him. but you suppose that the question is trying to be so much more than that, you just can’t communicate it correctly. 

“oh, sweetheart, i want to do so much more than fuck you,” he says, hand moving up to cup your face, “i want to love you in every way possible.”

your face is so hot, stomach flipping, and the only words you can say in response are a breathy, “i can’t believe you just said the most romantic thing i’ve ever heard in a bathroom stall.”

“in a fancy bathroom stall,” he corrects, still beaming, “but then, i should probably wait until we go back outside to ask if you’ll be my girlfriend?”

“yea, samu! probably!” you say, but you can’t hide your matching smile.

“and is this before or after i invite you back to my place tonight?” he asks, and you’re 99% sure he’s fucking with you now, asking you all of these questions like this just to get you riled up. not that you were questioning the validity of them, just the timing and the tone. 

you feel like you’re combusting. how are you going to explain to your friends and family about how you and osamu got together? on your first date? after you told him you loved him? after you fucked him in the bathroom of a nice restaurant? but don’t worry that was also after he told you that he loved you back. oh, but he asked you to be his girlfriend before you went back to his place and after you had sex in the bathroom, yes, you get it now.

you lower your head into his shoulder, exhaling a big sigh as he picks your head up and presses a kiss into your forehead, cheek, jaw, and then your lips. you’re wearing a slight pout even after he pulls away and he laughs. “alright, alright,” he nods, “how about i ask you now if you’ll go back to my place and i can ask if you’ll be my girlfriend there?”

“deal,” you say.“best deal i’ve ever made,” he says back.

♡ tori's polls ♡ fav moment of ch5 !!!!!!

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites

(if any of these are wrong, off and you notice it LMK so i can fix em!)

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

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[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 19

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

For the first few months of the shop being open, there had been complaints about noise, property damage, lewd acts and even some random garbage fires. The neighbors were too afraid to call the police but they had no problem complaining amongst themselves. Oystein had called Hammed about setting up an account that way he could get daily deliveries but told him he would only tip double if Y/n was the one to deliver it. Hammed agreed without hesitation but reminded Oystein she still gets to decide if she's going to do the deliveries.

The first week she left the food on the step of the shop and or had someone who was going in give it to Oystein. She was later informed Hammed had to dock her pay because Oystein wasn't receiving his orders. As much as she wanted to go into the shop and beam his order at him, cursing him out. She decided that she would play this game.

She walked into the shop to see he had three customers standing at the counter. She waited for the business to be done and he smirked at her as she approached.

"I see you finally made it in again. I told Hammed that I missed some orders." Oystein explained.

"Yeah he docked my pay. Sorry you didn't get the food I very clearly place on the step and made eye contact with you." Y/n gave a fake smile and Oystein nodded.

"I'm sorry to hear that but it is your job to hand deliever the food, isn't it." She stared at him for a few seconds before walking closer and sticking the food out.

"Yes, yes it is. Here is your food." She place the food in his hands and he smiled.

"Come on Y/n. This can't be that bad. I doubled the tip, doesn't that count for something?" Oystein asked wishing she would let her guard down just slightly.

"Listen, my only job is to make sure that bag of food gets into your hands. You don't double tip for me to stick around and have conversations with you." Y/n explained with a smile.

"What if I tripled it?" He tested.

"As long as your names on the check and not your dad's." She leaned over the counter towards him. He was speechless. No one could cut him up like Y/n. She smirked knowing she had won this round and left the store. Every day she brought him his food, she made sure to put it in his hands or sit it in front of him. She wasn't going to get docked again and she refused to let his comments bother her.

Whenever he tried to start a conversation or make a snarky comment, she would make sure to knock something over or flip a record around knowing he would have to come around the counter just to fix it. She knew it annoyed him. Truth was, he accepted it. All he wanted was to interact with her.

"Hey did you see Enrich sweet talking the shop girl Euro is obsessed with?" Faust leaned against the counter talking to a customer and Oystein took his headphones off.

"Speak freely, asshole. What was that?" He challenged seeing the guy put his hands up.

"Hey man I'm just looking out for you. He's been pushing up on that sandwich shop chick that brings your lunch every day. He's trying to get signed by you." He could feel Faust's eyes on him.

"Wouldn't make much sense to do that if he wanted to get signed." Faust said blowing the guy off and telling him to take a hike. Oystein made a mental note of the interaction and keep his eyes out for whoever this Enrich guy was. She pushed the door open and he leaned back in his chair. She tossed the bag on the counter and gave him the finger before spinning on her heel and heading right back out the door.

"I can see why you like her." Faust croaked making Oystein roll his eyes. He was the only one who was there enough to see the on goings of their complicated connection. He never really

Today his order was running late. He had walked to the door ready to head to the shop and pick it up but he noticed Y//n was actually talking to someone. It was a guy who had come into his shop often looking for records. Nothing truly standout about the guy but he knew he didn't like her talking to other metal heads. He gave her a side hug letting her before she started towards the door. Oystein walked back around the counter so she wouldn't see him and tried to play it cool.

"You're late." He said taking the bag.

"Take it out of my tip." She said quickly.

"What tip?" That caught her attention. She turned slowly and looked at him. He opened the bag and sighed.

"It's cold now. I'm considering a refund and you're worried about a tip?" Oystein slid the bag back towards her and she glanced at Faust who looked away quickly.

"Today is not the day. Don't fuck with me-" She started.

"Look the shop is literally five minutes away. Don't get pissy at me because you can't walk a bag five minutes without it getting cold." Oystein knew he was being a prick but he was salty. She was talking to people who frequented his establishment, who wanted to be signed to his label and she thought he would just be okay with it? Not a chance. He was in fact petty.

Y/n snatched the bag off the counter, cussing under her breath. Oystein and Faust shared a look and they both chuckled.

She returned 10 minutes later with another bag that was not only hot but free according to the note on it from Hammeed. She pulled bills from her pocket and slapped it on the counter.

"You can keep the tip." Oystein said but she laughed.

"Oh no this time you can keep it. Use it. Take it to store and get a razor. You look like a vampiric pedophile, you fucking clown." Y/n seethed before giving Faust the finger.

"You're welcome for the free show." She left the shop annoyed and Faust laughed.

"She might actually kill you." He shrugged sitting in front of the TV once more and Oystein shook his head.

"Probably." Oystein whispered taking his food into his office.

[lemmetreatya]

baker!reader who sees jotaro a few times a weeks when he comes to the little shop to get a simple treat to go with his afternoon coffee, engaging in small talk that gradually becomes more friendly and comforting making the guy look forward to his *now* daily treat

this didnt go the way i wanted but ykw? im equally as okay with that 🥹

When Life Gives You Pastries — Single dad!Jotaro x baker!reader

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

Jotaro is impoverished with the sickeningly sweet greeting as soon as he enters the small bakery.

He doesn’t say anything back because he’s here for one thing, and one thing only, and that’s his breakfast.

It was already a hassle getting Jolyne ready for school and in the rush of trying to cook his breakfast, he burnt hers and so in the orderly sacrifice of a parent, he gave her his and went without.

Jotaro scours the small selection for a gathering max of three minutes before slapping a plain croissant and a takeaway coffee cup onto the cashier table.

“Will this be to go, sir?” You ask, your smile wide and attentive despite the broody man’s disposition.

He hadn’t even registered that you’d spoken to him at first, his eyes emptily boring into your apron as he mentally flicked through today’s to-do list like a flip book.

It’s only once he realised you were giving him an expectant look that his ears caught up to his brain and his brain to his mouth.

“Yes, to go. Sorry.” He fumbles.

“No worries!” You chirp, as understanding as ever.

Jotaro pays for his purchase and patiently waits as you make his coffee of choice — a Long Black.

(“So an Americano?” You clarify.

“No. A Long Black; Hot water first and then the espresso, not the other way round.”

Jotaro notices how you smile knowingly at his correction and without taking any offence.)

When it’s done, he then leaves a mandatory tip before leaving without any further thought.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

The next time Jotaro finds himself in this same bakery is when he’s on his afternoon break just a week and a day later.

He vaguely remembers your first encounter but hadn’t thought much of it until now. He does however vividly remember your diabetic customer service greeting and it stimulates him to reply back.

“Hey…” He aimlessly mumbles.

“Already got your coffee today?”

When Jotaro places the wrapped plain croissant by the counter, he’s shortly thrown off guard by your question.

Looking down at his styrofoam cup which donned his work company’s logo, Jotaro is confused why you ask him this.

“Y-yes?” He thinks hard before looking back up at you.

You ring up his item on the till, your smile still cloy.

“Then I’m guessing no Long Black today.”

Realisation finally licks Jotaro’s brain and his face slightly widens in clarity of that.

He remembers now; how he ordered coffee from here last time, and how it kept him proactive through the day. Not like the cheap instant stuff his office gives for free. What you gave him was a true espresso infused coffee and for that he’s grateful.

“No, not today.” He finally answers as you hand him a small bag that contained his croissant. “Maybe next time.”

You give the man another warm smile. Jotaro leaves a cash tip this time despite only buying a croissant.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

“Afternoon.”

The gap between when Jotaro last visited the bakery was shorter this time, he was back three days later.

Jotaro had thought to himself that he should buy Jolyne a treat for when she gets home from school. He’d gotten a call not too long ago from a teacher who was rather pleased with her progress and thought to let him know.

It was small encouragements like that which spurred Jotaro on. Being a full-time working single father was hard and a lot of the time he was unsure whether he was doing a good job or not. Yet, noticed achievements like that, regardless of how big, he was determined to celebrate.

When Jolyne won, so did he.

“A croissant and a cherry bakewell. Unlike you.” You jokingly spar when Jotaro places the items on top of the counter.

He’s already getting out his wallet as you package the food up.

“It’s for my daughter, thought I should treat her today.”

At the mention of his kin, you looked up in warm aptitude.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you. Hopefully she enjoys it.”

Jotaro internally gleamed at the prospects that you thought him sweet for treating Jolyne. Not that it meant much (he tells himself) but to hear a compliment on behalf of his parenting skills always made him keen.

You didn’t share anymore conversation after that. The both of you were quiet as you made his Long Black.

Once you passed over the package, you smiled once again.

“Thank you.” Jotaro says, as he leaves his tip and a very minute smile.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

“Are you really?” Jotaro asks almost immediately after you say the phrase.

Taken aback, you blink over at the man rapidly.

“Huh?”

He realises, now that he’s said that out loud, how intruding that must have sounded. Figures, since the phrase had absolutely been rattling like a ligma bean throughout his mind all week and that was his verbal fruition of that torment.

But he doesn’t mean any harm. If anything it’s just bridled curiosity and so Jotaro pauses within the middle of shop to clarify what he meant.

“No, it’s just…your small greeting thing you say. That you’re happy to serve.”

The explanation offers little context to his verbalised brain funk but still yet, you try to piece together as much as you could.

“Oh. Well, I guess I am. I enjoy what I do.”

“That’s good.” Jotaro hesitates before he moves towards the designated area where the croissants usually are. “It’s good to enjoy what you do. What keeps you getting out of bed, I suppose.”

There was an easy lulled silence as Jotaro hovered by the croissants.

Even though he got the same thing every time, he still liked to make sure there wasn’t anything else he fancied.

“Do you enjoy what you do?”

You ask once Jotaro places the croissant on the counter.

Already shuffling through his wallet for his card, he answers your question with his head down.

“Not really. But it pays the bills and it helps me keep Jolyne happy, so I guess it figures out.”

“Jolyne — your daughter?”

At the mention of her name, Jotaro looks up at you, a pause in his thinking at how you could have possibly known her name, but he then realises that it was from his own Freudian slip.

Jotaro slowly unveiled the card he planned to used and placed it on the counter.

“Yes. Yes, that’s her name. Jolyne.”

Your smile was light as you kept the conversation going as you rung up the items.

“Who named her?”

“Uh, I did. After her late mother’s favourite song.”

You halted in your actions, your fingers hovering over the till screen. The look of regret washed over your face at the prospect that you’d gotten too comfortable with the man and opened a messy can of worms.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Jotaro shook his head as he gingerly tapped his amex over the card reader.

“No, it’s fine.”

As you sheepishly handed him his package, Jotaro backtracked his words.

“Well, I mean it’s not fine but you just gotta keep moving.”

“Of course.” You say with a nod.

Jotaro offers you a weary smile.

“Thanks.” He lifts his bag in solidarity to as he beckons his way out the shop.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

The chiming and opening of the door alerted you of a new customer but from behind the counter, you didn’t see anyone come in.

With a face of confusion you looked over the counter to be none other than met with a rather small face looking up at you.

“Hey, there.” You greeted the individual.

The smile on your face was wide as the little girl looked up at you with massive curious eyes.

She didn’t say anything in reply, just stared right back up at you as you questioned her presence in your bakery.

Leaning your arms over the counter top, you pouted down at her.

“Are you lost?”

Before anymore exchanges could happen, the door to the bakery chimed once again.

“Hello, Hello! Daily bake— Oh! Hey!”

Your smile widened once you recognised who had walked into the store.

For a second, you hadn’t recognised him without his usual suit and tie, but you guess seeing him within his casual attire was even more of a nice surprise. You then connected the dots once the small girl had run up to the man’s leg and stretched her arm upwards so that she could hold his hand.

So this must be the infamous Jolyne.

“Hey, sorry for that. She unexpectedly ran ahead of me once we turned the corner.” Jotaro said whilst taking his daughter’s hand in his.

With an easy smile, you shook your head.

“No worries.”

In the duration that the two of them weren’t at the counter, neither you or Jotaro spoke to each other. Which was understandable considering he now had to entertain Jolyne.

“Dad, I want the one you got me last time.” She said.

“Yeah? Have a look and see if you can find it.”

Jotaro took one glance back at his daughter before approaching the counter. Rather than his usual croissant, he placed down a pain au chocolat.

“Good choice.” You muse

“Thought I ought to shake things up on a weekend.”

The both of you shared a polite bought of laughter between each other. Upon hearing the exchange, Jolyne skipped up to the counter before holding her bakewell tart in the air.

“Found it!”

She was too small to reach the counter top so you didn’t require that she place her treat there.

“Well done, Jojo.” Jotaro plainly laid his hand on top of his daughter’s head before removing it again. The touch wasn’t much but it secured a triumphant smile on Jolyne’s face.

Placing Jotaro’s treats into a bag, you directed your question towards the smaller girl.

“Jojo! That’s a very cute name.” You muse.

Hearing you engage with her, Jolyne’s eyes lit up as they flitted towards her dad before dancing back to you.

“Thanks. It’s dad’s name too, we share it!”

“Dad is also called Jojo?” You smile as you now look towards the larger man.

The man was quick to correct you as he took his bakery goods, his demeanour seemingly bashful at the prospects that his in-house nickname was being used anywhere but.

“I—As a nickname, For Jotaro.” He feigns.

“Jotaro.” You repeat.

For some reason your cheeks start feeling hot at the prospects that the man had just shared his name with you.

“Nice name.”

“Thanks.” He eyed you back,

And you weren’t lying, the name genuinely did suit him. A large stoic man who shared names with the daughter he begrudgingly, yet gladly, went to work for and brought to his favourite bakery shop on weekends — The name complimented him very much and in a very odd way, you found yourself smiling at the prospects of that.

Jotaro easily used his electronic watch to pay for the items as he hovers it over the machine. The cute ding signalled that the payment went through.

“Well, Jolyne, Jotaro. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Collecting his daughter by her small hand, Jotaro widely smiled as he nodded his head in a bid goodbye.

“And you.” He firmly said back.

The jingled ‘Byeeee!’ from Jolyne along with the opening bell of the door rung together as the two left the store.

[mimisempai]

I wasn't expecting you 4/5

Chapter Summary - Pastry date

Aziraphale comes as expected to collect his pastries, and receives a lot more...

Notes

It seems they're good at surprising each other...

On Ao3

Rating G -  2202 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5

"So how did you like it last night?"

Crowley, who was restocking the pastries in the display case, replied to Nina without turning around, " You guys are a pretty nice, fun group. Even if you've had one too many."

As he chuckled, Nina protested, "Hey, it was the carpet seller who had one too many. We weren't sober, that's clear, but we weren't drunk either. Besides, you should be thanking us for taking care of the 'Brown' problem."

"Yes, in a very subtle way."

He straightened and Nina shrugged, "It's the result that counts, right?"

She leaned toward him and said in a conspiratorial voice, "And what do you think of the bookseller?"

"He is... interesting."

"Interesting?! Interesting?! I had to put up with poor Mr. Brown's lamentations, and all you can tell me is that he is interesting?"

Their bickering was interrupted by the jingle of the door bell, and Crowley's chuckle died in his throat as the object of their conversation had just walked through the door.

Nina nudged him and whispered, "I'll leave you with this... interesting customer."

Crowley shook his head as he watched Aziraphale approach the counter and greeted him, "Welcome Aziraphale, what will it be today?"

"Good morning Crowley. I don't know yet, let me see what you have."

The barista watched with mild amusement as the bookseller paced back and forth in front of the display case, hands behind his back, looking for his pastry.

Then Aziraphale turned to him and said, "I'd be tempted by a slice of apple pie, but the slices are pretty big. I was wondering..."

He took a few steps closer and continued, "Do you have a break? Maybe we could share it and..."

Crowley didn't have time to react as he felt Nina unfasten his apron behind his back while she said, "He's entitled to a break and besides, as luck would have it, it's now." Then she nudged Crowley and added, "Come on, come on, half an hour, so don't waste a minute. I'll bring you the pie and..."

Aziraphale, an amused gleam in his eye, continued, "A cup of Earl Grey."

Crowley, realizing he had no chance of resisting, not that he wanted to, added, "An espresso for me."

He pointed to an empty table in the back of the coffee shop and said to Aziraphale, "After you."

A few seconds later, they sat down and waited for Nina to come up with their 'order'. When she had placed the drinks and the halved slice of pie on the table, she said to Crowley, "The half-hour starts now," then walked away without looking back.

The two men looked at each other and laughed together.

"Always so subtle."

Crowley nodded before asking, "Isn't the bookshop open this morning?"

"Yes, Muriel, my co-worker is here. I don't like dealing with customers, but they're very good at it, so we work it out."

The barista nodded and asked with interest, without a trace of judgment in his voice, "So it wasn't really a joke on Nina's part?"

Aziraphale shook his head and said in a self-deprecating tone, "I inherited this bookshop. It was my grandfather's, and he took me in when I left my... family at 18. I'm a literary critic, I love to read, and I'm not really a shopkeeper, not to mention the fact that I'm very attached to books, so I find it hard to part with them. But it's no miracle, you have to make money to keep the shop going, so Muriel came along at just the right time, a bit like you did with Nina. They intuitively know which books to buy for the bookshop to sell and which ones belong to my... collection. So they take care of the practical side of things, and I can get on with my work, surrounded by my precious books.  I'm not even a bookseller, you see".  

"Impostor," Crowley teased as he took a bite of pie.

Aziraphale laughed softly and continued, "But I'm only talking about myself. I know barista isn't your only job. What else have you done?"

Crowley replied, "Barista is the job I've done the most, but I've also been hired several times as a mechanic's helper because I have an old car I like to tinker with, and I've also done courier work. But none of that is my dream job. In fact, the reason I wanted something more stable and to be able to settle down is because..."

Crowley paused, realizing he was about to tell someone about his dream for the first time, and someone he barely knew. 

Aziraphale must have sensed his hesitation, because he said quietly, "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand, you know, we barely know each other, you don't have to..."

But Crowley wanted to, he had this compulsion, this feeling that he could tell the other man anything, so he continued, "I want to study astronomy. I know it's ridiculous, and I don't-"

"Hey, don't say that! Let me remind you that you're talking to a bookseller who doesn't sell books! My only question is, why this particular field?"

"I grew up in the country, and on summer evenings when the sky was clear, my father and I would often go to the same clearing to look at the sky. He would show me the constellations, know the names of some of the planets, and always tell me that he regretted that he hadn't studied to understand more. So when I was about ten, I promised myself I'd learn as much as I could so I could show him a lot more. But when I had just started college..."

His throat tightened and for a few moments he was unable to continue. Sensing his emotion, Aziraphale put his hand on his, which was next to his cup, and said gently, "Take your time."

Crowley thanked him with a smile, warmed by the kindness in Aziraphale's eyes, and lowered his gaze to take the time to collect himself so he could continue. 

After a few seconds, when he felt able, he resumed, "But he and Mom were in a terrible car accident and didn't make it, so, as they were my only family, I had to work to support myself and had to forget that childhood dream. Until now. I don't know if I want to make a living out of it, but I want to be able to fulfill that dream, for myself and for my father. There, you know everything."

Looking up, he saw Aziraphale's eyes shining with unshed tears as the bookseller said quietly, "Thank you for your honesty. I'm truly sorry for the loss of your parents. I know we barely know each other, but Crowley, I have to say it, you're amazing, you know? This is a very beautiful dream, and I hope with all my heart that you can make it come true."

Then he squeezed Crowley's hand before pulling it away, adding in a lighter tone, "And don't ever say it's ridiculous again."

Crowley let out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling as if he had been lifted from a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying, just by sharing his greatest secret with the man in front of him.

Then his eyes slipped to the wall clock and he exclaimed, "Oh, it's been half an hour!" He finished his coffee before standing up and saying, "My break is over. I'm sorry, I have to...

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"What?"

"I know it might be a little soon since we didn't know each other until yesterday, but-"

"Yes."

Aziraphale could only repeat like a parrot, "Yes?"

Crowley laughed softly and replied, "Yes, I would like to have dinner with you. Just tell me when and where."

"Tonight and at my place? I know it's not very proper for a first date, but I think it might be better for, well, you know, with the street gossip and..."

Seeing that the bookseller was starting to ramble again, Crowley stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder and said, "No, that's fine with me."

He was rewarded with a bright smile and added, "I really have to get back to work. See you tonight then!"

He walked away, then returned to ask, "What time?"

Aziraphale, who had risen, replied, "7:00?"

"Perfect!"

Crowley then joined Nina behind the counter to help her serve the arriving customers, while Aziraphale strolled happily back to the bookshop.

He stepped through the door and exclaimed cheerfully, "I'm back!"

Muriel, who had been bending over behind the counter, straightened up and replied, "Welcome back."

"I'll put the last box of books away."

"Okay!"

Aziraphale picked up a box and walked to one of the shelves, whistling a lively tune. After a few seconds, Muriel appeared and asked him suspiciously, "You look very cheerful. Any reason?"

Knowing that his colleague and friend wouldn't let go until he said something, he replied neutrally, "I have a date."

"A date? A date? Mr. 'I'm going to end my life a bachelor because no one can stand someone like me' has a date?"

"Yes, Muriel..."

"Who, where, how?"

Aziraphale chuckled and replied, "Crowley, the new barista, here, I invited him to dinner."

"Him? Whereas you didn't know him yesterday?"

Muriel reached over and touched his forehead.

Confused, Aziraphale asked, "What's the matter with you?"

"I'm checking to see if you have a fever."

Aziraphale laughed again and replied, "Idiot."

Muriel became serious again and asked quietly, "Are you sure?"

Aziraphale replied with the same seriousness, "Absolutely sure."

"What has changed since yesterday?"

The bookseller replied quietly, "Something about him makes me want to take the risk."

Muriel looked at him thoughtfully before turning and walking away, "I'm in the mood for a hot chocolate, I'll be back soon!"

"Ok- What?! Muriel, no, don't-"

But only the sound of the shop door closing answered him as he saw his friend cross the street and enter the coffee shop.

Crowley was just putting the clean dishes away when he heard the coffee shop door open. Nina was checking the inventory in the back room, so he turned to the counter and saw a new customer arrive, looking determined as they walked up to the counter.

"Hello, I'd like an extra large hot chocolate, please."

Crowley replied politely, "Very well, I'll bring it right over."

He went to prepare the chocolate and returned a few moments later to the customer who had taken out their purse.

He handed them the hot chocolate and said, "3.25 pounds, please."

The customer grabbed the cup before handing them the money. Just as Crowley took it, they grabbed his wrist and looked him in the eye, saying firmly, "If you hurt him, you'll have me to deal with."

Crowley almost laughed because he was twice their size, but something in the customer's eyes told him they were serious, even if he wasn't sure what they were talking about.

He just nodded and watched in amazement as they left the coffee shop and crossed the street before entering the bookshop.

"Well, you just met Muriel."

"Muriel? Aziraphale's co-worker?" Crowley looked back at Nina, who nodded and then laughed at his bewildered expression.

Crowley thought the people on this street were completely mad, but somehow he was really beginning to appreciate their sweet madness.

*********

Much later in the day, about two hours before Crowley was due to arrive, Aziraphale began to wonder what had possessed him to invite the barista like that. What would they talk about? It had been so long since he'd done that. What if the other man found him boring? What if he had misread the signs?

"It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves."

The words his grandfather used to repeat to him whenever he doubted came back to Aziraphale's mind, and as he looked at his portrait on the desk, he felt calm return to him and murmured, "Thank you, Grandpa."

Aziraphale took a deep breath and continued his preparations, heading to the kitchen to cook dinner.  He was quite confident in his culinary skills after receiving compliments from members of the small community on Whickber Street who had tasted his cooking more than once.

An hour later, the meal was ready and he looked at the kitchen clock with satisfaction. He had just enough time to shower and make himself reasonably presentable for the evening ahead.

He didn't dwell on the fact that it took him a little longer than usual to choose his outfit, that he combed his hair three times before finally tousling it with his hand, that he put on his best cologne. 

The most important thing was that half an hour later he was ready.

All the preparations didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat when he heard a light knock at the door. It also didn't stop his heartbeat from quickening as he approached the door to open it.

With his hand on the latch, Aziraphale took a deep breath before opening it and saying, in what he hoped was a natural way, "Good evening, Crowley."

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here