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itsdanii · 4 years

Note

I really love your “rejecting and regretting” drabbles and I would love to request one with Suna and Iwaizumi please

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 3

hey, bub. thanks for requesting! im so glad you're liking my works ♥️ was supposed to post this yesterday but i had an appointment with my psychologist so sorry for the slight delay. that being said, here's your request for iwaizumi and suna. i hope you like it♥️

genre: slight angst to fluff, slight crack

warnings: cursing, rude behavior (resolved), please do message me if i forgot any

ft. suna rintaro, oikawa!reader x iwaizumi hajime

title says it all.

Suna Rintaro

out of all the inarizaki boys, suna rintaro was the one who managed to pique your interest

at first, you thought that he was the most quiet amongst the group but the longer you stayed as a manager, the more you realized how wrong you were

In fact, suna is one of the most talkative, along with the miya twins

you even felt bad sometimes for kita for having to discipline the three as if they were his own kids

one day, you suddenly realized that you were falling for the middle blocker

you knew that it was not a good practice to fall for someone in a team you manage but it's not like you can control who you fall for, right?

and so, you made a decision to confess to him

"Oi, y/n! What's that yer holding?"

You squeaked upon being called by Atsumu and quickly hid the cake you were holding behind your back. Smiling awkwardly, you made your way to him and placed the cake on top of the table.

It was currently lunch time and as a usual routine, you, Osamu, Atsumu and Rin were meeting at your spot just near the gym to eat.

"Can you atleast lower your voice? The moment the others see this cake, it'll be gone in a snap of a finger," you scolded at him.

"Cake? What's it for?" As if a light suddenly appeared on top of Atsumu's head, he took the box and opened it with sparkling eyes. "Looks good!"

"No, wait!"

Your lips parted as you watched him take the fork that you put inside and sliced a piece for himself. He even let out a small moan of satisfaction as the taste of the cake filled his mouth.

"That...was for Rin," you said with a tiny voice, making Atsumu raise an eyebrow at you.

"Suna? Why are ya givin' him a cake?" Noticing the way you failed to answer, a grin started forming on Atsumu's lips as the realization came into him. "Holy shit, ya like him!"

"Like who?"

You and Atsumu both froze at the sound of Suna's voice. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you slowly turned around to face Suna who was now frowning at you.

"Rin-chan..." you said slowly.

Suna and Osamu both took their seats, Osamu sitting beside Atsumu and Suna sitting beside you.

"Y/n likes someone?" Osamu asked and took the fork to taste the cake you made, his face lightening up as it somehow reached his standards.

Being the goofy one, Atsumu nodded with a grin. He spared Suna a quick glance before wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully. "Mhm. The one they like is actually a part of the volleyball team. Any guess, Rin-chan?"

Despite the nervousness you're feeling, you managed to roll your eyes at Atsumu as he tried imitating the way you call Suna.

Suna just shrugged his shoulders, looking almost unbothered if not for the fact that he was gripping his chopsticks a little too tightly. "Don't know, don't care."

You felt your confidence drop a little at his lack of enthusiasm. "Aren't you even just a bit curious?" you asked, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

"No, why would I be? It's not like it's any of my business. You can like whoever you want to like. It's not like I give a damn about it," Suna simply answered.

The small hope inside you that you gathered throughout the whole week just to confess completely vanished, replaced with doubt and sudden insecurity. The way he said those words seemed as if he doesn't care about you at all and the fact that he said it in front of the twins made it even worse. You felt humiliated.

You glanced at Atsumu for help and the setter just sighed before sliding the box of the now half eaten cake to Suna. "Didn't have to be so rude 'bout it, Rin. Taste the cake. Maybe it'll change yer mind and make ya realize how dense ya are."

Suna just glared at him and took a bite, his eyes darting towards your figure. "Were you supposed to give this cake to the person you like?"

Seeing you nod, Suna rolled his eyes. "I don't think it's a good idea. It tastes like shit, I'm sure the guy would reject you the moment he takes a bite."

Your heart dropped at what he said. Not only did he say that your cooking was bad but also rejected you without saying it directly. The moment you felt your eyes tearing up, you immediately stood up and left the table, ignoring the continues yells of a certain miya.

Suna stared at your back before frowning at Atsumu. "What's up their ass? I just said it didn't taste good is all. They didn't have to be sensitive." Contrary to his words, Suna grabbed the fork and continued eating the cake.

"They made the cake for ya, dumbass," Atsumu answered and stood up, quickly grabbing his things before leaving to follow you.

Suna froze upon realizing what Atsumu meant. Eyes darting towards Osamu, he muttered a small curse before gripping his hair in frustration. "Samu..."

Not even waiting for what Suna wanted to say, Osamu shook his head no with a displeased look. "Ya fucked up big time. Sorry but I can't help ya with this one."

Suna was on his own.

No matter how much he tried convincing the twins to help him, neither of them agreed. He didn't know how to approach you after what happened. You basically ignored him even during practices, only doing your duties and talking to him when instructed by Kita.

Several days went on yet you were still ignoring him, and to say that Suna was getting fed up was an understatement. Not only were you ignoring him but you were also spending too much time with Atsumu.

Sure, he was aware that you two are bestfriends, but that doesn't mean that it wouldn't turn into something more. After all, Atsumu was a likeable guy. It wouldn't be impossible for you to fall in love with someone like him.

And so, the moment Suna saw Atsumu almost kissing your cheek, he snapped.

With fast strides, he went over to your direction and pulled you away from your bestfriend who only shrugged his shoulders and went on his way as if nothing happened.

Suna stopped when you reached an empty classroom and he immediately shut the door behind him for privacy. "I'm sorry for being rude to you last time," he started.

"You weren't only rude to me, ya know?" you said and averted your gaze from him. "You also rejected me. I know that I haven't directly confessed to you yet but it still hurt. I just assumed that maybe I had a chance since we were close with each other. I'm sorry for-"

"Please, don't," Suna said to cut you off. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, regret visible on his face. "Don't apologize for liking me."

"But Rin..."

"I don't want you to take it back. I like you too, y/n. So please..." Suna dropped his arms to his sides and rested his forehead on your shoulder before muttering, "Please don't ignore me anymore. I promise I'll love you the way you deserve."

You felt yourself soften at his words and despite how much what he said last time hurt you, you knew that deep inside, your heart belongs to him. You brought your hand up to run your fingertips over Suna's hair before nodding. "I won't ignore you anymore, Rin. You know why?"

He lifted his head up to look at you hopefully. "Because you like me?"

"You guessed right."

The moment you said those words, Suna immediately placed his hand on your jaw, angling your head up to him. "And I like you too."

Not able to hold himself back anymore, Suna leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, your eyes closing as you savored the feeling of finally kissing the man you like.

Iwaizumi Hajime

Iwaizumi is your brother's bestfriend

The first time you saw him was when you were in first grade, him and Tooru being a year older than you

Despite the small age gap, you still grew close with him as most of your time, you spent with Haji watching random movies and playing volleyball

When you entered high school, you only became closer to them

He protected you from bullies and those people who only wanted to use you in order to get closer to your brother

At first, you didn't notice that you were falling for him, thinking that you were just attached to him after being by his side for such a long time

But when you realized that your gazes lingered on him longer, your mind started wondering the feeling of his hand holding yours, and the way your heart fluttered everytime he was close, you knew that you've fallen for him deep

It was a Friday night, both you and Tooru were dressed in your pajamas as you waited in your room for Iwaizumi to finish making the popcorn.

Today, you all scheduled a movie night since this was the only time the three of you are free. Being a third year and a volleyball player at the same time was hard on both your brother and Iwaizumi's time and often times, you had to cancel due to them having an early practice.

Luckily for you, it seemed that their coach finally had mercy and decided to give them a weekend break.

You, on the other hand, had lots of free time in your hand since your workload isn't as heavy as theirs which is why you were always the one who adjusted when it comes to the schedule of your movie marathon night.

"Iwa-chan, gimme the one with more popcorn!" Tooru immediately said as soon as Iwaizumi stepped inside your room, balancing two bowls of popcorn in his hold.

You rolled your eyes at your brother and stood up to help Iwaizumi, purposely showing your brother how you took the one with more popcorn in it. "Sucker," you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Iwaizumi sighed at your attitude and plopped down beside you which made your heart flutter as always.

When the movie started, you noticed how much the two were so focused on the screen. You felt a little guilty since you were basically the one who suggested the movie yet you were the one who isn't paying attention.

How can you even focus if your crush is literally sitting beside you on your bed?

You could even smell him by how close he is beside you. You were, after all, crushed in between him and your brother, a blanket covering the three of you as you squished yourselves in your bed.

As the movie went on, you felt your eyelids getting heavier. You let out a small yawn and rubbed your eyes, the sound of the people talking on the screen making you feel drowsy instead of stopping you from sleeping.

Iwaizumi, who had noticed the way your head was swaying from side to side, gently took the half empty bowl of popcorn from your hold and wiped your fingers with a baby wipe. He then carefully guided your head to rest on his shoulder before refocusing his attention on the movie.

When you woke up, the room was silent. The television was already turned off and the lamp was already turned on. You looked beside you and noticed that the spaces beside your bed were already empty, reminding you that you must've fallen asleep and Iwaizumi and Tooru must've transfered to their rooms already.

Feeling your throat demanding for some water, you slid off your bed and made your way towards the kitchen. As you grabbed the glass, you almost dropped it upon seeing a reflection of a man behind you.

"You scared me," you whispered into the quietness as you came face to face with your brother's bestfriend.

He chuckled and ruffled your hair before grabbing himself his own glass, eyes staring at you as he downed the water within seconds. "Sorry. I didn't expect you to wake up since you always sleep like a log," he said with a grin.

You lightly smacked his chest, your cheeks heating up as you felt his hard muscles, no doubt the results of playing his sport.

A small growl coming from your stomach suddenly disturbed the silence, Iwaizumi's laugh immediately booming throughout the kitchen as you blushed in embarrassment. "Shut up. I only ate popcorn, you know?"

Shaking his head with a small smile, Iwaizumi pointed at the stool before saying, "Go sit. I'll whip you up something to eat."

You immediately obliged and couldn't stop yourself from smiling as you admired his back while he cooked. "Neh, Haji," you called out.

"Hm?" he hummed, throwing a quick glance at you.

"Do you like someone?"

You knew that asking such question was bold of you, especially when neither of you totally expected it. You didn't even know how the words managed to get out of your lips. All you knew was that if there was a perfect time to confess, it would be now.

After all, with your brother enjoying his time in dream land, nobody would disturb the both of you. It was serene, and you hoped that the outcome would be just as serene as the moment.

"Where's this coming from? Is this your way of trying to confess to me?" Iwaizumi said with a chuckle.

"And what if it is? What are you going to do?" You bit your lower lip anxiously as you waited for his reply.

But instead of embracing you and confessing his feelings too just like you expected, you were greeted with the seriousness of Iwaizumi when he spun around. He walked over to you and and placed the freshly cooked Omirice infront of you.

"Then I'd have to reject you," he answered simply, his voice sounding as if the topic wasn't up for any discussion.

"Why? Is it because I'm Tooru's sibling?" You frowned at him and crossed your arms over your chest. "You know that wouldn't change anything if you date me, right? You'd still be Tooru's bestfriend."

"I already said I'd reject you. That's it, end of discussion." With that, he turned his back on you and made his way out of the kitchen.

But before he can even completely walk out on you, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "But I like you, Haji. I always have.." You voice seemed tiny all of a sudden and your grip on his wrist tightened instinctively when you felt him removing your grip easily with his free hand.

"I'm sorry but I don't like you, y/n. Now, let go and stop with your delusions because no matter what you do, I'll never like you."

You felt your heart shatter at those words, tears quickly streaming down your cheeks as you watched him walk away, leaving you all alone in the now empty kitchen.

Guess you don't always get what you want, huh?

The rest of the weekend, you did your best avoiding Iwaizumi to make sure that you don't make him uncomfortable. You made sure to stay cooped up in your room until you were certain that Iwaizumi had already left. Heck, you even rejected your brother's offer when he asked if you wanted to go meet up with rest of the boys at the mall.

You knew that Tooru wasn't unaware that something happened since you've never rejected any offer when it comes to shopping. But even if he did, he sure stayed quiet about it and gave you space which you were thankful for.

A week rolled by and Iwaizumi was starting to get antsy. His spikes were not as good and his movements were too sloppy to the point that their coach had to sub him out during one of their practice games.

As he sat on the bench, his mind went back to the time he rejected you. Back then, he was sure that he did the right decision. He was a third year and you were only in your second year. Not only would it seem that he was after some kid, he would also look like an asshole who only befriended Oikawa for his sibling.

But that was before.

Now, he wasn't so sure anymore. He missed your affection towards him and the way you cared for him. He missed how you often visit their practice and give him first his water bottle instead of Tooru. He missed your playful banter and the way you irritate him by simply joining forces with your brother.

Fuck, he missed you.

And the way he only realized it now made it even worse.

Iwaizumi ran his fingers through his hair out of frustration, and when he saw someone handling him a water bottle, he instantly lifted his head up expecting to see you. Except it wasn't you, it was Tooru.

He mumbled a small "Thanks," before sighing evidently, making Tooru raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Just what happend between you and y/n?"

Seeing the panic on Iwaizumi's expression, Tooru just rolled his eyes. "Don't even try denying it, Iwa-chan. I'm not that stupid, you know? Y/n's basically isolating themselves inside their room as if they're scared that you might visit anytime and you.. your play sucks that even Makki and Matsun noticed it."

"Didn't have to remind me," Iwaizumi grunted.

"Hmm," Tooru pressed a finger to his chin as if he was thinking, eyes slightly widening as he remembered something. "Is it because they finally confessed to you?"

"How did you-"

"Oh it's simple! I heard my dearest sibling practicing their confession several times before you came last Saturday. I didn't expect them to confess that early though. The confession sounded too plain for my liking," Tooru said with a hum.

Iwaizumi could only look at him with parted lips. How come Tooru seemed unbothered by the thought of you confessing? Wasn't he supposed to act like a protective brother?

Noticing the way Iwaizumi was staring at him, Tooru pouted. "What're you looking at, Iwa-chan? You're not thinking of dating me instead, are you?"

"Dumbass. I'm thinking why you seem too relaxed at the idea of your sibling confessing to me," Iwaizumi said, hitting the back of Tooru's head.

"Eh? Why? Did you expect me to go apeshit on you?" Tooru chuckled. "Don't worry Iwa-chan, I completely approve of you dating them! Just don't try to hurt their feelings or I'll be mad for sure!"

"But I already rejected them." Iwaizumi groaned and rested his head against his palm out of frustration.

Tooru, who seemed to gain sympathy at his partner, patted his back and said, "Then we'll just have to do something about it, don't we?"

When you arrived home, the house was eerily quite. The lights were all off making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You knew how much Tooru hated coming home with the lights off so you always made sure to leave it on in case you arrive later than him.

"Tooru?" you called out as you switched the lights on. You surveyed the whole living room and kitchen but your brother was nowhere to be found.

Shrugging your shoulders, you went up to your room and almost screamed at the sight of a man sitting on top of your bed, a bouquet of flowers in hand along with a bunny stuffed toy.

"Why do you always have to scare the shit out of me? I swear one of these days, I'll die of heart attack because of you," you scolded as you closed the door behind you. You discarded your bag on the couch and stood in front of Iwaizumi with your arms crossed over your chest. "What's all this about?"

Scratching the back of his head, Iwaizumi spared a quick glance at your wardrobe before sighing. "They're um... They're for you." He handed you the flowers and the bunny, eyes watching you warily as you smelled the pink roses.

You weren't unaware of what was happening. You always witness these kinds of things but since you were still hurt about what he said, you decided that you wouldn't give in to him that easily.

"Thank you," you answered dryly before placing the roses on top of your study desk.

Iwaizumi cannot help but panic because of this. Have you already decided that you no longer like him? What if you already got yourself a boyfriend? His thoughts started running wild inside his head and it was only when you touched his shoulder that he was brought back to the reality.

"Sorry...I," Iwaizumi fisted his hands on his sides before continuing. "I'm sorry for hurting your feelings, y/n. I didn't want to reject you. I actually like you but I got scared. I mean, you're Oikawa Y/n, my bestfriend's sibling. I didn't want you to think that I was only friends with your brother because I like you. In the end, I hurt you and god knows how stupid I am for doing such thing."

By this time, Iwaizumi's eyes were closed, afraid of looking at your reaction. He was even biting his lips and if not for the seriousness of the moment, you would've took a picture of his adorableness.

"I guess an apologizing Haji, is a cute Haji," you said with a smile making his eyes open.

"Shut up," he said shyly with the tips of his ears turning red. "I'm being serious, you know?"

"And I'm being serious as well. I'm not kidding when I said you're being cute right now," you said, continuing to tease him.

"Y/n."

You giggled at the warning in his tone. "Alright, alright. 'm sorry." You took his hand in yours and gave it a small squeeze before lifting your gaze up to him, all signs of goofiness now vanishing from your face and replaced with honesty and admiration. "I like you too, Haji. I still do."

"Shit." Iwaizumi smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist, his strong arms lifting you off the ground out of happiness.

You squealed as you were lifted and you encircled your arms around his neck to cling to him.

"Gosh, Iwa-chan! My sister said she likes you too and the first thing you say is shit?!" Tooru said as he revealed his presence, his hand rubbing his back at the ache for staying too long in the cramped closet.

You gave Iwaizumi a few taps on his back which he immediately understood. He placed you down and grinned as he watched you taking your brother out of your room by pulling at his ear.

"Ouch, y/n-chan! Iwa-chan, help me!"

Iwaizumi just chuckled as the door infront of him slammed shut, the shouts of Tooru as you hit him bringing a sense of satisfaction to Iwaizumi.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

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lavenderbexlatte · 4 years

Text

holding you like this

stray kids 13.4k words female reader insert Reader x DILF!Hwang Hyunjin EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: original characters (adult f and child f), single father, unhealthy family dynamics, relationship insecurity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink 🖤

🚨🚨 the unhealthy family dynamic warning applies to hyunjin and his parents, NOT hyunjin and his child! there are elements of emotional manipulation and emotional neglect of an adult child by his parents. please don’t read if you would find this content triggering!

connect with me! / masterlist

You prepare yourself for a lot of social what-ifs when you go to the grocery store, but a three-year-old almost taking you out with a headbutt to the knee isn’t usually one of them.

On this particular day, you’re standing in the coffee aisle, scanning the rows of beans, trying to pick between a new roast for your French press, or a new flavor for the automatic drip. You’re not having an easy time of it, either. They all look the same to you. And really, is a French vanilla that different from a caramel swirl? Why are some of these so expensive? They’re all just beans, aren’t they?

The coffee dilemma is taking up all of your conscious focus, so you don’t even hear the tiny footsteps clicking against the industrial tile floor. You don’t see the head of bouncing dark hair, barreling toward you. You don’t notice anything until a tiny body slams right into your leg, and little arms wrap around your knees.

You look down in shock, rocking back to steady yourself so that you don’t topple right over. Your phone nearly slips out of your hand, right onto the head of the very small human peering up at you with big round eyes.

It’s a little girl.

She has glitter extensions and a floor-brushing gown, looking royal and in control right down to the tiny Mary Janes on her feet. She doesn’t look confused or perturbed at all, not even bothered by clinging to a stranger like this. Well, that makes one of you.

“Hello,” the little girl says, her voice high but confident. “What’s your name?”

You tell her, and she nods wisely, in a way that looks incredibly bizarre for someone so young.

“Okay. I’m Minnie,” she says.

“Minnie,” your repeat.

The girl nods, her arms still clamped around your knees. “Like the mouse.”

She points at one of the barrettes clipped into her meticulously styled hair. It’s a flat metal cameo pin of Minnie Mouse, smudged with tiny fingerprints as if she touches it often.

“Cool,” you say awkwardly.

You reach down and gently unwind her arm from around you, freeing yourself, and you kneel down so that you’re at her height. She just looks directly at you, and you can feel the judgmental intelligence behind her gaze. It’s kind of scary.

“I’m three and three-quarters,” she tells you proudly.

“Where’s your grown up?” you ask her.

You don’t really think you’d be much help to this child. You certainly don’t want to have to be responsible for her for too long. Where are her parents, or whoever she came here with?

“My grown up?” she mulls it over, “You mean Daddy. He’s lookin’ at juice.”

“Why aren’t you with him?” you ask.

“Ran away,” she shrugs, “If I run, Daddy chases me.”

“Do you think Daddy likes chasing you?” you ask.

You immediately curse yourself inwardly for asking a preschooler a half-sarcastic question like that. You don’t know this kid from Eden, you can’t just mouth off at her. But Minnie is sharp, and she just smiles at you winningly.

“I dunno. Prob’ly not,” she shrugs again, and you marvel at the big attitude in this small person.

“What if he’s worried about you?”

“Then he should find me,” she answers.

And with that, the kid sits down cross-legged on top of your feet, settling her gown neatly around herself. You’re floored. Apparently, you’ve become the shade tree that this kid is gonna sit under until her poor father finds her. Are all little kids this weird?

You’re not sure what to do. If you move, if you take her and go searching, you could spend all day missing her father at every turn. That means you should probably just stay here and wait for her dad to come to you. At least this way you know the kid’s safe and not running around to meet strangers more dangerous than you.

You get back to your coffee dilemma, as Minnie just sits primly on your feet. It’s not like you could walk away without dislodging her, anyway. And as you pick out a package of coarse-ground beans for your French press, you hear it.

“Minnie!”

An exasperated voice, from the end of the aisle. You turn toward the sound, and the person that you see takes your breath away.

It’s a man, tall and slim, long legs in wide-legged denim. His hair is shoulder-length and blonde, the top half of it held back in a small ponytail at the crown of his head. His face is equal parts angry and relieved, dark thick brows furrowing. The guy is incredibly, distractingly beautiful. You kind of can’t believe it.

“Daddy,” Minnie pipes up, as if confirming it to you.

She leans back against your shins like you’re her personal throne. You look down at her, and then back up at the man as he approaches, dragging a half-full shopping cart behind him.

“I am so sorry,” the man is saying, “She has a mind of her own and sometimes-”

“I made a friend!” Minnie interrupts her father.

The man leans down and scoops his daughter off your feet, plunking her into the basket of his shopping cart.

“You’re in jail, princess,” he tells her curtly.

“I’ll get out,” she replies.

You’re sure that your jaw is actually hanging open several inches as the man turns back to you to continue his rambling apology.

“I really am sorry, um…” he pauses.

“(Y/N),” you fill in for him.

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you dismiss, “She just wanted to talk. And I wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost. More lost.”

The man grins at you sheepishly. “I’m Hyunjin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

“I like her,” Minnie calls from her shopping-cart jail cell, “She’s funny.”

“That’s a high honor,” Hyunjin tells you soberly.

“I’m glad to finally hear that someone thinks I’m funny,” you say.

Hyunjin laughs. He has a nice laugh, sharper and shriller than you would have thought, but full and honest. He looks just like Minnie when he smiles. You’re thoroughly charmed.

“Well,” you say, tugging yourself back to reality, “I have some more shopping to do, so…”

“We’re friends now!” Minnie announces.

Hyunjin glances at his daughter. “You two are friends now?”

“Yes!” the girl insists.

Hyunjin returns his gaze to you. “I guess you’re friends now. Any chance you’re up to see us again sometime?”

“See you again?” you repeat, nonplussed.

“Just for coffee, maybe. A playdate?” Hyunjin’s grin is teasing.

“Doesn’t she have other friends?” you ask, “Friends who are more…three years old?”

“Oh, sure. but Min is an equal-opportunity befriender,” Hyunjin says, “She likes everyone.”

You really don’t know what to make of this precocious little girl who’s just declared you her new friend and her very indulgent but admittedly very attractive father. You might consider that he was hitting on you, except that he’s clearly just bending to the will of his very willful child, and that he’s way, way, way out of your league.

“Sure,” you say, finally.

“Cool.”

Hyunjin pulls out his phone and offers it to you with the keypad open. You enter your number and call yourself, and you save each other’s data into your phones. ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad)’ goes in as your newest contact.

“We’ll text you to make plans!” Hyunjin promises, as he wheels his cart away.

“See you later!” Minnie calls.

She waves furiously at you until the two of them round the corner to the left, toward the checkout counters. You’re left standing there with your package of coffee and butterflies in your stomach.

Just like that, you have a new friend.

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

When you do eventually get a text from the number saved as ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad),’ it’s abundantly clear which of the two is doing the texting.

‘hello!!!!!!’ ‘yo u have to wear’ ‘princess dress!!!!!’

It’s a Thursday afternoon, and you’re at work, sat at your desk overlooking the production floor. Your lunch is just about to end, the boys in assembly below are already getting back to it, and you need to make this quick before your next meeting.

Hyunjin must have helped with the spelling, but that is definitely a message direct from Minnie. You’re debating how exactly to respond to this message, when a call comes in, instead. You answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” The voice on the other end is unmistakable.

“Hi, Minnie,” you say patiently.

“Did you get my text?”

“Of course,” you answer.

“Good. Wear your princess dress,” she says decisively. “Talk to Daddy now.”

The phone clatters loudly like it’s been dropped right on the floor, and you hear a shout in the background. You wince at the noise, but keep the phone pressed to your ear until Hyunjin’s voice replaces his daughter’s.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, “She decided that PJ Masks are more important than this phone call that she DEMANDED I make to invite you for coffee on Saturday.”

“Coffee, huh?” you repeat.

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Hyunjin says.

You can hear real hesitation in his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him, “No, no, I think it’s cute. It’s okay.”

“She just never takes to strangers this fast,” Hyunjin explains, and you can’t quite fathom why that piece of knowledge makes your stomach swoop. “I wanna encourage her to see the world as kind of…safe and fun, y’know? Is that stupid? Like, she shouldn’t just run around with strangers, but she shouldn’t be afraid of the world, either.”

“That makes sense,” you assure him.

“We had a talk about it, I think she understands the difference.”

He’s kind of rambling at you. You wonder how often Hyunjin gets a chance to talk parenting with someone.

“No, really, I understand,” you say, “I’d love to do coffee.”

“Great,” he says, “You can meet us at this café…I’ll send you the address. It’s called Mama Dining.”

You’ve never heard of it, but you trust Minnie’s taste. Hyunjin, you can’t say for sure. But you trust that little girl with more blind conviction than is probably necessary.

“Okay, see you then,” you say.

“Cool.” You can hear Hyunjin’s smile in his voice. “Bye, (Y/N).”

“Bye!” comes Minnie’s voice, far away but loud, and you know that she must be screaming as loud as she can.

You laugh, and you hang up.

--------------- Mama Dining is a small glass-front piece of realty across from a folk medicine shop and underneath a square brick apartment building, a few metro stops away from the area where you live. It’s so stuffed full of potted plants and flowers in vases that there’s barely any surface area for anything else, but it’s clean and bright inside. The tables are mismatched with their chairs, and the whole place smells like coffee and sharp herbs and fresh bread.

It’s homey, that’s the word for it. Cozy, and homey.

You’d taken your pint-sized new friend’s advice to the letter, busting out one of the nice dresses that you save for special occasions. The last time you wore it was to a coworker’s wedding; it’s light and floaty and floral, a long floor-length skirt over a tighter inner slip. It’s the closest thing you have to a princess dress. But it’ll have to do.

You check your reflection in the glass as you pull the door open, bells tinkling above your head. As soon as you step into the café, a little voice shrieks at you.

“YES!”

Minnie is sitting at a table in the corner, in a different gown, her hair in an elaborate braided style, half-up and half-down. She’s looking at you with the utmost approval, and even though she’s a three-year-old, you still feel proud that you’re passing her test.

“A princess dress,” she says, satisfied.

“I tried my best,” you say.

You give a silly little spin on the spot, so that your skirt stands out for her, and behind you, someone laughs. You freeze, cheeks heating up.

“You look nice.”

It’s Hyunjin, because of course it is. You turn around to see him in casual jeans and a long sleeve tee, an apron tied around his waist. His hair is pulled back again, off his face. He’s gorgeous. But it kind of looks like…

“Do you work here?” you ask.

Hyunjin nods. “Easiest place to meet up is here, while I’m on shift. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him.

“I’ll get you a coffee,” he says, “What do you like?”

You tell him your regular order, and he heads to the espresso machine to start it up.

“Oh,” he calls, over the sound of the grinder, “And if Judy comes in while you’re here, I’m sorry in advance.”

Judy? Your stomach does an awkward flip at the idea of him inviting you here if he has a girlfriend, or a wife. You don’t think you’ve seen a wedding ring on him, but…

Oh, well. Nothing you can do, at this point. You’re here for the kid, anyway, aren’t you?

You go over to the table where Minnie has set up camp, propped in a booster seat to reach the tabletop. She has a coloring book and a pack of glitter crayons in front of her, and you pull up the second chair to join her. Minnie stares at you for second, her cute upturned eyes so much like her father’s, and then she opens up her coloring book, flipping the pages as carefully as she can.

When she finds what she wants, she sets the book down and rips the page out. It’s a picture of a teacup and saucer on a table, with a pitcher of flowers behind it.

“This is yours,” she says, with the utmost seriousness.

“Okay,” you say, matching her tone, “Can I use your crayons? I didn’t bring mine.”

You kind of expect a kid as serious and assertive as her to be careful about her possessions, but Minnie just upends the crayon box onto the table.

“Yep,” she says.

She grabs a lilac color and dives right into her own coloring page: a dressing table covered in cosmetics and trinkets. You select a red crayon from the pile and join her, filling in the delicate pattern on your teacup.

You can’t explain why it doesn’t feel like babysitting, but it doesn’t. It feels more like…coexisting. Like this preschooler really is just happy to have your company.

What a weird kid.

Hyunjin comes over after a moment with your coffee. The café is empty aside from you three, so he sits down at the table with you, placing the cup with your drink down beside the precarious pile of crayons.

“Daddy can’t color,” the kid tells you.

“Really?” you ask, looking up at Hyunjin wryly.

Hyunjin raises his hands as if in defeat, “My talents lie in performing arts, not studio arts. Unlike this renaissance child, who can do it all.”

It’s obvious that Hyunjin adores his daughter. You can see it in his eyes as he watches her scrub her crayons across the picture, in the way he talks about her. You’re not around kids a lot, but you can tell that this little girl has a lot of love in her life. That’s probably why she’s so bold; outgoing, kind, and well-adjusted kids are usually well-loved kids.

You smile to yourself as you keep coloring, switching the red for a grey. And after a while, you’re aware of Hyunjin’s watching gaze focused not on his daughter, but on you.

Embarrassed by the attention, you look up and meet his eye. He’s just watching you, with a lopsided smile that shows all of his teeth and crinkly smiling eyes that emphasize the little mole under his bottom eyelid on one side.

“What?” you ask.

He gives himself a little shake.

“Sorry,” he says.

It seems like all he does is apologize to you when he’s done nothing wrong at all.

“I was just thinking, it’s really sweet that you’re here,” he admits.

“Sweet?” you ask.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. How many people do you know who would come across town just to hang out with a little kid?”

You take a sip of the coffee. It’s perfect. Maybe the best you’ve ever had. Is he even real?

“Well, she’s like the coolest person I’ve ever met,” you say, “Regardless of age.”

“Yeah, she is,” Hyunjin says fondly.

“I’m cool,” Minnie agrees.

The doors of the café open softly, and you and Hyunjin turn around simultaneously to see a young couple, maybe college students, seating themselves and talking softly. Hyunjin excuses himself to go help them, and you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

What are you even doing here?

Did you agree to come on this very strange playdate because you were so taken by a strange child that you felt the need to keep a promise you made to her? Or, on some level, did you just want to see Hyunjin again? Neither answer is particularly good. Or sane.

“You and Daddy can be friends, too.”

Your head snaps up when you realize you’d being addressed, and you regard Minnie. “What?”

“You and Daddy can be friends. You’re my friend, but Daddy, too.”

You hum, as if you’re really puzzling it over, when in reality you’re about to collapse from the embarrassment of this child inadvertently setting you up with her dad. Or maybe advertently. You have no idea how smart she actually is.

“How does it look?” you ask instead, holding up your drawing.

Minnie puts down her crayon and scrutinizes your picture as if she’s a museum collections pro scouting for art.

“Do pink flowers,” she says eventually, and she returns to her own drawing with the same intensity.

“Good idea,” you say.

You pick out a rosy pink color and try to will all your nerves about Hyunjin away. He’s just a new friend. The father of you new littlest friend. You can’t make this weird just because he’s good-looking. Hyunjin himself has vanished into the back kitchen, tucked away to prepare something. You can hear a stove going, cutlery clattering.

The café door opens again as you’re idly listening to the sounds of the kitchen. This time, it’s a middle-aged woman with a long black ponytail and a practical, motherly outfit. She greets the young couple cheerfully, and then she sets her eyes on you.

“My Min!” the lady coos, and Minnie looks up from her drawing.

“Hi. I’m coloring.”

“I can see that,” the lady says, coming up closer to lean on the table next to your casually, “And who is this?”

“(Y/N),” Minnie answers.

“I see.”

The woman is smiling, but her eyes are regarding you coolly, as if she’s sizing you up. You just offer her a nervous smile, unsure who this is or why she knows the kid.

Hyunjin emerges from the kitchen then, timing perfect, a plate holding a large grilled sandwich in hand.

“Oh, hey, Judy,” he says, on his way past to give the couple their lunch.

Judy? This is the Judy that he mentioned earlier? Not to be ageist, you think, but she seems too old to be Hyunjin’s partner. But romantic relationship or not, you can understand why he apologized on her behalf; she’s already giving you incredibly intense vibes.

“(Y/N)’s picture goes on the wall with mine, okay, Judy?” Minnie says suddenly.

“Sounds like a plan,” Judy agrees, “Now, is someone going to tell me who this young lady is?”

Moving very quickly and pretending that he’s not, Hyunjin rejoins the three of you over in your corner, setting a comforting hand on Judy’s shoulder. You can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it as a means of subtly holding her back.

“Min made friends with her at the store the other day after one of her famous mad dashes,” Hyunjin says. “And we figured the polite thing to do after that would be to invite her for a cup of coffee.”

“I see,” Judy says.

Her face softens at Hyunjin’s words, even though she’s still looking you over quizzically, like she can’t decide how to feel about you being there.

“Well, welcome,” she says, finally, “I’m Judy. This is my café.”

She extends her hand to shake, and you take it. Her hand is slim and pretty, heavy with a few jeweled rings and slightly roughened on the fingertips from hard work.

“She takes care of us,” Minnie pipes up.

“I try to,” Judy agrees. “They need all the help they can get.”

“I resent that!” Hyunjin says.

“But really, I just use this pretty face to attract customers,” Judy continues, waving a hand at Hyunjin.

He squawks his outrage, and you can’t help the smile that creeps over your face.

“The teens see this face and they come right in. It’s like magic,” Judy says, as if she’s being purposefully oblivious to how much she’s embarrassing him.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” you say.

And you mean it, too. Hyunjin obviously has an unconventional support system going on, with this woman who he introduced by her first name and not by her relation to him. It leads you to believe they’re not blood-related or anything. It doesn’t really matter, though. She seems nice, if not a little protective.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Judy says, with such heavy finality that you feel as though you’ve just cleared a hurdle.

And from the way Hyunjin’s whole body perks up at her words, maybe you have. Why do you get the feeling that this was the equivalent of a meeting-the-parents moment?

As quickly as the atmosphere had heightened, it settles back to the lazy calm it was before. Judy pats Minnie’s head fondly and disappears into the back of the café, not to reappear. Hyunjin returns to his work, and you take back up the task of neatly filling in the coloring page, careful not to upstage your tiny host and her not-quite-developed motor skills.

It’s a slow afternoon.

The young couple eats their lunch across the room, adding only a quiet hum of activity to your surroundings. Minnie tells you stories while you work, regaling you with the deep inner workings of preschooler life.

“Their names are Sage and Ginger!” she’s saying happily.

You haven’t been listening closely enough, clearly, because you’re stumped. “Whose names?”

“The babies!”

“What babies?”

“From Blue’s Clues & You,” she huffs.

Oh. You vaguely remember the original Blue’s Clues show, but you can’t say you know exactly what she’s talking about. Is she talking about…the sentient salt and pepper shakers? Do they have babies? Why do they have babies?!

“That’s cool,” you say, with level enthusiasm.

Minnie looks at you flatly, but accepts your words with a nod. “They’re cute. So little!”

It goes on like that, bits of kids’ programming trivia and input on your crayon color choices. The couple leaves, and you can see Hyunjin zeroing back in on you as he lets them out with a wave and a call to come back soon.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

You pick up your drawing, for him to see. You’ve been finished with it for a while now (it’s a children’s coloring book, so it’s not all that intricate) but you don’t want to appear unengaged, so you’ve been going over your lines and blurring out the crayon marks. His eyes crinkle up with joy at the sight of it.

“Done!” Minnie announces.

She brandishes her own drawing, too, and Hyunjin beams at the two of you with equal pride.

“Can I put these up?” he asks.

“Together,” says Minnie.

“You got it.”

He takes both rough-edged pages and whisks them away to the counter. Behind the register, on an expanse of wall, there’s a collection of doodles and coloring pages that you hadn’t noticed when you walked in. They must all be Minnie’s; the bold coloring strokes are all the same, her heavy hand immortalized in wax and marker and glitter pen.

Hyunjin tacks up the pictures side by side on the wall.

It’s the tiniest gesture in the world, really. You can’t even count how many scraps of paper, how many school notebooks and work memos that you’ve scribbled on over the course of your life. You’ve colored kids’ menus at restaurants, done detailed adult coloring books at mixers. Somehow, this one ragged coloring page tacked to the wall of a café seems like a turning point in your life.

You wonder when you got so sentimental. It’s silly, but it’s there; warm happiness in your chest.

When Minnie begins to wilt, saying in not so many words that she’s getting tired, you know that your playdate time is coming to an end. It’s only been an hour and a half, maybe two, but that’s an awful long time to keep such a young kid occupied on one activity. You’re proud of yourself, honestly.

“She’ll go down for a nap soon, before dinner,” Hyunjin tells you softly, “You can head out if you want. I don’t wanna monopolize your day.”

“I think I will,” you agree.

It’s been a nice time, but you’re not one to overstay your welcome.

You say goodbye to Minnie, who insists on giving you another crushing full-body hug, and you make it all the way to the door before you realize Hyunjin is following you.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Walking you out,” he replies.

“I’m just going to my subway stop.”

“Then let me walk you to it,” he says.

You struggle to hold back your smile at his easy grace. “Okay, sure.”

The two of you set out into the afternoon, side by side, for the short walk from this inner part of the neighborhood to the metro stop that will take you back home. The breeze tugs at your skirt and ruffles Hyunjin’s apron, and you can’t help but sneak sidelong peeks at him as you walk.

“I hope Judy didn’t scare you too much,” he says.

“She’s intense. But I can tell that it’s out of love,” you reply.

He laughs at that, and you continue your slow meander down the unlined streets.

“She’s like an adoptive mom to me,” Hyunjin tells you. “I’m lucky to have her.”

“Oh,” you say, curious but knowing that you shouldn’t ask.

The two of you walk a while longer in your quiet bubble, but eventually, Hyunjin sighs.

“I don’t talk to my parents,” he says, “It’s not that crazy. Just how it is.”

“You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want, I understand.”

“And now I’m oversharing. Sorry,” he winces.

You shake your head, “It’s not a bother, I just won’t pry.”

Hyunjin considers this, and nods. “It’s just me and Min, so Judy’s been a livesaver. Mom and auntie and grandma all in one.”

Just him and Min, which means no wife and no serious girlfriend. That makes you feel a bit better. You’d hate to get in the way of a serious relationship, even indirectly. Minnie is a nice kid, and you like her, but you’re not her nanny or her babysitter or anything. You’d hate to be that kind of person, shoving yourself into a family where you have no business being.

“But…I wanted to know…would you wanna hang out again?” Hyunjin asks.

You laugh gently. “For Min? I’d walk into traffic. Yes, I’ll hang out again.”

“Not with Min,” Hyunjin says, voice soft and hesitant. “With me.”

The word that falls out of your mouth before you can stop it is, “Why?”

Hyunjin snorts, and then breaks out laughing, harder than you’ve ever heard him laugh.

“Because I think you’re cool?” he says eventually. “You’re cute and you like my kid, which is more than I can say about ninety percent of the people I meet.”

This was not part of the plan. Not that you had a plan, but come on. You were here to hang out with a super weird toddler, to entertain a precocious little girl because it’s cute and fun, not to be asked out by her dad. Her gorgeous dad, who’s so out of your league that it makes your head spin.

You spare a thought to wonder if he’s playing a prank on you.

“Unless…” Hyunjin draws away from you (when did he get so close?), “Unless you’re already seeing someone? God, I didn’t even think – I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, you cut in quickly, “No, I’m not-”

“Am I being weird? I’m being weird,” he laughs, and he almost sounds…nervous?

“You’re not being weird,” you assure him, “You just surprised me. I didn’t think…”

“Then you’ll go out with me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, surprising yourself, “Yeah. I will.”

Hyunjin’s smile is the fucking sun coming up. It warms you right down to your toes.

“I’ll call you,” he promises, “I’ll call and we can make plans.”

“Okay,” you agree.

The dimly-glowing sign marking the subway entrance looms ahead, and Hyunjin falls back, as you approach the down escalator.

“I’ll call you!” he says, again.

You wave as you go down the escalator, and once he’s out of sight, you practically melt. You have no idea why life is throwing you this curveball, but you’re not complaining.

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

True to form, it’s Minnie who calls you some days later. Not Hyunjin, the adult who presumably has control over the phone and has to dial the call. No, it’s the toddler whose voice filters over the line, the toddler who is undeniably and ultimately in control of her father’s whole world.

“Hi, (Y/N)!”

“Are you supposed to be making calls?” you tease.

“It’s okay, I have a mission,” she tells you.

“A secret mission?”

“Maybe…” Minnie’s voice pulls away from the phone, and you can hear her shout, “Daddy! Is it a secret mission?!”

Hyunjin’s voice calls something in reply, and then Minnie returns.

“Yeah, a secret mission,” she says.

“What’s your mission?”

“We gotta know, do you like Japan food or Italy food better?”

“Hmmm,” you think out loud, “I think I just like food.”

“Me too,” Minnie agrees, “I just like food.”

There’s another shout from Hyunjin that you can’t make out.

“Daddy says it’s gonna be a s’prise, then,” Minnie reports.

“Surprises are fun,” you say.

“It’s okay?” she asks.

“It’s okay,” you confirm.

“Okay! I gotta go. Talk to you later!”

Minnie hangs up, and you burst out laughing so hard that tears pool at the corners of your eyes. She manages to make it sound like she has a high-powered meeting that you’re keeping her from. How does she hide all of that thirty-five-year-old boss energy in her cute little self?

But more important than the absurd circumstance of the call is the outcome. You’re going on a real date. With Hyunjin. You try to pretend that a whole swarm of butterflies haven’t hatched in your gut.

You have a date with Hyunjin.

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

The date goes well.

It goes incredibly well, in fact. If you thought Hyunjin was pretty and charming when he was in more domestic setting, with his kid and at his job, that was nothing compared to fully-focused-grownup Hyunjin on a date.

He dresses well, he’s funny and he’s gentle, he nearly cries because the dish you order to share is too spicy for him. He’s got all the puppylike charm of the young man that he is, and this underlying tired seriousness of the doting single father that he is.

You argue with him until he lets you split the bill for the meal, and he gives you a gentle kiss on the lips when he leaves you at your subway stop. It’s like a fairytale.

So you go out again, and again, and again, still. Sometimes it’s barbeque in your neighborhood, at an outdoor restaurant with great side dishes handmade by the older couple who own the place. Sometimes it’s just coffee and a long chat at a 24-hour café. You haven’t been to his home, yet, and he hasn’t been to yours, but it’s refreshing to just take things slowly with him, when the rest of life moves so fast.

Underneath the fun of being with Hyunjin, though, is the doubt.

Everything you see makes you more and more certain that he’s not a real person. He’s a dating sim come to life. He’s so good-looking that teenage girls stop to whisper and giggle about him, and passing aunties give him bold compliments. Dogs like him, service staff like him, little kids like him. And you understand it; you like him tremendously.

You’re not entirely sure why he likes you, though. Compared to him, you’re kind of reserved, kind of plain. It’s not that you don’t like yourself, but you’re a cottage to Hyunjin’s skyscraper, a woodwick candle to his disco ball. Just different realms entirely.

It doesn’t matter, you suppose, because regardless of his motivation or your understanding, you’re spending more and more time with Hyunjin, and Minnie.

You learn that it’s Hyunjin who does her hair every day, creating looks with pins and braids and tiny ponytails. He grew out his own hair to the length it is now to practice on, he tells you one day. You learn that Minnie only likes crunchy vegetables, raw carrots and the stems of lettuce, and that she can inexplicably eat much spicier food that her father can.

You’re comfortable being part of the mundane. But Hyunjin seems to have different aspirations for the two of you, in your casual and fluid relationship, still without titles or formalities.

“I want to take you somewhere nice.”

You glance up from your laptop, blinking to get the fuzziness out of your vision at you look at Hyunjin where he leans over the prep counter. It’s a weekend, but you have a pile of leftover work to get through before Monday, so you’ve set up camp at the café for the afternoon. Hyunjin is on shift, and he’s been slinging you snacks and coffees between customers. It’s been just the two of you, work obligations notwithstanding, and it’s been…domestic.

“This isn’t nice enough?” you quip.

“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes, “Like a real date.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying the first half dozen dates weren’t real?”

Hyunjin sticks out his thick lower lip in a pout. “What happened to the shy awkward person I met at the store? Bring her back, please, this (Y/N) is mean to me!”

You laugh. “Where did you want to go?”

“There’s this place I haven’t been to in years. It’s really nice, my aunt used to take us back when family outings were more my thing,” he says.

“Sounds okay,” you decide.

“You’d have to dress up,” he warns, “Like, for real. I’ll have to dig out a suit.”

“That’s fine.”

You turn your attention back to your laptop, trying to hide your flustered face at the idea of Hyunjin cleaning up extra nice for you, Hyunjin in a fitted suit and shined shoes. He might notice it anyway, though, if the smile that lights up his face as he turns back to the kitchen is any hint.

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

It’s decided that Hyunjin will pick you up from work and drive the two of you to your first fancy date. So that morning, you hitched a ride with a coworker so as not to strand your car at the office overnight, carrying your change of clothes in a bag. The downside of that was having to explain to your coworker what necessitated the change, and your team quickly found out that you have a date. The teasing hasn’t stopped all day, good-natured ribbing all during your shift, about stoic, shy supervisor (Y/N) going on a hot date with a mystery man.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your office’s nice bathroom, the one reserved for visitors who can’t pee with the staff. The one with potpourri on the counters and immaculate tile floors. You’ve gone for a menswear look yourself, wide-legged slacks and a silky blouse, and heels. Hyunjin’s already seen you in a nice dress, you figure, and besides, clinging to the businesswear that you already don at work gives you just a bit more nerve.

Somehow, a date at a nice restaurant that holds some sentimental value for him is more serious than anything you’ve ever done, more intimate than splitting cakes at the café and watching Minnie force the other kids to take turns on the slide at the playground.

You adjust your French tuck just a bit, make sure that your necklace hangs neatly, and deem yourself as good as you’re gonna get. You walk out of the bathroom, bag now holding your work clothes tucked under your arm, only to see a whole group of your production team boys waiting for you.

The company where you work is a decently large tech manufacturing plant, and as a production manager, you oversee a team of techs and assembly workers who tend to be on the younger side, and much more often are young men close to your age. They’re all nice boys who you’re quite close to, but they’ve already been on your case all day. Several of them are right here in the hall, now, ready to make fun of you the way that annoying little brothers are meant to do.

“Jeez, (Y/N), out for blood,” says Taehyun, his silica filter mask hanging off one ear.

“Don’t be gross,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“It’s true, you’re really going all out for this date, huh?” adds Jeongin.

“Quit it before I vom and then report you all to HR,” you say.

“Oh, come on,” says Taehyun, “I’ve worked for you for like two years and I’ve never seen you have fun on purpose before.”

“That can’t be true,” you argue, walking toward the front of the building with your little line of assembly-boy ducklings following behind.

“On your birthday, you asked us to get you a firm handshake and a new set of pages for your planner,” Jeongin deadpans.

“You’re Ron Swanson with tits,” Jaemin says.

“Charming,” you glance at him, and he shrugs.

“It’s true.”

Car headlights shine in the picture windows that span the front of your building, and you can make out a small red car sitting in the visitor’s parking right by the door.

“Please don’t embarrass me,” you implore the boys, as you haul open the heavy glass door to let yourself out.

“We would never do that,” Jeongin says, defensive.

“Maybe we should talk to your date, though,” Jaemin suggests, “Rough him up a little.”

“Yeah, please don’t ever do that,” you say, “I’m leaving now.”

The driver’s side window is rolled down, and you can see Hyunjin leaning out, waving to you. You walk around to the passenger’s side of the car as fast as you can, giving your stupid underlings as little time as possible to ruin things.

You slide into the seat and slam the door behind you right as you hear one of the boys yell, “GET HER HOME SAFE. BY TEN.”

“Oh my God, go, drive away,” you groan.

“Who are they?” Hyunjin asks, amused, as he backs out of the parking spot.

“They work for me,” you say. “They wanna intimidate you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“They must really like you,” he says.

“No, they just really like being annoying.”

Hyunjin laughs, glancing at you as he maneuvers onto the main road.

“You look really great,” he says, sounding a little bit shy.

“Thanks.”

“The restaurant isn’t far,” Hyunjin says, “But I wanted to look cool and drive you.”

“I already think you’re cool,” you tease.

“Well if you’d told me that before, we could have called a cab,” he says.

“Nah, I wanted to see your car,” you say, turning around in your seat to get a full view of the interior, “Big pink carseat and all.”

“Min’s constantly telling me to just get a pink car to match,” Hyunjin says, “I don’t know if I could pull that off, though.”

“With your good looks and princess hair? I think you could.”

“Good to know. Next car, pink,” he says.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying about the restaurant being close by, because the whole drive is less than fifteen minutes. You’ve barely relaxed when he pulls up to the street parking outside a modest building with a pretty marquee and rough brick siding.

“This is it?” you ask, peeking out at the building.

“Yep.”

You scrutinize the restaurant as two of you get out of the car, and you can tell instantly that it’s an upscale place. Everything from the valet in front to the fabric of the curtains reeks of steaks that cost a paycheck and truffles in every possible dish. You’re kind of excited for it.

The maître-d greets you warmly, and brings you to a table against the window, with a view into a small back garden full of lanterns and lit trellises. The table itself is a delicate wooden thing, with full-course silverware and origami napkins. Candles dance on the tabletop, a single red rose in a vase brightening the whites and silvers of it all.

Hyunjin must know a thing or two about romance, because you’re properly wowed. It’s so stereotypically wonderful, it makes for a great sixth-or-seventh date. You’ve known him long enough that you know he’s not trying to blindly impress you, but just to treat you.

You wonder what kind of family he has, that they would bring him to a place like this as a kid or a teenager.

When the waitress, a pretty young woman in server’s blacks, comes over, the two of you order from the set menu and argue only a little about what dishes to taste and what wine to have.

“They’re barely Brussels sprouts,” you’re saying, “They’re covered in oil and bacon and shit.”

“They’re green vegetables,” he counters.

“They’re gourmet, don’t be a baby.”

Starters come and quickly disappear.

The main course comes, and by this point, you’re a glass or so of wine deep, and Hyunjin is only looking more and more handsome, as your stomach starts to be comfortably filled and the drinks warm you up from the inside.

Hyunjin’s gazing at you between bites of his dinner, expression so soft that you wonder if he’s gonna lean right across the table to kiss you. It’s tender, it’s lovely, and it’s unlike any other date you’ve ever had.

But a woman’s shrill, furious voice shatters the entire atmosphere with a single sharpened word.

“Hyunjin?!”

It’s almost comical, the way Hyunjin freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, eyes wide and startled. It’s only almost comical, because this emotion seems to be very real fear on his part. He keeps his eyes on his plate, but you look toward the sound.

There’s a woman approaching your table, thin and elegant and beautiful. She’s got only the faintest age lines on her perfectly made-up face, and her clothes are designer, a plum-colored dress that brushes her knees and a handbag worth more than your whole closet. She doesn’t even spare you a glance, zeroing in on Hyunjin as she comes to stand right beside the table, puffed up in self-righteous anger like a provoked bird.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” she barks.

Hyunjin turns his head so slowly that you wonder if he’s even moving at all, until finally he’s looking at her.

“Of all the places – what on EARTH are you doing?!” she asks him, tone stiff and angry.

It’s the kind of tone that you can imagine her using to yell at waitstaff, or berate the hotel bellhop. She’s that kind of wealthy, you can just tell. You’ve been dodging people like this your whole adult life, working your way up in the tech field, littered with its new and old money. You glance at Hyunjin, but the urgency in his face tells you to hold your tongue.

“I’m eating,” he says finally.

“Your aunt told me you were still in the city,” she says, “I can’t IMAGINE what you’ve been up to that you haven’t had time to even call, the nerve-”

“Mother,” Hyunjin says evenly, “You’re interrupting a nice time.

Mother. This is Hyunjin’s mother?

As if she’s just noticed that you’re there, she rounds on you. “And who is this?”

The disgust in her voice makes your stomach twist unpleasantly. It’s been a long while since someone has been so openly dismissive of you. Not since you were a student, you think, but God does it hurt.

“This is my date,” Hyunjin answers.

His words are clipped, like he really doesn’t want to say more.

“Well, obviously,” his mother sniffs, condescending, “What is her NAME?”

“You don’t get to know that,” Hyunjin says.

You know that Hyunjin is distant with his parents. He’s mentioned that they don’t talk anymore, and that they don’t really know his daughter at all. But it speaks volumes that he doesn’t even want his mother to know your name.

“And where did you meet this shining example of gilt wood pretending to be gold?” she asks, “The community center? The food bank?”

“There’s no need to be mean,” Hyunjin says, much more calmly than you would be able to, “We’re trying to have dinner. You should leave.”

“I’ve finished my meal. I’m on my way out,” his mother says haughtily, “But I saw you and I needed to come say something.

“No, don’t let us keep you,” Hyunjin says, gesturing toward the exit with his still-full fork.

“Hyunjin, when are you going to give up this ridiculous act and come back to make things right?” she asks, and though the tone is sincere, there’s no warmth behind it.

“Never,” he replies, “Things are just the way I want them.”

This woman, in her all finery and dignified air, stamps her foot on the ground like a child having a tantrum.

“You’re making a mockery of our family, you know that, yes?” she asks.

“You’re the one yelling at me and embarrassing yourself in a restaurant full of people,” Hyunjin points out.

“You are an aggravating and ungrateful child,” his mother hisses.

“Maybe,” Hyunjin agrees, “But I’m happy.”

Perhaps sensing that she’s starting to make a scene, his mother glances around at the other patrons, who are trying to hide the way they’re listening in with varying levels of success. Your waitress is lingering by the edge of the service floor, eyes glued on the scene.

“You’ll come to your senses,” she promises darkly. “And you’ll come begging for my help. We’ll see if I take pity on you then.”

And with that, she turns around and stalks toward the exit, not even pausing as she barks at the valet to bring her ride around. You watch until she’s outside and out of sight, and then you focus on Hyunjin.

His hands are shaking so badly that his fork clatters against his plate. You reach out and cover his hand with yours, easing the fork out of his grip and laying it down. You feel horrible, and kind of sick, but you know that between the two of you, Hyunjin is worse, so you have to push that discomfort down, just for a while.

“Let’s finish our dinner, okay?” you say, “And then we can talk about this.”

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

The rest of the date isn’t agonizing, but it is uncomfortable. You chat, and joke, albeit without the same easy grace as before. Seeing his mother, and having her speak to both of you that way has really seemed to rattle Hyunjin more than a confrontation usually would.

You settle the tab, splitting it like you always do, and then you find yourselves on a bench outside the restaurant, set away from the main road. It’s dark, and it’s chilly, but it’s comfortable with the gentle atmospheric music from the restaurant marquee and the sounds of traffic.

“Min’s mom wasn’t ready for a baby.”

You glance at Hyunjin at the sound of his voice. He’s fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer, still looking distinctly unsettled.

“Neither of us were,” he amends.

“Was she a hookup?” you ask.

“A girlfriend,” he says, “But not…she was just a girl from a good family. Someone my parents thought would be a good match, so we dated for a long time.”

“A good match,” you repeat, “A good match for you?”

“A good match for the family,” he says bitterly.

“What does that matter?”

“Oh, it matters. Way more than what I want,” he says.

“They’re really rich, aren’t they?” you ask, thinking about his mother’s clothes, and her attitude, and pretty much everything about her, “Your parents, I mean.”

“Disgustingly rich.”

“Oh.”

“She’s a really nice girl, a good person. But she really didn’t want to be with me forever, and she certainly didn’t want a kid,” Hyunjin says.

“So what happened?” you ask.

“She broke things off when she got pregnant, which made both of our families pissed beyond belief. The proper thing to do would have been to get married, right? But instead she ended the relationship, and moved home,” Hyunjin says, “They took care of Min for like a year and a half, her parents and a nanny.”

“Not the mom?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “She just didn’t want a kid. Which is okay, more than okay. Our parents were the ones who wanted to keep the pregnancy, not her. I just wanted everyone to stop fighting.”

You just nod. Hyunjin is keeping this story so purposefully vague, not dropping names or placing blame or really showing any anger. You wonder how much time he’s spent thinking about this story, or telling it in different ways. He seems almost desensitized to it all.

“When Min was almost two, her mom asked if I would take on full custody so she could sign away her parental rights and be out of the picture for good. And I figured,” Hyunjin laughs bitterly, “I figured, better to have one parent that loves you the most than two while one is half-assing it.”

“No, I can see that,” you say.

“Minnie lived with me at my parents’ house until they realized that my ex was never coming back. They always figured we’d get back together.”

“Why?!” you ask, incredulous.

Hyunjin looks at you. “Because that would be the dutiful thing to do. Get married, stay together for the kid, avoid any embarrassing attention on the families.”

“Even if that meant you were both miserable forever?”

Hyunjin turns his gaze back at the ground, sighing. “My parents said they wouldn’t support me if I couldn’t even do that one thing right and convince my ex to do right by the families and marry me. But I wasn’t gonna force her. She’s a good person. just in over her head, and scared. And I can’t blame her for that. I can’t forgive her. But I understand.”

“So, what, they kicked you out?”

“Kicked me out, cut me off,” Hyunjin nods. “I used to be set for life, with their money to back me up. I could have fucked around forever, lived comfy. They took it all away because I wouldn’t marry a girl who didn’t love me and just wanted to live her own life.”

“You’re a good person,” you say.

“It was an easy choice,” he quips, some of his usual humor returning now that he’s gotten the stress of his story out of his mind, “Either my parents, who only love me conditionally, or my daughter, who loves the biggest and best out of anyone ever.”

You laugh, but you can’t shake the new strange feeling that has settled over you, now that you know all of this about him. Knowing that Hyunjin is the rejected son of a wealthy family, a silver-spoon kid with a heart of gold. It only validates some of those nagging feelings that in some unavoidable way, Hyunjin is far, far too good for you.

He’s given up a life of luxury and security for his daughter, and his freedom. You’re not about to make him compromise on anything else, ever. At all.

“Min doesn’t even miss any of them,” Hyunjin says thoughtfully, “Doesn’t even ask.”

“That’s good, I guess,” you say.

He shrugs. “Means that she’s not too fucked up from bouncing around like that as a baby, which is a fuckin’ blessing.”

“She’s safe and happy with you now, though,” you say.

Hyunjin grins at you. “But you know who’s been a great parent influence on her?”

“Who?”

“You.”

You laugh. “I’m no parent, trust me.”

“I dunno, you’re pretty great with her,” he says airily, “I don’t trust my kid with just anyone.”

“You gotta stop being so nice to me,” you say. “You’re gonna give me ideas.”

“Ideas like what? Afraid I’ll wanna take you out on a date? Introduce you to my kid? Oh wait-”

“Shut up!” you whine, nudging him. “I just…can’t believe you like me, sometimes. Like, that you really like me, like this.”

“Of course, I like you,” Hyunjin says, dumbfounded, “We’ve been going out for weeks.”

“Yeah, and that only started because Min told you that she wanted to be friends with me.”

“Did you really think that I got your number that day because I wanted you to be friends with my three-year-old?” Hyunjin asks.

“Yes!” you answer, totally honest, “Yes, I did. I think that you would do anything in the world for that kid, even something stupid like inviting me out.”

You stand up, suddenly needing some space, some air that isn’t warm from Hyunjin’s presence by your side or scented with his soft cologne. He just watches as you pace a few short steps away from the bench.

“It was maybe twenty percent because she was being so cute with you,” he says desperately, “But the other eighty percent was for me.”

You can’t believe that. Sure, part of you hoped for it, because it’s truly so insane to just let your preschooler make friends with random women in public. It makes sense for him to have an ulterior motive. You’d hoped that it was really him who was interested, even if he just intended to hook up with you and then cut it off.

It’s beyond obvious to you that you’ve fallen hard for Hyunjin, even in just this short time. The idea of him feeling anything like that for you is much harder to fathom.

“I know you care about me, at least a little,” Hyunjin says, standing up to join you, “At least, I hope you do. Something, some chance that you like me as more than a friend, or a casual date…”

“I do,” you say, voice strangled and tiny, “But you…you’re-”

“I’m what? I’m a father already? I have too much baggage for you?”

Your heart breaks a little bit more as he says that, as you imagine other people in the past dumping him with those exact words. The conviction in his voice is all that you need to picture it; a different person, a different night, the same outcome.

“No!” you insist.

“Then what?”

You bite the bullet, and you say it. “Because you’re beautiful, Hyunjin. You’re perfect. You have a wonderful kid and a nice life that you’ve built for her and yourself after all of that shit you went through. You…you’re too good for me.”

Hyunjin recoils like he’s been slapped. “How can you think that?”

“I just look at your life, and I can’t possibly picture you moving things around just to fit me in,” you say.

“How can you think that there’s not already space for you?! Can’t you see that you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time?” he asks.

“Because I’m…” you struggle, “I’m boring, Hyunjin, I don’t know! I’m not worth changing for.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffs. “You’re letting my mother get to you, which is just what she wants.”

“Then I’m just not right for you,” you say, trying to ignore his comment about his mother and how absolutely right it is. “You have this cute little picturesque life, and I have my normal job and my hobbies and my family and friends and I would just…be in the way.”

“You’re not in the way now,” Hyunjin says.

“We’re not a serious couple now!”

“Why can’t you just let me like you?!”

He’s practically yelling now, keeping his distance and nearly folding in on himself as he looks at you with eyes that are far too shiny. It’s not the yelling that gets to you, but what he’s saying.

“Because it’s scary!” you yell back. “I don’t want to lose you, or your kid, but I know that-”

“I can show you,” he pleads.

He draws in a little closer, like he’s afraid he’s going to spook you. Against your stubborn brain’s protests, you reach out to thread your fingers with his.

You don’t want to lose him.

But as disgusting and cliché and self-deprecating as it is, you just can’t fathom someone like him wanting to be with someone like you.

Hyunjin leans more fully into your gentle grasp, pulls you right up close to him so that the two of you are toe to toe, there on the street outside the restaurant, as cars pass by and streetlights cast their dim yellow light over it all. He’s looking right into your eyes, expression firm and warm and so, so Hyunjin. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you scan his face for nervousness or insincerity, and find none.

He’s looking at you the way he looks at Minnie when she falls asleep on the couch watching Frozen 2 for the millionth time. The way he looks at Judy when her back is turned in the café.

“I’ll show you that I mean it,” he says again, “I’ll be here for you. I’ll support you the way that you’ve supported us. I’ll love-”

He can’t get to the end of that sentence, because you wrench your free arm around his neck and pull him down to kiss you. He startles, lets go of your hand, and you freeze, thinking you’ve miscalculated the situation and gone too far. But he recovers quickly, wrapping both arms around your waist. He adjusts you so that you’re flush against him, and kisses back, harder.

His plush lips are wine-sour and soft, and he molds them against yours like he’s starving for it.

“My place,” he says, pulling back just the slightest bit so he can speak, “My place.”

“But-”

“Min is at Judy’s for the night,” he says, “Please.”

You want to. You want to so badly that your head is spinning, that your heart is beating out a rhythm against your ribcage. He’s here in front of you, wrapped up in you, so handsome and so unattainable…

Well. You think that Hyunjin is making a mistake. But if he’s gonna make it, you’re gonna enjoy every minute of it.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“Okay, or yes?” Hyunjin says, “I need a real yes.”

You hesitate. You decide. You say it.

“Yes.”

Just like that, he’s pulling you down the road to his car and opening the passenger’s side door for you. His place is across the city from here, so you settle in for what’s sure to be the most impatient car ride of your life. Anticipation drags out the minutes, as the energy between you grows so tense that you’re sure one of you is going to snap and start things up before you even get there.

But you’re spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of his building before you know it, Hyunjin’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you.

You’ve been to his place before, to meet him outside for dates, but you’ve never gone inside before. It’s a regular villa building, boxy and painted a demure white, and he leads you up the metal stairs to the third floor.

“I’m not trying to pressure you into anything,” Hyunjin says uncertainly, as he unlocks the door.

“I know,” you say, “I wouldn’t have come up if I didn’t want…well…”

Hyunjin grins his understanding, and you follow him into the apartment, taking his lead as he kicks off his shoes. You peek around when he flips on the lights.

His home looks about the way you’d expect: modest-sized and full of plain, sturdy furniture that looks like it could take a few hits. The décor is understated, intending to be an atmosphere of minimalist modernism, except that a girly, demanding preschooler definitely lives here. Drawings cover the fridge, the corkboard on the wall, the dining table with its one normal chair and one pink booster seat. Toys, hair accessories, and art supplies sit on shelves, in baskets, on end tables.

“It’s cute,” you say.

“Hm?”

Hyunjin pops his head out of the kitchen, now sans blazer, where he’s switching on more lights. He obviously has a just-gotten-home routine, and he’s not about to abandon it just because you’re here.

“This place. It’s cute,” you repeat. “It suits you.”

“It’s small,” he says with a shrug, tossing his blazer onto the back of the couch, “But we each have a bedroom and that’s really all that I can ask for. You ever shared a bedroom with a toddler? Not cool.”

“I’d like to see your room,” you tease, cringing at yourself instantly for making the dumbest of the dumb jokes.

But Hyunjin’s expression is just dangerously joyful, like he’s really taking it to heart.

“I’ll give you the grand tour,” he says.

“Sounds like you’re plotting.”

“I did tell you that I would prove it to you,” he says, drawing in close to you again, “How much I care about you.”

“The only way you know how to do that is with sex?” you ask playfully, “That’s sad. Maybe expand your vocabulary, first.”

He looks down at you, amused and just slightly frustrated. “Why can’t you make this easy for me?”

“Nothing with me is easy,” you say, “You should get used to that.”

“I dunno. You’re kind of easy to love.”

There he goes again, with that word. You can feel your cheeks burning, unable to process such casual affection from someone you like so much.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“As much as you want,” he promises.

You slot yourself comfortably into his arms and lean up to kiss him. He’s got such ridiculous plush lips, soft and sliding against yours, and he holds you like you’re something precious. It’s an overwhelming amount of attention, but you let yourself bask in it.

“C’mon,” he says, “I’ll give you that tour.”

He winks, and then he releases you, walking across the small living space toward the doors on the far wall. Following him is second nature, at this point, and you pad after him.

“This is Min’s room,” he tells you.

He cracks the door on the right, so that you can see a peek of the pink explosion on the other side.

“She picked all her own décor,” he says.

“I’m starting to think that pink is just your favorite color, and you’re using the kid as an excuse,” you say.

“You’ll never get me to admit it,” he grins.

He opens the door on the left, and this room is soft woods and earth tones. Definitely an adult’s room, almost stark in its lack of personal effects. It’s dark except for city lights filtering between the open curtains, casting the room into a seductive kind of shadow. You follow him into the room, grinning to yourself.

“Bed looks comfy,” you say.

Hyunjin sits down on the edge of the bed, strong thighs in dress pants drawing your eye shamefully quickly, and fixes you with a look.

“Come find out,” he offers.

You can’t keep being so self-conscious about this. It’s Hyunjin, it’s only Hyunjin, your friend. One of your dearest friends. With his supermodel face, and his long blonde hair falling out of its ponytail in wisps around his cheekbones, and the outline of his cock against his thigh-

Fuck.

Something in you snaps. You climb into his lap, settling yours knees on either side of his hips, winding your arms around his neck to pull his mouth back against yours. He laughs into the kiss, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you down harder into him.

“See?” he says, voice low, “It’s not so hard to open up to me, is it?”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” you mutter.

“You’re so mean to yourself,” Hyunjin chides.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I can be mean to you instead.”

He just laughs again, grinding his hips up into you briefly. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, distinct even through the layers of clothes that separate the two of you.

“Can this come off?” he asks, plucking at the collar of your nice silky blouse.

“Yeah.”

His answering smile is dark and satisfied, conniving in a way that makes your pulse jump. Hyunjin is so calm and sweet most of the time, cheerful in a way that suggests naivety. You almost worry about him, sometimes, worry that to other he’ll come across as just pretty and dim. Why are you getting the feeling that you’ve stumbled across a very different part of him, tonight?

“D’you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asks, against your collarbone, as he unbuttons your blouse down your chest, down your stomach.

“How long?”

“Too long. Way too long.

He’s pushing your shirt off your shoulders before you know it, reaching around to unhook your bra. His hands are firm and certain, the stumbling hesitation that he’d shown while asking you out nowhere to be found. Here, apparently, he’s absolutely comfortable.

Your shirt and bra are discarded carelessly, and you’re surprised that you feel no shyness at all when Hyunjin cups your breasts in his hands and thumbs over your nipples.

“Knew you’d be pretty,” he says.

“Shut up,” you mumble.

He gives you another one of those feline grins.

“Watch it,” he warns.

Hyunjin hooks one arm around your back and flips the two of you over so that he’s on top, all but dragging you up to the middle of the bed. You’re sprawled on your back under him now, bouncing gently on the mattress with the force that he’d used to move you.

“You’re even prettier like this,” he smirks, “I like the slacks, by the way, very professional. I didn’t tell you that earlier.”

“Thanks,” you reply, breathing heavy, unsure how to handle this new Hyunjin and his blinding confidence.

“Can those come off, too?”

“What about your clothes?” you whine.

“We’ll get to that,” he promises.

He only needs one hand to unbutton, unzip, and tug your slacks down to your knees in one fluid motion, and he move aside so you can kick them off all the way.

“These are so you,” Hyunjin says.

You’re confused, until you look down yourself to see the panties you’d put on that morning: light blue with a pattern of tiny white running llamas. They’re not all that sexy, but they’re comfy, and it’s not like you’d explicitly planned on anyone seeing them, date or no date.

“I wasn’t expecting to get fucked tonight,” you say bluntly, “Give me a break.”

“Should have at least hoped for it,” he grins.

“I try to keep my expectations realistic.”

“You need to give yourself more credit,” Hyunjin says.

To punctuate it, he leans down over you fully, caging you in, and kisses you breathless again. He trails his mouth and hands down your front lazily, scraping his teeth against your hipbone where it peeks from the waistband of your underwear. He lets one long finger trace over your panties, across your covered pussy, and you can’t help how you twitch.

“Bet you’re fuckin’ delicious, too. Am I gonna get to taste?” he asks.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan.

The mouth on him…you’ve never had someone talk to you like this before, so tender and affectionate but also so obscene. It sends arousal pealing through you, the idea that he can be so into this, into you.

“Use your words,” he says, “Come on, can I taste you?”

“Yes,” you say, “God, Hyunjin…”

“Oh, I like how my name sounds, like that, listen to you,” he purrs.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties off smoothly. Those are abandoned over the edge of the bed, too, and Hyunjin has his face between your legs seemingly as fast as he can.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” he says, warm breath fanning over your inner thighs.

“I will,” you say, “Don’t worry.”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, and he licks into you indulgently.

He’s got one hand bracing himself against your leg, one hand holding your folds open for him so he can dip his tongue into your opening, drag it slow across your clit.

“Fuck,” he says, and you swear you can feel the word against you, “Can’t wait to feel this sweet pussy around my dick.”

You moan. You can’t help it, can’t help the way you’re leaking your arousal against his tongue, the way his words and his gorgeous mouth are working you over. He pulls away from your core much too quickly, and he smiles when you whine.

“Just a taste, I said,” he placates.

He sits back on his heels between your legs to strip off his own clothes, but you haul yourself up to meet him.

“Let me do it,” you say.

“Be my guest.”

So it’s your turn to undo his buttons and give yourself an unencumbered look at his body for the first time. He’s slim, working muscle like a dancer, gorgeous skin under your hands. You kind of want to take your time, leave marks all over him and get to know every inch. But it does seem like he has an agenda tonight, as he impatiently shrugs off his shirt and undoes his own belt.

He rids himself of his pants and underwear quickly, and you really should have expected him to have a cock like THAT. He’s tall, and pretty, and of course, this part of him matches perfectly, long and thick and beautifully flushed.

“I’m clean,” you find yourself saying, “And on birth control, so if you want…we can…”

Hyunjin grins at you. “You just want me to fuck you raw.”

“I do,” you agree, “Fuck, I do.”

“I’m clean, too,” he tells you.

He nudges your legs apart to make room for him as he crawls back up your body, giving you a gentle playful shove so that you lay flat on your back for him again.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up, just like this?”

He’s looming over you, propping himself up with his hands planted on either side of your head. You can feel the tip of his cock nudging between your folds.

“That’s what I want,” you agree desperately. “Please.”

You don’t know why you’re begging him like this. Are you that easy to break?

But you can’t bring yourself to care how ridiculous you sound, because Hyunjin rocks his hips forward to dip the head of his cock into you, and you keen.

“What do you want?” he asks, with a knowing smirk.

“You know exactly what!”

“I can’t give you anything unless you tell me,” he says.

“I want,” you struggle, “I want you to fill me up. Please.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praises gently.

He rewards you with another thrust, a little deeper, sending a fantastic thrill through your body but still nowhere near enough. He works himself into you slowly, just a bit at a time, pulling completely out in between just to be able to sink all the way back in.

After what seems like an eternity, he slides in completely, hips flush against yours. You squirm, needing him to do SOMETHING, after taking his sweet time to get to this point, but Hyunjin seems content to just sit like this for a moment.

“I was right,” he tells you, “Feels fuckin’ heavenly.”

“Move, please,” you beg.

“Be patient. Maybe I just want you to cockwarm me for the rest of the night,” he teases.

“I would go home,” you say.

He laughs. “Okay, okay, you got me, that’s not what I want.”

So slowly that you know he’s doing it on purpose to torture you, Hyunjin draws back and fucks into you, hard and deep. It coaxes a punched-out moan from your throat, already so strung out though you’ve just begun.

He’s stronger than you would have imagined, driving into you with those narrow dancer’s hips and leaning down to press kisses to your cheeks, your mouth, the sides of your throat. His hands roam like he wants to be touching all of you at once: kneading into your breast, smoothing back your hair, bending your legs up farther so he can fuck you deeper, better.

“Look how well you take me,” he says.

You do look. You crane your neck up to look down the narrow space between you, as Hyunjin props up his body above you, and you can just barely see his thick cock working into you, disappearing with an obscene squelch that leaves no question about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

“So messy,” he teases.

“’m not messy,” you mumble, feeling sex-stupid but indignant.

“No?” he grins, “Not dripping wet for me?”

You want to argue, but he’s right; you can feel exactly how wet you are for him. You can’t remember the last time someone had you so desperate, so ready and eager to take what you’re given. Hyunjin falls forward to let your bodies press together, covering you and pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Sweet girl,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice soft and fond and dangerous, “So good for me. So good with my kid. We could give her a sibling, you know.”

It sounds like something that just slipped out, the way that it’s so honest and the way that Hyunjin nearly gasps at himself. But your mind has gone one hundred percent completely blank. You let out a moan that’s mostly silent, as you let the implication of that wash over you.

You didn’t think you had a thing for, well…this.

But Hyunjin, looking at you like this, talking like this, honest and filthy, right in your ear. You know that it’s just dirty talk, that he doesn’t mean it, not right this instant. You both know that you’re on birth control. But the game of it, the idea of it…

“Yes,” you gasp, “Oh my God-”

“Oh, you REALLY like that,” he purrs, “I can feel you squeezing around me.”

“Hyunjin!” you moan.

“Is that what you want, baby? You just wanna be filled up with my cum, is that it?”

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, and you doubly can’t believe how much you fucking love them, how you’re nodding and clawing your fingernails down his back at the picture he’s painting for you.

“Please,” you gasp, “I want – I want-”

Hyunjin draws up so that he can look into your eyes. “Baby wants me to give her a baby. Hm.”

Never in your life have you been brought right to the point of cumming just from someone’s words, but that’s exactly what’s happening. You can feel that perfect fuzzy electricity in your toes, building up. If you cum untouched, just from this, you’re gonna have some real soul-searching to do.

He seems to be at a similar place, fucking into you at a breakneck pace, still murmuring at you mindlessly.

“Want to fill up this sweet pussy, put a baby in you…Jesus fucking Christ, so good,” Hyunjin moans.

“Inside,” you agree, “Please – I need you, I just-”

As if he couldn’t be more perfect, Hyunjin slips his hand between you, presumably to bring you over the peak with him. The instant his finger presses against your clit, starts to rub a messy circle in the wetness spreading across your folds and your inner thighs, you cum.

You feel like screaming, but your voice is strangled, constricted with arousal, “Oh-”

“Fuck!” Hyunjin moans, like he’s agreeing with you.

One, two, three, four deep strokes, and Hyunjin bottoms out, pressing into you as he cums. Your hips buck into him on their own accord as he paints your walls with his cum, and you can’t help the newly-awakened corner of your mind that thinks about what could happen, if you weren’t on your birth control, if you did this again…

Goddamn. You really have some journaling to do later, or something.

“So perfect,” Hyunjin mutters, letting his head fall, burying his face in your shoulder, “So fucking perfect, how did I get so lucky?”

You’re the lucky one, you think to yourself. Your brain is simultaneously too full and too empty to say anything coherent, so you just lay there, wrap your limbs around Hyunjin as well as you can. He gets the message, you think, because he snuggles more firmly into you and turns his head to press a kiss to your jaw.

He’s warm, and kind of heavy, but you don’t want him to move, or to pull out of you. Just let this minute last a little longer, you think. Just a little longer, before you have to talk about what all of this means.

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

You only know you’ve fallen asleep when you wake up.

There’s a weight on your chest, pressing you into the mattress. For a second you think you have sleep paralysis, until you get a face-full of blonde hair and realize that it’s just Hyunjin, fast asleep on top of you.

“Get up,” you say, pushing on him gently, “And, ew, let me clean up.”

You can feel his cum drying on the inside of your thighs, where it trickled out around his softened cock while you slept. It’s kind of nasty, but the memory of all the hazy lust-filled things you said to each other makes you not mind so much.

Hyunjin yawns audibly, right next to your head, and then he peels himself off you.

“Sorry,” he grins. “Are your arms asleep?”

“No. Doesn’t your neck hurt from laying like that?”

He presses a smacking kiss to your forehead. “No. You’re a good pillow.”

Hyunjin pulls out of you and climbs gingerly off the bed. You squint around the room until your eyes find a glowing digital clock on his bedside; it’s only just past midnight.

“Shower and then sleep?” Hyunjin offers.

“Sounds good.”

He helps you to your feet, laughing as your knees threaten to buckle despite the cooldown period you’ve had.

“I hope I didn’t cross any lines,” he says tentatively, “I took a risk with all that baby talk and-”

“I liked it,” you admit, shy.

“Really?”

You nod. “I mean, we shouldn’t do anything stupid. Not right now. But just to play with, in the bedroom…”

Grinning, you fan yourself dramatically with your hand, like you’re a proper lady being overwhelmed with the saucy behavior of your male paramour.

Hyunjin laughs again. “Good to know.”

He shows you across the hall to the bathroom, men’s hair and skin and shaving products lined up next to rainbow-packaged kiddie shampoo and a small bin full of bath toys. As the shower is warming up, steam and the sound of rushing water filling the bathroom, he nudges you with his elbow.

“I knew all along that you were just into me because I have a kid,” he says.

You consider it, as you pull back the shower curtain and test the water. It’s warm, so you draw the curtain fully back and step under the spray. Peeking out at him, water starting to run down your back and warm your skin the way that Hyunjin’s presence warms you on the inside, you smile.

“Guess you’re just a DILF.”

💕💕💕💕

#hwang hyunjin #stray kids #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fics #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin smut #dilf series #kpop #kpop fanfic #tw emotional manipulation #tw emotional neglect #tw unhealthy relationship

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leviiattacks · 4 years

Note

Head canons for mafia boss levi being interested in Starbucks barista reader please

note :: this idea is so cute i wrote a scenario i hope you don’t mind. i can still post some headcanons for it too if you really want me to! i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted me to write anon :-( ALSO this is super casual writing it’s not like the way i usually write it’s just bullet points i mean idk i wanted to try something different and more relaxed lmk if this style is okay for some requests :D

if anyone would like any more requests with this levi please lmk!! i could go in more detail tbh maybe the pacing of this isn’t too good bc it is a short request but yeahhh

+ idk why the formatting looks so odd i tried my best to fix it myself ?!.!/!:£:& but yeah sorry again!!

levi has always been one to keep his business meetings lowkey

i mean, realistically who is going to suspect mafia boss levi is lingering in a starbucks???

the place is well-suited for his hushed meetings, he finds it to be quiet enough and clean enough

but then one winter everything changes

you start working there

he’s waiting in the queue texting erwin asking when he’ll be able to get there

it’s been a RUSH and the traffic is crazy as expected from the bustling city so he doesn’t expect to see erwin for a while

that’s when he hears you for the first time

“HEY!! Mister in the fancy suit it’s your turn to order”

your hands are placed on the counter and you lean forward eagerly waiting for what he has to say

levi rolls his eyes because he thinks you have to be ogling his designer watch and shoes (you really aren’t)

“black tea, no sugar and... a cinnamon swirl” he’ll order for erwin later. “i’ll be eating in.”

“ooohhh you’re a tea guy? name?” you’re smiling at him radiantly and it irks him because you have nothing to be smiling about really

eyes narrowing he responds “no shit, i just ordered tea.”

“and why the hell do you want my name?” he snaps on reflex

he then remembers he’s at a starbucks and you are not interrogating him, you’re doing your job

“sir... this is starbucks?? is this your first time here?”

you blink in confusion but then your face lights up “oh my, would you like to sign up for a starbucks card?? you can collect stars and get rewards and it’s so muc–“

“do i look like i need a starbucks card?”

“everyone looks like they need a starbucks card”

he doesn’t carry on that part of your conversation instead he looks you dead in the eyes “levi, is my name.”

his glare intimidates you and you awkwardly laugh

you think he’s probably having a super bad day and choose to not bother him that much

as he’s waiting he sees the way you clumsily navigate behind the counter, you’re juggling a number of things in your arms

automatically his face sours

he’s not expecting the tea you produce to be any good

he doesn’t care how nice you are if you can’t do what he wants he won’t be leaving a tip

he’s stingy like that

a clatter is heard and all the noise you’re making just makes you all the more aggravating

he’s been coming here for years and never has encountered a barista as bothersome as yourself

at some point you call out the name “SCROOGE!” from behind the counter, levi finds it embarrassing that anyone would ever call their child that

like... out of all the names this is what they choose??

damn they have to hate parenthood

“scrooge i’m begging you collect your drink.”

he looks up pissed that whoever this scrooge is has the audacity to hold you up because that by default means they are holding him up

then he sees you staring directly at him with that warm smile again

yeah, that smile, it could thaw ice

then it settles.

he’s scrooge?

turning around he notices no one is behind him then he sees that no one else is waiting apart from him

jaw clenching he heads towards you and makes it a point to “tsk” in frustration

he takes his cup and his cinnamon roll and you wave him goodbye

usually levi prefers to silently sit in the booth furthest from the action, he wants no attention drawn to him at all

but that day he finds himself sitting closer to the counter

he’s kind of stunned when he does that because he’s just sat there thinking why the hell did i just do that?? why did i sit here??

but he convinces himself it’s because he wants to see erwin when he’s about to walk in so he can prepare to scold him for not arriving on time

he takes a sip of his beverage expecting nothing above mediocirty but weirdly, your brew, it tastes perfect

levi’s eyes linger on you and he notices the way your behaviour is consistent

you’re helping an old woman pick what she’d like from the menu

you compliment her jumper, says it really makes her blue eyes stand out

you don’t have to be as nice as you are and it’s ticking him off

it ticks him off seeing someone so pure and sweet for no reason

when did people decide to not have ulterior motives anymore? did you decide those were too old school for you?

tongue poking at the inside of his cheek he activates his poker face and looks away

you, are a random person. a random, annoying person. he is going to stop thinking about you.

turning his attention to erwin instead he calls him and when he picks up levi makes his point very clear

“i was just called scrooge. get the hell here so i can order for you.”

erwin chuckles, his throaty laugh makes levi’s mouth twitch downwards in irritation

“and who exactly called you scrooge?”

“is that relevant?”

“very much so if you’ve mentioned it yourself”

levi is silent and erwin laughs once again at his colleagues anti social way of interacting

“i’ll be there in five, feel free to order.”

grunting a sound of approval levi hangs up

“you’re back! how may i help?”

the way you treat being a barista so seriously, he finds it oddly endearing

“one doubleshot iced coffee.”

nodding to yourself you hum a tune happily and get to work

ever since that day levi finds himself frequenting that specific starbucks more

at first it’s a whole lot of “i’m pissed and i don’t have a reason so i’ll go down there and have her annoy me, then i’ll have a real reason”

then you talk to him more and you both engage in small talk

then it develops when he doesn’t mean for it to

you tell him about what you study, where you’re from, how your mother has recently developed arthritis but she’s still so determined to cook to the best of her abilities despite the pain

that reminds him of you

each visit he learns something new about you

sometimes he’ll let you in on his life

“what do you work as, i’ve always wondered?“

“accountant.“ no way in hell is he going to scare you away, telling you isn’t an option

you burst out in laughter holding your knees

“accountancy is well paying what is your point...?”

“do you not know what that means” your laugh is muffled as you press the sleeve of your jumper against your mouth

he shakes his head completely clueless

“people say their accountants when they’re actually strippers. it’s a tiktok thing.”

you pause for a second staring at his face

he feels the way his ears grow red under your gaze but he ignores it looking as bored as ever

“ah well. i did not know that.”

“clearly not you are an old man.”

then you turn away to brew his tea and he lets the ghost of a smile sneak its way onto his face

you aren’t looking, it’s okay

but he knows it’s dangerous getting attached to you

it’s stupid relaxing

and it’s even worse loosening up

so he doesn’t.

he’s always cold, bitter and frigid in his responses as he’s always been with you

but that doesn’t stop you from kindly smiling

or absentmindedly brushing the surface of his skin on rare occasions

it doesn’t stop you from calling him scrooge

and it certainly doesn’t stop you from slowly thawing the frosty exterior of his heart

then one day you let the words “my scrooge” slip out of your mouth

he doesn’t know why he let’s it happen or even how it happens exactly but he can’t help the smile that makes itself evident on his face

“HEY YOU JUST SMILED HELLO?????? you can do THAT????”

he smiled in front of you, that’s it he’s fucked

he quickly drops it and is back to his normal narrowed glare

“i did no such thing”

you give him a knowing look but sigh airily there’s no point in getting the man to admit it

“what would you like today, a frappe?”

you ask the sarcastic question even though you know he hates change. his usual order is already ingrained in your mind. you know it off by heart

he sighs in exasperation

“is your memory really that bad?”

“nope. cinnamon rolls and black tea it is!”

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi headcanons #mafia levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi fluff #levifanfiction #leviiattacks #sorry for getting carried away again T___T #levi scenario

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dovenymph · 3 years

Text

a film by peter parker

authors note: this was inspired by another thinkerpete tweet that read "peter probably watches the bit from "a film by peter parker" where he's in the car with tony over and over when he misses him" and@peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology’s summer of love prompt list💛💛 also the video edit was made by me so please do not screen record/save and repost it even if you do credit me (also this is unedited so sorry for any typos, i’ll probably go through it sometime this week, i just wanted to post it first)

prompts used: 2. making the backyard/rooftop into a movie theater

my masterlist

warnings: mentions of tony’s death, other than that, nothing but fluff

word count: 3.9k

Peter hated the summer.

Peter hated not having anything to busy himself with; no homework, or academic decathlon, or seeing Ned everyday who could wrap him up in his graphic novel fan theories or the drama in his on and off relationship with Betty. It was petty drama and minor stimulation, but it was something to distract him momentarily. But now Ned was in Aruba with his parents for the entire month which meant Peter had to suffer through the scorching heat of Juy all by himself.

Peter knew he didn’t have to be alone each day, -Aunt May had spent many dinners trying to get him to join her at the movies or the mall, even offering to let him have free reign of the lego store (when he said no to that, she knew he was in worse shape than she thought)- he had a handful of trustworthy and dependable friends he could hang out with for the afternoon like MJ and Betty, or even Flash who had been uncharacteristically nice to Peter ever since he found out he was Spiderman; this having happened only a few weeks after Tony had died and Peter had let him in on his secret to console a sobbing Eugene who, honestly, seemed to be more broken up about the news than Peter was. But even with his expanding friend group, Peter had found the most his body could endure was the contents of his bedroom.

He tried to get back out there after Tony’s passing, he really did, but at the first Iron Man tribute he admired on patrol, his body completely shut down and he swung back home, tears dampening the material of the mask.

So a lonely summer was what Peter submitted himself too, and he’s come to terms with it. He’s rewatched his favorite old shows, started binging some new ones. He’s taken apart and put together his lego death star four times now, each time faster than the last. But he’s been particularly fond of staring out the window. His apartment complex was quite close to the building besides his and he could look down into the backyard everyone had to share. Peter’s building had one as well, but since he was pretty sure he was the only person under 35 who lived there, it went unused.

Next door, there was always a different activity occurring in order for the patrons to beat the heat, and Peter often thought about how easy it would be for him to just go downstairs and introduce himself, and ask to join. It’d really be as simple as that and he’d meet some new people, get a free lunch and a chance to swim in the plastic pool they set up; maybe they’d laugh at his jokes and clap when he did flips, but it was all just a maybe, just in his imagination because his brain never let him wander to far before squandering the idea of getting close to someone again, for if history has taught Peter anything, it's that anything he gets close to, is not meant to stay for long and will be soon snatched away from him in the cruelest of ways.

And this thought is what resigns him to slink back behind his window and pout the day away, as he was doing now, vision blurring as he stared at nothing.

“Hey!”

Peter jumped, his eyes focusing on the target of whoever pelted his window and they landed on your form, slumped against your open windowsill, chin resting on your hand as you gazed back at him.

“Can I help you?” Peter bit back after lifting his window half way, his tone unconsciously laced with annoyance. He really didn’t even notice it anymore since that’s how he’s been speaking to everyone in his life for months now, but when you flinched at his tone, guilt started to creep up his spine.

Before he could ever begin to stumble out an apology, you cut him off “Yeah, is there a reason you stare into my room everyday?”

Peter's face flushed red and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken so bluntly towards him, and honestly, he liked it. He was getting tired of everyone walking on tiptoes around him, he just wanted things to go back to how they were, where he was just Peter Parker, your friendly neighborhood student.

“Or could you at least give me some money for some curtains if you just can’t give up the beautiful view of a concrete wall?”

“S-sorry, I- I didn’t even know you were there.”

Lie.

Peter knew you were there, he always knew when you were there.

Peter Parker isn’t a stalker, though! Sure, he’s gone through some fucked up shit on Earth and in space, so yeah, he wouldn’t call himself the most …sane person he knows, but he really wasn’t a creep. With your buildings being so close and your rooms directly across from one anothers, he was bound to notice you at some point.

And at some point he did. It was the first day of summer and Midtown let out at 12 instead of 3 to mark the occasion, so Peter had been mulling about in his room for quite some time already, thinking about how he heard all his classmates amazing summer plans and how the farthest he was going to go was probably the Thai restaurant down the street, and even that was a maybe. Peter sulked in silence until a couple hours later he heard a door slam closed, thumps from things being tossed on the ground, and a loud groan as he peeked through his windowsill at you who was currently flopped on the bed, window wide open without a care, scrolling on your phone.

At first, he was taken aback by your beauty, a small, small feeling of intrigue spiked his system, but it flew under the radar due to the seemingly everlasting dread that’s been weighing down on Peter's shoulders for months. But he couldn’t look away. You’d been doing nothing but looking at tiktoks mindlessly, occasionally cracking a half smile if a video was particularly amusing, but you still remained cemented to your mattress with no plans on moving anytime soon.

This brought comfort to Peter as he fished his phone out from the bottom of his bag and pulled up Ned’s messages and started to look through the media he sent him, almost two months worth of funny memes and videos that he hadn’t been bothered to look at, and he sat there along with you, aimlessly letting the time pass by. He enjoyed it, knowing he wasn’t really alone in his lazy and distracting behaviors because the pretty neighbor girl was doing just the same.

Ever since then, he’s just been …aware… of your coming and goings. He figured you had a summer job as every other day you were gone for a few hours, a solid shift. But on the days you were home, you also spent it mainly up in your room, every now and then, playing music from your record player, and if he was really lucky, you’d, unknowingly, give him a private concert as you sung out whichever niall horan or ariana grande song struck your fancy that day. He grew quite fond of the music, having added some of the regulars to his own playlist. And he enjoyed knowing you were right there, and he was right here; each of you living your lives, as uneventful as they may be, but you were together in some sort of way.

He’d never spoken to you, the ability of being able to just push his window up and call out to you at any time was what he liked, and each day he thought he’d do it but chickened out, and now it seemed like he’d have to make introductions whether he was ready or not.

“Mmm, right, so you haven’t seen me change or anything like that?” You asked and the content of your question and the inquisitive tone brought a flush to his cheeks.

“N-no! Of course not! I-I’d never do that, why would I even want to look at you? I mean! I don’t think you’re ugly or anything I… I just…”

Peter’s ramblings were cut off with your laugh as it bounced off the summer air and into his room. You were fully leaning out your open window now, and Peter had found himself in the same position, as if he was drawn to you.

“I was only joking with ya, but it's still nice to have the confirmation. I’m Y/N, your neighbor! Obviously.” You trailed off at the end, knowing that information was unnecessary since the boy next door obviously already knew that.

He was like no boy you’d ever seen before, only read about in books. He had a sweet disposition and inviting brown eyes that matched his soft chestnut hair. But he was built like a man, a strong jaw and strong arms. You’d seen him leaving his building everyday on your way to school, and when he’d get dropped off in a big black SUV during the late hours of the night, but he walked in the opposite direction or darted inside so fast,you never really got a chance to take him in.

“…Peter?” His tentative tone snapped you out of your daze and you realized he was introducing himself.

“Sorry, Peter! I- I… got distracted… by your… death star!” You let out, eyes focusing on the black and grey figure resting on his bed.

Peter felt his cheeks heat up as he moved to push it to the ground.

“That’s pretty cool! I finished the star wars series last summer.”

Peter’s eyes snapped up to yours and the friendly smile you were giving him along with the genuine interest in your tone seemed to break something inside him, snapped the band of hesitation that wrapped around his heart. “You did? For the first time?”

“Yeah! I know I’m like super late, but there’s like nine movies!”

Your laughs melded into one as you leaned out your respective windows and began talking about your favorite movie series. Peter was aware that this was unnatural for him. He had been more open to this stranger in the past few minutes than he had to his own Aunt in months and the same guilt from earlier crept up on him. But Peter was having a good time talking to you and he felt his insides turn in excitement when he realized you really had no idea who he was. He had a clean slate with you and he could make any first impression he wanted, well he hoped your first impression of him wasn’t that he was a peeping pervert, but we move, as MJ would say.

You were about to start telling Peter about this new dystopian novel you began reading when you heard a woman call out to him.

“Oh, that’s my Aunt May. She must be home from work. I- I should go say hello.” He explained, a sad look crossing his face that you didn’t quite understand.

You felt your own sadness wash over you, though. You didn’t want to stop talking to Peter either. “Yeah, of course!”

“But we can talk tomorrow right?” Peter asked, his tone laced with uncertainty.

“Oh well, I work double tomorrow… so I probably won’t be home ‘til late.” You said and the way the brown haired boys face visibly fell felt like a punch in the gut and you were scrambling for a reason to make him smile.

“B-but hey! I also get paid tomorrow so if you want, you can come over on saturday and we can have a movie night and we can order a shit ton of take out?”

“Come over to your place?” Peter asked, and he felt himsef involuntarily tense at the idea of leaving his room for the first time in weeks. It was safe in his room. But the pleading look on your face and hopefulness in your tone encouraged him to take the chance.

“I’d love to y/n.” Peter said with a soft smile and you smiled back shyly at him before closing your window and making your way out your room, making sure you were safe in the hall, away from his prying eyes to do a little happy dance.

Peter was unable to wipe the grin off his face as he walked out his room to greet his Aunt.

She heard his feet padding down the hall as she was setting out dinner, “Sorry its not ready yet, Petey, today’s been crazy, but I’ll get started now.” She rushed. Recently, she’s been hoping food’s the key to lift her poor nephews spirits, so each night she’ll either order or make something more fattening, cheesy, and delicious than the last.

“It’s alright May,” Peter let out easily as he turned the counter and placed a kiss on her cheek, “why don’t you let me cook tonight?”

May’s jaw dropped and she blinked a couple times. She could barely get two words out of Peter recently, and they were always either a meak thank you for dinner or an it was good when she asked about his day. She felt her eyes tear up at the slight sliver of her old Petey back.

“O-oh, really, you wanna cook?”

Peter ducked his head down at the ingredients in front of him to avoid looking in her eyes, his heart dropping at the glossiness that overtook them. He truly hadn’t realized how closed off he’d been. “Well, how about we do it together?” He began and the face splitting grin that spread across May’s face was all he needed to know he was taking a step in the right direction.

“G-good idea, honey. Can’t have the house burn down, can we?”

“Hey!”

May laughed and kissed Peter’s head as they began winding through the kitchen, making casual conversation. It was just like the old days, May thought. Before the wave of devastation drowned Peter as he lost a father figure, once again.

“So what did you do today, P? Do you know when Ned get’s back? I’m sure you’re both excited to see each other.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I am. I don’t know when he get’s back actually, but that’s okay-“

“I know you like your peace and quiet, I really do, but I do think it’ll be good for you to get out of the apartment for a little bit, see if Michelle is available. Oh! Or maybe that Lisa, Liz! I liked Liz, see if she’s available-“

“May! Its okay. I don’t need to hang out with Liz Allen,” Peter grumbled, “I- I made a new friend actually.”

May looked over at Peter in confusion since he hadn’t gone out or had anyone over in weeks, that she could remember; and Peter took her silence as an opportunity to continue.

“The neighbor.”

“Mrs. Wozniak?”

“No! Y/n, she lives in the next building over. And my room is right across from hers. We’re gonna hang out on saturday.”

“Oh?” May raised her brows at her nephew and bit back a smile, much to Peter’s chagrin. “Is she pretty?”

“And that’s relevant why?”

“I don’t know!!” May drawled and Peter just rolled his eyes and kept chopping the vegetables in front of him, the blush adorning his cheeks refusing to go down as he thought yes, yes she is.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

You yanked the door open as soon as you heard Peter’s knocks against it. He jumped back a bit, his arm still partially raised from when he knocked and you silently berated yourself for being so eager, but the spreading smile across his face made you feel not so bad.

“Oh, sorry, I was just-“

“It’s alright.” Peter replied with a soft smile, and you let yourself trace the golden flecks in his eyes before he cleared his throat, once again, snapping you out of a daze. You seemed to be in a dreamy state around him alot.

“Can I come in? I brought my Star Wars DVD collection by the way, I know you’ve seen them, but this one has the director's cut which I thought totally changed the course of the first trilogy!” Peter explained, rocking on the balls of his feet in excitement.

You bit your lip at the sight, his cuteness was rubbing off on you. “Yeah, that sounds great, but actually we aren’t gonna be watching in here.” You said, grabbing the bag of Chinese food and snacks and stepping out.

Peter’s face sputtered as you both walked to the stairs. He’d spent all day building up his courage to just go six feet from his building, there was no way he’d be able to go around the city with you for the fear of seeing something that’ll remind him of the avengers or crime.

“Y’alright?” You asked, noticing Peter’s stony silence as you walked down the last flight and made your way to the back gate.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I’m just nervous. I haven’t really hung out with anyone new in a while, well, with anyone at all really.”

You smiled in sympathy, “I get you, I haven’t either. All my friends are out of town, so I’ve mostly just hung out in my room, too.”

“But you already knew that, don’t ya stalker?”

Peter rolled his eyes and shoved your arm as you laughed, glad you got his nerves out of his system. You unlocked the gate and lef Peter to the back garden.

“Woah..” Peter let out. There was a large white sheet hung up between two trees, and a projector set up on the table behind where a blanket lay, covered in a mess of pillows. The setting sun lit up by strung lightbulbs.

“You like? I figured since we both seemed to be home bodies, we could have the fun of the movie theatre, but here!”

Peter felt his heart swell at your words. You’d only known him for two days, and you already treated him with so much consideration and kindness. “I- I love it, y/n. This is amazing.”

He saw how you tucked your cheek into your shoulder in bashfulness and felt his spirits raise even higher. You were adorable.

“I’m glad you like it. I hope the projector works though, it took me forever to translate the instructions.”

Peter walked over to it and gave it a once over. “It seems fine to me, but I can always look at it if you want.”

“Oh yeah? You good with tech?”

“Good enough to get by. I needed it a lot while working with Mr. Stark” Peter began, forgetting that he wasn’t talking to an old friend.

“You worked with Tony Stark?!?”

“Oh.. oh yeah, only for a little! I was an intern.” He said quietly, beating himself up for even bringing up the topic of Tony. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of a pretty girl.

“Wow, that must’ve been amazing. You, you must miss him a lot then, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled lifelessly. “Yeah I do.”

“But no matter, we’re here to have a good time right?”

“Yeah, yeah we are!” You grasped his hand and gave him a sympathetic squeeze -neither of you blind to the sparks that shot from the place your hands met- and got settled on the blanket.

Two and a half moves later, the sun had set and the two of you were sitting in the darkness, the only light coming from the flickering of the projector as the abandoned movie played. You and Peter were sitting cross legged, facing each other as he told you another story about working with the Avengers.

“Yeah, it was so crazy!! We were in this airport and he went from being like two inches tall to two hundred feet, it blew my mind. But it was okay though, because I had this idea-“

“Wait, wait, wait. You were there? Why?” You asked, loving every adventure filled anecdote he told you, but it wasn’t all adding up. For just an intern, he seemed incredibly close to Mr. Stark himself, but then again, you’d only known him for less than a week and you also wanted to go everywhere with him.

Peter worried his lip, thinking about how he could worm his way out of this one. Why would a teenage intern be at the Avengers civil war? He figured he could lie, or even just run away and buy black out curtains. Maybe he could convince Aunt May to switch rooms with him even. But you’d already brought so much light to his life in multiple aspects, and he thought, just maybe, you’d be able to bring light to that aspect of his life too.

“You know what, lemme just show you! Wait here, I’ll be back!”

Peter ran back down, his Chewbacca flash drive in hand, adrenaline running through his veins. He plugged it into your laptop and dug up a folder he hadn’t touched in almost eight months.

“What’s this?” You asked as he sat back down next to you.

“You’ll see.” He said, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

A Film by Peter Parker, read the title as a compilation of videos featuring Peter, Happy, Aunt May, the Avengers, and Tony projected before you both.

Peter heard you gasp as the camera flashed to the suit, and saw, from the corner of his eye, how your head snapped towards his as he backspringed across the battleground. The film continued and neither of you could tear your eyes from the screen. Peter felt his eyes well up with tears as a scene with him and Tony talking to the camera began and he thought that watching this was a bad idea and he was about to turn around and turn it off when he felt your fingers intertwine with his.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the warmth you brought him and he squeezed back, his brain nearly malfunctioning at the speed in which he tried to memorize the feel of your hand in his. But his senses were overloaded as he picked up on your accelerated heartbeat.

The two of you continued to watch the video, neither moving even when it autostarted from the beginning, and this time you laughed outwardly at the funny parts, and asked him questions about why Happy didn’t seem to like him.

“What did you do to him Peter?”

“Nothing I swear!”

“Likely story.”

And he felt the steel blanket of grief fall off his shoulders. The feeling of intrigue and excitement for going back to life was no longer a small trail buried deep within him, but now a firecracker that ignited his insides and aurated off of him. Things were going to be alright, he was going to make it out this summer with more than just the memories from his bedroom, and he’d make it through whatever else life would throw at him, as long as he had you by his side.

Because you didn’t make his heart beat faster out of fear, you made him feel flustered and full of affection.

And you didn’t hold him roughly, with the intent to harm him; you held him delicately, and he could only wait to be able to hold your heart the same way.

55 notes · View notes

nicknellie · 4 years

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@theanarik requested: a willex alive au, friends pining so much for each other to lovers, in which Alex maybe gets flirted at and he tries to downplay it but Willie gets jealous (or vice versa) and they end up fighting about it but then realize they are in love with each other BUT THEN THEY DON'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. And then they kith out of nowhere????

I love this prompt so much, I’m always here for friends to lovers and pining! Thank you so much for suggesting it! I’m going to be honest, most of this was written between midnight and half past one in the morning, but that’s when I do my best work so I honestly think this might be one of my favourite and best things I’ve written.

Delicately Deliberate

It was a typical Saturday. Though the day was bleak and chilly, the sun shone brightly, illuminating the otherwise washed-out early spring streets and the bustling people going about their business, heads bowed against the biting breeze. Alex stood outside the museum doors like every Saturday, wrapped up warm in two hoodies but relishing the feeling of the sun on his face – he could bear the cold if only for the promise of brighter, happier days. He was waiting for Willie; they met at the museum every Saturday because entry was half price and they both enjoyed visiting. Luke called these meet-ups dates, Reggie called them cute, and Julie called them domestic, but Alex simply called them friendship.

But there were times he had to remind even himself that that was all there was between him and Willie, a friendship. A very close friendship, but a friendship nonetheless. So what if they held hands more often than not? Sometimes holding hands with friends was comforting. So what if when they met up at the museum they talked about their days, shared secrets and gossip, stared at each other more than they did the artwork? Sometimes it was nice to catch up with a friend. So what if Alex’s heart skipped a beat every time Willie laughed? Sometimes it was nice to see a friend be happy.

Although he could admit that maybe he was lying to himself with that one. Every time Willie flipped his hair, smiled that cheeky smile, playfully nudged Alex’s arm, discreetly slipped his hand into Alex’s, or truth be told did anything at all, Alex melted. If Willie smiled, Alex smiled; if Willie laughed, Alex laughed; if Willie was sad, Alex was too. He knew that his feelings for Willie ran deeper than just friendship, but what they had – this friendship of theirs – it was good, it was silly and fun and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin it.

So he took those silent confessions to himself, every thought about the crinkle of Willie’s eyes as he smiled or his endearingly scuffed shoes or his legs that were covered in plasters more often than not, and he locked them far away. Besides – he loved being friends with Willie.

“Hey, hotdog,” Willie said, sliding up to Alex with a smile brighter than the sun, hopping off his skateboard and tucking it under his arm. “Sorry I took so long. Traffic was hell.”

As Willie took off his helmet and shook his hair free, Alex wanted to tell him that the way the sun glinted off his hair made him look like an angel on Earth, and the way it caught in his eyes made them shine brighter than any star. He wanted to say that when the streaky sunlight broke through the clouds it was as if it sought Willie out specifically to shine on him, to show him off to the world, to make him glow.

Instead of saying any of that, Alex pointed out, “You don’t drive.”

“I skated directly into someone,” Willie admitted with a shrug. “They threatened to sue me but I’m pretty sure they were joking. I don’t know, I skated away before they could say anything else.”

Alex wasn’t the least bit surprised. Willie was amazing on a skateboard but he had the unfortunate tendency of getting lost in his own thoughts which led to a worrying amount of accidents. Once Alex had pulled him out of the way of an oncoming car just moments before disaster would have struck – when he had asked Willie what he had been thinking about that had distracted him so much, he hadn’t been given an answer.

“Well, I say we get inside before whoever you ran over finds you and seeks their revenge,” Alex said, gesturing to the museum behind him. Willie beamed and took Alex’s hand, leading him inside.

They had a very comfortable Saturday routine. They met at the museum at ten o’clock and whoever arrived first (usually Alex because he hated being late) would wait for the other. They would go in, pay their entry fees, alternating each week between who paid, and they would wander around. They wouldn’t pay much attention to the exhibits unless there was something new or a temporary instalment to check out – mostly they just talked to each other, enjoying one another’s company. In a completely friendly way, Alex had to remind himself on occasion.

Their schedule didn’t waver, and neither did the museum’s, so every time they came it was the same guy on reception. As a result, they’d become sort of friendly with him, enough to be on a first name basis. His name was Todd, a lanky redhead with kind eyes and a permanent smile. He was a charming boy about Alex and Willie’s age who had a weekend job at the museum. He was always pleased to see them, and chatting to him was a nice part of their weekly routine, Alex thought.

Willie had never seemed keen on Todd. Alex had never figured out why and Willie was unwilling to tell him.

“Like clockwork,” Todd said as they approached the front desk. He was grinning from ear to ear, enthusiastic as always. Alex smiled back at him. “The usual? Two tickets coming right up. Which one of you is paying today?”

“I think that’s me,” Alex said, reaching into his pocket to dig out his wallet. He handed over the cash and Todd, if possible, smiled even wider.

“Look at you, always the gentleman,” he said, laughing too loudly. Alex smiled awkwardly. “You should really let someone be a gentleman for you once in a while.”

Alex wasn’t sure what he was getting at. Todd knew that he and Willie took turns paying, it happened every week, surely it was obvious that Willie was just as gentlemanly as he was.

“Well, Willie does it quite a lot,” he pointed out. Willie smiled gently at him, playfully nudging him in a way that sent his heart into overdrive. Todd just tittered.

“Yes, well,” he said dismissively. “If you’d let me then I could show you just how much of a gentleman I can be. I know I’m at work so I shouldn’t really be asking, but would you mind if I got your number?”

Oh. Oh. That’s what this was. Todd was flirting. Probably – people usually only asked for other people’s numbers when they wanted to go on a date, right? And Todd had said he wanted to prove he could be a gentleman. Surely that meant he was planning on asking Alex out?

Alex suddenly had no idea what to do. If he was reading this right, and he was fairly certain he was, then he and Todd were on completely different pages. Alex saw Todd as an acquaintance and that was how he wanted to stay, he didn’t want it to be anything more. There was only one person he wanted anything more with, and that boy was currently stood beside him, stiff as a plank, face eerily devoid of emotion, toying with a wheel on his skateboard. But he couldn’t just tell Todd that he couldn’t have his number, that would be awkward on a thousand levels – equally he couldn’t say yes because it would be unfair to lead Todd on.

He did a quick toss-up between his two options and made his decision purely on what would embarrass him less.

“Sure,” he said quickly. Grinning, Todd handed him a post-it note and a pen and Alex scribbled down his phone number, handing it back to him. He gave a tight smile, then turned on his heel. “Okay. Come on, Willie, let’s go.”

Willie didn’t say anything, but Alex felt him fall into step beside him. Well, if it could be called ‘beside’ – Willie was arms’ length away, so far that Alex couldn’t have touched him if he reached out as far as he could. It was strange – usually they would walk so close that they bumped shoulders and almost always ended up hand in hand – but Alex shrugged it off and just walked himself closer to Willie. It only registered that something definitely wasn’t right when he saw Willie’s shoulders tense, and he ducked his head when Alex looked in his direction.

“Hey,” he said gently, slowing his steps and placing a soft hand at Willie’s elbow, stopping him too. “You okay?”

Willie avoided eye contact like it would kill him which was how Alex knew he was lying when he said, “I’m fine. Come on, let’s just get this over with.”

They walked through the museum, stood as close as they normally would, but this time it felt uncomfortable and invasive somehow. Alex couldn’t pinpoint when, but Willie’s chipper mood had dulled and he had turned sullen and sulky. He made several attempts to start a conversation, asking Willie about his day and the rest of his week, telling him his own stories, but he was met either with a disinterested hum or cold silence.

It felt so wrong. Where had Willie’s heart-stopping smile gone? His bright, unrestrained giggles? The spark in his eyes that glowed especially brightly here, in the museum? Where was he?

It went on for twenty minutes until Alex finally grew tired of it. When they were alone in a deserted room which housed only a picturesque oil painting, he stepped right in front of Willie so he had no choice but to look at him.

“What’s going on with you?” he said, trying not to let his frustration show. It ebbed away just slightly when he saw the stung expression on Willie’s face. “When we got here you were happy and excited like normal, what’s changed since we came in?”

“It’s nothing,” Willie insisted. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It clearly does or you wouldn’t be this upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Willie protested, clearly lying, the waver in his voice betraying him.

“You are,” Alex said, taking a risk and planting his hands on Willie’s shoulders. “I know you, Willie, and this isn’t you.”

“You clearly don’t know me,” Willie snapped.

Alex’s hands dropped from Willie’s shoulders without him meaning to let go. Hurt, he took a step back. There was anger on Willie’s face now but Alex had no idea where it was coming from. Maybe Willie was right – this certainly wasn’t the version of him Alex knew.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, weak.

Willie’s face worked for a moment and Alex could see the cogs in his head turning as he desperately searched for the right words to explain himself.

He gave a haggard sigh and said, “That guy was flirting with you, Alex! He has been for the past three months, as long as we’ve been coming here together!”

Alex didn’t see what that had to do with anything. Why would Todd flirting with him mean anything? But that was the path Willie had chosen to stray down, so Alex followed him.

“I’m sure he was just being friendly.”

Willie laughed mirthlessly. “Sure. Friendly. He’s been more than friendly with you ever since he first saw you.”

Alex shuffled uneasily. Maybe he hadn’t noticed at the time, but after Todd’s little display earlier a lot of his previous behaviour had made a lot more sense. Like the time he’d called Alex ‘possibly the most attractive guy I have ever seen’. Alex wasn’t sure now how he had dismissed that as friendly chitchat.

“Okay, fine, maybe he was flirting with me. So what?”

“You gave him your number!”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yes,” Willie exclaimed.

Alex raised an eyebrow. He suddenly didn’t like where this conversation was going. “So I’m not allowed to have people flirt with me?”

Eyes widening, Willie seemed to realise how Alex had taken it and immediately started to backtrack. “No, that’s not– that came out wrong, I mean–”

“You know, at least he’s taking an interest in me,” Alex sneered. He still couldn’t understand where Willie’s initial burst of anger had come from, but now that he was riding high on his own he didn’t care to find out. “It’s more than you’ve done today, ignoring me like I’m some stranger to you. Go on then, if the problem isn’t that he was flirting with me then what is it? Are you angry because he wasn’t flirting with you? Do you like Todd?”

“No,” Willie groaned exasperatedly. He took a desperate step towards Alex, but he instinctively stepped back. He half regretted it when he saw Willie flinch at it, but the other half of him felt some sick satisfaction. “That’s not it. I don’t like Todd. It’s just— God, Alex, how can you tell when I’m upset and when Todd’s flirting with you but you can’t tell...”

Willie seemed to lose momentum, run out of battery. He wilted, looking down to the ground, and Alex had enough.

“What is your problem?” he yelled. He hadn’t meant to. In the empty room, his voice bounced off the walls, echoing around the pair of them. He heard the scorn in his own words and shattered. He sounded hateful – he never wanted to sound like that to Willie.

Willie stood there, silent, motionless. He looked like he would break if anything touched him, even as lightly as a butterfly. But then he swallowed thickly, blinked a few times (Alex prayed he wasn’t blinking tears from his eyes) and looked at Alex dead on.

“I’m going home,” he said, voice heavy. “I’m sorry.”

And without another word, he hurried out of the room, leaving a wide berth as he swerved around Alex and passed through the large double doors, out of sight.

That night, Alex lay in bed, unable to sleep. His mind, which usually wandered at night like it was out for a pleasant stroll, was stuck in one place like a broken record. All he could hear was his furious voice ricocheting off the museum’s walls, all he could see was Willie’s broken expression, all he felt was his own private kind of heartbreak.

He picked up his phone and opened up his chat with Willie. There was a long message that he’d written out waiting for him, he just hadn’t hit send. The words hadn’t felt right as he wrote them and they felt even worse as he read through them for what must have been the hundredth time. He erased the entire thing, left himself with a blank slate, but couldn’t find the words to fill it.

Instead of wasting time trying to locate words that didn’t want to be found, he turned his attention to Willie in another way. He opened up his camera roll and scrolled mindlessly through his photos. Some of them were photos of him, Julie, Reggie, and Luke. A lot of them were strange photos of things that Luke had sent to him, always captioned ‘this is you’. But a good third of all his photos were of him and Willie, or simply Willie by himself.

Him and Willie at the beach. Him and Willie on their trip to the farm. Him and Willie dressed up as an angel and devil on Halloween. Willie wearing a full suit of armour (Alex still didn’t know how Willie had got his hands on that). Willie behind Alex’s drums when Alex had unsuccessfully tried to teach him how to play. A selfie Willie had sent to him from A&E six months ago, his arm in a cast - it had been captioned ‘you can be the first to sign it’.

Their argument baffled Alex. He had no idea where any of it had come from. Until he came across one particular photo.

It wasn’t even of Alex and Willie, not really. It was focused on Reggie posing beside a statue like it was a real person. It had been taken when Alex, Willie, Reggie, Luke, and Julie had all spent a day in Hollywood as if they were tourists, trying to see everything for the first time, experiencing it all like it was brand new to them. There was a detail in the background however that caught Alex’s eye.

He zoomed in to see him and Willie sat together on a bench. Alex himself was looking at Reggie, laughing at his antics. He remembered it, specifically hoping that Julie wouldn’t accidentally get him in the photo when she took it. But next to Alex, Willie wasn’t looking at Reggie. His eyes were focused solely on Alex and on his face was the softest, most genuine smile he could have ever imagined. It was a smile he knew very well.

It was the same smile he wore himself whenever he was with Willie.

At that point, Alex realised two things. The first thing was that he was so completely and utterly in love with Willie that if he wasn’t careful it might actually have killed him and he had no idea how he hadn’t realised the extent of his feelings before. The second and more exciting thing was that if Alex’s suspicions were right then there was a chance Willie felt the same way. It was a terrifying thought, but the more he considered it the more sense it made.

That had been why Willie was so angry at Alex giving Todd his number. He didn’t dislike people flirting with Alex, and he didn’t like Todd and envy Alex for it. No, nothing of the sort. Willie was angry because he liked Alex.

Alex prayed he wasn’t misreading the situation. God only knew he was oblivious when it came to matters like this. Still, even though he had worked out what was going on, it left him wondering where he was supposed to go from here. What was he supposed to do? He still wanted to text Willie, reach out to him at long last, but their argument was still fresh in his mind and he wasn’t sure Willie would want to be contacted by him. Besides, he still had no idea what to say.

So he did nothing but lie in wait and eventually he fell into a fitful sleep.

Willie and Alex had a routine for Sundays as well. At midday, they would meet in the sand beneath the pier and simply be with each other. Sometimes they would just sit there and talk or rest in comfortable silence, sometimes they would stroll up and down the sand clasping each other’s hands, sometimes they’d chase each other across the beach and howl like excited children. Like the museum, Luke called these meet-ups dates, Reggie called them cute, Julie called them domestic, and now Alex could admit that maybe that’s what they were.

All he could do was hope that Willie would show up. They hadn’t spoken since the day before and Alex couldn’t be certain Willie would still want to see him today. Now he sat in the sand in the shade underneath the pier, watching the sea breathe as the waves rose and fell, swelling and drooping like a lazy heartbeat. The day was much warmer than the day before, the sun even brighter too.

He felt Willie drop into the sand beside him. Neither of them said a word. The only sounds were the crashing of the waves and footsteps above them from people walking up and down the pier.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d still come,” Alex ventured. It sounded lame. He wished he could have said something a little bit… more.

Willie shrugged. “It’s you. I’ll always come for you.”

It was such a typical thing for Willie to say, and so telling. Alex huffed a laugh, shaking his head fondly. He had no idea how he hadn’t clocked onto Willie’s feelings long before.

“What’s so funny?” Willie asked. There was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m an idiot,” Alex replied.

Another silence fell between them, lighter than before. Alex kept watching the sea, but found that his eyes kept straying in Willie’s direction. Willie was glancing around, watching gulls swoop through the sky, gazing at a dog that ran through the shallow water not far away, looking above at the wood of the pier above them. Alex watched as Willie’s fingers traced lazy, thoughtless patterns in the sand. The sand wasn’t wet so the patterns didn’t hold, grains cascading as soon as Willie’s fingers moved on, blurring whatever lines he made.

Alex didn’t think. He just took Willie’s hand. Willie, without so much as looking, linked their fingers together.

A beat passed. And another. The world faded to a haze of faded colours and dim white noise. Alex looked at Willie and Willie looked at Alex, and Alex couldn’t tell who moved first but a moment later they were kissing.

It was gentle but full of surety and care. Delicately deliberate. And it couldn’t have lasted more than five seconds before both pulled away. There was the tiniest of pauses and in unison both descended into giggles, clutching each other’s hands, foreheads pressed together.

It was everything Alex had ever imagined and so much more.

He couldn’t tell how long it was before they calmed down. Naturally, like it was all he was built to do, Willie leaned against Alex, his head on his shoulder, and took a deep, calm breath.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Alex said quietly. “I should have realised so much sooner.”

Willie laughed, merry but subdued. His long fingers started toying with the sand again – this time Alex was fairly sure that one of the patterns he drew was a heart. “Don’t apologise. It was both of us. We got there eventually, right?”

Alex chuckled, linking his fingers through Willie’s again. “Right. We got there in the end.”

And then, for no other reason than the fact that he could, he pressed a kiss to the top of Willie’s head.

“You missed,” Willie said, turning around. His eyes were glinting with something like mirth. Alex raised an eyebrow.

“I did?”

Willie nodded, placed a sand-covered hand on Alex’s cheek, and pulled him in for another kiss. Alex melted, his heart skipping a dozen beats at once, and realised once and for all that this thing he had with Willie definitely wasn’t just a friendship.

160 notes · View notes

hansolmates · 4 years

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cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment w/c; 3.3k a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse and @woozisnoots for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right.

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right.

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right.

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?”

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get.

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right.

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left.

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out.

Billiam has Super-liked you!

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam.

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick.

Billiam is typing…

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment.

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.”

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!”

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!”

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly.

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!”

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep.

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.”

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?”

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen.

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky.

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder.

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask.

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer.

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off.

He’s getting an incoming call. From you.

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard.

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up.

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this.

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up.

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?”

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it.

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.”

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.”

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity.

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?”

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?”

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.”

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit.

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?”

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.”

“Good night.”

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence.

The waning starts today.

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time?

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep?

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe.

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night.

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal.

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies.

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.”

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy.

“Who is it?”

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.”

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard.

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder.

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?”

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship.

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.”

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you.

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.”

Liar. He’s a liar.

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.”

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.”

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?”

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—”

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s.

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—”

“Uji?”

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm.

“Uh, hey?”

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement.

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!”

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away.

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?”

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together.

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down.

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?”

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him.

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.”

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look.

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?”

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch.

“It’s—”

“Complicated.”

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly.

“There’s things you’re not telling me.”

“Right.”

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add.

“Yes.”

“Then what are some things you can tell me?”

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.”

“Paperwork?”

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life?

“Okay,” you finally say.

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens.

“Really.”

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease.

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.”

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle.

#jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #caratwritersclub #kwritersworldnet #svtcreations #jihoon fic #woozi fic #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios

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insufferablelust · 4 years

Note

you and spencer teasing each other all day at work to see who breaks first and it ends with you and him have some rough sexy times in an empty office 🥵 (it do be horny hours rn)

if it isn’t one of my favorite tumblr accounts ever! such an honor to write this! i changed some stuff and its super long i know:( but hopefully you’ll still like it! thank you for requesting bub! i love you! (and yes HORNY HOURS = every hour basically for me)

OKAY WARNINGS BE RESPONSIBLE : THIS IS SMUT basically just porn, Semi-Public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, Dom!Spencer, Sub!reader, Fluff!!, Unprotected sex (don’t you dare!), um what else.. uh oh! bratty!reader, vibrating panties?, and some sprinkle of curious Prentiss + Garcia duo! as always excuse my grammatical errors, thank you.

Happy Reading, please feel free to send me more requests, Smut, fluff, angst, whichever you like! ❤️

it started out silly, you and Spencer have been together for a year now, after you joined the BAU, your fascination grew quickly for the doctor, the way he talk, the way he stuck out his lip when he concentrates, the way his fingers move when he’s explaining about quantum physics, and the way his stares could easily make someone give up control easily.

And lucky you, 5 months into the job it turns out that Spencer is equally smitten when it comes to you, the way you gaze up at him shyly, the way you can go from a tiny cute kitten to a mother lion, the way you run your mouth sometimes makes him want to shut you up, preferably with his lips against yours. As if you were both have always been meant to be, he sealed the relationship and now it has been going on for about a year.

Right from the beginning of your relationship, it’s always been clear that you’re the submissive out of the two, you both switch sometimes, but most of the time he loves the thrill and feeling of taking control over you, dominate you in smallest ways possible. Like picking what you wear sometimes, braiding your hair when you go out, setting up your bed time because you won’t sleep otherwise and you both need to works. Since you live together, in this household what Spencer Reid said goes, and you’re content with that, relinquishing control after days of catching serial killers and filling out paperworks feels so good and you definitely love when he takes care of you.

But when there’re rules, there are punishments. Now you see, you can get really bratty when you want to be, sometimes it’s not even intentional, maybe you have had a bad day and been snapping at your coworkers all day, at one time even snapped at Spencer when you were on a case, of course spencer won’t let that behavior slide so right after the case, let’s just say that you limped your way to the bullpen the very next day. Yet there are also times when you just act bratty on purpose, defying him, rolling your eyes, interrupt his ramblings, even tease him under the table during dinner- now that, that is the behavior that never fails to earn you the best nights of your lives.

And its an advantage for you when he proposed the idea, right on your anniversary eve. Spencer just finished showering as he entered the bedroom to find you reading one of Rossi’s newest book, he chuckled softly as he put on his pajamas and lays down next to you that cause you to immediately put down the book cuddle close to him. You glanced towards the analog clock beside Spencer as it read 23:55 on it, “it’s 5 minutes until—“

“Our anniversary, I know baby.” He interrupts, as he wrap his arms around you and placing soft kisses all over your face. “Do you know, astronomers estimates that there are about 100 thousand stars in the Milky Way alone?” He randomly mumbled, earning himself a giggle, as you softly ran your palm up and down his cheeks, “and your point being, Dr.Reid?”

“Oh I don’t know, if god is in fact real, I’m just grateful that the universe give me the brightest most powerful star amongst all. I mean isn’t that something?” He chuckled, looking down at you- directly at your eyes.

You feel your lips wobbled as a tear threaten to slip out of your eyes, before sniffling “hey, hey baby, why are you crying? Did I said something wrong” he worriedly placed leans on his elbow, lay you down on your pillows.

“No you dumb genius, I just love you so much and I don’t know what to do with it” You pouts as you hear him laughing the infamous Spencer’s laugh before leaning down to kiss your lips hungrily, cupping your jaw, and tangle your tongues together.

Your fingers manage to grip his hair, as you pull him off, gulping down a deep breath “w-were you trying to kill me?” To which he laughed and shrug “I was just showing you what to do with it, (y/n)”

“Mmm You can definitely show me more than that... sir” and with that his whole demeanor changes, like staring into a different person, you bit your lip in anticipation, feeling his palm roams up your sides, whilst his lip graze across your skin delicately- almost like he’s taunting you. Just as he was about to kiss you, he pulled back and grin,

“Is that so, love? I have a different idea in mind though” He smiles at your agape jaw, and the curiosity that’s glimmering through those glassy eyes, Spencer is a genius— you’re always excited on what he have in store for you in that brilliant mind of yours.

“May I know what it is, Dr.Reid?” Your heart flutter as you see him smiling, meaning he’s pleased with the way you asked. “You’ve been good for me, but i hope you haven’t forget that little stunt you pulled a week ago, i certainly haven’t, sweetheart.”

Your heart dropped as your thighs clenched together, a week ago right before a case, you were bratty, teased Spencer the whole day, from rubbing him underneath the table, and even pretended that you’ve dropped your fork so you can bend down. He was planning to pull you over his lap then and there but the plan got canceled right as Garcia announced that the LAPD needs them on a double homicide case. You honestly thought he has forgotten about it, but you cursed internally as you remember that your boyfriend has an eidetic memory.

“Oh look at you, your lips goes pale then you’re visibly shuddering. What? Don’t say you’ve forgotten about it”

“N-no sir! Its just that... I, are you going to punish me?”

“No, at least not until tomorrow night. How about, we play a little game?” He suggested, as he brush his thumb on your lower lip, and you suckle on it as a sign of agreement.

“Tomorrow, unless a case comes up, we’re both allowed to tease each other starting from the moment we wake up until we comes home from work. Whoever break first, looses and have to do everything the other person asks for the night plus the whole next day.”

If your panties wasn’t soaked already, it definitely is now. You shudder and nod in response, sucking his thumb contently before popping them out of your mouth “yes please sir, I would like that.”

“Good girl, now lay back and let’s savor tonight before we torture each other tomorrow.”

And at that, your anniversary night was perfect.

————— next morning

The first thing on your mind today is that it’s going to be sucks, waking up to your boyfriend nibbling the reminiscent of the last night’s marks on your neck is certainly not the way to go for you— not if you want to win this.

So like a good girl that you are, you push Spencer lightly so he’s laying on his back and straddle his hips, an innocent smile displayed on your face as you lightly grind your hips down— feeling him harden underneath you.

“Y/n, it’s not fair” the way his morning voice sounds makes you clench at nothing, fluttering your eyes shut before letting out an over exaggerated whimper “but you never said there are any rule but to have an actual sex and we aren’t having sex right now, aren’t we sir?” You batted your eyelash at him as you lick your lips slowly.

Spencer grunts, before gripping your hips and threw you onto the bed— his hand immediately settled itself on your neck, fingers right on top of your pulse pressing down. “Fine, kitten. You wanna play that way? we’ll play that way, but just know that i will always win so be ready to get ruined tonight” your parted your lips due to the lack of oxygen, letting out a bratty remark “Talk is c-cheap, sir”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he try to compose himself, but then he realized how you’re playing the game— he’s damn good at his job after all. So when you thought he was loosing it, he kept his calm and get off of you, before pressing a soft kiss on your cheeks.

“Happy anniversary baby, I love you. Let’s get ready for work okay?” and at that he’s walking to the shower, leaving you breathless and confused. Your hand itching to slip itself between your thighs, god you are soaking.

————

After an excruciatingly long shower and breakfast, you headed upstairs to change your clothes. As you were about to open your closet, Spencer calls you from the bedroom.

“Y/n, i want you to wear this today.”

You stepped into the bedroom as you see the outfit he laid on the bed, casual work outfit, a blouse, coat, and dress skirt— but what you see next is what makes your jaw dropped. The damn panties. For your 6 month anniversary, Spencer got you two sets of vibrating panties, the one he can actually control with his cellphone, now you’ve wore it dozens of times but never on the job, and definitely not when you’re in some type of game like this.

“Spencer that’s not fair!” You whined loudly and cross your arms in front of your chest, knowing damn well that if you wear the panties, you’ll lose immediately.

“But just like you said, No rules right? so as far as i’m concerned you’ll still obey every command i give you unless you safe word, isn’t that right baby?” Oh the bastard is definitely smug now,

“y-yes! but—“

“ah ah rules are rules princess, so unless you say the word, put on the damn panties and address me properly, it’s doctor or sir.” You’re definitely loosing but you damn will go down fighting.

————

Your team definitely realized that something is up between you and spencer, it’s 10 now and you’ve both been on your phones all day, Emily even noticed how you kept bang your knee against the desk today, which earned her a smile from you and a whisper of “oh just nervous tics” If only she knows how cruel these stupid panties are, you thought.

Spencer may have the upper hand but you certainly doesn’t make it easy for him either, every so often you will pass by his desk, and pretend to bend over to pick something you ‘accidentally dropped’ or rubbing his bulge underneath the table as you went to a nearby cafe for lunch with Morgan and Prentiss. and you can’t forget how flushed he becomes when you call him ‘Dr.Reid’ almost every time you talk to him. At one point you got him so good that he’s this close to pinning you on the nearest wall and just have his way with you. But Spencer is not one to lose, and you knows that better than anyone.

As the night comes, you and Spencer are right on the edge— just wanting to literally tear each other’s clothes off. Most of the people are already gone, That being JJ who left early because Henry is sick, Hotch and Rossi were on a meeting downstairs and Morgan got a date. Lastly, Penelope and Emily is picking up a classified unsolved murder case file from the police department, which meant you and spencer has approximately an hour before Hotch and Rossi finishes their meetings or Penelope and Emily went back.

Of course, Spencer caught on that too, that’s why you’re struggling to not moan due to the immense pleasure you’re feeling between your thighs, all day today he never set the settings to the highest level because he may be cruel but he knows your limit— but now, now is the perfect time to win.

Your legs starts to shake feeling yourself getting so close that you know you can’t take it anymore. Shakily reaching your phone, you typed in a message quickly,

“You win. The empty office near storage, now” you typed in quickly, dragging yourself to the office near Garcia’s den and leaning against the desk, muttering curses of swear words.

“Normally i would be mad at you for demanding that way but seeing how needy you seemed, i decided to be nice and let that slide” You turned around before hurriedly locking the door behind him, reached down to grab his phone and turn off the vibration— steadying your breathing as you lean against his chest.

“you a-are mean” you blurted out, gnawing your teeth at the base of his collar, fingers clawing at his dress shirt as you greedily rub your nipples against his front— god you’ll do absolutely anything for this man.

“Oh you thought that was mean? I’ll give you mean, you little slut” He whispered and laughed deeply beside your ear— earning himself a moan from you.

Your eyes widen as he effortlessly carried you to the center of the room where the desk sat, and place you down on the edge of it, His fingers skillfully taking your blouse off as his lips are against yours in a bruising kiss.

He trailed his kisses downwards, biting and licking the pulse point on your neck as his hand brush so delicately against your clothed panties— you moaned out loudly as you buck your hips and grip his hair. Spencer looks up at you before shaking his head disappointedly, taking off his belt, tying your hands on your back, and shove his tie onto your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Now there you go, my helpless baby. Just enjoy this and don’t make a sound” He whispered before bending down to take your panties off, sliding them down your legs and bunch your skirt up around your waist before taking his own pants off and grip the base of his cock,

“Ready sweetheart?” He breathlessly asked, laughing when he pretend to be shocked when you can’t answer, shakes his head before pushing himself into you slowly— “oh fuck, so tight— and warm” he grunts against your neck.

Your head thrown back as you feel him start to move, your muffled moans could be heard as you feel the intense pleasure from the way his cock brushes against your sweet spot everytime he thrusts into you, pulling his tie from your mouth.

“Thats it baby, keep quiet alright? we don’t want anyone to find out how needy and messy you are. So good for me, my good girl” He praised and praised, which makes you mewl, trying to suppress it as best as you could. “Oh! ah ah! Sir please!” You aren’t even sure what is it you’re begging anymore, you just need him to keep fucking you and make you cum.

“please what? hm? please what sweet girl?” His breathing is heavy as he pounds his cock with a brutal pace, feeling himself getting close, as your walls clenched around him “Such a tight cunt.” He groaned. “Please— m-may i cum? please sir! i’ve been good” you gripped the sides of his belt as you feel your high right on the teetering edge, letting out a loud scream as soon as he said,

“Cum, Now. Do it for me, cum baby— fuck that’s it, good girl” every praises spill out of his lips as he keeps on pounding you, before letting himself release inside you, making you whine in sensitivity and the filling of being full- full of him. After cleaning yourself up, you checked the clock, that shows you’ve been there for an hour and few minutes, sighing as you tried to stand up

“I love you, Spencer Reid” Your legs wobble when youre about to fall, Spencer immediately catch you and steady you up on your feet, slightly chuckling “I love you too baby, happy anniversary”. After few more kisses and some steadying, you walked out of the empty office back to your desks in the bullpen, smiling to yourself as you look around to find that no one’s there.

Except, you never bothered to look in the right direction— garcia thought as she tried to erase the memory of seeing the team’s two babies fucking like animals. Oh well thank god it wasn’t Morgan.

————

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#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurbs #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spenced reid x y/n #insufferableblurb #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds smut #dom!spencer

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gallickingun · 4 years

Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* mobile masterlist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

main blog | writing tag for browsing | archiveofourown

please feel free to send me requests to MY ASK BOX!

currently writing for: dragon ball z, and my hero academia. i do not tag drabbles and/or thirst posts here, only full length fics.

as if it needed to be said, i always make sure every character i write for is of age, regardless of whether or not there is “of age” content that is in the fic!

LAST UPDATED: may 20, 2020

REQUEST STATUS: open | CURRENT # of REQUESTS: 149

fic: moving target word count: 12.3k rated: t+ warnings: violence, language, a lil spice, a creepy scene using a quirk, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: bodyguard au summary/excerpt: Bakugou Katsuki’s reputation needs a little work. His manager and agent suggest he take a job as a personal bodyguard to one of the agency’s biggest donors, looking after his daughter, in order to increase his social standing and rise back up in the hero ranks. Bakugou agrees, reminding himself that whoever he’s babysitting is nothing more than a glorified paycheck, a stepping ladder to get closer to surpassing even All Might in hero status. But, when you’re kidnapped, he has to face the truth that you might mean more to him than he planned.

fic: turn it out for me word count: 2,205 rated: m/e+ warnings: spice, language, blood, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: "You’ve got something on your mouth. Here, let me.” summary/excerpt: Katsuki keeps you under his thumb for hours, it feels like. You’re sure at some point you stopped breathing or your eyes rolled back too far and they’re stuck. However, he does not let up long enough for you to care. Bakugou is heavy as he loiters over the top of you, knees on either side of you as he lays you out, bare as a baby. “Kacchan,” you whimper, your head thrown back as his fingers probe at you again, teasing your nipples under his harsh touch. Bakugou chuckles, leaning back on his thick thighs to glower down at you, “Yeah, baby?”

fic: please, i beg of you word count: 5.3k rated: m/e+ warnings: praise kink, emotions, language, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: praise kink summary/excerpt: Bakugou has always been arrogant, but it is in these moments when you find him to be nothing more than a prodigy child begging to be a worthy man. Maybe your words can help soothe the burn on his tired soul.

fic: rivals and friends word count: 1.3k rated: t+ warnings: violence, language, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: “only you can call me that” summary/excerpt: He pauses, hand frozen on your shoulder blade. You smile but it’s ironic, “I’m headed to a new agency. You can have this whole class of sidekicks to yourself now. You can kick all their asses.” Bakugo blinks, and the thing he says next is confusing, “What the hell? You’re just-leaving?”

fic: suckerpunch word count: 4.3k rated: t+ warnings: violence, language, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: “it’s 2am and I’m calling you because I need you” // boxer!au summary/excerpt: “Fuck,” Bakugou brushes the heels of his hands over his eyes, one completely swollen shut and the other weeping uncontrollably. He fumbles in his pocket for his phone, bloody fingertips smearing over his screen. Another string of expletives tumble from his lips before he can find your name in his contacts. He can’t help but note the time on his phone - 2:37 am. “Please pick up,” Bakugou swallows the growing lump in his throat, “C’mon, pl-oh, hey.” Your voice rings out on the other end of the receiver, gravelly from sleep but he can’t even notice because he’s just so thankful that you’re awake now. His voice cracks when he speaks next, “C-Can you…shit, can you come pick me up?”

fic: rise up word count: 2.6k rated: t+ warnings: violence, language, a lil spice, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: “katsuki only calls reader by her real name” summary/excerpt: "You don’t see us as equals, do you?” He smirks, “Well, I am the one on top of you while you beg for mercy, so you tell me.” Your face burns bright red at his words and he falters, his breath hitching. He didn’t really mean it, it just slipped out. Or, rather, he didn’t mean for it to come across so honest.

fic: take me home word count: 409 rated: t+ warnings: alcohol, language, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: drunk!bakugou summary/excerpt: “Damn, you’re so heavy,” you grumble, holding him up by the shoulders, a majority of his body laying over you. “Ever think about going on a diet?” He pokes his finger into your cheek, “You’se try wavin’ those fuckin’ gauntlets around with chicken arms.”

fic: vice versa word count: 1.2K rated: t+ warnings: language, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: Bakugou getting hit by a quirk that makes him all sweet and clingy whit his s/o? He just wants cuddles! summary/excerpt: “You listen here, you half-pint!” Bakugou is collecting the sweat in his palms, biding time as he curses at the villain, “I’m gonna knock your ass sky high, you hear me? You’re gonna regret the day you were born!” Bakugou knows the whole reason that he got assigned to this mission was because it was going to be a quick one - nothing more than a d-list villain trying to make a name for themselves by flashing their quirk in public. He’s getting closer, stalking them down on the pavement as he feels the moisture building on his skin. He squeezes his hand, cocking the grenade-esque gauntlet on his right arm, a wicked grin on his lips as his eyes widen. The pin has barely left the mechanism before the villain is twisting in midair, legs twirling just enough to propel them forward. They flip, brushing the crown of Bakugou’s head with their fingertip - just enough that their quirk reaches out like tendrils to wrap around his body. The momentary distraction allows the other support hero to blast the villain with a stun-net, trapping them and detaining them to the asphalt. Bakugou turns, dazed and confused, but all he knows is he wants to get home to you.

fic: so special {to me} word count: 728 rated: t+ warnings: language, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: “katsuki uses a lot of nicknames for reader/SO” summary/excerpt: “Anyone hear Bakugou call her angel the other day?” Kirishima mutters behind the wall of his palm, looking at the others with wide eyes. You and Katsuki are currently at the noodle counter, standing close as he pays for the two of you to grab some lunch while you’re out with your friends. It’s winter break, college courses pausing just long enough for you to catch your breath. “I heard him say babe for the first time, I swear.” Denki chuckles, kicking his feet up into Kirishima’s lap. “He’s head over heels, that Bakugou.” Kirishima scoffs, “At least she doesn’t have a crude nickname like Shitty Hair.”

fic: sweet ass, smart ass word count: 2,355 rated: m/e+ warnings: a lil spicy, language, alcohol, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: bakugo’s SO likes to comment on his body, specifically his ass summary/excerpt: “Seriously, babe, it must be a side effect of your quirk, ‘cause you have a pretty sweet ass.” “I swear to Christ.” You smirk from over your glass, raising a brow as if to challenge him in this room full of people. You nudge his calf with the toe of your shoe underneath the table, everyone’s breath caught in their throats as they await what comes next. All Bakugou can do is grunt, turn his head to the side so no one can see the pink tinge on his cheeks, and take a long drag of his beer.

fic: something lost word count: 1,232 rated: t+ warnings: sadness ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: bakugou + SO losing a pregancy summary/excerpt: “You did nothing wrong,” he murmurs against your ear, holding you close. “This isn’t your fault.” “It’s my body, Kacchan. Kind of feels like my fault.” You swear you see the threat of tears making his eyes bulge when you look him directly in the face. Your lower lip wobbles, “I-I wasn’t strong enough.” His hands are rough as he snatches you by the jaw, holding you captive, “Shut the hell up, do you hear me?”

fic: kiss me slowly word count: drabble rated: k warnings: none! ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: bakugou + secret relationship summary/excerpt: You retweet an emotional message and Bakugou feels guilty.

fic: keep my secrets safe word count: 1.7k rated: t warnings: language ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: bakugou + talking in his sleep summary/excerpt: Bakugou hates covert work. And he’s hungry. But also, apparently he talks in his sleep?

fic: toxic kiss, forbidden words word count: 1,704 rated: t+ warnings: spicy, language, etc. ship: bakugou katsuki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: fwb + “I think I’m in love with you” summary/excerpt: Your legs start to give out, unable to hold this position for much longer. You tap his calf with your toes, getting his attention. Bakugou’s palm drifts down your thigh, his body slowing as he leans to look at the only visible part of your face over your shoulder. Bakugou can tell what your silent direction means, and so he pushes your knee at just the right angle that he can flip your body. Your back is flush with the mattress, the heat from your skin stark contrast to the cool sheets; it feels refreshing, so much so that your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation. The way he looks down at you makes you want to break your one rule; the one thing you both said would help you keep this nothing more than it is.

fic: break the glass {in case of emergency} word count: 21.2k+ rated: m/e+ warnings: language, smut, slight violence, etc. ship: todoroki shouto x reader prompt/scenario/trope: single father pro hero shouto summary/excerpt: Todoroki Shouto needs help, so he hires a nanny. More specifically, he hires you.

fic: uncontrollable, uncontainable word count: 697 rated: t+ warnings: blood, violence, language ship: todoroki shouto x reader prompt/scenario/trope: todoroki + first kiss summary/excerpt: “I should have pulled back,” he starts to stammer, “I-I swore I wouldn’t use this side of me, because I can’t control it. Today taught me that.” “No,” you shake your head, voice coming out hoarse. When you swallow the lump in your throat, it pushes your tears over the edge, two little streams following the curvature of your cheeks. Shouto squeezes your palm, “I am no better than Endeavor - than my father.” “You are not your father,” you pinch the inside of his wrist, “hear me?”

fic: tomorrow is too far word count: 977 rated: g warnings: fluff - tooth rotting cuteness! ship: todoroki shouto x reader prompt/scenario/trope: todoroki + “unexpected hand touching” summary/excerpt: You sling your backpack over your shoulders and he takes the first step towards the exit, holding the door open for you once he gets there. It’s silent as you walk down the stairs and out the front entrance, the cool evening air washing over you like a balm. “Wow,” you breathe in the sunshine-laced air, feeling rejuvinated, “it’s beautiful.” Shoto tilts his head, considering you while you’re distracted, “Yeah, it is.”

fic: only for a moment {maybe for forever} word count: 1,069 rated: t+ warnings: alcohol, language, etc. ship: kirishima x reader prompt/scenario/trope: kiri + fake relationship summary/excerpt: “Please, just for a minute,” you say in a whisper before tensing back up, leaning further into him. It’s as if you’re getting back into character, the fog slipping over your face again, “You’re too sweet. I’ll pick up the next round, ‘kay?”

fic: you’re my home word count: 923 rated: g warnings: none! ship: kirishima x reader prompt/scenario/trope: kiri + tired cuddling summary/excerpt: “Wanna cuddle?” you ask, already knowing the answer. It’s not uncommon for Kirishima to need to recharge his battery when he gets home, and usually that’s fulfilled by curling up together on the couch and eating some greasy food. He is always calmed by your touch, by the anchor you give him to the real world, as he likes to refer to it.

fic: stars in my eyes, love in my touch word count: 2,769 rated: m/e+ warnings: spicy, language, etc. ship: kirishima x reader prompt/scenario/trope: kiri + pregnant!reader + fluff summary/excerpt: His mouth trails, pert blushed lips tickling your body, from your collarbones to your belly. He laughs once he gets to your navel, his voice soft as he speaks, “Not givin’ mama a hard time, are ya’?” Your heart warms at the sight of Kirishima mumbling to your unborn child, his fingertips tracing patterns and names over the stretched skin. He never fails to make you feel beautiful and important, especially not now. Kiri is always telling you how amazing you look, even if it’s in a pair of sweatpants and one of his tee shirts. “You’re so perfect, you know that?” Kiri kisses the top of your belly before pushing himself closer to your face. He’s smiling as he kisses you gently, much in contrast to the past couple of hours you’ve spent between the sheets. He doesn’t mind, though, not right now when your hormones are raging and you want every bit of him that he has to offer. Kirishima kisses your cheek before pulling away, tugging you close so you can curl up into him, “I don’t know who I had to bribe in another life to get lucky with someone like you, but thank goodness I did it.”

fic: when liquid courage fails word count: 1,389 rated: t+ warnings: alcohol, language, etc. ship: deku x reader prompt/scenario/trope: izuku + drunken confession summary/excerpt: “I don’t want to be best friends anymore,” he sniffles, his lips quirking as he tries to make the next words come out of his mouth. “I can’t be best friends a-anymore.” “Did I do something wrong?” You ask, racking your brain for something you could’ve said or done in the past couple of months to set him off, but you come up blank. You start to sweat, your hands flying around when you speak, “Deku, y-you could’ve told me, we could talk abo-” “No,” he reaches up to circle his hand around your wrist, tugging you back down to earth. He’s laughing, which is much unlike him, but it makes you pause, “This is why Kacchan told me to get drunk. B-Because I can’t think straight around you and I always screw it up.”

fic: quiet confessions word count: 763 rated: t+ warnings: n/a ship: vegeta x reader prompt/scenario/trope: “You’re in a coma and I confessed all my feelings for you only for you to wake up” summary/excerpt: “Stupid woman,” he speaks almost affectionately, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. “You’ve got to wake up, so I can tell you where my mind is at, what I’m thinking. Don’t you owe me that much?” He waits, patience wearing thin as your heart beats slower with time. As the machine echoes loudly in the room, he tries to even his breathing in tandem with the sounds. “No, I guess you don’t owe me anything.” His lower lip trembles, but he grits his teeth, straining his jaw muscles. “If there’s anyone who owes anyone else, it’s me. I owe you my life.”

fic: remember me word count: 6.9k+ rated: t+ warnings: mild language and violence, etc. ship: tamaki amajiki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: flower shop au summary/excerpt: Tamaki Amajiki saves a civilian. He doesn’t expect her to buy him coffee and teach him about the wiles of floral culture.

fic: vanilla soft serve word count: 754 rated: t+ warnings: none! ship: tamaki amajiki x reader prompt/scenario/trope: tamaki + first kiss summary/excerpt: Maybe it was the way you looked with ice cream on the tip of your nose. Or maybe it was the fact that his pulse was thudding in his ears. It might even be the way that your eyelashes flutter against the tops of your cheeks when you smile. Whatever it is, it makes Tamaki’s heart leap into his throat.

fic: rule breaker word count: 708 rated: t+ warnings: alcohol, language, etc. ship: tenya iida x reader prompt/scenario/trope: tenya + being hit by a personality reversing quirk summary/excerpt: “Yeah, babe, I’m fine!” He’s laughing now, tugging you forward to wrap you up into his thick arms. You’re sighing, falling into his embrace, taking it even though it feels foreign somehow. Tenya giggles in your ear, “Wanna head home?” The blush on your face magnifies tenfold; you know that Deku had to hear that as he passed by to say goodnight. Your eyes go wide and you tilt your head back, but Tenya is nothing if not smug. You allow you mind to wander for a second and you swear that he meant for Izuku to hear him. “Sure, but you’re not driving,” you mutter, grabbing him by the wrist.

fic: going rogue word count: 949 rated: g warnings: none! ship: tenya iida x reader prompt/scenario/trope: “just tell me why you did it! because i love you!” + you caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out summary/excerpt: “Now is not the time to be self-righteous, Iida!” You step closer, your knees knocking into the iron railing of the hospital bed, “You are going to face charges! This wasn’t a sanctioned mission, you practically went rogue! Just tell me why you did it!” What comes out of his mouth next is not something you ever could have guessed or suspected.

fic: stranded on a rooftop word count: 587 rated: g warnings: none! ship: keigo/hawks x reader prompt/scenario/trope: keigo + “soft smile before leaning in for a kiss” summary/excerpt: “Not a problem, sweetheart,” his thumb notches underneath your chin, keeping your attention no matter how much you want to look away. “I love helping out a sweet little damsel in distress.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

#bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #bnha one shot #morgan writes bnha #my writing #mobile masterlist #todoroki shouto x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #keigo takami x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #tenya iida x reader #vegeta x reader #izuku midoriya x reader

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years

Text

The Guy

Author’s Note: Hello my lovelies! I have to say, I love writing requests and taking part in Challenges. It helps me sharpen my skills! But, with the insane way the world is right now, I offered to participate in one... then lost the details. So, with my sincere appreciation for @lancsnerd ,who kindly sent me a reminder about my missing “assignment”, I present the following! Summary/ Prompt: A quote of “He’s the guy” and my boy, Loki Pairing: Female Reader x Loki Warnings: Swearing, Implied Smut, Fluff, Soft Loki

“Are you gonna tell me what I want to know? Or… do we have to do this the hard way?” Gravel filled and low, the Winter Soldier had you pinned against the rough brick wall, his metal arm holding your wrists together.

“Ooph! Bucky! Get off!” “Make me, princess!”

Kicking your legs free, you swung around Bucky, locking him in a bear hug from behind. Squeezing him with your thighs, your forearms wrapped around his strong neck, “Tap out, Buck!” Wheezing, staggering back, Bucky tried spinning you around but even his metal arm was unable to grab you, “Never!” Applying more pressure to his windpipe, you grunted, “Give me the win!” “No way”, you felt his hard hand grip your thigh, breaking your hold. Suddenly you were untethered, above your feet was the ceiling of the gym, and then there was no breath in your lungs. Bucky had managed to flip you over and slam you down onto the waiting mat with reverberating force. Gasping loudly, you curved up to meet Bucky’s waiting hand, “You alright, doll?”

Shaking your head, sitting up, “That was a dirty trick, Barnes. I had you and you know it.” “Yea… but you still haven’t answered my question, so I couldn’t let you win.” Pulling you to your feet easily, Bucky threw his arms around you, his warm hug an easy way to make sure there would be no lasting damage from your sparring session. “Why do you want to know so bad?” Lowering yourself to the workout bench, forearms resting on your knees, you kept a close watch on your sparring partner. Tossing you a towel, Bucky grabbed both of your water bottles, sitting down on the mat in front of you. Wiping the sweat away from your forehead, slugging down the cool water, you kicked at the super soldier sitting criss cross applesauce. Leaning back, resting his weight on his arms stretched behind him, “Because... I worry about you. I want to make sure you’re safe… and I want to believe this guy is good enough for you.” Considering his words, you snapped your bottle shut, nodding, “I get it, Bucky. I really do. I’m just… not ready to talk about it.” Sensing your hesitation, Bucky patted your knee, “Just know that I’m here when you are ready. And if he fucks up, I’ll kill him.” Laughing, you stood up with a groan, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind!” At dinner that night, Steve knocked into your shoulder, “Hey kiddo.”

“Hey Stevie! How are you?” “It’s spaghetti night, what more does a guy need?” It was an easy exchange, making you chuckle as he loaded a plate high with pasta and sauce before settling himself into the chair next to you. Unfolding a napkin to lay over his trousers, “Bucky told me you’ve met someone?” Flicking your eyes to the Winter Soldier, who all of the sudden was very interested in something Tony was saying, you munched on your garlic bread. Swallowing thickly and patting your mouth clean, you turned to Steve, “Oh, he did huh?” “Yes… but he says you won’t give up this guy’s name?” Concern was present on your friend’s face. While you appreciated Steve's sentiment, it wasn't necessary, not entirely. You knew what you were doing and you didn't want to be talked out of it, even by your well intentioned friends.

"I don't know why everyone cares so much. He's a guy… I'm a girl… it's traditional and boring."

Swirling a fork through his saucy plate, lifting those dutiful blue eyes to yours, "So why the secrecy?"

Chewing, thoughtful, you considered Steve's question. It was valid. You were quick to acknowledge that, answering, "Um… because we're still in that love bubble. Ya know?"

Chiming in, Bucky curious now, "Love bubble? I don't know what that is… what does that mean? Love bubble?"

"It's that time in a new relationship when… um… it's like…" words failing, you desperately tried to give structure to your argument.

Interrupted by Loki, sulking at the end of the long table, "She doesn't want to share her paramore. Greedily, she wants to keep the pair in a love bubble. Separate and safe from any interference. Unpopped, if you will."

"Is that true? You don't want us to bug you?" Bucky's eyes widened at the thought.

Shrugging, you dug around for another meatball, "Kinda… Look, it's not that I don't love you, Buck. Or that I don't trust you, Steve. It's just… all of you can be a lot to deal with. And-" looking at the faces of each of your Avenger friends, "-my… guy… I really, really like him. I don't want to scare him away."

Admitting it out loud, that was taking a lot of your courage but you were being completely honest. This guy, he was just about perfect and you didn't want to blow that by bringing him around your overprotective people so soon. Natasha, the group's mama bear, smiled. "Seems reasonable to me. Give her some time, fellas… if he's half as great as she says, we'll like him well enough."

Steve, smiling a little in your direction, "I don't know who he is… but it seems like he makes you happy!"

Bucky, over protective, kept hounding you, "When will I get to meet him?"

"Soon, Buck. I promise."

"I wonder who it is… this man you care about so much that you're protecting him from us, your dearest friends!" It was Loki, musing from afar that made the observation, his sharp eyes on you.

"I told you-" It was Tony’s turn to interrupt, loudly calling, “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” “Start a pool. Five dollar buy in, guesses on who this guy is… whoever has the winning answer gets the kitty!” “Tony! Not cool! And, not necessary! You guys don’t really need to do this!” But your protests went unheard as chatter erupted and a round of bills were flung on the table. Steve, murmuring to Bucky across the table, “What was that guy at the coffee shop? Cameron? Carson?” Snapping his fingers, Bucky answered, “Carlton!”

“He’s my guess, Tony.” “Shit, Steve. That’s not fair… but, ok. Ok, my guess is Matt. That guy from the pizza place who kept bringing extra chicken fingers for you! You’d never admit to a date with him!” Bucky, smug and pleased, sat back content with his detective work.

“Natasha? Thoughts?” Tony was typing away, his interface with FRIDAY recording all the back and forth, compiling the list of possible boyfriend candidates. Tapping her lip, Nat watched you, “Hmm… Is it Warren? The kid from China Star who rode the Kawasaki and always wanted to take you for a ride?”

Clint leaned over you, grabbing a breadstick as he threw down a ten, “I want to put Charles, from the IT department on the list… and Juan, the recycling rep. Both of those guys follow you around like puppies and I could see you taking pity on at least one of them!” “Nope. No way! She went out with Charles once already. He was the guy who ate her french fries at dinner. Big No-No!” “Rhodes, how do you remember that shit? Fine, not Charles then. What about Frankie? The dude from the diner?” Clint asked the assembled team, looking for someone to back him up.

Mortified, hiding behind your hands, you grimaced. The list, it kept growing, and you could feel icy eyes of judgement lighting you up from across the room. You knew you’d have to answer questions later.

Jane, having joined Thor at the table, was getting caught up on your situation. Conspiring with her Norse God of a boyfriend, she chuckled, slapping a bill on the table with the announcement, “Our money is on Loki.”

Silence overtook the room. Everybody stared at the small, brunette scientist, evaluating if her suggestion was real or a joke. A guffaw broke out of you and quickly gathered steam, propelling you directly into a hiccup filled giggle fit. In a flash everyone joined in, the idea of you and Loki being together was at once so hilarious and unbelievable. It was also diverting enough that the talk of your love life died completely. Grateful and satisfied, you finished dinner without any other questions, even offering to do the dishes. While you were scraping remnants into the compost bucket, you felt the room’s temperature drop, noticing that Loki had slid into the room, "Love bubble is it?"

Dropping the plates into the sink, plunging your hands into the soapy water, his strong ones glide over your shoulders, "Yes. I'm really enjoying our little bubble of love."

“Me too.” Pressing a small kiss to the curve of your neck, Loki pulled your body close, hugging you tightly from behind. As Loki was nearly a foot taller than you, it was nothing to tip your head up, his welcome mouth finding yours for a soft kiss. Curving your back, your bottom rubbed against his pelvis, his desire already rising. “Although, they had a lot of suggestions, my innocent little kitten. Should I be worried?” Shaking your head, “No. None of those… meatballs compare with you, Loki.” “Good. That makes me glad… and I’m pleased to know how coveted you are, my pet.” Roving hands took the liberty of sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingertips just grazing over your bra covered breasts.

Sighing into Loki’s loving touch, “Not that you were much help!"

"What can I say? I like seeing you squirm" his lethal voice purred, warm against your ear.

Pirouetting in his arms, your damp hand brushing back a strand of dark curls, "Jane almost gave us away.” A small smile, almost sad, pulled down Loki’s lips, “Is the idea of you loving me so hilarious?”

“Not to me.”

His head dipped, lowering those pink lips to your own, almost colliding… when laughter, drawing near, broke your moment of connection. Effectively ending your private chat, Thor stomped confidently into the room unaware of the way Loki jumped back as if scalded, or the way your hands trembled at the possibility of discovery. “Brother! I need to speak with you!” Flicking his desire filled eyes to yours, Loki smirked, “Of course… to what do I owe the honor?” “I have asked Jane to be my bride!” “Brother! It’s about time Jane made an honest man out of you!” Loki, more than a little surprised but genuinely pleased for his sibling, hugged Thor close. “YAY! That’s so exciting! Have you guys picked a date yet?” Wiping your hands dry, leaning against the sink, you were happy to hear all of Thor's big news. Shaking his blonde head excitedly, “We shall be wed in three months time… and I was hoping that Loki would play for our special day?”

Loki, blushing a deep rosy pink, “Thor… It’s been years.”

“So? What of that, God of Mischief? You always find a way”, wagging a finger at his dark hued brother, Thor’s teasing grin was sweet. Piling on excuses, trying to gently defer his brother’s marital request, Loki added, “I don’t think I have a suitable instrument.”

That was enough for your mouth to hang open, “Wait… you want Loki to perform? Like play music? At your wedding?” “Of course! He’s the best chamber musician in Asgard. Possibly the entire Nine Realms.” Pride filled Thor’s words at Loki’s accomplishments, something you found impossibly charming, even if you couldn’t quite believe what he said was true.

“Thor, really… I don't think-" Clapping a broad hand onto his younger brother's shoulder, Thor’s tone changed, “Music from home, Loki. It would mean so much, especially since… Mother and Father-”

Loki held up a hand, stopping Thor from going further into emotional sincerity, unable to bear the rawness in his brother’s words. Closing his eyes, agreeing, “Fine. Ok, I’ll… I’ll do it!’ Loki could sense your watchful eyes on him, curious and questioning, as he gave into his older brother.

With his easy smile spreading, Thor’s joy pushed the cloud of sadness away, “Our special day will be filled with music! And flowers! Jane has a whole… Pinterest board? I don’t know what that is but she’s filled it with ideas-” spinning around to grab you off your feet, Thor continued, “And you’ll be invited too! All of the team must come, not just my wayward brother!” Getting swept up in Thor’s passionate excitement, you laughed, offering up more congratulations and promises of attending. As your toes touched the floor, Thor pulled Loki away, “Jane says you will take Darcy as a date for the ceremony.” Tilting his head, Loki shrugged shyly, speaking loud enough for you to hear, “Uh… actually, I already have a date.” Gripping Loki in a rib smashing hug, Thor squeezed his little brother tightly, “That is marvelous news! Jane will be so pleased! So, who’s the lucky girl?” Smiling, you watched them go, happy to see the pair so connected. You didn’t need to hear Loki’s answer. You knew who he’d be taking to Thor’s wedding.

That night, as you were toweling dry your cropped hair, a pop of green light signaled the arrival of your secret boyfriend. He was positively electric, grabbing you by the terry robe covered hips, and kissing you swiftly. Loki's hands rubbed over the soft fabric on your back until they cradled your smiling face, "Hmm… you smell so clean that it makes me think dirty thoughts."

Giggling, you rose up on your toes, curling your hands into his tangle of dark hair. You bent his waiting mouth to your own, savoring the sensation of shared breath, as your tongue flicked over Loki's lips, “Dirtier than that?” Nodding, his heated look hungry, “Oh yes.” "How dirty are we talking?", you teased, resting your cheek against Loki's chest. His rich laugh, rumbling through his core, joined your own. Pressing his forehead to yours, Loki sighed sweetly, "I missed you…"

"I just saw you at dinner!"

"But it's been too long. I… I need more."

Turning to hang up your towel, over your shoulder, "More what, my prince?"

"More of you." Having gained on you while your back was turned, Loki was behind you now, wrapping his long arms around your waist.

Squealing, delighted, "LOKI! Someone will hear!"

Dropping you quickly on the mattress, Loki shimmied up beside you, toying with the open collar on your robe, "So?"

"So… they'll find you here."

Thoughtfully, Loki’s proud look captured your own, "Maybe I don't care. Not anymore… Maybe I don't want to keep you and me… us, a secret."

Swallowing hard, your gaze trapped by Loki's earnest expression, "Really? You're ready to pop the love bubble?"

His fingertips brushed over the thin skin between your breasts, "Yes? I… I think so. Are you?"

Biting on your bottom lip, scrutinizing his handsome face, "Loki, I…"

Freezing, his hand stalled, and Loki sat back on his heels. Looking out your window, shoulders slumping in resignation, "You don't want to tell anyone. You are ashamed to be with me."

Swiftly sitting up, cupping his face with your hands, crooning, "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

Shrugging away from your touch, "You don't care for me, not like you claim to, if you won't declare your feelings for all to hear."

"Loki! That's not it at all."

Letting you tug him closer, Loki's tear filled eyes still refused to meet your own, "Loki… I… I love you. And… I just don't want to share you. Not yet, anyway. That is-" putting your arms around his neck until you were nose to nose with the red-rimmed eyes of an emotional Odinson, "-my only reason for keeping our romance quiet."

Whispering, Loki was too shocked to shake you off, "You… love me?" His voice wavered, as if the idea of being loved by you had never been a real possibility, as if something impossible was occurring right here and now.

On your knees, sighing, you started pressing tiny kisses along those sharp as knives cheekbones, "Yes. I am crazy in love with you, Loki Odinson."

Loki had held you tightly before; in the night when terrific dreams haunted his sleep, in the night when he claimed your body for his own. But this embrace, after telling the dark Prince the truth in your heart, had no equal.

Still taller than you, even though you were both kneeling, Loki's right arm wove around your waist forcing your hips flush with his own. His left supported your back, his hand cradling the nape of your neck, helping him kiss you soundly. It was conquering.

You were his. Body and soul. What's more? He was yours.

Coming up for air, panting from the work of loving you, "My dove, my dearest one… I love you too."

Shucking your robe was easy and Loki savored the lavender soap scented skin he exposed. If a spot of you wasn’t kissed, it was licked. If not licked, nipped. If not nipped, it was caressed. And Loki was very thorough. When you mewled, weak from forced pleasure, “Loki… please. Make love to me.” he was eager to comply. “Look at me, darling girl.” Puffing out your pleasure filled breath, skin dewy with perspiration, you met Loki’s eyes with your own. Resting his hand over your heart, he lifted your own, letting you feel the pattern of his pulse. “It beats for you and for you alone.” In the afterglow, laying in Loki’s arms, you stifled another giggle. Groggy from exertion, Loki opened one eye, “What’s so funny?” “You never told me you play a musical instrument.” “You never asked.”

“Are you any good?”

“You’ll find out when you accompany me to Thor’s wedding.” --- With his heavy cello, Loki took a seat on the edge of the dance floor, taking just a moment to get settled. A beautifully strange combination of concentration and relaxation mingled over the features you loved so dearly. Fiddling with strings, taking a moment to tune the instrument, you admired his long, talented fingers as they took their place on the frets. The din of conversation was silenced when the first low note of Loki’s song echoed through the ballroom. Everyone paused, entranced at the melody weaving its way through the throng of well wishers. Many were surprised, but not you, not entirely. You knew how long Loki had been preparing for this moment. It wasn’t all about making Thor’s day special, although, that was surely part of it. No, he planned to seduce every single person with sound. Giving all of the attendees a taste of what being loved by Loki was like, he hoped The Avengers would see that he was worthy of you in all ways. Mesmerized, the bow danced over the strings, each note perfectly played. It wasn’t hard to picture those shapely digits dancing over your skin in the dark of night. Sending a shiver up your back, you sipped at your champagne, unwilling to take your eyes off of Loki. “I didn’t know he was so talented.” Bucky, stiff in his tuxedo, sidled up to you with Steve in tow. “Me either. Look at those fingers fly!” “Guys… hush.” Shooting a silencing glare their way, you let the music transport you, swaying just a bit at the soothing sound. Too soon, in your opinion, the last lingering note of Loki’s song filled the hall. Rising swiftly, Loki bowed at the applause, then turned to the happy couple. Thor hugged his brother close, while Loki kissed Jane’s hand with a gentlemanly air. Conversations started again, quiet at first, then gaining strength as Loki strode across the room. Snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray, his eyes trained on you, Loki accepted accolades as he moved ever closer. Another server took his empty glass as Loki finally made his way to you.

Scooping you up, Loki spun you slowly in a circle, your gown snapping behind you in an emerald wave of chiffon and lace. “Loki! Come on, put me down!” “As my lady commands”, when your mouth passed close enough to his own, Loki kissed you as if you had never kissed before. You pushed your hands through his dark locks, a hand on each side of his face, “You were amazing, babe. Just amazing!”

“You really think so?” “Absolutely!” His arm settled on your waist, keeping you tight to his side, as you were handed another glass of bubbly.

Bucky, leaning against Steve, wore a look of wide eyed shock, “Um. Loki… what the fuck are you doing?"

"Agent Barnes, do I really need to explain?"

Mouth dropping open, Bucky gaped, "He’s the guy? Really? You’re telling me Loki is the guy?” “She’s not telling us, Buck… she’s showing us.”

“But Stevie…? Loki? You? You’re the guy who makes her happy? The one who she’s been covering for?” Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, just a touch guilty, “I am. And, I’m madly in love with her.” “I’m happy Bucky. Stevie… really. Loki is… he’s my everything. I love him, too.”

As your secret was outed, the group formed a circle around you and Loki. Questions were shouted, congratulations extolled, Loki was clapped on the back more than once. Natasha gave you a wink and the "ok", which was really all the approval you needed.

“So, who won the pool then?”, Clint couldn’t help asking. “Me… and Thor”, the bride stepped right up to Tony with her hand out ready to take the prize money. “No fair! He’s your brother in law now. He probably told you!” Rhodey chimed in, unsatisfied with the final results. Defending her methods, Jane spun in her wedding dress, “No way! I used my powers of scientific deduction. I knew she was head over heels for Loki the night we announced our engagement.” Wondering, you looked at Jane, “You did? How? I mean, I didn't tell anyone. We didn't tell anyone ” “You didn't have to! You two wouldn’t look at each other. Dead give away.” Counting her cash, Jane smiled at you. “That may be true, but I promise you this, Odinson… break her heart and I’ll kill you.” Bucky shook Loki’s hand good naturedly, if a little too long, stopping only when Steve pulled him away. Gazing down at you, adoration evident in his face, Loki husked, “Not to worry, Agent Barnes. She has my heart you see... and I plan to be her guy as long as she’ll have me.”

Tagging my Minxes: @lancsnerd @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @sammy-jo1977 @queenofmischief @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @is-it-madness @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @poetic-fiasco

#loki x reader #loki x you #hot loki #Loki Love #MCU fanfiction #mcu writing challenge #loki writing challenge #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #1000 followers #loki smut

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thicctails · 3 years

Text

Summer Of Whump Day 30[Crying/Lashing Out]

Reunited at last!

Omega leaned against a tree, her injured leg lifted off the ground slightly. Despite the pain that radiated from various points on her body, she was buzzing with excitement. Today was the day that they were going to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch and Rex!

They were just getting ready to leave, Crosshair going off to hunt something down so that they had extra provisions. Cal was laying down in the soft grass, rays of sunlight shining down on him as he slept. Omega felt a flicker of sadness go through her when she realized that Pillow was missing out on enjoying the planet’s nice warm environment.

Crosshair had explained that Pillow, for some unexplainable reason, had cocooned himself in crystal. Omega hadn’t believed him at first, but the older clone had carried her back to the ship so that she could see it for herself. She’d spent the better part of half an hour just talking to the hunk of crystal, hoping that Pillow could hear her in there. She couldn’t sense him in the Force, which upset her. Crosshair said that he wouldn’t be in there for very long, but she could tell that he’d only said that to make her feel better. Truth was, nobody knew how long Pillow would be stuck in the shining purple chunk of rock.

Omega could only hope that he was okay in there.

“Hey.”

Omega turned her head, surprised at who she saw.

Chex shifted nervously, his arm resting in a sling. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his hair messy and his eyes still holding the remnants of sleep. He looked the way she felt, the two of them having just recently recovered from their fevers. She tilted her head slightly, not exactly sure why he had approached her.

“I just,” He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, “I wanted to say… that I’m sorry. I was angry and hurting, but that was no excuse to act the way that I did. You’re actually really cool.”

Omega felt his sincerity and guilt through the Force, and she gave him a half smile.

“Thanks. You were pretty cool too, taking on that creature by yourself.” She replied. “Just try to avoid swinging that lightsaber at me, and we’ll be good.”

Chex flushed red in embarrassment. “Yeah, that was one of my stupider moments.”

“Yes, it was.”

Chex whirled, gulping when he saw Crosshair standing behind him. The clone glowered at him, his golden-brown eyes narrowing dangerously. A large, furry beast was draped over his shoulder, a trickle of blood dripping down his armored chest. Omega stifled a laugh at the way the padawan visibly seemed to shrink, his shoulders hunching as he tried to make himself seem as small and nonthreatening as possible.

“So, you’re the one that attacked my adiik.” He growled, and it was as if a thunderstorm had formed inside his chest.

“Uhhh…” Chex squeaked, somehow becoming even smaller.

“Crosshair, I think you’re going to give him a heart attack.” Omega giggled.

“Good.” Crosshair rumbled, still making direct eye contact with the cowering teen.

Omega rolled her eyes and gave Chex a little shove, causing him to snap out of his terror-induced paralysis and dash away as fast as possible.

Omega couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing, her throat still a bit rough from her illness. She wiped at her eyes as Crosshair continued to glare at the retreating padawan, a toothpick clenched in his teeth.

“You should have left him to cower, it was amusing.” He grumbled, giving her a small smile.

“Cal’s gonna be so mad! He wanted to see you do that.” Omega wheezed.

“He should have stayed awake, then.” He said simply. “Come on, let’s get going.”

She waits until Crosshair has woken Cal up before she moves. She limped forward, accepting Crosshair’s arm when he offers it. She knows that, if she asks, he’ll carry her back to the ship, but she wants to try and do it herself. She’s tired of feeling weak.

Together, the trio made their way back to the ship. Crosshair threw his catch into the cold storage while Cal and Omega strapped in. Omega claimed the co-pilot’s seat, and Cal didn’t have the heart to fight her for the prized seat while she was injured. Resigning himself to a seat farther back, he curled up and went back to sleep, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his chest.

“Ready?” Crosshair asked, sliding into the pilot’s seat.

“Ready!” Omega replied enthusiastically.

Crosshair stared out the windshield with a determined look on his face.

“Then let’s go home.”

Hunter paced back and forth, stopping every thirty seconds to listen for the sound of approaching footsteps. He stared out at the open sky, wishing that his sight was as good as his hearing so that he could see if a ship was coming in. Upon seeing nothing and hearing nothing, he resumed his pacing.

“Hunter, for the love of the Maker, please stop pacing!” Echo groaned, shooting Hunter an annoyed look. “Walking back and forth isn’t going to make them arrive any sooner.”

Hunter huffed, crossing his arms. “They should have been here by now. What if something went wrong? What if Crosshair’s chip activated again?”

“It’s been an hour since we got here. Give them some time.” Tech said, but Hunter didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked towards the sky.

“Ugh, we’ve given them time.” Wrecker, who had been laying on the floor lifting boxes, sat up. “I say we go lookin’ for ‘em.”

“That could draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. We’re staying put.” Rex replied.

Hunter opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when a new sound reached his ears.

Footsteps. One set was steady and calm, one was hesitant, and the other was uneven, like the person was limping. He turned his head, staring directly at the doorway.

“Someone’s coming. A few someones.” He said in a hushed voice. Hope made his heart rate pick up, but he also knew to be cautious. There was always the possibility that whoever was coming down the hall wasn’t friendly.

The group rallied around them, and the air was thick with tension. Hands rested on blasters as the footsteps became audible to everyone.

They waited.

There was silence for a moment, the approaching people pausing, hesitant to enter the room. Then, a familiar mop of blonde hair appeared from around the corner. Soft, honey-brown eyes locked onto them, and Omega’s star-bright grin lit up the space around them.

“Omega!” The Bad Batch yelled, running over to her. She had barely stepped forward when Hunter reached her, scooping her up into a tight hug, ever careful not to touch her scarring burns.

Omega’s face disappeared into Hunter’s neck, her own smooth skin brushing up against his stubble. The scent of damp earth and clean rainfall fills his senses, and Hunter takes a moment to absorb it, to take comfort from the fact that their ad’ika is back in his arms and that she’s alive and okay. Her limbs shake as she wraps her arms around his neck, almost choking him with how tightly she’s holding on. He doesn’t care. Omega is back, and that’s what matters.

But she’s not the only family member that has returned to them today.

Still holding onto Omega, he opens his eyes to see Crosshair standing in the door frame. His vod looks… tired. The skin beneath his eyes is dark, and in his cognac brown eyes Hunter sees a frightening mix of bone-deep exhaustion, deep-seeded guilt, and wavering fear, like he doesn’t know if Hunter is going to hug him or strike him.

“C’mere, Cross’ika.” The nickname is one that he hasn’t used since their early days of life, but it still rolls off his tongue like smooth honey.

Crosshair stiffens at the name, and Hunter can practically see the shock going through his mind. He hesitantly steps closer, still uncertain of Hunter’s intentions. Once he’s close enough, Hunter grabs his younger brother and pulls him into his chest, wrapping an arm around his back. He shifts Omega in his arm so that she’s still sitting comfortably while he holds Crosshair as close as he can.

Before Crosshair could even register the sensation of being pulled into a hug, their other vode joined in, practically smothering Omega and Crosshair with affection. Tech wiggled his way close to Hunter’s side, throwing his arms around Crosshair and tucking his face into his shoulder. Echo was closer to Omega, eagerly offering the now teary-eyed girl a hug when she spotted him. And Wrecker? Well, Wrecker used his enhanced size to hug them all.

Crosshair blinked, the weight of his vode bringing back fuzz-tinted memories of days long gone. He blinked again, feeling the unfamiliar sting of tears prick at the edges of his eyes. He took in a shuddering breath, the fear of rejection slowly bleeding out of him.

“Welcome back, vod.” It was Echo’s voice this time, kind and heavy with relief.

“’s good to be back.” He whispered, resting his chin on Hunter’s shoulder.

Suddenly, there’s a noise. A shifting of feet on a metal floor makes Crosshair pull back, remembering that it wasn’t just him and Omega that had walked down the hall.

“Cal,” He called, turning back towards the doorway. “come on out, ad’ika.”

The Batch and Rex, who had come over once he’d realized that someone hadn’t revealed themself yet, peered curiously towards the doorway. Hunter could hear a small heartbeat increase as the hidden figure slowly poked his head out of the shadows. Startlingly green eyes broke the pattern of light browns, the boy glancing nervously at the group. He shuffled in place, looking like he wanted to bolt.

They stared at him, he stared at them. All was silent.

“Is that the kid you stole?”

“TECH!”

The kid’s face crinkled with amusement when Crosshair smacked Tech upside the head, scowling at him.

“Yeah, I’m his stolen Jedi kid. Took me out of my jail cell right as I was getting comfortable.” He joked, laughing when Crosshair lightly smacked him on the head.

“Shush, you little womp rat. If you were stolen by anyone, it was that Jedi.”

“She would’a gave us back.”

“Debatable. You and Omega are very likeable.”

Wrecker laughed at the conversation. “Aw, Crossy’s gone soft.”

“Wrecker.” Crosshair warned, bristling at the nickname.

“Crossy?!” Cal, Rex, and Omega asked, trying not to laugh.

“Do not call me that!” Crosshair snapped, his cheeks burning red.

“Softie Crossy! Softy Cros- hurk!” Wrecker started to tease, but was cut off when Crosshair gave him a hard shove. The second-oldest clone let out a playful yell and pulled Crosshair down, wrestling with him on the floor.

“Ori’vod, help me out!” Wrecker yelled, trying to wrangle Crosshair. The younger clone was too slippery, however, and Crosshair soon managed to wrap his legs around Wrecker’s neck, squeezing just enough to cut off most of his airflow.

Hunter laughed, an actual, full-belly laugh. It had been years since he’d done that!

“Tech, here,” He said, passing a giggling Omega off to his youngest brother, “hold this.”

Tech accepted the armful of child, smiling at her and planting a kiss on her forehead. She leaned into him, tucking herself under his chin.

“Hello, sarad’ika.” He said softly, taking a moment to fully realize the fact that Omega was back, that his inability to protect her hadn’t ended in her demise. “Gar cuyir bid kotir, ad'ika.”

“Tech,” She whined, wiggling a bit to get comfortable,“I don’t know what that means. You guys need to teach me whatever language you’re speaking.”

“We will, little one. I was just saying that you’re very brave, even when you were faced with a terrible situation.” Tech said, giving her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t keep you safe when you needed me to.”

“It’s okay, Tech. I’m actually glad I got caught. Otherwise, I never would have met Cal.” She said, looking towards the redhead. He was cheering Crosshair on, Echo carefully watching to make sure he didn’t accidentally get dragged into the playful brawl.

“Ah yes, our surprise addition.” Tech said, turning to look as well. “We’re going to have to build a new bunk.”

“Me and him can sleep on Crosshair’s ship.” Omega said.

Tech tightened his hold, almost looking distressed at her suggestion. “No. You aren’t allowed to leave our sight, not again. We can leave that Imperial scrapheap here.”

“No we can’t! Pillow’s still in his weird cocoon thing.” Omega protested.

“A… cocoon?” Tech questioned.

“Yeah. He put himself into a big crystal!” She said, spreading her arms out as if to emphasize how large the object was.

“An amphibian creating a cocoon is bizarre, but a crystalline one? That’s unheard of.” Tech muttered. “I need to analyze it. Would you like to come with me, or stay here?”

“Stay with you.” Omega said, tucking herself back underneath Tech’s chin. She didn’t want to be put down, didn’t want to be without contact right now. The Force sang happily around her, pleased by her reuniting with her family.

Tech chuckled and adjusted her so that he was holding her with one arm.

“Very well then, let’s go see our crystallized friend.”

#the bad batch #star wars #star wars the bad batch #omega bad batch #hunter bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch #summerofwhump #summerofwhump[30]#crying #this one is soft #fluff #whump #captain rex #rex clone wars

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thatsamericano · 3 years

Text

True Colors Shining Through

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Smaller appearances from Germany, Veneziano, Canada, England, France, and Japan.

Ratings/Warnings: Teen, for mild cursing. Brief moment of possible homophobia from an unnamed nation, but it’s up to interpretation.

Word Count: 1647

Summary: America surprises everyone when he shows up to the world meeting in a rainbow colored business suit, including his boyfriend Romano.

A/N: Written for @hetalia-writers-monthly, for the June concrete prompt “rainbow.” Inspired by this post from @bitchapalooza. Title taken from the Cyndi Lauper song “True Colors.”

Germany was grumbling to himself as he arranged a stack of papers in preparation for the world meeting. “It would be nice if people could respect everyone else’s busy schedule and actually show up to the meeting on time.”

“Ve, don’t stress out so much, Ludo,” Feliciano said. “Almost everyone is here, except for America and whoever is supposed to be sitting next to him.”

Romano paused in the middle of his boredom-induced doodling long enough to roll his eyes at his little brother. “It’s Canada. America’s brother.”

“Right, Canada! I wonder why they haven’t showed up yet.”

Savino shrugged as if he didn’t care. “Beats me.” But he was wondering why Alfred hadn’t shown up yet. When they spoke on the phone last night, Alfred had been quite enthusiastic about some “surprise” he had planned for the meeting. He was also thrilled that he’d get to spend some time with Savino after the meeting, because the distance between them usually limited how much time they could spend together in person. Of course, Alfred being Alfred, he had expressed his excitement in the sappiest way possible and left Romano a blushing mess by the time the phone call ended.

America and Romano had only been together a few weeks, and they hadn’t gone public with their relationship yet because it was so new. They were still figuring things out about themselves and each other. Fredo knew he’d probably have to “come out” at some point, but unlike Savino, he didn’t have a label for his sexuality that made sense to him. All he knew was that he was happy with Romano and that anyone who gave him or his boyfriend crap for it would deserve some creative insults (if they were human) or a punch in the face (if they were a nation and therefore able to withstand Alfred’s punches without dying). Savino agreed strongly with Alfred on the latter point, and he didn’t mind waiting a bit until Alfred felt more comfortable telling people about them. For now, it was nice to have their relationship be just between them, without having to face the scrutiny or opinions of any other nations.

Romano idly continued doodling until the door to the conference room opened. He glanced up as Canada ducked his head into the doorway. “Sorry we’re late, eh?”

“It’s alright. Please take your seat,” Germany replied.

Canada turned his head to whisper to someone behind him, and then he walked into the room, followed closely by his brother. Romano’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw what Alfred had worn to the meeting.

It was only a business suit in the most technical sense of the term. The jacket, the trousers, and the tie were all striped with the colors of the rainbow. Or more specifically, the colors of the rainbow pride flag. Alfred’s ridiculously loud outfit contrasted with the darker and more muted suits everyone else was wearing. The only part of America’s outfit that was normal was his white shirt, his normal briefcase, his glasses, and his black patent leather shoes.

A stunned silence fell over the room, and it was only broken by a few hushed, baffled whispers. Alfred glanced over at Savino to flash him a quick smile before he sat down, but he didn’t explain himself to anyone. Apparently, he didn’t feel the need to, just like Savino didn’t feel the need to respond to his little brother poking him in the arm and asking him what was going on. Not that he would’ve been able to tell Feli what the fuck was going on, because he was just as confused as everyone else.

England, who was sitting on America’s right, was the first person to speak. “Alfred, what the bloody hell are you wearing?!”

America laughed and pulled some papers out of his briefcase. “It’s a business suit, dude. I’m pretty sure they have those in England.”

“I think what Angleterre was trying to say is that your outfit today is a bit more… how you say, flamboyant than your usual attire,” France pointed out as diplomatically as he could. “Especially for a world meeting.”

“It’s Pride Month. Being flamboyant is kind of the point, isn’t it?”

France blinked in disbelief, and the whispering from before increased into a steady, background hum. Romano heard someone from across the room scoffing and asking why America had to “show off” instead of wearing a pin like anyone else would have, and Romano turned to glare spitefully in their general direction. Sure, wearing a rainbow business suit to a world meeting was over the top in a way only Alfred would be, but America had every right to “show off.” Savino wouldn’t let anyone talk about his boyfriend like that.

Japan cleared his throat. “Alfred-san, forgive me if this is an intrusive question, but are you trying to tell us that you’re gay?”

“Don’t worry bro, it’s fine. And to answer your question, yeah. I’m not sure of my exact label, but I am into guys, or at least one guy in particular.” A broad grin stole over his face, and then Alfred looked directly at Savino and winked at him.

Savino’s face instantly turned scarlet, because Alfred’s wink and his grin made him flustered beyond all reason, damn it. America’s blatant statement, along with Romano’s reaction, naturally prompted even more gossip. The loud cry of “ha, I knew it!” from Lithuania was not particularly surprising, and neither were Spain’s or Feli’s comments on how much Savino was blushing, but they were embarrassing. Of course, true to form, Fredo verbally declared that Savino’s blushing was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen, which was flattering, but the kind of compliment he was much more accustomed to hearing in private, not in front of literally the entire world. Romano’s face was so warm that he probably could have fried an egg on it.

Savino glared weakly at his boyfriend. “You’re only making it worse, asshole.”

“I’m only being honest, babe,” Alfred said plainly, like it was no big deal. “Everyone here can see how cute and handsome you are.”

Savino couldn’t help it. With Alfred saying sappy things like that and looking at him like he hung the moon, he cracked a smile. Alfred grinned back at him. They continued staring into each other’s eyes as Germany stood up from his chair and attempted to get the meeting back under control.

“Unless anyone has any further surprise announcements, I’m going to begin my presentation.”

America quit staring at him for about half a second to acknowledge what Germany had said. “I think we’re good, dude.”

Once Germany started talking, Romano did his best to pay attention. He took a few notes, idly sketched in his notebook, and glanced up to roll his eyes fondly whenever he felt America gazing at him like the obvious dork he was.

Eventually, it was time for the scheduled lunch break. As Romano was packing up his things, he overheard Poland telling Hungary that he was totally going to wear a pink sequined dress to the next world meeting, because America shouldn’t be the only one getting to wear whatever they wanted. Hungary laughed and said he had a point.

Alfred started to come around the other side of the table, and Feli nudged his shoulder and smirked. “I’ll have lunch with Germany today. That way you and your ragazzo can have some alone time.”

Savino could only stammer out a couple syllables before his little brother was rushing off to catch up with Germany. As Feli was latching onto the macho potato’s arm, Alfred slipped into the space beside him. “Hey, Vinny.”

“Hey, caro.” He glanced up and down Alfred’s body, then smirked as he looked up into his eyes. “Interesting outfit.”

Alfred blushed and smiled, shyer than he would have in front of anyone else. “You like it? I stumbled across it online when I was looking for something else, and it called out to me, like the stuff Billy Mays used to sell in infomercials. I had to buy it.”

Savino snorted. “It is very… you. I wouldn’t have expected to see it at a world meeting, though.”

Alfred fidgeted with the hem of his jacket sleeve and glanced away with a worried look on his face. “It was okay that I told everyone about us today, right? Before we went in, Mattie said I probably should’ve consulted with you beforehand, but I’ve just been so happy and proud to be with you, and I didn’t want to have to hide it anymore. I didn’t even think to—”

Savino gently took hold of his hand, which stopped his boyfriend’s nervous babbling. “It’s okay. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come out today. And knowing you, I figured that loud, public declarations would be part of the deal sooner or later.”

Alfred chuckled and laced their fingers together. His smile was equal parts relieved and adoring. “Okay, cool. Glad I didn’t mess that up too badly. Are you free for lunch?”

Savino huffed out a laugh. “Feli just ditched me for the potato bastard so I could have ‘alone time’ with you.”

Alfred giggled. “That’s really nice of him. I feel like I owe your brother a million dollars.”

They continued chatting back and forth, and Romano wasn’t sure if it was Alfred’s gleeful, lovestruck tone, his sweet words, or the fact that they were holding hands, but he felt warm and content as they went into the elevator and as they left the building and walked down the sidewalk together. He held Alfred’s hand until they took a table at the restaurant, because he was just as proud to be in this relationship as Alfred was, even if he was more inclined to show it with body language than rainbow colored business suits.

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writingblackpink · 4 years

Text

If You Leave Now, You Lose Everything (pt. 3)

Read pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 4

genre: you guessed it: angst

word count: 2k

pairing: jennie x reader

You and Jennie have been together for two years now. While the relationship has been rocky as of recently, will you find a way to make it work before it’s too late?

A/N: Basically this is Jennie’s pov of what happened after the breakup. One more part after this. I really enjoyed writing this part, so please let me know what you think :)

Jennie was a mess.

As soon as she stepped out of your apartment, the tears flowed freely. She sunk down against the door for a few moments to collect herself but soon got to her feet, adjusted her mask, sunglasses and cap so as to stay incognito in the New York streets, and walked to her waiting car in the street.

She thought that giving the situation some space would help her think everything through, but the only thing on her mind was how she thought she might’ve made the worst decision of her life. The 14 hour flight didn’t help either, and when she landed back home, she couldn’t even bring herself to dial your number and let you know she made it home, instead opting for a “made it home” text free of any emotion, written more so out of courtesy than anything else.

Jennie knew you were trying to call her. She heard the voicemail left after the first call and almost called you back, but she figured there would be no way to get over you if she did that, so she deleted the call from the log. The second time you called, Jennie stared at her ringing phone in her hand and debated on whether or not to answer the call, going through everything that might be said if she did answer. As soon as she pressed her finger to the answer button, the call screen disappeared, signaling you had ended the call. The third time, the call came through in the middle of the night. Jennie was startled awake by the vibration on the nightstand and without thinking ended the call only to realize in the morning that it was you that had called. She almost wondered if there was some emergency that would explain why you were calling with no regard to time zones, but she was supposed to be ridding you from her life, so she pushed that thought to the back of her mind. After that, the calls ceased.

Jennie spent some time off after returning from the States. For the first few days, she sulked around in her apartment, her group mates only coming by to bring food and make sure she was still doing well. On the inside, she really wasn’t, but she put on a smile so they wouldn’t worry as much.

Midway through the week, she figured she needed to do some cleaning. As she did so, she tossed every single thing that belonged to you in a box that she labeled, “Y/N’s THINGS” in thick black ink and placed it in the corner of her room, having every intention to ship it back to you in the next few days. A few more days passed before she realized that not being able to see your things didn’t really help with getting rid of thoughts of you like she thought it would.

In the following few weeks, she threw herself into work, thinking that maybe if she had something to occupy her time with, she wouldn’t think of you as much. Or how you’re doing. Or what you’re doing. Or if you’re thinking about her as much as she’s thinking about you. Jennie went out with friends and drank to try to wash the memory of you away, but it never seemed to work. It only left her with a headache the following day, and embarrassing stories from her friends about how she wouldn’t shut up about you. Again.

“How are you doing, Jennie?” Jisoo asked sincerely while walking out of a particularly difficult dance practice. Jennie assumed she had been asking about that when she replied.

“Pretty good. A little tired. These practices have really been kicking my ass.” She stopped when she noticed Jisoo had stopped walking and turned to face her.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Jisoo said accusingly.

Jennie took a deep breath before plastering a smile across her face and lying.

“I’m doing ok. I’m figuring it out day by day.” It wasn’t a total lie, she was figuring it out, but she didn’t know how “ok” she really was.

Jisoo squinted at her. “I don’t really believe you,” she paused, picking her step back up and moving past Jennie, “but if you do need anyone to talk to about it, I’m here.” And it was really nice, Jennie thought, to have friends that cared so deeply for her, but the wound was still so fresh that even bringing up the situation made her feel like salt had been thrown directly on it. She didn’t want to talk about you or how she felt about the situation because she didn’t wish to be faced with the harsh reality that she did miss you because there was nothing she, or anyone else, could do about it. You guys were over.

Another week passed before she received a phone call from an old friend from New Zealand saying, surprise, she was going to be visiting in a few days for the first time in a few years and staying with Jennie for a few weeks. The timing was perfect. Jennie had a pretty open schedule for the next few weeks and she was grateful to have someone else around to fill her time and hopefully this would be the kind of therapeutic presence she needed to start getting over you.

Jennie was ecstatic, nearly floating through the airport and scooping her friend up in a long hug as soon as they reached each other.

“Oh my god, babe! I missed you so much!” Her friend exclaimed rather loudly in the bustling airport.

“I missed you too! It’s been too long!”

For the first few days, everything was going good. Jennie found herself wrapped up in everything her and her friend were doing together. She genuinely smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks. She thought maybe time actually could heal.

Everything was going good until she started asking hard questions.

“Is everything okay?” She asked on an afternoon coffee date. Jennie had been zoned out for a few minutes, staring out the window. Jennie shifted her gaze to her friend who continued, “You’ve been a bit distant today,” her brows furrowing in concern.

Jennie didn’t know if she could tell her friend that the reason she was distant was because she had ordered what you usually ordered, and Jennie couldn’t stop thinking of all of the sweet coffee dates you two had been on in the past two years.

Without thinking, she spoke up.

“I broke up with Y/N.” She said flatly, looking directly into her friend’s eyes.

“Sheesh,” her friend replied, clearly taken aback by the news, “I mean, I wasn’t going to ask, but you usually only talk about her so I was kind of wondering….” Her voice trailed off.

Jennie peered into her cup of steaming tea, waiting for her friend to continue.

“Jennie, what happened? From what you told me, it really seemed like she was the one?”

Jennie looked up again before replying, “distance” and leaving it at that.

A silence sat between the two friends and Jennie was almost glad that her friend didn’t ask her anything else. She was fine with that for a while until she felt the words bubbling up her chest, threatening to escape.

“I still love her.” Jennie said. Her own eyes widened as she heard each word leave her mouth. Well, it was out there now.

Her friend looked sympathetic for a beat before responding, “Have you tried reaching out yet? Maybe you both should just talk it out?”

“No, we haven’t. You’re right. Maybe I should.” Jennie said, emotionless. Yeah, she had opened this line of conversation, but now she wanted to close it and she hoped her friend would catch on. Thankfully, she did, and soon both of them were heading back home.

Jennie sat up in bed that night, kept awake by the thought of you and the box she seemingly had forgotten to ship in the corner or her room staring back at her in the moonlight. She didn’t know what to do at this point. She wanted you back, but it had almost been a month. What if you moved on? What if you were already over her and thriving in the U.S.? Her brain was flooded with scenarios of what would happen if she were to talk to you again, and all she really wished for before she closed her eyes to sleep, was a sign.

The following evening, Jennie and her friend decided to cook dinner at home. Jennie appreciated the night in.

“Hey! I don’t know if it’s even possible, but please don’t burn the pasta. If my memory serves correct, you were no Gordon Ramsey back in the day.” Jennie said teasingly.

She loved being able to talk to someone with no pretenses. Her friend didn’t ask her questions about you and it made Jennie feel so free.

“Har, Har, Jennie! If MY memory serves ME correct, you did burn the bacon this morning so you have no room to talk.”

Jennie laughed out loud. She couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so freely. Probably with you, she thinks, and then swipes the memory away.

Just then, she heard a knock on her door, looking toward the door and trying to think if she had invited anyone else over.

“Let me get that,” She said while moving to unlatch the door, throwing one last thing over her shoulder before making eye contact with whoever was on the other side.

“And if you do burn this, you’re sooo buying brunch tomorrow.” Jennie giggled, turning to face her guest.

Immediately meeting your eyes, Jennie squinted, trying to make sure what she was seeing was actually reality and not a hallucination. She couldn’t believe it at first, blinking a few times to make sure she hadn’t manifested this very situation with all of her thinking about you.

She realized she had been lost in her thoughts for too long when she heard a weak “surprise” leave your lips. All she could think was you and all she could see were your eyes staring back at her, pleading. Yet, she felt paralyzed in her spot, not able to move, not able to speak.

Jennie felt her friend walk up behind her and say something, but it sounded so far away that she couldn’t decipher what it was. So, she kept standing, frozen in her place.

And, now what are you doing? Are you crying? Jennie couldn’t figure out for the life of her what was going on but then she heard you speak again.

“um...this was a bad idea, I’ll just be going. Sorry.”

Jennie heard you clearly, thoughts running wild at the thought of you leaving again. Jennie had asked for a sign and this was a pretty fucking big sign. No, no, Y/N, wait! She was saying the words but nothing was coming out. Her throat burned with the words that ached to be said.

You turned and headed to leave and Jennie could hear her friend asking her something, but again she couldn’t make out what it was. All she could think about was how she couldn’t just let you leave this time.

“Y/N! Come back!” Her voice strained out. You didn’t turn back around and Jennie grew even more confused. Did you not want her after all? She pushed those thoughts aside and turned to run back into the apartment, grabbing her car keys and a jacket and turning to leave again. She didn’t make it past the door before her friend grabbed her arm.

“Jennie, what’s going on?” she asked, voice laced with concern.

A single tear fell down Jennie’s cheek as she looked back at her friend.

“That was Y/N.” They stared at each other until her friend connected the dots.

“THAT was Y/N?” She instantly released Jennie’s arm from her hold. “Jennie, what are you waiting for? Go get your girl!”

And with that, Jennie turned and bolted to the door at the end of the hallway, sprinting down the stairs to the parking lot and hoped she wasn’t too late.

#gg scenarios #blackpink #blackpink scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink writing #gg writing #kpop fanfic #kpop imagine #jennie x female reader #angst #blackpink jennie #jennie kim #jnk

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Trouble: Chapter 4

*Gif not mine*

Pairings: HotchxReader

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Rating: M

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: SMUT, Oral sex(male receiving), fingering, choking, slight degradation, dom/sub overtones. mention of past rape/abuse. witch shit.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: After Haley’s passing, Aaron Hotchner has lost the light in his eyes. He seems to find it it the most unlikely of places, an occult themed coffee shop ran by a witch.

A.N: If you don’t like smut, i’d skip some paragraphs but not the whole thing because there’s some major plot points. Tarot, wicca, and crystal information is very secondhand if you see any inaccuracies, no you don’t.

Chapter 4: I been facing trouble almost all my life

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Hotch asks, immediately standing when he heard the crash of the phone.

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t tell hotch about that period of your life, you guys just got to the place you wanted to be at for quite some time. Charlie couldn’t do this to you again, you couldn’t let him fuck more of your life up.

“Oh nothing, butter fingers sorry.” You say, plastering a smile on. Hotch doesn’t believe you, you can tell he doesn’t but he doesn’t ask questions either.

After talking for another hour, Hotch kisses you goodbye, knowing somethings off but not saying anything. You head upstairs and relieve Silena of her duties, promising her details of the night tomorrow. Once you see her out, you instantly crawl into your daughter’s bed.

“Mama?” She says groggily.

“Yea honey, it’s me.”

She nods sleepily before laying her head on your chest. You run your hands through her hair watching her sleep for a spell.

Charlie couldn’t take this from you.

You won’t let him.

—————————————

It’s been a couple months since the phone call and things were honestly going good, scary good. Business was booming, a famous blogger had stumbled upon your shop by accident and posted about it since then you and Silena seemed to have your hands so full with hipsters and entitled elitists that you needed a full time sitter. You didn’t like it but money was money.

You and Hotch were also doing good. He finally took you on that date, which was dinner at a small Italian restaurant. He looked at you in shock as you rattled off the menu items in perfect pronunciation. You just shrugged explaining that you worked at an Italian bakery through college, which is where you learned the language and most of the recipes you used in the shop today.

Both of you didn’t account for weather though and as soon as you left the restaurant it began to pour. Hotch gave you his suit jacket to cover your hair as the two of you bolted across the parking lot to his car. The original plan was to just wait out the rain until it was safe enough for you to both drive home but what ended up happening was the two of you making out like teenagers in the backseat of his car.

It’s been about two months since then and while he’s gone a lot on cases he seems to still make time for you and, by proxy, Artie. The weekends the both of you had free were spent at the park with your kids who got along swimmingly. Artemis had the same personality as you in that sense, nice and outgoing. It was no surprise that she’d befriended Jack in a matter of days despite his shy demeanor.

You were still worried about Charlie. You tried not to be but you couldn’t help it. You had already moved multiple times because of him you couldn’t do it again. You had the shop, Artie was finally at that age where she was old enough to remember so she needed stability and now you had Aaron, who had already lost so much you couldn’t be another thing he lost. So you issued a new deal that gave any law enforcement officer 50% off a coffee order. Was it the best for your bank in the long run? No, but it gave you and Artie the protection you needed so he wouldn’t think of trying anything. That didn’t stop the threatening notes and phone calls though despite everything.

You had finally decided though you weren’t going to run. Not this time.

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

You’d never been inside the FBI building before and until today you never had an excuse to. But since Artie was with her sitter all day and you had the time you decided you’d take a long lunch and come see Hotch.

You got off the elevator 2 carriers of coffee in tow, figuring it’d be rude to bring Hotch something and not the others. As you walk into the bullpen the first person to take notice of you is Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N. What’re you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise Hotch with lunch and you guys with coffee.” You smile, handing the coffee carriers to him as he makes grabby hands at them. You take out the two cups you knew were yours and Aaron’s. “Where is his office?”

Spencer points to the catwalk above you. “Upstairs, his door is the open one.” You mouth your thanks as you head up the stairs and into the opened door of the office, rapping quietly on the door to announce your presence. Hotch looks up annoyed but when he sees it's you his face softens a bit. He gestures to the phone he’s talking into and a chair for you to sit and wait. You close the door behind you and walk in silently placing the cup you brought in with you in front of him silently. He gives you a gracious look while you sit quietly in the chair across from him as he finishes his conversation.

You’d never seen Hotch at work so you’ve seen him like this. You always knew he had an authoritative energy, but you’ve never seen him like this in his element, in charge. Your eyes slowly pan up the charcoal suit he was wearing, broad chest and shoulders ridged with stress. You watched his stern expression get more annoyed by whoever he was on the phone with as he blew heavy exasperated breaths through his nose.

He was angry. You could tell.

But for some reason it was incredibly hot to you.

“I’m not compromising when it comes to my team, now Goodbye.” He said, angrily slamming the phone into the receiver. He pinches the bridge of his nose, obviously frustrated. You decide to lean forward placing your fingers in the aforementioned hand. He instantly looks up and fully laces your hands together, pulling your hand up so he could kiss the swell of your knuckles.

“Hey, dove.” Your heart swells a bit at the pet name, still not fully used to the development of your relationship despite being together for months. “What’re you doing here?”

“The shop was pretty slow and Malia is watching Bean. I figured I’d take a long lunch to come see you. Is it a bad time?” You ask.

“I’ll always make time for you.” He says. Hotch didn’t have many regrets but one of the major gut-wrenching ones was the fact that he drove Hayley away and made her feel unloved because he couldn’t tear himself away from work. And while you were very understanding, in fact much more understanding and patient than she was, he wasn’t going to do that ever again.

“You’re angry though.” You say, stating the obvious.

“I was.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It’s just… my boss doesn’t like me very much and because of that she puts the team under unneeded scrutiny.” He sighs, waving his hand. “I don’t want to bore you with that though, how was your day?”

You shrug. “You know it’s just coffee, so uneventful. And you don’t bore me, if something’s stressing you out, I wanna hear about it.” You look him in the eye, thumb moving over his knuckles. “I wanna help.”

Hotch sighs again. “It’s just, when Hayley was killed my judgement was clouded for a while. I was angry and I was taking unnecessary risks that were ultimately damaging to the team. I realize that now but not soon enough because Strauss is still on me about everything. And I’m trying to work on my anger about stuff like that but obviously when my abilities as a leader are questioned every 5 minutes, it’s hard.”

You ran your thumb up and down his knuckles the whole time he ranted. You get up to circle his desk before standing in front of his chair, leaning back against the edge of the desk “Can I give you something?” You ask.

“If it’s another rock, I’m going to have to get a chest to put them all at some point, having them on my desk is taking up space now.” He laughs.

“I think we’ve established it’s always going to be a rock, Aaron.” You reach into your pocket. “I actually carry this on me all the time and maybe it’ll help you too. This is raw aquamarine. Because it’s water based it’s used for it’s cooling energy. Sometimes to calm anger, sometimes to provide wisdom in conflict.” Aaron holds out his left palm, knowing the drill by now. “Please be used as a conduit of peace.” You say, before handing the stone to him.

“Thank you, dove.” He says, placing the crystal next to the others. “You said you carry this one all the time?”

“Yea.”

“Why?”

You sigh. “I used to have a really bad anger problem. Raw aquamarine helped me with it?”

“You...had an anger problem?” He said, extremely confused. “You? I’ve never even seen you angry.”

“That’s because you haven’t done anything but make me happy, Mr. Hotchner.” You smile, leaning down to kiss him which he instantly reciprocates. “Also, you haven’t seen me drive, I have real bad road rage.” You laugh.

“Well, thank you for the stone. I don’t think it’ll help my situation but it’s worth a shot.” He says.

“Well, there is another way to absolve some of your anger.”

“And what’s that?” He asks.

“You could take it out on someone.” You say, looking him directly in the eye. You notice his pupils darken extremely. “I don’t mind.”

“When do you have to go back to the shop?” He asks, standing from the chair so he’s towered over you now, the desk still blocking you from being able to back away from him.

“I have another 45-50 minutes before Silena calls.” You look back at him innocently.

“Lock the door and close the blinds, please.” He says, you don’t have to be told twice before you are squirming from under him to do just that. Once you do that you look back at Hotch who is gesturing for you to come closer which you do.

“Are you sure you want this, dove? I know we haven’t done anything like this yet.” He asks you, you nod fast. “And you’ll tell me the second I do something that makes you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, Aaron.” You say, practically whining. “Please, I need you.”

Aaron instantly sweeps you into a deep passionate kiss that’s already leaving you groaning as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip. He presses impossibly close to you and you feel him erect against your side. His hands travel up your sides and under your shirt slipping a hand into your bra, unhooking it before toying with your nipple. You moan loudly as his lips trail down your jaw sucking bite marks into your neck.

“Fuck, look at you.” He says, lowly in your ears. “Already so desperate and loud for me when I’ve barely touched you.” You can’t help moan at that too, touching him everywhere your hands can reach. “I’m going to have to shut you up somehow, huh?” He says, you whimper slightly and he grins, devilishly at you. “Get on your knees for me, baby.” He says, and you nod fast before settling on your knees for the man before you.

For a minute he just looks at you, studying you as if this was going to be the only time he’d see you like this. You watch him with hooded eyes as his hands go to his belt buckle and fly, revealing himself to you. You’re agape for a second trying not to drool he was certainly bigger than you’ve ever had. He tilts your chin up slightly so you can look him in the eye easily.

“You want to make me feel good, right?” He says, you nod. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Sir.” You say, breathy.

“Then do so.” He says, you nod before grabbing his member in your hand. Flattening your tongue to lick up the underside. He groans, grabbing the side of your head, pushing himself further into the warm heat of your mouth. He goes slow at first, testing the waters, trying to make sure you won’t freak out on him but soon enough he hears and more importantly he feels you moan. He grips your hair tighter before more forcefully shoving himself into your mouth. You have no choice but to flatten your tongue and take the assault, squeezing your legs together for some form of friction.

“Look at you, so desperate to please. You wanna make me cum, dove?” He says, voice straining as he nears his end. You answer his question by sucking him harder, inducing a groan from the man. You start to feel him twitch on your tongue. “Fuck yes, that’s my good girl. Take it all.” He says, releasing himself into the back of your throat. You swallow quickly before leaning back on your knees looking up at him putting himself back in his slacks.

“Come here.” He says, you stand up instantly and he cups your jaw, kissing you harshly before moving you until you’re seated on the edge of his desk. He reattaches his lips to your neck automatically going for that spot behind your ear you can’t help the groan that leaves you as you feel one of his hands undoing your pants. He doesn’t waste any time undressing you, just brings his hand into pants, cupping your heat.

“You’re so wet for me already, dove?” He runs a finger up your slit before pressing inside you. A gasp that dissolves into a loud moan rips through your body. He grabs your jaw roughly with his other hand so you’ll meet his lips. His tongue running over the roof of your mouth as he slipped a second finger inside of you, curling slightly to hit that spot inside of you every thrust. You try to keep quiet but the moans and whimpers keep slipping out involuntarily. Aaron’s hand moves from your jaw to your neck, tightening slightly.

“If you can’t keep quiet, I’m going to stop.” He says, looking deep into your eye as his thumb circles your clit. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. “You want everyone to hear you? Hear how desperate and needy you are for me?” You shake your head as much as you can with his tight grip around your throat. Trying to keep quiet as you felt yourself coming close to the edge. “No, I think you do. If we had the time, I’d bend you over this desk and fuck you like the needy slut you are. You’d want that wouldn’t you, dove? You want me to fill you up?”

You nod, hips moving fast to meet his hand. “Yes, Sir.” You say, brokenly as you approached the edge. Hotch groans in response, hand tightening around your throat again.

“Fuck, next time, Angel.” He says, thrusting his fingers faster now. “Now I need you to cum, Princess. Go ahead, let go.” You bite down on your own hand to keep quiet as your orgasm washes through you then, not knowing you were waiting on permission. Hotch rides you through it, only withdrawing when he hears you whine. He instantly pulls his fingers up to the seam of your lips, you open your mouth, inviting him in. He groans as he watches you suck them into your mouth, tongue rolling over them. He kisses you the second he pulls his fingers out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers. “I hope I wasn’t too rough on you.”

You shake your head, picking up your bra and shirt to put them back on. “No, I’m fine. You were great.” You say, leaning up to peck his cheek.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.” He says, with a dark look.

You pout. “I’ve gotta get back to the shop, Gus.”

“Can I come see you tonight then?” He asks, you nod, smiling. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You stop in your tracks for a second. “We didn’t think this through, did we?” You say. “Everyone on your team is going to know exactly what we did.”

“Most likely, but I don’t care.” He smiles, pecking you on the cheek before opening the door holding your hand as you guys walk toward the elevator.

“I do.” You mumble, he only laughs at you.

Later, you walk into the shop, hair that was down before now in a tight bun. You didn’t even bother trying to cover up the marks on your neck. It wasn’t like you had anything to cover it with and it was way too hot for scarves. Silena looks up from the book she was reading. Smirking when she sees your disheveled appearance.

“Have a good lunch?” She says.

You flush, walking back to put your apron on. “Yea, i-it was fine.” You paused before looking at her. “Your reading was right.” You say, inducing loud cackles from your best friend.

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

Since you left, Hotch was having trouble thinking of anything that wasn’t you. After he saw how beautiful you looked losing control under him he knew he needed to see more. See just how much he could break you. He was just about getting ready to leave work when he got the call.

“SSA Hotchner speaking. Who is this?” He says, he didn’t recognize the number on the screen.

“Hey Hotch, This is Silena. I work with Y/N at HG.”

“I know who you are Silena, what’s wrong?” He says, knowing something had to be up for her to be calling him.

“Umm nothing yet, it’s just… Y/N’s ex is here and is camping in front of the store, I assume to catch her while she’s leaving… he’s not a good dude.” Hotch could make out some crashing behind her and someone he could only assume was Y/n yelling in very angry italian. “I just thought maybe if you came and flashed the badge a bit he’ll leave her alone.” he hears more yelling and crashing. “And you could save your girlfriend from a murder charge. Win-win.”

“I’m on my way.” He says.

“Great, come to the back door please.” Silena says hanging up.

Hotch knocks tentatively when he arrives at the back door, Silena lets him in with a small smile.

“Thanks for coming, Hotch.” We’re hiding out in the kitchen right now but he’s still banging on the front door. Luckily, we already locked for close so he couldn’t just walk in.” She says leading him to the kitchen where he sees you aggressively beating some dough. He looks back at Silena confused. “She’s pissed, sorry.”

“This is fucking ridicous!” You yell. “Lo fa sempre, cazzo. quel ratto bastardo! Non posso vivere un giorno in una fottuta pace. Lo ucciderò, cazzo.” (He always fucking does this. that rat bastard. I can't live one day in fucking peace. I'm going to fucking kill him.)

You turn and see Hotch who is looking back at you concerned. You level your angry gaze to Sil now. “I told you not to fucking call him.” You seeth. “You said you were calling Mike.”

“Yea, but I figured it’d be better if I called Hotch since he’s an actual Agent and Charlie will probably listen if he said fuck off.”

“I didn’t want you to call anyone. I wanted to handle it myself.”

“Yea by killing him. Which I’m obviously not going to let you do. You have a shop and daughter to worry about.”

“Un motivo in più per ucciderlo, cazzo! Non posso lasciarlo vicino a mia figlia!” (All the more reason to fucking kill him! I can't let him near my daughter)

“Hotch, can you please handle it so we can just go home?” Silena pleads with him. He gives you another worried look before walking out the front of the store. Where he sees a disgruntled poor shaped man banging on the front door.

Hotch opens the door slightly so the man could hear him “The shop is closed.” He says.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man spits. Instead of answering, Hotch just pulls out his badge.

“Since the shop is closed, you’re trespassing. I suggest you leave.”

“Look, I don’t know who the fuck you are. But I know that whore is in there and I’m not leaving until she comes out.”

As if on cue, you come out despite Silena trying very hard to hold you back, brandishing a rolling pin as a makeshift weapon.

“Get the fuck off my property, Charlie.”

“Where’s my kid, Y/N?”

“You don’t have a fucking kid! I have a kid!”

“I’m her father, I have a right to see her.”

“Vedrai prima le porte dell'inferno prima che ti permetta di avvicinarti a mia figlia!” (You will sooner see the gates of hell before I let you near my daughter!)

“You need to leave.” Aaron says, practically bodying the man out of the shop.

“I hope this shitshow shop is doing well because I’ll just take you to court, Y/N.” He yells while leaving.

“Oh yea, take me to court, stronzo! Let’s see what they decide. The mother with a successful business who raised her, or an abusive drunk!” You yell after him. “Fuck!” You yell, throwing the rolling pin deep into the shop thankfully not hitting anyone but putting a small dent into one of your paintings.

“Can you believe that fucking asshole wants to take me to court! Me?! I’m the one who should’ve taken him years ago if i wasn’t so fucking afraid.” You kick a chair over. “You shouldn’t have stopped me, I should’ve killed him.”

“Y/N, calm down. You don’t know what you're saying.” Aaron says. “It especially isn’t something you should be saying in front of an agent.”

“Considering you actually fucking killed the man who killed your ex-wife, you have no right to judge me for saying I want to kill my fucking rapist.” You snapped at him. You see the hurt expression come across his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, Aaron. That was a really shitty thing for me to say.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, I did do that and I don’t regret doing it.” Aaron grabs your hands, smoothing his finger over your knuckles, an action you had just done for him earlier that day. Which felt like lightyears away now. “I want to help you, Y/N, but I think… I think you need to tell me about it first.”

You sighed heavily. He was right, you knew everything about Aaron’s past.

It was only fair he knew everything about yours.

Taglist: @megatrexus @roses-and-grasses @tittymuncher69 @liaabsurd @ladyravenclaw @genevievedarcygrangerreading @softbibxtch @xxdisappearwithoutatracexx @crimeshowtrash @augustgraceful @theweirdobella @infinity1321 @stella95827 @neaswift

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#hotch x reader smut #bau x reader #hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #criminal minds

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bkgmaid · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could I get some headcanons for Shuichi, Kokichi, Kazuichi, Gundham and Fuyuhiko where a shy fem reader [Who they have a crush on.] somehow ends up straddling them. Maybe a little NSFW if you can. :)

hey anon !! sorry I couldent do all of them , it's getting kinda late where I am but I wanted to get as much done as I could !! please feel free to send me another ask and I'll make sure to do that one in full ♡

Suichi:

★ it started simple, really. You and suichi were known to both be romantic messes for one another. neither of you really knowing how to romance the other no matter how badly you two wanted to.

★ so as another ‘hang out you meant to be a date but couldn't say the word’ took place in your bedroom, controller in both of your guy’s hands as you play various games together, you’d call that a win in your book.

★ in between games, you two often engaged in mindless chatter. sometimes teasing each other about who won or lost the last round, and sometimes just talking about whatever came to mind.

★ One of those pockets of conversation you two shared when someone mustered up the confidence to talk, was suichi politely asking about who your favorite character was in the game you two played. Now, of course, that was something that required copious amounts of explanation on your part, which you surely didn't mind.

★ just as he finished his sentence he saw your eyes beam with excitement, repositioning yourself next to him to better explain in detail who it is and why.

★ as you’re explaining various lore about them, you jump up. Quickly asking him if he’d want to see the things you’ve bought regarding them, but before his mouth could even form the words you had already moved your knees onto the bed, allowing yourself height as you reached around for what you were going to show him, given that it was displayed on a higher shelf.

★ only when you folded your knees down, coming to an almost eye level with him, did you notice the burning red in his cheeks. You were confused about course, but as your eyes were to trail down, you were to realize why.

★ you found yourself not sat on the bed, but on his thigh. Lightly straddling it with your knees of either side of it, and your crotch directly placed on his upper thigh. You froze.

★ looking back up at him, his eyes seemed to dart all over the room, avoiding anything but your face as his hands awkwardly moved around him, almost as if he’s fighting the urge to hold you there.

★ once you regained your self-awareness, you blushed even more than he did. Quickly flailing your arms as you apologize, looking down at the mattress as you begin to lift one leg off of him.

★ though, before you can move another inch, you feel his hands grasp you softly by the hips. Quietly whispering, “N... No. you can stay”.

Kokichi:

★ kokichi is a huge trickster, given that, you rarely know his true feelings towards you. All you knew is that he loved to see you flustered.

★ you’re not one for confrontation, so he often found it fun to play around with you in any way he could. In a good way of course, but it never ended without you becoming a blushing mess over whatever he did.

★ one of these times was at the dining hall. He was spouting his usual banter, making fun of whoever looked at him for too long, or doing anything to try to get your attention.

★ somehow throughout it all, it came up in his queue of little quips to make you flustered to “jokingly” tell you to sit on his lap.

★ usually, when he would say something so bold, all you would do was grow blushed and continue to pick at your food as you tried to forget what he just told you. But today wasn’t like that.

★ you’re not sure if it was the craving to finally put him in his place, or that you just wanted an excuse to straddle him, you obliged. Placing both legs around his, you sat straddled on his lap.

★ he was more than shocked, assuming that you were just going to brush off his empty requests as you usually did, he wasn’t preparing himself to feel your body pressed up against his as you straddled him in defiance.

★ he was at a loss for words, really. Stammering as he tries to bring back his composure, staring at you on top of him. You could feel friction start to form in lower areas of you two after only a few seconds of you moving positions, which made you as well as him blush furiously at the realization of that.

★ thankfully though, Miu was there to snap you two both out of the heated dazed you shared. Graciously shouting, “HEY! GO FUCK SOMEWHERE ELSE!”. Giving you the mind to remove himself from him and return to your room, the implications of how he felt even after a few moments of your dominance made you burn with shock and fluster, but allowed you to keep a mental note of that for future occurrences.

Kazuichi:

★ you and kazuichi were often troublemakers. Well, he was a troublemaker that dragged you along into his mess. You were a good person, a law-abiding citizen, but after meeting and falling for kazuichi that statement was obligatorily changed.

★ in this specific occurrence, you two were “harmlessly” tampering with someone’s vehicle while they weren’t there, the reasoning behind that is long, but he deserved it.

★ nevertheless, as you stood guard as kazuichi went to work, around 10 minutes in you see the man in question begin to return to his vehicle. You panic, quickly tapping kazuichi, muttering through stutters that he’s back earlier than expected.

★ you two make a break for it, running as fast as you could along with kazuichi as to escape the man. Even running into a little pocket of forest, that swiftly showed itself to be more of a rabbit hole of sorts.

★ Losing your footing, you find yourself falling to the dirt-filled floor. Hearing the giggles and laughter escape both of you as you begin to get up. Though, before you can, you realize exactly where you fell.

★ you were flat on top of him, your hands at either side of his face as to brace your fall. Once he realizes this, the laughter stops. Slowly, you watch his face turn beet red as he looks at you. Unable to speak a word, unable to move.

★ you suffered a similar fate, shocked at how you even ended up in this predicament. Though, after a few moments of silence, you finally gained the courage to start moving. But in doing so, that snapped kazuichi back into focus as well.

★ soon after you began to move, he pulled you on top of him. Though this time, your hands weren’t beside him to allow support ontop of him. You essentially layed on him after he pulled you on top of him, leaving you to feel the growing friction in his pants as the inches between both your faces depleted.

★ as you both lay there, the situation that allowed you two to be there wasn’t the concern. You and him had yet to even be close to being this intimate, especially considering it was unbeknownst pining towards each other until this point. your mind was fogged with less than wholesome thoughts regarding the situation, and it was obvious just by the friction between your jeans that kazuichi felt the same in that remark.

★ as you both lay there, you find yourself subconsciously, very softly, begin grinding on him. Your body just begging to feel him more. As soon as he felt that, he couldn't last another second without his own form of action. He cupped your face with his hands and initiated a kiss between the two of you, deepening it as you continued slowly moving on him.

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buglife · 3 years

Text

Bend and Not Break - Ch 3: A Brand

Read here on AO3 :3

(please there is not nice stuff ahead with implied torture so be careful!)

Well, wasn’t this a predicament.

Monomon looked over her notes with a careful eye. It took three prisoners to get her even close to figuring out what was currently harming her son. It had taken hours and she was starting to get a little frustrated by her lack of progress.

So far, she figured out that what she had was a complex neurotoxin with trace elements of other toxic extracts. She identified hemlock and arsenic at the least, which tickled her since Quirrel used to eat those with no trouble. However, the delivery method was directly into the blood stream so there was no time for the digestive system to break down the toxins and neutralize them. So that just proves that they wanted her son dead and wanted him dead fast.

With that reasoning, she had no problems planning what she was going to do to the next prisoner on her list. There was going to be a fifth but sadly Tiso said she couldn’t have that one. Oh well, it made sense to keep at least one alive. She didn’t ask too many questions, she was too focused on her work to ask why. Ghost had sent a messenger to her every hour to update her on Quirrel’s condition and he had started to take a turn for the worse. The only thing she could do was send up advice on how to keep him comfortable and try to head off any permanent damage.

The last messenger had just departed from her makeshift lab and she slowly turned her head to look at the dragonfly strapped to the chair. He was shivering, his eyes wide as he watched her every movement. He had heard the screams and he most likely knew what was going to happen to him. It made her feel a little better that he was experiencing even an ounce of terror her son must be feeling. But it wasn’t enough, not for her.

Tiso had told her he had a lead on a possible antidote, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Not when it’s her son on the line. She grimly put down her notes and grabbed a fresh syringe. It was time to get back to work.

She refused to fail her child, not now, not ever.

-----

Tiso and Xena had to nearly fight their way through the crowd gathered outside the palace. News on what had happened had reached most of the Kingdom by now, so a vigil had been set up that seemed to get bigger every-time he looked out the windows. Candles and flowers were all over the place as various bugs prayed or tried to comfort each other as they collectively hoped for the King's safety. He was glad that the people were so worried over the nerd, especially when he saw the effects it was having on the prisoner walking with them.

Her name turned out to be Lara, and she had wisely decided to talk. She kept her head down, antenna pinned back in discomfort as they picked their way around the crowd. Her hands and wings were bound under the cloak, hiding the fact she was a prisoner from view. Hopefully, she was beginning to see how wrong she was, but her redemption wasn’t Tiso’s problem right now.

“You should have let me take Pickles with us.” Xena complained. All three of them were wearing heavy cloaks over their armor and bindings in an effort to blend in. “We could have gotten through the crowd faster.”

“That would be the complete opposite of being stealthy, I think.” Tiso deadpanned, keeping a hand around the arm of the ladybug beside him. “We don’t want them to see us coming, and your beast is hard to miss.”

Xena huffed in response. They all finally were able to clear the crowd, leaving the vigil behind as the headed to the Capital. Lara was silent most of the way, seemingly stewing in guilt. When they finally arrived at a rather opulent mansion, she stopped the both of them.

“Here. Like I said. There’s private guards inside and more people like...like me.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “They are probably all there...celebrating.”

“Well it won’t be a fun time for them all for long.” Tiso looked around the street and Lara tried to follow his gaze.

“But...it’s just you two, right? Even being Knights…”

Xena shook her head and made a gesture with her hand as she looked into the darkness in the alleys. Then, several pairs of eyes glittered in the soft light, and they were everywhere. Lara could see dark shapes stealthily climb their way to just above each window and door. They must have called in all the guard for this raid, as Lara lost count as they took their positions. A few were hanging back, most likely there in case someone tried to escape.

“Welp, time to crash a party,” Tiso said, bringing his shield out from under his cloak. He flashed light off the shield three times, and then suddenly, everything went into motion. Guards smashed their way through windows and doors and the screaming started. Each scream was getting cut off one by one as both knights leisurely strolled right up to the front door.

A guard helpfully opened it up from the other side and both knights and prisoner quickly ran inside. Guards were throwing bugs to the floor, quickly shackling them up so they couldn’t escape. The ones that tried to fight back were quickly shown that that was a mistake to make.

“This is outrageous! I can’t believe you would break into my home with no ri-” A rather obnoxious and nasally voice was trying to argue, and was only succeeding at pissing off the guard trying to arrest them. Apparently, they got so frustrating that the guard simply tossed them through one of the large ornate windows inside, spraying glass everywhere. The bug being thrown was clearly someone of wealth and power, judging by the sheer amount of gold on their person. The round bug couldn’t stop themselves from rolling and they ended up right in front of Tiso, who helpfully stopped them with a boot.

“Well well well…” Tiso grinned as he turned over the bug to see their face. “If it isn’t the little grub that got himself banned from court and stripped of nobility for being a gigantic prick.”

Said bug was not a grub, but they started to sputter in anger, mandibles flinging spit as they tried to put words to their rage. If anything they proved they were just so. They were a Jewel beetle and figured himself to be hot shit among the rest of the upper class, and was known for his tantrums. No wonder why he got put in a perpetual time out. Tiso for the life of him, couldn’t remember his name, but sure remembered his annoying, grating voice.

“Unhand me this instant you peasant!” His limbs wiggled, but he was trapped on his back and unable to get up. “I did nothing wrong to warrant this harassment!”

“I would figure treason is a pretty good justification.” He rolled the angry bug to another guard, who began to shackle them up. “Take him to the dungeon and put him in the worst cell we have.”

“Right away sir.” Two guards managed to get the beetle on his feet and made their way to a caged cart waiting outside, already filling up with prisoners. As soon as they were gone, Tiso turned back to Lara, who was still boggling at what was going on around her.

“Hey.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face, shocking her back into reality. “Where do we get the antidote?”

She glanced around the room, before pointing. “Here,” she said, indicating a locked door to the side. “That’s where the make the poison, at least, I think they do. I wasn’t allowed to go down there, and I don’t have a key.”

“We don’t need a key.” Tiso hefted his shield over his shoulder.

“Be careful,” Lara said, looking to the door. “It’s stairs behind there, I think it goes to the basement.”

“Alright then.” Xena pointed to a pair of guards that seemed to be free for the moment. “Stay with them, and do not move. Cooperate with them and answer any questions they may have.” Her tone left no room for argument, and Lara nodded and did as she was told.

Tiso readied his shield, and then threw himself at the door. The door rattled on it’s hinges, the lock vibrating from the hit as Tiso readied himself again. It four solid bashes for the door to finally crack enough where the lock simply fell apart. Everyone paused, listening, but there was only silence.

He gestured to Xena and a few other guards to follow as they silently and carefully trudged down the stairs. Soon they could hear snippets of voices and the further down the went, the clearer the voices became.

“Please….please don’t! I don’t want this! Stop!” There was a voice, sounding feminine and high. They were sobbing, words forced out between the rare times where they could catch their breath. They sounded absolutely miserable.

“This is for the good of the people,” answered another voice. It was deeper and held a cold edge to it. “It wouldn’t be so hard for you if you just cooperated.”

“I won’t! I won’t!” There was a sharp, zapping noise and the sobbing voice screamed. A flash of light blinked from the crack under the door and the sobbing melted into soft weeping.

Tiso took position around the door, Xena to the other side. He held up his hand, and folded down a claw counting down from three. When he reached zero, they both turned and kicked down the door. It practically flew off its hinges and collided hard with someone on the other side. Judging by the shout, it was the deeper voice they hit. Both knights and their guards swarmed into the room.

What awaited them was a terrible sight.

A scorpion was chained to a chair, crying in pain, her tail and stinger stretched out behind her and strapped to a bench. One of her eyes was swollen shut and there were cracks in her chitin, deep blue bruising blooming under the softer skin-like parts of her belly and sides.

Xena gasped, glancing at her pincers, thin and long instead of the more common large variety. “Holy shit, that’s a deathstalker!”

“A what?” Tiso was standing on the door, pinning down whoever was underneath. Whoever it was, seemed to have been knocked for a loop. It was easy for him to grab the limbs poking out from under the door and putting cuffs on them.

“A deathstalker.” Xena sounded awed. “They have some of the deadliest venom among bug-kind. Incredibly rare and secretive as a people.”

The scorpion continued her crying. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I couldn’t stop them!”

“Stop wh-?” Tiso’s eyes landed on a few jars filled with yellow fluid sitting on what appeared to be a work table. There were other bottles and jars that were labeled, but his eyes were drawn to the jars of fluid. Then he looked down at the bug, a beetle it seemed, squished under the door. The jar they were holding had rolled away, also containing a small amount of the same fluid. He glanced to the stinger, strapped down and leaking slightly from the tip, some incredibly angry charged lumaflies in a jar beside it.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“That’s...that’s fucking sick. I can’t…” The ant could barely think of a response to all of this. He heard a few guardsmen behind him, also boggling at the situation. He took a deep breath, and addressed them. “You know what to do, gather evidence and look everywhere. Someone send a message to Monomon and fast.”

The rest of the guard went about their duties, carefully checking cabinets and the walls, looking for anymore surprises. One waited around long enough for Xena to tell them exactly what the message should say, before they raced upstairs to deliver it. With that taken care of, Xena went about freeing the scorpion, who was still babbling, moving as carefully as she could to prevent anymore pain.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Shh, I know. You’ll be alright. I know this wasn’t your fault.” Xena was rarely the type to be gentle, but this was a situation that definitely required it. “We’ll get to you to a doctor and you’ll be okay. You’re safe now, they won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

“But...but they said they were going to-” The scorpion wobbled and collapsed back into the chair, her limbs spasming and twitching. It seemed like she wasn’t going to be able to walk under her own power.

“You two! Get a stretcher!” Xena barked at some of the guards. As they went to fetch one, Xena knelt down and took her now freed pincer in her hand. “Everyone is okay, we’ll talk about that later. What’s your name?”

“Poppy.” She seemed to be calming down, but instead of outright sobbing she started to shiver. Xena took off her cloak and set it around Poppy’s shoulders. She knew what shock looked like and she didn’t want this poor arachnid to suffer anymore than she had too. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for a stretcher to appear and Xena helped her on.

Once Poppy was secure, she sent them back to the palace to be seen by Monomon. Until they can verify a doctor, the scientist will have to make due. She at least had extensive experience in patching up the wounded and could at least make the scorpion comfortable. She made sure to include in the message that she was a victim and not one of the collaborators. Making a note to check on Poppy later, and turned to look at Tiso.

She sighed.

Tiso had the beetle pinned to the floor, and was threatening them with a bottle of collected venom. “Where’s the antidote, asshole!”

“I...I-” They sputtered and tried to wiggle free.

“Wrong answer!” He started to unscrew the jar. “Lets give ya a taste of your own medicine!”

Xena sighed. “Tiso…”

“Yeah?” He inclined his head at her, ignoring the beetle freaking the hell out under his boot.

“Give the bastard time to answer.”

“Fine,” he pouted. He screwed the lid back on. “Tell me where the antidote is. And before you stagshit me, I know there’s one. Because nobody ever made any poison without one in case they fuck up and stab themselves with it. So. Where. Is. It.” He punctuated each word by poking the beetle in the face, hard.

The beetle coughed and moved an arm to point at the work table. “B—blue bottle,” he wheezed.

Xena walked over to pick up the bottle, scrutinizing it. “There’s no way we are just gonna use it without testing it first.”

“That’s what Monomon is for.” Tiso grabbed up the beetle and clicked their arms behind their back. “Let’s get this all packed together quickly and bring it over.”

“I told the messenger that that’s what we were going to do.” Xena grabbed a spare box sitting around, and began carefully packing up all the bottles and notes that were on the work table.

“I’m never gonna get to smooch my girlfriends at this rate.” Tiso sighed. “We’ll be in the dungeons forever processing all of this.”

“Cry me a river, I’m not gonna be able to smooch mine either.” Xena handed the now full box to a guard and sent them on their way. “Let’s just focus on our work, we got lives on the line after all.”

“Yeah I know, but I’m still allowed to whine about it.” The beetle found himself wincing as Tiso dragged him up the stairs, letting them hit every stone step on the way. “I’ll see you back there soon, I’m gonna take in the prisoners.”

Said beetle was now sorely starting to regret his current life decisions.

-----

Quirrel was quickly getting frustrated. He found himself in the archive library, nooks and crannies stretching as far as he could see. The various scrolls, books, and stone tablets were scatter haphazardly and he had to put things right. But he couldn’t read the words in order to sort them, or he’d pick up a tablet for it to change into a book. There was so much to do, and he couldn’t even get something as simple as reading correct! Mother would be home soon and she always expected her library to be put back in order. He was going to get a scolding for this, for sure.

Truly, this was a nightmare.

“You cannot read because this is a dream.” Came a voice from behind him, suddenly making the air less foggy and thick. Quirrel whirred around, startled into dropping the stack of books he was carrying. He didn’t notice them falling apart into motes of essence as he lost his focus, looking to the figure sitting in one of the armchairs instead. “Surely, the proclaimed ‘Scholar King’ would know such a thing.”

They were a tall, elegant bug dressed in reds and blacks. Quirrel wasn’t quite sure on the species, they looked like a blend between a moth and a firefly. They were lounging, watching Quirrel with bright red eyes. Then, with all the manners of a showman, they straightened up to smile at him, and gestured with a bow.

“We’ve met before, though I understand if you are having trouble, due to your circumstances.” Their voice was deep and smoky, with an undertone of mystery and confidence. It was very familiar.

“Come and sit,” they gestured to a chair that suddenly appeared next to theirs. “We have much to discuss, and not so much time to do so.” A small table with a teapot appeared before them, still steaming hot and smelling wonderful. Oddly enough, there was a strange glowing red jar next to the honey and tiny sandwiches. He didn’t quite know what to do, but he did know that this bug was not going to harm him, somehow. So he walked over to sit, watching as the archives twisted and melted, changing into a cozy room with a lit fireplace. Quirrel sat, glancing to the jar. It had a very ominous feeling that made his chitin itch and a primal dread well up in his belly.

“Don’t mind that, it’s for me.” The bug continued, they poured out some tea and handed Quirrel a cup. They opened the jar and plucked out a few red marbles and dropped it into theirs. They stirred it with a smile and took a sip.

“What was that?” Quirrel was now intrigued, watching the other bug take another sip before holding the cup elegantly in their claws.

“Nightmares, my friend. Your dear spouse prunes them from their kingdom and saves them for my child and I.”

“Wait...you eat nightmares?” Quirrel glanced to his own cup, antenna twitching in thought. Spouse? He had to think hard for a moment, and took a sip of tea. It tasted like happiness, and it helped to jog his memory as he felt the pain in his head lessen somewhat. Spouse...spouse...a tall bug, no, vessel appeared in his minds eye. They were once so little and they were now big and elegant. They were a...a…Ghost.

He suddenly could remember Ghost. The first time they met in the Temple of the Black Egg so long ago and how the years flew by and suddenly they were married. They were rulers. He took a moment to remember exactly what they did besides ruling, and it came to him.

Ghost did go into the dream realm and told him about clipping away the nightmares from their subjects. Some, they left, if the dreamer needed or deserved them. So this was….

“Grimm?” Quirrel hesitantly voiced, “The Nightmare King?”

“Correct.” Grimm smiled as he took another sip of tea. “There’s the intelligent bug that causes a certain god to swoon.”

“So that means….”

“You are in a nightmare, yes.”

“It doesn't feel so bad?” Quirrel pondered, his tea somehow staying warm. “How is this a nightmare?”

“Because you are very sick, my friend. Do you remember what happened?” Grimm set down their cup, folding their claws together to regard Quirrel with intense focus.

Quirrel closed his eyes and thought, digging deep down into his own mind. “I was...with Ghost. In public. There were flashes then...I don’t remember?”

“Flashes hrm? Do me a favor, and take a look at yourself.” Grimm pointed with a claw, and Quirrel followed his gaze.

There, on his abdomen, was a nice gash. Certainly not deep enough to kill him, that’s for sure. But there was something…strange about it. Looking past the blue of his own blood was...another color? It was...yellow? It mixed together, turning his blood green as it trickled down his side and on to the chair. It seemed to vanish as soon as it touched the fabric. He touched his wound and felt only a numbness in response. Now that he saw it, he remembered.

“Someone tried to kill us.”

“Indeed, they did. And you were poisoned.” Grimm tilted their head, seemingly pleased that Quirrel had remembered so quickly. “Thankfully, your assassins didn’t take your biology into account.”

“Pillbugs are resistant to poisons.” it dawned on Quirrel. He was poisoned, but he wasn’t dead. He was...in between?

“Yes. You, however, are quite sick, and your friends and family are worried for you. Especially, your spouse, and my friend.” Grimm snapped his fingers, and the wound vanished like it was never there.

Quirrel took a moment to think, mulling over the obvious question.

“Am I going to die?”

Grimm shook his head with a soft smile. “Not likely. Everyone is working hard to bring you back to the waking world. Until then, I am here.”

Quirrel leaned back. “So...are you here to just eat my nightmares? Why are you here? Not that I don’t mind the company, I am just curious. Surely you must have something more important to do.”

“I owe Ghost greatly. Because of them, my daughter thrives. They cared for them even before the beginning of new Hallownest. They have provided a way to be sure that they will always have the scarlet flames they need to grow, and a way for us to feed without resorting to parasitism.” Grimm sounded fond. “So, I decided to keep you company until you awaken once more. It’s the very least I can do.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” Quirrel smiled. “Tell me, have you visited any interesting places outside of Hallownest?”

“I have, shall I tell you about them?”

“Please.” Quirrel sipped his tea and decided that perhaps, this wasn’t the worst way to pass the time. He needed to wake up, but that wasn’t in his control, he just hoped everyone would be alright until then.

-----

Ghost has yet to move from their husband’s side. Time seemed to come to a crawl, and they found themselves hanging on to every labored breath, every intake of air that Quirrel managed to take. There was always that split second of fear when they thought he had stopped breathing, only for him to thankfully, take another breath. It was exhausting and everything inside them ached for their beloved, helpless to do anything. Monomon of course, sent up advice. They had used cold water in an effort to bring down their fever. Made sure to keep their gills moist as a way to keep them hydrated. They dared not try to make him drink anything, not with their breathing so bad. They were trying so hard.

They found it ironic. All the power in the world but they couldn’t heal the ones they love the most. They could destroy all they want, but they couldn’t fix things this complicated.

They didn’t want to think about what would happen if things were to go terribly wrong.

They had nightmares before of losing Quirrel, back when they still slept like a normal bug. It had started during their journey through Hallownest before they defeated the radiance. Quirrel was one of the few positive experiences during that horrible time. Every time they saw him at some new place or another, they felt safe, and happy. It was like being offered a warm cup of cocoa when you were freezing to death, desperate to grasp onto any scrap of goodness you could find. Quirrel definitely fit the bill, and he and the others reminded them of what they were fighting to save.

Even when they finally got up on the growth they missed and took the throne, they still feared losing their best friend. Said best friend eventually turned into an awkward romantic interest and it was downhill right into the feelings from there.

They looked down at the bundled up pillbug and they could sense that he was dreaming. It was certainly better than being in agony, and he hoped that his dreams were of good things.

“Quirrel,” They crooned softly and rested their chin on his arm, afraid to place it on the usual spot on his chest in case it hindered his breathing. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but please don’t go. I love you.”

The only reply they got was Quirrel’s hand twitching as one of his nerves misfired.

The door opened softly and Ghost snapped their head up, alert for any type of danger. They had failed to protect Quirrel then...and they weren’t going to slip up again.

Thankfully, it was one of the few people they trusted with their life.

“My child,” Mato quietly shut the door behind him. “I came as quickly as I could.”

Ghost shook, feeling tears once again prickle in the corners of their eyes, threatening to spill over and stain everything again. “Father…”

The large bug crossed the room with scarcely a noise and pulled Ghost into a hug. They nuzzled into the warm fluff around his cloak and let their tears fall. “Father...I’m scared.”

“I know you are. It’s part of loving someone.” He rubbed small circles into their back, a way he learned that they liked to be comforted. “I know this is a very frightening situation for you, so I’m here to help.”

“I’ve been watching, and I h-”

“All day?” Mato let go to look into their eyes.

“Yes, and -”

“Did you eat? Sleep? Drink water?”

Ghost had to take a moment to think of an answer.

“Then you need to do both and you need to do it now. No butts, no excuses.” Mato turned them around and started to march them to the kitchenette in their apartment.

“I am a god, I don’t need to do those things.” Ghost knew better than to fight it, letting themselves be led to the icebox. Mato raided the inside, pulling out a bowl of leftover stew and pouring a glass of water.

“You may be a god, but I am still your father and I know that you need these things for your own sanity.” Mato passed over the stew, which quickly vanished into the void of their mouth. “You need to take a break, and take care of yourself or you will burn out and we’ll have two injured bugs on our hands.”

Ghost nodded mutely, accepting the glass of water and draining it as well. They didn’t know if they were imagining things or not, but it did make them feel a little better. Mato watched, nodding in approval.

“Good, now you rest, and I will keep watch over the both of you.” He had grabbed them again by the shoulders, and was leading them back to the nest.

“But you just got here, you must be tired too.”

“I can manage a few hours enough to let you rest up a bit. What kind of father would I be if I couldn’t give my child time to recover from a terrible ordeal?” Ghost was picked up and placed inside the nest next to Quirrel. They reflexively moved to hold them as Mato pulled the covers up around them. They started to purr, hoping that Quirrel could feel their love for him, even in the world of dreams.

Mato started humming, moving around to tidy up and starting a fire in the fireplace. It was the music of care and support that eventually lulled them into a state of peace. The stress of everything had taken a toll on them, and it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep, curled up next to their husband.

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