#i just need to piece it together in the right way in the right order and right emphasis

[lunardragon00]

Supernatural (Hongjoong x Reader)

Eternal Sunshine Masterlist

Fashion Designer!Hongjoong x Journalist!reader

This love's possessing me, but I don't mind at all It's like supernatural It's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall

The alarm blared, disrupting the quiet of y/n's apartment. Groaning, she fumbled for the snooze button, her hand finally finding its mark. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed, her mind already buzzing with the day ahead.

After a quick shower and a hurried breakfast, y/n stepped out into the bustling streets of the city. The cool morning air greeted her, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting from nearby cafes. With a glance at her watch, she quickened her pace, knowing she couldn't afford to be late for work.

The familiar routine of her morning commute unfolded: the rhythmic clatter of the subway train, the chatter of commuters, the fleeting glimpses of city landmarks flashing by the windows. Lost in her thoughts, y/n barely noticed the passing scenery as she mentally prepared for the day ahead.

Finally reaching her office, y/n greeted her colleagues with a tired smile before settling into her desk. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the rows of cubicles. With a sigh, she powered up her computer, steeling herself for another day of deadlines and assignments.

As the morning wore on, y/n found herself in need of a caffeine fix. Grabbing her coat, she made her way to the nearest coffee shop, the scent of freshly ground beans drawing her in like a siren's call. With a grateful smile, she ordered her usual—a strong black coffee—and settled into a corner booth, savoring the first sip as it warmed her from the inside out.

With her coffee in hand, y/n returned to the office, ready to tackle the day's tasks. As she walked past the glass windows, a figure steps out of their office. 

"Hey, Y/N, can you come in here real quick." y/n nodded, setting her coffee cup down on her desk before making her way to the office where the figure stood waiting. She recognized him as her editor, Mr. Johnson, a no-nonsense man with a keen eye for news. Entering the office, y/n greeted him with a polite smile. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Johnson?"

Mr. Johnson gestured for her to take a seat opposite his desk. "Yes, Miss L/N, I have an assignment for you." He paused, eyeing her over the rim of his glasses. "It's a big one."

Curiosity flickered in Y/N's eyes as she leaned forward, intrigued. "What's the assignment?"

Mr. Johnson leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "We've been granted exclusive access to cover the rise of a promising young fashion designer. Kim Hongjoong."

Y/N's brow furrowed slightly. "Kim Hongjoong? I'm not sure I'm the right person for a fashion story, sir. Besides, I've already started working on the writer's strike piece."

Mr. Johnson arched an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "I understand your reservations, Miss L/N, but this is a unique opportunity for us. Hongjoong's story is more than just fashion; it's about ambition, creativity, and the relentless pursuit of excellence. I need someone who can capture the essence of his journey, someone with a fresh perspective."

Y/N hesitated, weighing her options. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused. You want me to write the strike story and the fashion story?" She questioned him. He leaned back and laughed a bit. 

"Oh no no no, the striker's story will be given to Jongho. I want your focus to be on Mr. Kim. Don't worry, you'll still have 3 weeks to get the story done." Y/N felt a surge of frustration rising within her as Mr. Johnson clarified the assignment. She had poured countless hours into researching and preparing the striker's story, only to have it snatched away in an instant. And now, she was being thrust into a world she knew little about – the world of high fashion.

"But sir," she began, trying to keep her voice steady despite the annoyance bubbling beneath the surface, "I've been working on the striker's story for weeks. I've invested a lot of time and effort into it. I don't think it's fair to just pass it on to someone else."

Mr. Johnson leaned forward, his expression serious. "I understand your frustration, Miss L/N, but this is a decision that's come from higher up. The opportunity to cover Kim Hongjoong's rise to fame is too important for us to pass up. And I believe you're the right person for the job."

Y/N gritted her teeth, her annoyance growing with each passing moment. She knew Mr. Johnson had a point – opportunities like this didn't come around often – but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

"And what about Jongho?" she asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "He's going to be thrilled about getting the striker's story handed to him on a silver platter. He's going to see this as a victory over me."

Mr. Johnson sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off an impending headache. "I know Jongho can be... competitive," he admitted, "but this decision wasn't made to pit the two of you against each other. It was made because I believe both of you are capable of handling these assignments. And I trust that you'll rise to the challenge."

Y/N clenched her fists, her frustration reaching its boiling point. She knew arguing further would be futile; Mr. Johnson had made up his mind. With a resigned nod, she forced herself to accept the assignment, pushing aside her annoyance for the time being.

"Fine," she muttered, her tone curt. "I'll do it."

Mr. Johnson offered her a sympathetic smile. "I know this isn't what you had in mind, Y/N, but I promise you won't regret it. Now, go meet with Hongjoong and see where this story takes you. Who knows? You might just discover a whole new world waiting to be explored."

With a heavy sigh, Y/N rose from her seat, her mind already racing with thoughts of the daunting task ahead. As she left Mr. Johnson's office, she couldn't shake the feeling of resentment lingering in the air. But she knew she had no choice but to tackle the assignment head-on, no matter how much she wished things had turned out differently.

"This is such bullshit, I mean I worked day and night on that stupid article. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it and now it's going to just be handed off to Jongho. And now, I have to write and article about some random guy from nowhere land. It's an insult, seriously." Y/N stirred the pot of pasta on the stove as she spoke. 

"I'm sorry hun, that sucks. But hey, maybe it won't be so bad, he could be a cool guy." Her friend, Wooyoung, trying to offer sympathy to her. Y/N huffed, her frustration still evident. 

"I highly doubt it. He's just some fashion designer, probably full of himself and his fancy clothes. What could I possibly have in common with him?" She saw Wooyoung shrug through the camera, his expression thoughtful. "You never know until you give it a chance. And who knows? This assignment could lead to something unexpected. Maybe you'll find a new passion, or even make a new friend."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a small part of her couldn't help but entertain the possibility. "Yeah, right. I highly doubt that." As she continued to stir the pasta, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of resentment lingering in her chest. But amidst the frustration and disappointment, a tiny spark of curiosity flickered to life. Maybe, just maybe, this assignment would turn out to be more than just a nuisance. Only time would tell.

"Hey, when are you coming over again? I need my drinking buddy, especially if I have to deal with some stuck up prick for almost a month." She heard wooyoung laugh through the speaker. 

"I'll make sure to clear my schedule for you. We'll drown in our sorrows together," Wooyoung replied with a chuckle. Y/N couldn't help but crack a smile at Wooyoung's lighthearted response. Despite her frustration, his unwavering support brought a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

"Thanks, Wooyoung. I appreciate it," she said, her tone softening slightly.

"Anytime, Y/N. Remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what," Wooyoung reassured her.

With a nod of gratitude, Y/N focused her attention back on the pasta, the rhythmic stirring providing a soothing rhythm to her troubled mind. As she contemplated the upcoming assignment and the challenges it would bring, a sense of determination welled up within her.

"Alright, let's plan for a night of debauchery then," she declared with a hint of newfound resolve.

The next day arrived, and Y/N found herself awake before the crack of dawn, her mind already buzzing with thoughts of the upcoming assignment. Determined to make the most of the opportunity, she had set her alarm early to dive into research on this Kim Hongjoong guy, the enigmatic fashion designer who had suddenly become the focus of her journalistic endeavors.

With a steaming cup of coffee in hand, Y/N settled into her cozy living room, her laptop open before her. She typed Kim Hongjoong's name into the search bar, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she delved into the depths of the internet in search of information.

As she sifted through articles, interviews, and social media profiles, Y/N began to piece together a picture of the man behind the designer label. She discovered that Kim Hongjoong had risen to prominence in the fashion world at a remarkably young age, his bold and innovative designs earning him praise from critics and admiration from fashion enthusiasts around the globe.

But amidst the glitz and glamour of the fashion industry, Y/N had found almost nothing about his life before fame. Nothing about his home life, nothing about his family, and barely anything about his friends. Hours passed in a blur as Y/N immersed herself in her research, her determination fueling her relentless pursuit of knowledge. By the time the sun began to peek through the curtains, she had compiled a wealth of information on Kim Hongjoong, ready to embark on the next phase of her assignment.

Y/N navigated the bustling streets of Seoul with purpose, her steps quick and determined as she made her way to Hongjoong's office. The city buzzed with energy around her, a vibrant tapestry of sights and sounds that served as the backdrop to her journey.

As she weaved through the crowded sidewalks, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the juxtaposition of modernity and tradition that defined Seoul. Towering skyscrapers loomed overhead, their glass facades reflecting the morning sunlight, while historic palaces nestled amidst the urban sprawl, remnants of a bygone era.

With each step, Y/N felt a sense of dread building within her. She was about to meet Kim Hongjoong, the rising star of the fashion world, and she couldn't help but wonder what awaited her behind the doors of his office. Finally, y/n arrived at her destination – a sleek, modern building nestled amidst the towering structures of the city skyline. With a sense of determination, she pushed open the glass doors and stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the pristine interior.

As Y/N made her way through the lobby, her gaze scanning the pristine interior, she was halted by a woman in heels standing by the elevator.

"Ma'am, you need to check in," the woman said politely, her tone firm but courteous. Y/N nodded, realizing she hadn't yet announced her arrival. "Of course, I'm here to see Kim Hongjoong," she replied, offering a small smile.

The woman nodded in acknowledgment and motioned for Y/N to follow her. Together, they approached a sleek reception desk where another impeccably dressed individual sat behind a computer screen.

"Good morning, how may I assist you?" the receptionist asked with a professional demeanor.

"I'm here to see Kim Hongjoong," Y/N repeated, feeling a twinge of nervousness creeping in despite her best efforts to remain composed. The receptionist typed something into the computer before glancing up at Y/N with a polite smile. "And your name, please?"

"Y/N.....Y/N L/N," she replied, feeling a surge of anticipation as she awaited the receptionist's response.

After a moment of typing, the receptionist nodded. "Ah, yes. You're expected. Please sign in here, and Mr. Kim's assistant will be with you shortly."

Y/N complied, quickly scribbling her signature on the designated spot before handing the pen back to the receptionist.

"Thank you. Please wait in the designated area over there," the receptionist said, gesturing towards a stylish seating area off to the side.

With a nod of gratitude, Y/N made her way to the designated area, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. She couldn't help but wonder what awaited her behind the doors of Kim Hongjoong's office, and she was determined to find out.

As Y/N settled into the designated seating area, she couldn't shake the nervous energy coursing through her veins. She glanced around the sleek and modern lobby, taking in the minimalist decor and the hushed murmurs of other visitors waiting nearby. Minutes felt like hours as Y/N anxiously waited for his assistant to arrive. Her mind raced with questions and uncertainties, her anticipation building with each passing moment.

Finally, a door to the side of the lobby opened, and a sharply dressed woman emerged. "Miss L/N?" she called out, her voice cutting through the air.

y/n rose from her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes, that's me," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

The woman offered a warm smile as she approached. "I'm Mr. Kim's assistant. He's ready to see you now."

Y/N followed the assistant through the door, her pulse quickening with each step. She couldn't help but wonder what awaited her behind the closed doors of Kim Hongjoong's office – a world of glamour and creativity, or something more unexpected. As they reached the door to Kim Hongjoong's office, the assistant paused and turned to Y/N with a reassuring smile. "Good luck, Miss L/N."

With a grateful nod, Y/N took a deep breath and braced herself before stepping through the door, ready to embark on the next chapter of her assignment and uncover the mysteries hidden within the world of high fashion.

As Y/N entered Kim Hongjoong's office, she couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension mingled with her professional demeanor. The sleek interior of the room exuded an air of sophistication, from the modern furnishings to the artfully arranged fashion sketches adorning the walls.

Kim Hongjoong rose from his seat behind the desk, his presence commanding attention. Despite her reservations, Y/N couldn't deny the subtle charm that emanated from him as he extended his hand in greeting.

"Miss L/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said with a warm smile, his voice carrying a hint of genuine warmth.

Y/N accepted his handshake with a nod, her expression carefully neutral. "Likewise, Mr. Kim," she replied, her tone professional. As they settled into their respective seats, Y/N wasted no time in getting down to business. She fired off questions with precision, her demeanor cool and detached as she sought to glean insights into Kim Hongjoong's rise to fame and his creative process.

To her surprise, Kim Hongjoong proved to be an engaging and candid interviewee. He spoke with passion and conviction about his journey in the fashion industry, sharing anecdotes and insights that offered glimpses into the man behind the designer label.

As the interview progressed, Y/N found herself gradually letting her guard down, intrigued by Kim Hongjoong's sincerity and humility. Despite her initial skepticism, she couldn't deny the genuine passion he exuded for his craft, nor the depth of his knowledge and experience.

By the time the interview drew to a close, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of intrigue that lingered within her. Perhaps there was more to Kim Hongjoong than met the eye – perhaps he wasn't just another arrogant celebrity living off his family's wealth.

"That was great, Mr. Kim," she remarked, her tone softer than before. "If it's alright, I would love to come by your studio sometime this week and watch you work."

Kim Hongjoong's eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm at the suggestion. "Of course, I'd be delighted to have you visit," he replied warmly, his smile infectious. "I'll have my assistant arrange everything. It'll be a pleasure to show you the creative process behind my designs."

Y/N couldn't suppress the flicker of excitement that sparked within her at the prospect of witnessing Kim Hongjoong's creative process firsthand. Despite her initial reluctance to take on the assignment, she couldn't deny the allure of delving deeper into the world of high fashion and exploring the complexities of Kim Hongjoong's journey.

With a nod of gratitude, Y/N rose from her seat, feeling a newfound sense of curiosity and anticipation coursing through her veins. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Kim Hongjoong than met the eye. 

As Y/N observed Hongjoong and his team tirelessly working to put together outfits for the upcoming fashion show, she couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from the flurry of activity surrounding her. Despite Kim Hongjoong's kindness during their interview a few days prior, she remained largely disinterested in the fashion aspect of everything.

She watched from the sidelines as fabrics were draped and patterns were meticulously arranged, her mind drifting to other matters. The intricate details of the garments held little significance to her, and she found it difficult to muster the same level of enthusiasm as those around her.

Kim Hongjoong, ever the gracious host, occasionally glanced her way with a smile, eager to share his creative process with her. But Y/N's attention remained elsewhere, her thoughts consumed by the pressing deadlines and obligations awaiting her outside the realm of high fashion.

As the day wore on, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of restlessness gnawing at her. Despite her best efforts to immerse herself in the world of fashion, she found it increasingly difficult to connect with the intricate workings of Kim Hongjoong's design process.

But amidst the chaos of the fashion studio, a small spark of curiosity flickered within her. Despite her initial reluctance, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what drove Kim Hongjoong and his team to pour their hearts and souls into their creations. Perhaps there was more to the world of fashion than met the eye – and she was determined to uncover the truth, no matter where it might lead.

Summoning her professionalism, Y/N approached Kim Hongjoong during a brief lull in the chaos, her notepad in hand as she prepared to conduct her interview.

"Mr. Kim," she began, her tone businesslike yet polite, "I'd like to ask you a few questions for the report. What inspired the collection you're working on for the upcoming fashion show?"

Hongjoong turned his attention to Y/N, his expression brightening as he welcomed the opportunity to share his creative process. "Of course," he replied, his voice warm and inviting. "The inspiration behind this collection is a blend of traditional Korean elements with a modern twist. I wanted to pay homage to my cultural heritage while also pushing the boundaries of contemporary fashion."

Y/N nodded attentively, scribbling notes as Kim Hongjoong elaborated on his vision. Despite her initial reservations, she couldn't help but be drawn in by his passion and sincerity.

"And how do you go about translating that inspiration into your designs?" she inquired, eager to delve deeper into his creative process. Hongjoong's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he launched into a detailed explanation, his gestures animated as he described the meticulous craftsmanship and attention to detail that went into each garment. He spoke of hours spent sketching, draping fabrics, and experimenting with textures and colors until his vision was brought to life.

As Y/N listened to Kim Hongjoong's words, she felt a newfound sense of admiration for the fashion designer before her. Despite her initial skepticism, she couldn't deny the depth of his dedication to his craft and the genuine passion he exuded for his work.

With each passing moment, Y/N found herself becoming increasingly intrigued by Kim Hongjoong and the world he inhabited. But Y/N wasn't content with just Kim Hongjoong's perspective. She sought out other members of his team, eager to gain insight into their experiences working alongside the renowned fashion designer.

"Excuse me," she addressed one of the seamstresses, her voice polite yet inquisitive. "What's it like working with Mr. Kim? How would you describe his approach to design?"

The seamstress smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling with admiration for her boss. "Oh, Mr. Kim is truly a visionary. He's incredibly dedicated to his craft and always pushes us to do our best work. It's an honor to be part of his team."

As Y/N continued her interviews with various members of Kim Hongjoong's team, she couldn't help but notice the genuine respect and admiration they all held for their leader. She couldn't deny the impact Kim Hongjoong had on those around him, nor the depth of his commitment to his art.

The day drew to a close, the bustling activity in the fashion studio gradually subsided, signaling the end of another productive day. Fabrics were neatly folded, sketches were carefully stored away, and the last few adjustments were made to the outfits for the upcoming fashion show.

Kim Hongjoong, ever the gracious host, approached Y/N with a warm smile. "Thank you for joining us today, Miss L/N," he said, his tone genuine. "I hope you found the experience enlightening."

Y/N returned his smile, a sense of newfound respect evident in her expression. "Thank you, Mr. Kim," she replied, her voice sincere. "It was certainly an eye-opening experience. I appreciate you taking the time to share your insights with me."

As the rest of the team began to pack up and prepare to leave for the day, Hongjoong turned to Y/N once more. "Before you go, would you like to grab a coffee or a bite to eat? I'd love to continue our conversation."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her initial reluctance warring with the growing curiosity within her. But ultimately, she found herself nodding in agreement. "I'd like that," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Together, Y/N and Kim Hongjoong made their way out of the studio, making their way to a nearby coffee house that Hongjoong favors. The atmosphere in the coffee house was cozy and inviting, a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the fashion studio. Y/N and Kim Hongjoong found a secluded corner table, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they sipped on steaming cups of coffee.

"So, what did you think?" He asked, taking a sip out of the mug the barista had handed him moments ago. 

Y/N paused for a moment, considering her response carefully. "Honestly?" she began, meeting his gaze with a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "I didn't expect to enjoy myself as much as I did today. I've never been particularly interested in fashion, but seeing the passion and dedication you and your team put into your work... it's inspiring."

Hongjoong smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting genuine appreciation for her words. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Fashion is more than just clothes – it's a form of self-expression, a way to tell stories and evoke emotions. I'm honored to be able to share that with you." Taking out her notepad, she quickly jotted the line down, mind still focused on work. Hongjoong smiled seeing this and gently took the pen out of her hand. 

"You know, I was hoping to get to know more about you Miss L/N. I've only met the person interviewing me." Y/N felt a slight flush creep into her cheeks as Kim Hongjoong's words registered. She hadn't expected him to express an interest in her beyond their professional interaction. Despite her initial reluctance, she found herself intrigued by the prospect of getting to know him better outside the confines of their interview.

"I... I suppose there's not much to know," she replied, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. "I'm just your average journalist, always chasing after the next story."

Hongjoong's smile only widened at her response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "I highly doubt that," he said, his tone playful. "I have a feeling there's much more to you than meets the eye. But hey, if you're not ready to spill all your secrets just yet, I understand. We've got plenty of time."

Y/N couldn't help but return his smile, her initial reservations melting away in the warmth of his presence. "What is it you'd like to know?" Y/N asked, her voice betraying a hint of curiosity despite her attempts to remain composed.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he considered her question. "Well, for starters, what led you to become a journalist?" he asked, his gaze never wavering from hers.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her mind drifting back to the defining moments that had shaped her career path. "I suppose it all started when I was young," she began, her tone introspective. "I've always had a passion for storytelling and a desire to uncover the truth. Journalism felt like the perfect outlet for both."

As she spoke, Y/N found herself opening up to Kim Hongjoong in a way she hadn't expected. His genuine interest in her story made her feel seen and heard in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. "And what about you?" she asked, eager to turn the spotlight back on him. "What inspired you to pursue a career in fashion?"

"Please, we've been talking about me all day, I'm sure your sick of me talking about myself." Y/N couldn't help but smile at Hongjoong's response, appreciating his humility and consideration. 

"Well, in that case, let's change the subject," she replied, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus away from herself for a moment. "How about we talk about something completely unrelated to work?" Hongjoong's eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned back in his chair, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm all ears," he said, his tone light and inviting.

And so, Y/N and Hongjoong spent the rest of the evening engaged in lively conversation, their laughter mingling with the ambient chatter of the coffee house. They talked about everything and nothing – from their favorite books and movies to their most embarrassing childhood memories.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself completely immersed in the moment, grateful for the chance to simply be herself in the company of someone who accepted her without judgment or pretense.

By the time they finally parted ways, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected connection she had forged with Kim Hongjoong. Despite their vastly different  professions, they had discovered a shared sense of camaraderie and understanding that transcended the boundaries of their respective worlds. As she made her way home, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and contentment that filled her heart. 

"You're in trouble." Y/N stopped her task and looked at her friend. "Why do you say that." She asked. Wooyoung gave a stern look to her and stood. 

"Have you realized you've been talking about nothing but Hongjoong for the past hour. I mean, come on, I know your doing this story on him but you sound obsessed. You'd think being around him 24/7 for the past week would make you not want to talk about him"  Y/N paused, her friend's words sinking in as she considered them carefully. "I... I hadn't realized," she admitted, her brows furrowing in concern. 

"I didn't mean to come across as obsessed. It's just... he's been on my mind a lot lately, with the interviews and everything." Wooyoung nodded sympathetically, taking a seat beside her. "I get it, believe me. But you need to remember to keep some perspective. This isn't just about Kim Hongjoong – it's about the story you're telling. Don't lose sight of that."

Y/N sighed, feeling a sense of guilt wash over her. "You're right," she conceded, her voice tinged with regret. "I guess I got caught up in the excitement of it all and forgot why I started this in the first place."

Wooyoung placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering her a reassuring smile. "Hey, it happens to the best of us. Just take a step back, breathe, and refocus. You've got this."

Feeling a renewed sense of determination, Y/N nodded, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thanks, Wooyoung. I needed that."

"Is he at least nice?" Wooyoung asked. Y/N paused for a moment, her mind drifting back to her interactions with Hongjoong. Despite her initial reservations, she couldn't deny that he had been nothing but kind and welcoming towards her.

"Yeah, he's actually really nice," she admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He's passionate about his work and is genuine. It's... refreshing."

Wooyoung's smile widened at her response, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Well, then I guess it's not so bad after all," he said, his tone teasing. "Just remember to keep your head on straight, okay? Don't let those puppy dog eyes distract you from the task at hand."

Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes at her friend's playful jab. "I'll do my best," she promised, feeling a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support.

The pair continued to enjoy their evening together, the gentle hum of conversation and laughter filling the air, Y/N's phone chimed with the arrival of a new email. Curious, she glanced down at the screen, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the sender's name: Kim Hongjoong.

With a sense of anticipation, Y/N opened the email, her eyes scanning the contents with eager interest. As she read Kim Hongjoong's words, a wave of disappointment washed over her.

"He won't be available for a one-on-one session for the rest of the week," she explained to Wooyoung, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. 

Wooyoung frowned in sympathy. "That sucks," he said, leaning back against the couch. "But hey, at least you’ve got plenty of material already, right? And it might give you some time to reflect on everything you’ve gathered so far."

Y/N nodded slowly, setting her phone aside. "You're right. I've been so focused on getting more that I haven’t really taken the time to process everything I’ve learned."

Wooyoung grinned, nudging her playfully. "See? It’s all about perspective. Plus, now you can actually take a breather and maybe do something fun for a change."

She laughed, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. "Like what? You know my idea of fun is curling up with a good book or binge-watching a series."

"Which is exactly what you need," Wooyoung replied, his eyes twinkling. "A little escapism never hurt anyone. How about we start with a movie night? Something completely unrelated to work."

"Alright, alright," Y/N conceded, smiling at his enthusiasm. "But you get to pick the movie, my brain feels like mush."

"Deal!" he said, jumping up to rummage through her collection of DVDs and streaming services. As he did, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of appreciation for her friend’s efforts to lift her spirits.

As the opening credits rolled on a lighthearted comedy, Y/N settled back into the couch, her thoughts drifting briefly back to Hongjoong. Despite the disappointment of not getting more time with him this week, she realized that Wooyoung was right. This break might be exactly what she needed to regain her focus and ensure that her story about Hongjoong was as well-rounded and insightful as possible.

Halfway through the movie, Y/N found herself laughing freely at the antics on screen, the worries and stress of the past week melting away. She glanced over at Wooyoung, who was equally engrossed in the film, and felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support and friendship.

As the credits rolled and the movie came to an end, Wooyoung turned to her with a satisfied grin. "Feeling better?"

"Much," Y/N admitted, her smile genuine. "Thanks for this, Woo. I really needed it."

"Anytime," he replied, giving her a quick side hug. "Now, let’s plan something fun for tomorrow. Maybe a little adventure around the city or trying out that new café downtown?"

Y/N’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. "That sounds perfect."

Y/N sat at her desk, the soft hum of the office around her providing a comforting backdrop as she put the finishing touches on her article. The past few days had been a whirlwind, but the final one-on-one interview with Kim Hongjoong had been worth the wait. It had given her the deeper insights she needed to tie everything together.

She glanced at the clock, noting that she still had a few hours before her deadline. Taking a deep breath, she reread her article from the beginning, ensuring that every detail was perfect. Y/N leaned back in her chair, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. She had captured the essence of Kim Hongjoong, not just as a designer, but as a person. His passion, dedication, and kindness were all there, woven into the fabric of her article.

Satisfied with her work, she saved the document and sent it off to her editor. As she did, a wave of relief and pride filled her. She had done justice to Hongjoong's story, and she knew it would resonate with readers.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a message. It was from Wooyoung: "How's the article going? Ready to celebrate?"

Y/N smiled, typing back a quick response. "Just submitted it! Let's definitely celebrate."

Closing her laptop, Y/N felt a sense of closure and excitement for what lay ahead. She had grown both professionally and personally from this experience, and she was eager to see how her article would be received. 

The elevator ride down felt different today. There was a lightness in her step, a sense of fulfillment that accompanied the completion of a job well done. Stepping out into the warm evening, she saw Wooyoung waiting for her by the entrance, his familiar grin spreading across his face as he waved.

"Hey there, star reporter," he called out, pulling her into a hug. "How does it feel to have finished your masterpiece?"

Y/N laughed, the tension of the past days melting away in her friend's embrace. "It feels incredible. I can't wait for you to read it."

Wooyoung gave her a playful nudge as they began walking down the street towards their favorite café. "I'm sure it's amazing. I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

They settled into a cozy corner of the café, the rich aroma of coffee and the soft chatter of other patrons creating a comforting atmosphere. Wooyoung ordered their usual drinks, and soon they were clinking glasses in a celebratory toast.

"To hard work, passion, and a job well done," Wooyoung said, his eyes twinkling with pride. Y/N raised her glass with him with a grateful smile.

As they sipped their drinks, Y/N filled Wooyoung in on the highlights of her final interview with Hongjoong. She recounted the moments that had left the deepest impression on her—the candid discussions about his creative process, his reflections on the challenges he faced, and his unwavering commitment to his art and his fans.

"You know," Y/N said thoughtfully, "this experience has really made me appreciate the power of storytelling. Hongjoong's journey is so inspiring, and I feel honored to have had the chance to share it."

Wooyoung nodded, his expression serious. "And you're amazing at it, Y/N. You have a gift for capturing the heart of a story. I'm proud of you."

Her phone buzzed again, interrupting the moment. It was a notification from her editor. Curious, she opened the message, her eyes scanning the text quickly. A smile spread across her face as she read the words of praise and approval.

"Well, it looks like the editor loves it," she announced, her excitement bubbling over. "They're going to feature it in the next issue!"

Wooyoung cheered, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons who smiled at their infectious enthusiasm. "That's fantastic news! You deserve it, Y/N."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, conversation, and celebration. As they walked back home under the starry sky, Y/N felt a profound sense of contentment. She had achieved something meaningful, and she had done it with the support of her best friend.

It was a Wednesday morning, almost a week and a half after her article had been published. Today was supposed. to be her day off, her one day to sleep through the morning. Unfortunately, life had other plans for her. With a loud ring, Y/N groggily reached for her phone, her mind still hazy with sleep. She fumbled to answer it, her eyes squinting against the early morning light filtering through the curtains.

"Hello?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good Morning Miss L/N," came the crisp voice on the other end. Instantly, she sat up, her heart pounding. She hadn't checked the caller ID and now realized it was her editor calling her this early for a reason.

"Good morning, sir," she replied, trying to sound more awake. "Is everything okay?"

"Better than okay," her boss responded, his tone filled with excitement. "Your article on Kim Hongjoong has been a massive success. The response from our readers has been overwhelmingly positive. You've done a fantastic job."

Relief and pride surged through Y/N, but before she could fully process the news, her boss continued.

"Listen, Fashion Week is starting in a few days, and we want to capitalize on this momentum. I want you to cover the event. You'll have full access to shows, backstage, everything. Think you can handle it?"

Y/N's mind raced. Fashion Week was a huge opportunity, a chance to solidify her reputation as a top-tier journalist. Despite the early hour and the whirlwind of thoughts in her head, she felt a surge of excitement.

"Absolutely, sir," she said, her voice firm with determination. "I won't let you down."

"Good to hear," her boss replied. "We'll send you all the details and your press credentials later today. And hey, Kim Hongjoong will be there so be sure to get some stuff on his collection. Get some rest; you're going to need it."

As she hung up, Y/N sat in bed, the news sinking in. Fashion Week. It was an event she had never dreamt of covering, but now it was happening. She quickly called the one person who could help her think this through. 

"Girl, I didn't think I would hear from you until 1pm. I thought you were off today?" Wooyoungs voice echoed through the phone speaker. 

"Just shut up and listen ok. My boss called me and guess what? My article on Hongjoong was a hit! And now I get to cover Fashion Week!" she paused, awaiting her friends reaction. 

A reply came almost instantly. "Holy shit, that's amazing, Y/N! Please tell me you get to bring a plus one. I would kill to be there."

"Unfortunately not, but, I don't know if I can do this Woo. I still know almost nothing on fashion, and now I'm covering one of the biggest fashion events of the year." She got out of bed, her mind already buzzing with ideas for her coverage. 

"What do you mean? You did the story with Hongjoong and look how that turned out." Y/N made her way to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. 

"That was different, that was about a person who just so happened to be in the industry. This will be about the industry itself." She heard Wooyoung hum in thought, her mind already racing to her natural pessimistic thoughts. 

"Wait, that's it. Hongjoong, he's your key." Y/N furrowed her brows. 

"What do you mean?"

"You already have a connection, Hongjoong. Ask him for advice, you're not doing on article on him exclusively anymore so it wouldn't be inappropriate to reach out randomly."  Y/N's hand paused over the coffee pot, Wooyoung's words echoing in her mind. Of course, Hongjoong. She had built a rapport with him, and his insight could be invaluable for covering Fashion Week.

"You think he'd be willing to help?" she asked, doubt creeping into her voice.

"Absolutely," Wooyoung said with confidence. "He seemed to like you and appreciate your work. Just reach out to him, and I'm sure he'll offer some guidance. Besides, you made him look good with that article."

A small smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "You're right. I'll email him today and see if he has some time to chat before Fashion Week starts."

"Perfect! And remember, you’ve got this. You're more prepared than you think," Wooyoung said encouragingly.

"Thanks, Woo. I really needed that pep talk," Y/N replied, feeling a surge of determination.

"Anytime. Now go conquer the fashion world!"

After hanging up, Y/N sat at her kitchen table, her coffee steaming beside her. She opened her laptop and began composing an email to Hongjoong.

Hi Mr. Kim, I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to thank you once again for your time during our interviews – the article was a great success, and I owe a lot of that to your openness and insights. I have some exciting news: I'll be covering Fashion Week for my publication. Since this is my first time covering such a major event, I was wondering if you might have some time to chat and offer any advice or insights. Your perspective on the industry would be incredibly valuable as I prepare for this assignment. Looking forward to hearing from you soon. Best, Y/N

Satisfied with the message, she hit send and leaned back, sipping her coffee. The nerves were still there, but so was a sense of excitement and readiness. This was a huge opportunity, and she was determined to make the most of it.

Later that day, as she was organizing her notes and planning her coverage, her phone pinged with a new email notification.

Hi Y/N, Great to hear from you! I'm glad the article was well-received. I'd be happy to help you out with Fashion Week. How about we meet for coffee one morning? Maybe when you arrive in Paris? I have some time free before my final prep for the event. Looking forward to catching up. Best, Hongjoong

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She quickly replied, confirming the time and place.

The morning came to meet Hongjoon. Y/N arrived at the coffee shop a little early, her notebook and pen ready. She felt a mix of excitement and nerves as she waited. When Hongjoong walked in, looking effortlessly stylish, she stood to greet him with a smile.

"Y/N, good to see you," he said warmly, taking a seat across from her.

"Thank you so much for meeting with me," she began. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," Hongjoong replied. "So, tell me, what do you want to know about Fashion Week?"

As they chatted over coffee, Hongjoong shared his experiences, offering tips on what to focus on, key people to watch, and the latest trends. His insights were invaluable, and Y/N felt her confidence growing with each passing minute.

"Remember," Hongjoong said as they wrapped up, "Fashion Week is about more than just the clothes. It's about the people, the creativity, the stories behind the designs. Capture that, and you'll do great."

Y/N left the coffee shop feeling inspired and ready to tackle Fashion Week. With Hongjoong's advice in mind and her own determination, she knew she could bring something special to her coverage. This was her moment, and she was ready to shine.

The first day of Fashion Week arrived, and Y/N stood at the entrance of the grand venue, press credentials hanging around her neck. The energy in the air was electric, with designers, models, and fashion enthusiasts bustling around in a blur of colors and fabrics. She took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Her first assignment was to cover the opening show, featuring several up-and-coming designers. She made her way to the press area, setting up her notebook and camera. As she scanned the crowd, she spotted Hongjoong speaking with a group of industry insiders. He caught her eye and gave her a reassuring nod, which bolstered her confidence.

The lights dimmed, and the show began. Models strutted down the runway in stunning creations, each piece telling a unique story. Y/N took meticulous notes, capturing the essence of each collection and the reactions of the audience. She remembered Hongjoong's advice: focus on the stories behind the designs.

After the show, she navigated through the sea of people, seeking out designers for quick interviews. She managed to speak with a few, their excitement and passion evident in their words. Their stories added depth to her coverage, providing insights that would resonate with her readers.

Later in the day, Y/N attended a panel discussion on sustainable fashion. The panelists, including prominent designers and industry experts, discussed the future of fashion and the importance of sustainability. Y/N found their perspectives enlightening and jotted down key points for her article.

During a brief break, Y/N sat in the press lounge, sipping on a bottle of water. She reviewed her notes, feeling a sense of accomplishment. The day had been intense, but she had managed to gather a wealth of information and insights.

Just as she was about to head to the next event, her phone buzzed with a new message. It was from her editor: "Great job so far! Your updates have been fantastic. Keep up the good work."

Smiling, Y/N replied with a quick thank you and made her way to the evening's highlight: Kim Hongjoong's collection showcase. The anticipation was palpable as she entered the venue, the air buzzing with excitement.

The lights dimmed, and the first model stepped onto the runway, wearing one of Hongjoong's creations. The audience watched in awe as each piece was revealed, a testament to Hongjoong's creativity and skill. Y/N could see the dedication and passion that Hongjoong had spoken about during their interviews.

After the show, Y/N managed to catch Hongjoong for a quick word. "That was incredible," she said, genuinely impressed.

"Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your support," Hongjoong replied with a warm smile. "How's your coverage going?"

"Really well," she said. "Thanks to your advice, I feel like I'm capturing the essence of the event."

"That's great to hear." As Hongjoong chuckled, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the genuine warmth of his smile. There was an effortless charm about him, a confidence in the way he carried himself that drew people in. It suddenly struck her just how attractive he was, not just in appearance but in his demeanor and presence.

"I have to say," Y/N began, trying to keep her thoughts professional, "your collection really captured the audience. The details and craftsmanship were exceptional."

Hongjoong's smile widened, and he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Coming from you, that means a lot. I’ve read your articles; you have a way of bringing stories to life."

Y/N felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "Thank you. That really means a lot."

There was a moment of silence between them, filled with the buzzing energy of the crowd around them. Y/N took the opportunity to observe Hongjoong more closely. His eyes were focused, yet kind, and there was an intensity to him that was incredibly appealing. She found herself drawn to the passion that seemed to radiate from him, not just for his work, but in everything he did.

"I should let you get back to your evening," Y/N said, snapping herself out of her thoughts. "I’m sure you have a lot of people to talk to."

"Actually," Hongjoong said, glancing around, "I’ve spoken to most of them already. How about we grab a quick meal? I’d love to hear more about your thoughts on the show."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "That sounds great," she replied, trying to keep her excitement in check. "Let me just grab my things."

As they made their way to a nearby restaurant, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and excitement bubbling within her. She found herself stealing glances at Hongjoong, noticing the way he held himself with a quiet confidence, yet remained approachable and genuine.

Over dinner, their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from their shared love for art and music to their aspirations and dreams. Y/N discovered that Hongjoong had a passion for storytelling, not just through his designs but also through his experiences and the way he interacted with the world around him.

With each passing moment, Y/N found herself drawn deeper into Hongjoong's world, captivated by his insights and the depth of his character. She admired his humility and the way he spoke with such sincerity about his craft and the people who inspired him.

As they laughed and shared stories, Y/N realized just how much she enjoyed being in Hongjoong's presence. There was a sense of comfort and familiarity between them, as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few days.

As the evening drew to a close, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. She didn't want the night to end, didn't want to say goodbye to this newfound connection that felt so right.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Hongjoong turned to her with a smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you for tonight, Y/N. I had a great time."

Y/N smiled back, her heart fluttering with anticipation. "Me too, Mr. Kim. It was... really special."

She heard Hongjoong click his tongue and playfully glare at her. "You don't work for me you know." He let out a small laugh. Y/N stared at him in question. 

"What do you mean." Hongjoong's smile softened, and he shook his head gently. "I mean, you don't have to call me 'Mr. Kim' all the time. Just call me Hongjoong."

Y/N felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. "Oh, right. Sorry, force of habit, I guess."

"No need to apologize," Hongjoong said, his tone gentle. "I just want you to feel comfortable around me."

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate that."

They stood there for a moment, the cool night air wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness with Hongjoong, a connection that went beyond their professional interactions.

As they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them, something deeper and more meaningful than just a casual acquaintance.

As she made her way home, Y/N couldn't help but replay their conversation in her mind, savoring the warmth of Hongjoong's smile and the genuine kindness in his eyes. She couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in her chest as she wondered what the future held for them. But one thing was for sure – she was eager to find out.

The sunlight streamed through the windows as Y/N bustled around the apartment she'd been staying at, preparing for the evening ahead. She was buzzing with excitement, and having Wooyoung on facetime only added to the anticipation. Y/N sat on the couch with her laptop, surrounded by a cozy atmosphere of dimmed lights and soft music playing in the background. It was a much-needed moment of relaxation after the excitement of the previous night.

"So, spill the tea," Wooyoung said, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. "How was your night with Mr. Kim?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It was... interesting," she replied, choosing her words carefully.

"Interesting, huh?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Do tell."

Y/N recounted the events of the evening, from Hongjoong's invitation to grab a meal to the lively conversation they had shared. She described the way Hongjoong's passion for his work shone through in every word he spoke, and the genuine connection she felt with him.

"It was just... nice," Y/N concluded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "He's a really great guy, you know?"

Wooyoung nodded thoughtfully, a knowing smile on his face. "I'm glad to hear that. And hey, maybe this could be the start of something more, huh?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the thought, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling inside her. "I don't think so," she admitted. Wooyoung loudly tapped his screen, gaining her attention. "Hey, I was joking. Look, whatever happens, I'm here for you, okay? Just like I've always been."

Y/N couldn't help but smile at her friend's words, feeling grateful for his unwavering support. Suddenly, her phone started ringing. 

"Who is it? Oh, is it Soomi? We haven't heard from her in a while?" Wooyoung asks as Y/N reaches for her phone. 

"No, it's an unknown number." Y/N contemplates hitting decline, but something tells her to answer the call. 

"Hi, this is Y/N L/N speaking." A familiar laugh could be heard on the other line. 

"Wow, so you're just professional in all areas of life huh?" Y/N nearly drops her phone from the realization. She dramatically turns to face Wooyoung on her computer screen, who immediately takes notices and mouths 'who is it?' 

"Hongjoong, Hi! What uh...What's up?" Wooyoung quickly leaps from his couch to stand, shocked by the revelation. 

Hongjoong's laughter echoed through the phone, warm and familiar. "Not much, just wanted to see how you're doing after last night."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at the memory of their evening together. "Yeah, I had a really nice time," she admitted, trying to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"Good to hear," Hongjoong replied. "I know these events can be a lot, especially for first timers. Trust me, my first one I was about to have a panic attack." Y/N heart dropped to her stomach. 

"Right-" she fake laughs. "Yeah, the fashion show. That...yeah it, it was fine." 

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "Well, if you ever need someone to help navigate the chaos, you know where to find me. Speaking of which, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner tonight? There's this new restaurant I've been wanting to try, and I thought it would be fun to go together."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the invitation, her mind racing with excitement and nerves. She glanced at Wooyoung, who was practically bouncing with anticipation.

"I...I'd love to," Y/N said, trying to contain her excitement. "Thank you for asking."

Hongjoong's smile was audible through the phone. "Great! I'll text you the details. Looking forward to it, Y/N."

As the call ended, Y/N couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. Wooyoung practically squealed with excitement, grabbing Y/N's hands and jumping up and down in excitement.

"This is it, Y/N! This is your fashion love story unfolding right before our eyes!" Wooyoung exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.

Y/N laughed, feeling a surge of excitement and gratitude for her supportive friend. "I guess it is," she said, her heart brimming with anticipation for what the evening would bring.

As Y/N stepped out of the bustling restaurant, she was greeted by the sight of Hongjoong waiting for her, a genuine smile lighting up his face. The vibrant lights of the street cast a soft glow around them, adding to the enchanting atmosphere.

"Hey, I wanted to say this earlier but uh-" Hongjoong said, his voice warm and inviting. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his compliment, a shy smile gracing her lips. "Thank you, Hongjoong," she replied, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. "You look pretty amazing yourself."

Hongjoong chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Thanks, but I think you might be biased."

They fell into step beside each other as they walked away from the venue, the energy of the night still buzzing around them. Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Hongjoong, admiring the way he carried himself with grace.

As they chatted about the show and their shared experiences, Y/N found herself drawn to Hongjoong's presence more and more. There was something about him that felt familiar yet exhilarating, like finding a piece of herself she never knew was missing.

By the time they reached Y/N's car, she was reluctant to say goodbye. Hongjoong's kindness and charm had left a lasting impression on her, igniting a spark of curiosity and admiration.

"Thank you for tonight, Hongjoong," Y/N said, her voice soft with sincerity. "I had a really wonderful time."

Hongjoong smiled warmly, his gaze lingering on her. "The pleasure was all mine, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I hope we can do this again sometime." Y/N showed him a soft smile before turning to her car, ready to open the door before Hongjoong gently moved her shoulder so they could face each other. 

"Do you work tomorrow? For the article I mean?" Y/N turned back to face Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, I think they're having someone else cover the next two days so I don't get overwhelmed. Why?"

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the show. All of my designs have been showcased, but I would like to see every one else's. I know fashion isn't your forte but, maybe.....I could change your mind about it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Hongjoong's invitation. The idea of spending more time with him, exploring something new together, filled her with excitement.

"I'd love to," she replied, a smile spreading across her face. "It would be a great opportunity to learn more about the industry, especially with such a knowledgeable guide."

Hongjoong's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Great! I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, then. We can grab a bite to eat before heading to the show."

As they exchanged goodbyes once more, Y/N felt a rush of anticipation. She couldn't wait to see what the day would bring, eager to spend more time with Hongjoong. Once in her car, she immediately calls Wooyoung, knowing he'll freak out with her. 

"Damn, you guys were out late. So, when's the wedding?" Y/N chuckled at Wooyoung's playful jab. "Very funny. But seriously, you won't believe what happened."

"Oh, spill it already!" Wooyoung's excitement was palpable through the phone.

"Hongjoong asked me to accompany him to another fashion show tomorrow!" Y/N exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

"No way! That's huge!" Wooyoung replied, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "Looks like you're really making an impression on him."

Y/N felt a rush of happiness at her friend's words. "Yeah, it's been... really amazing."

"I'm happy for you, Y/N. This could be the start of something big," Wooyoung said, his tone sincere.

"Thanks, Woo. I'll keep you posted on how it goes tomorrow," Y/N promised, feeling grateful for her friend's unwavering support.

"Can't wait to hear all about it. Now, go get some rest. You've got a big day ahead of you!"

With a smile on her face, Y/N ended the call, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for what the next day would bring.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What the hell am I going to wear. Y/N assumed at this point she had pulled everything out of her closet. Sure, she had planned outfits for attending fashion week, however what she didn't plan was for Kim freaking Hongjoong to ask her to attend with him. Maybe she could just wear what she had originally planned, but would that be enough?

Y/N paced back and forth in her bedroom, her mind racing with a million thoughts. She had spent hours going through her wardrobe, trying on different outfits in a desperate attempt to find the perfect one for the fashion show with Hongjoong. But nothing seemed to feel right.

"Okay, calm down, Y/N," she muttered to herself, trying to quell the rising panic. "You've got this."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N forced herself to sit down on the edge of her bed, her eyes scanning the array of clothes strewn across the room. Suddenly, her gaze landed on a simple yet elegant dress hanging in the corner of her closet.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was too understated for such a glamorous event. But then she remembered Hongjoong's warm smile and kind eyes, and she knew that it wasn't about the dress – it was about being herself.

With newfound determination, Y/N reached for the dress and slipped it on, feeling a sense of confidence wash over her. It may not have been the most extravagant outfit, but it felt right, like a reflection of who she truly was.

As she admired her reflection in the mirror, Y/N couldn't help but smile. Just then, she received a text message. 

Joong Just curious, what's your favorite color? 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she read the message from Hongjoong. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she typed out her response.

Y/N Green, definitely Green. What about you?

She pressed send, her pulse quickening with anticipation. This simple exchange felt like the beginning of something new, something exciting. And as she waited for Hongjoong's reply, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling inside her.

Joong Probably red, or yellow. I kind of go back and forth. 

Y/N couldn't help but smile at Hongjoong's response. It was endearing to learn a bit more about his preferences, and she found herself feeling even more drawn to him.

Y/N Red and yellow, huh? That's interesting. They're both such vibrant colors.

She hit send, her mind already racing with thoughts of their upcoming day together at the fashion show. This unexpected connection with Hongjoong was sparking something inside her, something she couldn't quite put into words. But one thing was for sure – she was excited to see where it would lead. Her mind wandered to the moments they had shared so far. From their conversations to their time spent together, she couldn't deny the growing connection between them. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time, and it both excited and scared her.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a message from Hongjoong.

Joong Yeah, they are. They have their own energy, you know? So, are you ready for today? I should be leaving in about 2 hours to head your way.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she read Hongjoong's message. The anticipation of spending the day with him at the fashion show sent a thrill through her. She quickly composed her response, her fingers dancing over the screen.

Y/N I'm definitely ready! Can't wait to see all the amazing designs and spend the day with you. Let me know when you're on your way, and I'll be ready.

With a satisfied smile, Y/N hit send, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. Today was going to be something special, and she couldn't wait to see where it would take them.

.....shit, she still needed to get ready.

Y/N's heart fluttered with excitement as she heard a knock on her door, signaling Hongjoong's arrival. With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure she looked presentable, she hurried to answer it.

Opening the door, she was met with the sight of Hongjoong standing there, looking effortlessly stylish as always. His warm smile greeted her, sending a wave of warmth through her.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice soft yet filled with energy. "Ready to go?"

Y/N returned his smile, feeling a surge of excitement as she stepped out to join him. "Definitely," she replied, her voice tinged with anticipation. "Let's do this." Hongjoong stepped out of the way so Y/N could lock her door and they both started heading towards the car. It was a simple black car, not anything extravagant like she had anticipated. Hongjoong reached to open the passenger door, and before she got in, she noticed the bouquet of flowers sitting on the seat. 

"Oh my gosh." She reached down to pick them up, they were beautiful white roses with a light green tissue paper wrapped around the stems. Along with the wrapped tissue, a green ribbon was tied around them as well. 

"Hongjoong, you shouldn't have." Hongjoong chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he watched Y/N admire the bouquet. "I wanted to do something special," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Consider it a small token of appreciation for your company today."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with color at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," she replied, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "They're beautiful."

As she carefully arranged the bouquet in her lap, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and affection towards Hongjoong. It was moments like these that made her realize just how much she enjoyed his company.

With a smile, she settled into the passenger seat, the scent of the flowers filling the air around her. As Hongjoong started the car and they began their journey to the fashion show, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that this day was going to be something truly special.

As they drove through the bustling streets, Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Hongjoong, admiring the way he effortlessly navigated through the traffic with ease. His focused expression spoke volumes about his determination and drive, qualities that she found incredibly admirable.

"So, what are you most excited to see at the show today?" Y/N asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

She saw Hongjoong think for a moment, his mind drifting to the array of designers and collections they were about to witness. "Honestly, I'm excited to see the diversity and creativity on display," he replied, his voice tinged with anticipation. "Fashion has this incredible ability to tell stories and evoke emotions."

Y/N nodded in agreement, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I couldn't agree more," she said. "Each designer brings their own unique perspective and vision to the table, and it's always fascinating to see how it all comes together on the runway."

Hongjoong smiled, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Exactly. It's like witnessing art in motion."

As they continued their conversation, Y/N felt a sense of comfort wash over her. There was something about being with Hongjoong that felt easy and natural, like they had known each other for much longer than they actually had.

Before long, they arrived at the venue, greeted by the bustling energy of the fashion show. Y/N's excitement grew with each step they took towards the entrance, eager to immerse herself in the world of haute couture. She watched as paparazzi crowded the front entrance, only now realizing she would be captured with him. A sudden fear overcame her, she quickly reached for Hongjoong's hand after he turned off the car. 

"Wait-" Hongjoong looked at her, putting his hand back down from where it was on the car doors handle. "Everything ok?" 

"When we step out, you're going to be bombarded with questions. Especially with me right next to you." Hongjoong could see the anxiety filling her features, a soft smile played on his lips. "Y/N..." 

"You know what, why don't you go ahead. I'll just park the car somewhere in the garage and meet you inside, ok? Ok, sounds great." 

"Y/N, " Hongjoong removed her hand from his and gently held her face. "listen to me." Hongjoong's touch was gentle yet firm, his gaze unwavering as he met Y/N's eyes. "You don't have to worry about a thing," he said, his voice filled with reassurance. "I'll be right by your side every step of the way."

"I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you. Your image." Hongjoong's expression softened at Y/N's words, a small smile playing on his lips. "My image?" he echoed, his tone curious.

Y/N nodded, her eyes searching his. "You're a public figure, Hongjoong. You have a reputation to uphold, and being seen with someone like me might not be the best thing for you."

Hongjoong's smile grew, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Y/N, you're not just 'someone like me'," he said, his voice earnest. "You're someone I genuinely enjoy spending time with, someone who I feel brings out the best in me."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. "But-"

Hongjoong gently placed a finger against her lips, silencing her. "No buts," he said, his gaze unwavering. "I make my own choices, and being with you is one of them. So trust me when I say, my image is just fine."

Y/N felt a wave of gratitude wash over her, touched by Hongjoong's unwavering support. With a smile, she leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. "Thank you, Hongjoong," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

He returned her smile, his eyes soft with affection. "Anytime, Y/N. Now let's go show them what we're made of."

Hand in hand, they stepped into the world of fashion, ready to face whatever challenges came their way, together. As Hongjoong and Y/N stepped out of the car and made their way towards the entrance of the venue, they were immediately met with a flurry of flashing cameras and eager reporters.

"Hongjoong, who's the lucky lady you've brought with you tonight?" one of the reporters called out, his voice loud and persistent.

Y/N felt a surge of anxiety at the attention, but Hongjoong remained calm, his grip on her hand steady and reassuring. He turned to face the reporter with a smile, his demeanor composed yet friendly.

"This is Y/N, a dear friend," he replied, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. "She's here to experience the magic of fashion with me."

The reporters continued to fire questions at them, but Hongjoong skillfully deflected each one with ease, never once faltering under the pressure. Y/N couldn't help but admire his poise and grace in the face of such scrutiny.

As they finally made their way inside the venue, the chaos of the paparazzi faded into the background, replaced by the excitement and anticipation of the fashion show. Y/N glanced up at Hongjoong, gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Thank you for handling that," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Hongjoong smiled warmly, squeezing her hand gently. "Anytime. We're in this together."

With renewed confidence, they entered the venue, ready to enjoy the show and make memories together, no matter what challenges they might face along the way. Throughout the event, Hongjoong and Y/N stuck close together, weaving through the crowd as they admired the various displays and interacted with fellow attendees. Despite the occasional interruption from well-wishers and admirers, they remained focused on each other, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

Y/N couldn't help but be drawn to Hongjoong's passion for fashion, his eyes lighting up as he discussed the intricate details of each design and the creative vision behind them. His enthusiasm was contagious, and she found herself becoming more and more engrossed in the world of haute couture.

Throughout the event, Hongjoong's presence was a constant source of comfort and support for Y/N, his reassuring smile and encouraging words helping to calm her nerves and boost her confidence. Whether they were chatting with other guests, admiring the latest collections, or simply enjoying each other's company, their interactions were filled with warmth, laughter, and a growing sense of camaraderie.

As the night drew to a close and the last echoes of applause faded away, Hongjoong and Y/N found themselves outside the venue once more, the vibrant energy of the fashion show still lingering in the air around them.

With a contented sigh, Y/N turned to Hongjoong, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Thank you for inviting me to the show," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I had an incredible time."

Hongjoong returned her smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "The pleasure was all mine," he replied, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "I'm glad you could join me. It wouldn't have been the same without you."

As they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights, a sense of peace settled over them, their shared experiences and moments of connection weaving a bond between them that felt both comforting and exhilarating.

A few months later, the chill of autumn had settled over the city, bringing with it the vibrant colors of changing leaves and the crisp, invigorating air that heralded the approach of winter. Y/N found herself standing outside a cozy café, feeling a mixture of annoyance and impatience. She tapped her foot, glancing at her watch repeatedly as the minutes ticked by. Finally, with a sigh of frustration, she decided she had waited long enough. She turned on her heel and left the café, heading across the street.

Y/N walked with purpose, the path she took now ingrained in her memory from frequent visits over the past few months. After crossing the street and walking a few blocks, she took a left and entered one of the many tall buildings that adorned the strip. The lobby was bustling with activity, but Y/N moved through it with the confidence of someone who belonged.

Removing her sunglasses as she approached the elevators, she was momentarily stopped by Jisoo, a new employee at the building's reception desk. "Excuse me, Ma'am, you need to check.....oh," Jisoo's eyes widened with recognition. "My apologies, Miss L/N."

Y/N gave a curt nod and continued her route to the elevators. Once inside, she pressed the button for the floor she needed and leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

When the elevator doors opened, Y/N stepped out and walked down the hallway until she reached the familiar office door. Without hesitation, she knocked and waited for the response from within.

"Come in," called the voice from the other side.

Y/N entered the office, her eyes immediately finding Hongjoong behind his desk. He was currently on a call, his empty hand fiddling with a pen absentmindedly. When he looked up, a smile spreading across his face as he saw her. "Look why don't we discuss this later, I have an important client that just walked in..........Ok great, yeah just send me an email about it when you can." Hongjoong quickly hung up and walked towards her. 

"Hey sweetheart," He leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she moved her face to dodge it. Hongjoong paused, noticing the tension in Y/N's expression. "What's wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Y/N crossed her arms, trying to keep her irritation in check. "You were supposed to meet me at the café. I waited for over half an hour."

Hongjoong's face softened with guilt. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I got caught up in a meeting and completely lost track of time."

She sighed, her frustration still simmering. "It's not just today, Hongjoong. You've been so busy lately that I feel like I'm always waiting around for you."

Hongjoong reached out gently taking her hand, laying a kiss to the back of them. "I know, and I promise I'm not trying to neglect you. Work has just been overwhelming, but that's no excuse. I'll do better, I swear."

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Her irritation began to ebb away, replaced by a mix of relief and lingering disappointment. "I just want to feel like a priority sometimes."

Hongjoong nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "You are a priority to me, Y/N. I'll make sure you know that from now on. How about we go out for lunch? Just the two of us. No interruptions. No Mr. Kim no Ms. Journalist, just Y/N and Hongjoong."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But you have to promise that work won't come first all the time."

"I promise," Hongjoong said firmly. "Now, let's go. I've been craving that little Italian place you like."

They left the office together, walking side by side as they made their way out of the building. The crisp autumn air greeted them, and Y/N felt some of the tension in her chest ease as they stepped into the street.

As they walked, Hongjoong slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I really am sorry," he murmured. "I'll make it up to you."

Y/N leaned into him, appreciating the gesture. "I'll hold you to that," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

next story coming soon......

Thank you guys for enjoying the series, it means a lot to see so many people like the posts. If you want to join the taglist, please let me know.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @bts-army380 @ssrnghwa @philijack @laurenwidjaja

[suckishima]

rrrrrrrrr im so frustrated with my writing. its just been weeks of struggle and whyyyy. idk i think i need to rework or rethink what im going for with this one or something, its like i can feel the threads of the themes i wanna do are sooo close to tying together but it just isnt quite reaching yet and so it reads like a stilted bland mess but the more i stare at it the further away it feels aaah

i know it can get there i kNOW it can, the ending and like aha moment is so cleaaaar that i think its almost too solid and thats why my beginning feels so fucked—like i just keep asking myself 'well if hes gonna get there in chapter 5, whats stopping him from getting there now in chapter 2??' i tHOUGHT i had reasons but now that im there i just keep instinctually writing him to have the connecting/realization moment anyway and like. if that's how it is then what even IS the story??? i need a break

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (1) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: My first Rafe fic :)

word count: 4.4k

In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 

As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 

He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 

After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 

There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 

The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”

Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 

Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 

“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 

The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 

He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 

An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 

“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”

Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 

The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.

“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 

“Mr. Cameron-”

“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 

As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 

Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 

He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 

You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 

He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 

You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 

His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 

As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”

“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”

Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”

“And why’s that?”  

“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.

“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 

“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”

“Your guys run their mouths.”

“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”

Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”

Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”

Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 

You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 

Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 

Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 

You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 

You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 

“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”

Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 

You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”

When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 

Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 

“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”

You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”

He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”

You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 

“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”

You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 

You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”

Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 

“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 

Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 

His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”

“This whole room is just for me?”

“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”

You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”

You nodded. 

“Tell me.”

“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 

“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”

You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”

“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”

“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”

“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”

“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”

“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”

This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”

He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”

Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 

Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”

“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 

“I thought you wanted me …”

“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”

You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”

Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”

“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, Bambi.”

Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 

Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 

That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”

“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”

“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”

“Your father, was he like Master?”

“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”

You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”

“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 

“You’ll punish me?”

Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 

He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 

Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 

“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”

Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”

“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”

“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”

Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 

He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.

“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 

Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 

“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 

He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 

He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 

“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

Part 2

[mochatsin]

When MC Gets Pushed Off the Stairs

You can be the kindest person or the biggest brat this exchange program has ever seen, but it won’t erase the fact that you have enemies. Some demons just can’t stand the idea of a human earning the favor of the seven avatars… and there are others that plan on doing something about it.

TW: implied bullying, falling down the stairs, sprained ankle + MC in a cast, violence, demon brothers being a bit more sinister.

I was in the mood for a bunch of dark and spiteful demons. I might make a separate part of them taking care of MC during the times they have a cast.

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“Who do they think they are? They probably feel invincible when they have those brothers stuck to their hip.” 

You tried ignoring the rumors and whispers, you knew it wasn’t true so there wasn't any reason for you to bring this up with anyone. Though there were a bunch of demons, specifically these two girls, that are quite irritating. They definitely knew you could hear them, but that doesn’t mean they’ll lower their voices whenever they start talking about you. Seeing your discomfort is what even encourages them to keep talking, and you’re walking down the stairs to your next class so you can avoid them because there’s no way you’re gonna give them that satisfaction of seeing how bothered you are. 

“Invincible? As if! They’re just a human.” The other mocks, looking at you with disgust.

“Let’s find out.” Is the last thing you hear before you feel someone’s heel push your back, making you lose your balance and fall over. It was a blur after that, until he came by…

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Lucifer

Students are crowding the stairwell, and Lucifer can feel the annoyance already blooming. A crowd like this usually means trouble, and he wonders if Mammon is trying to place bets in secret again. It won’t be the first time he catches his brother discreetly collecting gambling money after convincing other students to bet on something stupid, so Lucifer isn’t going to be surprised if his initial thought was right as he pushes through to see the commotion. 

That’s when Lucifer desperately wished he was right as soon as he saw you on the ground. Two demons on top of the stairs laughed and mocked you, but the moment Lucifer stepped in the scene they immediately shut their mouths out of fear and so did the crowd of students around you. He can piece the scene together and understand what happened, but he needs to hear from you first. 

He kneels down to your level to check up on you. You’re not unconscious and that’s great, though you seemed pretty shaken up. Falling down the stairs and having several students stare at you wasn’t pleasant after all. “Come, let’s discuss what happened in the student council room.” Lucifer offers, since the last thing you need is to be the center of attention and he knows it won’t be a good idea to let you stay here longer.

He helps you stand, but you stumble and cling onto him for support. Your foot… it hurts so much that putting pressure on it sent jolts of burning pain that almost made you scream. You’re trying to be strong despite the pain, you can’t show weakness in front of Lucifer who’s relying on you to represent humans. What kind of image are you showing them? That you’re fragile and weak? It’s all getting overwhelming and Lucifer can see you’re already at your limit.

He turns to the two demons on the top of the stairs and glares at them. The temperature drastically dropped, breathing felt so heavy all of a sudden, and there’s this feeling of dread that paralyzed not only the two but also everyone around them. Trying to run away wasn’t an option, the two girls knew it would just make things worse for them. 

“I expect to see the both of you in the council room at the end of the day. Or else.” There’s no negotiations, and opening their mouths to protest is already a defiance to Lucifer’s orders. He’s already quite strict on his brothers, what more to a pair of demons that doesn’t seem to understand that there are consequences to their actions? “Everyone, get back to your classes.” 

Once everyone has finally left you both alone, Lucifer carries you in his arms. There’s no way he’s letting you limp to the infirmary in this state. He checks your ankle and sighs when he realizes it’s sprained. You thought at first that he’s stressed because you getting hurt meant more work for him, but the worried look on his face shows that it’s not about that.

You’ve been so strong for doing so much here like helping Lucifer manage all of his brothers while still doing your duties as a student, trying to keep up a good impression enough for Diavolo’s exchange program. Now seeing you hurt with a swollen ankle is making Lucifer rethink his views. It’s not pity that’s written on his face, it's… something else entirely. 

“I don’t think you’re weak at all… but maybe it’s time that we take care of you, little lamb.” Lucifer says. It’s an understatement to say that you’re dependable because you’re much more than that to him. He wonders how he even managed to get by with his brothers before you came into their lives. You’ve been so reliable, Lucifer almost forgets that you’re also fragile. You’ve done too much, you deserve a break and be pampered. It’s exactly what he does now that you’ve got a cast on your foot. 

Lucifer doesn’t like seeing you with those crutches, it doesn’t sit right with him when someone like you is suffering from something as basic as going up the stairs. He starts making a proposal about making RAD more accessible for students by adding elevators or magical levitating platforms. While it’s a good idea on its own, you can tell that they had this plan so that you don’t have to suffer through the stairs anymore. Everyone else immediately agreed to the proposal without second thought. 

Lucifer had the two demons apologize to you, and he doesn’t care whether they bruise their skin or get covered in dirt, they will be doing it properly. To beg on their hands and knees, bowing down until their foreheads touch the floor. He won’t let them up until they actually feel genuinely sorry, he doesn’t care how many students will be staring at their pathetic displays. He’s almost tempted to dig his heels into the back of their skulls should they lift their heads for even a single inch from the ground. 

He’ll chip away at their pride that led them to hurting you, finding a way to humiliate them in every subtle way until they’re the ones cowering their head. Lucifer would make subtle comments each time their paths would cross, always looking for a single flow that he would call them out for under the pretense of how it’s unbefitting as a student of RAD. It’s so harsh that the brothers almost felt sorry for them. Is it petty? Perhaps it is. But he doesn’t feel guilty at all when they actively chose to hurt you, and maybe he’ll stop once your ankle is all better.

Mammon

You two were together but then he said had somewhere he needed to be. Mammon was supposed to meet up with you before classes, he just needs to talk to some people he owed a few grimm to and possibly ask for another deadline extension. He’s turning to every corner trying to make sure Lucifer won’t spot him counting his debt, though he did notice the crowd that was forming a few meters away. 

He didn’t give it much thought at first, but that’s until he heard the whispers of students walking towards the scene. ‘It’s that human exchange that fell’ ‘fell? They were pushed, weren't they?’ And that’s when Mammon starts to sprint, honestly hoping that it was Solomon and not you that they were talking about. 

“Outta the way dammit!” Is all you hear, with a few grunts from students getting forcibly shoved to the side before Mammon finally finds you on the floor clutching your ankle. He squats next to you to check the damage, and you can tell from the expression on his face that it doesn’t look good at all. 

He looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons snickering at each other before running away from the scene. Mammon recognizes them, he’s heard some of the nasty stuff they’ve said about this exchange program, and especially about you. It just never occurred to him that they’d do something this drastic when given the chance. Mammon was gone for ten minutes and that was enough time to hurt you. 

He wanted to run after them, force the two to apologize to you. To make them pay. Though the wince and cries from you are what makes Mammon think with a clear head. You tell him that your ankle is hurting, you can’t move it as much without any pain. So he carries you and makes a run for it to the infirmary. No ambulance compares to how quickly Mammon ran just to get you some help.

Mammon stays by your side, too afraid to leave you for another second after what happened. He stares as they patch up your ankle and you’ll be in crutches until it heals. He’s mad, but definitely not at you. He’s angry that this happened under his watch when he’s supposed to be making sure you’re safe from demons like those. That was a role entrusted to him and he already feels like he failed.

“Ya aint leavin’ my sight, not until that ankle of yours is back in shape aight?” And he meant every word. If he’s not glued to your hip, then you swear you can see a three-eyed crow that’s following you around wherever you go. You just feed it some snacks if you have some when you can, and you wake up with shiny trinkets by your desk the next day.

Mammon is ready to be at your beck and call anytime you need it. You let out a grunt of frustration if you dropped your bag and spilled all your belongings. Your sprained ankle makes it hard for you to bend over to get them, but the moment you turn your head, Mammon is already at your feet grabbing you everything. If it weren’t for the circumstances (like your injury), Belphie would probably exploit this and make his older brother do everything while pretending you asked for it. 

The two girls have noticed how much those crows have been following them around. Crows can hold grudges, and they definitely recognize the demons that hurt the human they (and their master) care about. 

It started off as something harmless as landing on their desks, squawking at them, or stealing their pens before an important exam. Though when Mammon noticed them occasionally mocking you behind your back for that cast once you came back to RAD, the crows became more aggressive. The birds pulled on their hair, pecked and bit on their skin, clawing at them whenever they could.

Desperate for this madness to stop, the demons are already by Mammon’s feet begging for the crows to leave them alone. Personally, Mammon would’ve done something much worse but there was no way he’s going to abandon you for a second with that cast. “I’m feeling quite generous, so if ya hear me out on my conditions i’ll let you off the hook yeah?” 

In exchange for finally getting some peace from those crows, the demons agreed to two conditions. One, never to lay a hand on you ever again unless they want the risk of the birds invading their homes. No more mocking or even looking at you with malice. Two, pay Mammon every month. By the time that you got that cast removed, Mammon has paid off some debt from his classmates and he’s quite proud of it. At least he could take care of you and save some coin at the time. No one said it had to be his money right?

Levi

Levi didn’t spend lunch with any of his brothers or classmates as usual today. He likes spending his free time alone in isolated places like the school garden, empty classrooms, or even the rooftop so he could play his games or watch his anime in peace. Socializing with too many people is overwhelming, this is his own way of recharging to get through the rest of the day. 

Though there are rare instances that Levi would ask you to join him in his little hideouts, because you’re one of the people he doesn’t feel too draining to be around. He planned to share some of the snacks he bought for the both of you, but he saw that you were talking with his other brothers at the cafeteria. Feeling dejected, he decided to spend the lunch alone as usual and wait for the class. There’s no way you would want to spend time with someone who’d rather play gacha games on his phone for lunch…

He was hiding by the corners of the stairwell to play his game when he overheard two demons talking so badly about you, followed by hurried footsteps and then a heavy thump at the end of the stairs. Then he heard a familiar voice cry out in pain, and it’s when he realized that you were pushed off the stairs. He saw your body on the floor, trying to recover from the fall and he felt like his world was crashing in on him. He’s frozen in place, unsure of what to do without making things worse.

You turned around and found him hiding behind the stairwell, eyes locked for a moment that felt like an eternity to the demon. That’s when Levi realized he can’t just stand there idly when his player two is injured. Despite the anxiety, he ran to your side anyway to check on you. His face went so pale when he saw you clenching your ankle, the pain evident in your expression. “I-i’ve got you just… dammit what do i d-do…?!” He mumbles the last part, because he knows this isn’t a game where it takes one button to heal you back. No saved file to help him now. 

Levi looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons glaring at the both of you. Out of all the brothers, they would never take Levi seriously. To them, he’s just some demon who dedicated his life to a world of fiction and seeing him fumble right now just proves it. They say that Levi just lacks any real skill to even help you before they left. 

He hates to admit that those two are right, and that makes him loathe himself even more. Levi almost went down on a spiral, but that’s until he felt a phone get placed on his hand. He turns to meet your gaze, you handed him his D.D.D. and he knew what you were asking him to do. Levi quickly dials for his brothers and help came to you after a minute of doing so. He’s thankful for their quick responses, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if a crowd started forming around you both. 

Everyone of them was huddled outside the infirmary while you were getting patched up, and Levi explained what he witnessed. Though he starts going into his self-destructive speech patterns at how he could hardly do anything to help you by himself that he needed to get his brothers to do it for him. He felt so useless to you, but Lucifer interjects. “It’s natural to panic. But if you did not call for us, then they would’ve been in pain for much longer.”

That helped Levi feel a little bit grounded hearing reassurances from his brothers. Lucifer then tasked Levi to be the one in charge of taking care of you during school days. Since Levi also takes his classes online, then he can watch over you while you’re resting in the house. You both can take online classes together while you recover from your injury.

Levi spends most of the time in your room instead because there’s no way he’s making you go up those stairs to his room, and he doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt or slipping if you try to get in his bathtub. As clumsy as he could be, Levi did his best to take care of you. He did want to spend some time alone with you, but he wished it didn’t take a sprained ankle to get what he wanted. 

“I-if only this healing item exists, it would’ve been really handy right now…” He says as you both play a two-player game, the demon staring longingly at the recovery potions on the screen and wishing it could take away your pain right now. Levi often wonders… maybe if he didn’t sulk from the jealousy, if he actually asked you that day to go spend lunch with him, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this. 

Levi was watching some anime while you slept, and he saw the bullies on the anime picking on the innocent main protagonist. The scene just reminds him of what happened to you, and that brings him this sense of rage and justice. It was unfair what those two girls did to you, and Levi doesn’t think it’s right that he does nothing about this (assuming that his brothers haven't gotten to them first). 

The girls found all their accounts hacked. From Devilgram to their bank accounts. Their emails and passwords were changed overnight so they couldn’t figure out how to get it back, and if by some miracle they recovered their accounts, everything was already wiped clean by then. Levi may not be the most confrontational brother, but he’s the best behind the screen. He’s chugging his third energy drink as he thinks of new ways to plant a virus in their D.D.D.’s when he goes to school at the end of the week to hand over both of your homeworks. 

When Levi overheard the girls still talking about you during break, they found all their stuff completely drenched and ruined by the time they came back to their seats even though the classroom remained dry. Gadgets were water damaged, and schoolwork that they were supposed to be submitting later is already long gone. Even their lockers were stuffed with sand and sea water, spilling all over their uniforms as soon as they opened it. The teachers scolded them for the mess they ‘created’ no matter the protests that they never did, but who would believe them if they said it was Levi’s doing? The girls never uttered your name again.

Satan

The teacher assigned you both as partners for a class project due next week, and Satan suggested that it’s best to get a head start on it while your schedules are free. You babysit all of his brothers every day, so Satan expects that your days are going to be quite busy if any of them knew you had a bit of free time to spare. At least his plans are something productive, he gets to spend time with you while also finishing some homework together. 

It’s ten minutes past the agreed time you both were supposed to meet. Satan is outside the school library, tapping his foot on the floor as he messaged you but receiving no response. He knows he could’ve gone ahead to do some research to pass the time, but the point of this study date was to do the project together. It’s never like you to be late without any notice, so he sets out to look for you. 

Satan is walking swiftly, wondering if you were still at the cafeteria. He dials your number to try to call you during his search, and he stops in his tracks when finds your phone on the ground, the screen cracked. It brought alarms in his head and he picked it up to figure out where you must’ve dropped it. It wasn’t hard because he soon spotted the crowd of demons by the stairway nearby. He could immediately guess what happened as he ran to the crowd, and he’s shocked when finally sees that you were the source of commotion.

He doesn’t care how many students he shoved just to get to your side. Seeing you on the ground in pain already warrants an emergency. Satan guessed your phone flew out of your hand when you fell. “What happened to you?! Where does it hurt?!” Satan asks, pulling you close in his arms and checking what’s causing you pain. He sees your ankle swelling slightly, and he’s trying to deduce what he can do to help after reading all of those human health care books just for you.

Though the laughter he’s hearing from the distance is annoying and distracting. Satan glances up and spots the two girls fleeing the scene, looking so proud of themselves. When he realizes what happened to you, his anger is already bubbling through the surface that it’s almost hard to contain. The pained expression on your face doesn’t help, the only reason he hasn’t fully transformed into his demon form is that he doesn’t want to draw more attention or hurt you more than you already are.

The way these students crowded around you like vultures to a feast is making Satan frustrated at each and everyone of them. How could they just stand there and watch while you were in pain? And those two girls, he will make sure to burn their faces into his memory for later. You could practically feel the heat of his wrath radiating from your pact and it’s making your body hurt more. Satan realized that his temper right now could be causing you more pain, so he focuses his thoughts into getting you some help instead of the anger that wants to burn everything and everyone around you.

“Calm down… just calm down…” he mutters over and over while he gently scoops you into his arms, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself. Satan is careful when carrying you so he can take you to the infirmary, and all the students parted like the red sea when Satan shot glares at them, quickly scattering like rats while the two of you disappeared into the infirmary. 

His eyebrows are furrowed the entire time as he waits for you to get patched up. His brothers have already arrived after they heard what happened, though they could sense that the fourth born is already on edge like a ticking time bomb. He’s quiet not because there’s nothing to say, but because he’s trying to hatch a plan. Something like this shouldnt go unpunished…

Satan is glad for his position in the student council because it meant that he could access some files from RAD. What does he do best? Studying and gathering as much information as he could. He looks for any detention notices until he finds the names and faces of the two girls that hurt you. A smile spreads across his face, though it was nothing pleasant. Like he just found his new prey. 

He just needs to wait for that detention day, patience is the key to success. So for now he’ll focus on taking care of you. Satan pays more attention to you, always attentive to your needs. He brings you notes from any classes that you’ve missed during your recovery, and you heard from one of the brothers that they’re all trying to rack up money for a better phone since yours broke. you do admit that you feel bad for all the extra work he puts up for your sake, especially since Satan even had to do most of the project that you both were originally supposed to do together in the first place if it weren’t for the incident.

“You’re speaking nonsense. I don’t mind putting in more effort just for you, all you need to do is to recover. I’ll consider that as my thanks.” Satan would bring you books in bed or make you some coffee topped with some latte art just so you wouldn’t feel so bored. You can’t go to cafes or libraries with him like you both used to, so Satan will do everything with you in the comforts of your room. 

Satan counted the days until it was time. He assigns another brother to watch over you. Asmo pretends not to hear the sound of the main door closing in the middle of the night, distracting you with something pretty he recently bought. The next school day rolls around and everyone is lucky you’re still in bed rest when the news broke out. Two students were found unconscious on the stairs in an awful state. Normally, falling down a flight of stairs doesn’t do much damage to a demon as much as it can to humans. And yet the bones in their legs were absolutely shattered…

None of the brothers were honestly too bothered to tell you the events that transpired, mostly because they knew the culprit. Satan would rather that you focus your energy on recovering. The only news that Satan told you was that you both got a perfect mark on the project you both worked on in the comforts of your room, but he doesn’t bring up what happened to those two demons. You only found out when Solomon accidentally told you during his visits. 

Asmo

There’s only a few minutes left before the next bell would ring, so Asmo makes sure to retouch his makeup in the school’s bathroom just as he usually does. He dedicates twenty minutes of his daily time making sure that he looks absolutely perfect, so he could bless the eyes of those who pass by to bear witness of his beauty. At least, that’s what he always tells you whenever he leaves. 

Just a bit of blush here and there to match his eye shadow, and Asmo has this proud smile on his face when he’s sure that he looks absolutely spotless. He wanted to bring you along to his little pre-class make up routines, and maybe next time he’ll hear that sweet ‘yes’ from you when he asks. Just thinking about you is making him giddy, so Asmo packed up his pouch and tried to look for you.

It didn’t take him long because as soon as he opened the bathroom door, he spotted a few students by the stairs. Asmo finds it unusual because what could be so important that he’s not the center of attention? Regardless, he’s intrigued enough to investigate the source and he’s horrified to see you down the stairs, clutching your ankle. 

If it wasn’t you, then it was Asmo’s shriek that probably drew more attention to the scene. He’s quickly running to your side and checks if you hit your pretty little face anywhere. “Darling, that must’ve been a nasty fall! I would hate it if you got any bruises anywhere on that perfect skin of yours.” Asmo whines as he helps you sit up to give you more support, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

When he did so, he heard a scoff and finally turned his attention to the top of the stairs where the two girls looked at you with disgust. He recognizes one of them from his fanclubs, a girl that often tried to get his attention. The facial expressions and body language says all he needs to know, he’s seen this look before. Someone like you being held by Asmo is a major offense to her eyes. The two demons storm off before Asmo could say anything. 

Asmo pursed his lips together in frustration before he turned to all the students crowding around you. For once, he hated this attention you’re getting and he sees how much you’re getting shaken by this. “Scram.” Asmo said with enchanted glowing eyes, watching as they all obeyed his command. He then turns to you and wraps your arm over his shoulder to hoist you up. “Come on, let’s get that treated or Lucifer will kill me!” Asmo says to try lighten the mood, though it doesn’t hide the bloodlust in his eyes. 

He doesn’t like sweating when he just retouched his makeup, but he can’t even bring himself to think about that now whenever he hears the pained whimpers from you everytime you struggle to take a step. The brother’s eventually arrive to find Asmo outside the Infirmary, scrolling through his phone. Looking closely, he’s actually stalking the profile of the demon he saw earlier and there’s a sinister smile on his face whenever he learns something new about his target. The smile was enough to creep Levi out. 

Asmo is always checking up on you when you’re at home recovering, trying to cheer you up whenever he has the chance. It’s gotten to the point he lessened his time clubbing or going to malls just so he could stay with you. “When you’re out of that cast, there will be a special bath full of rose petals with your name written all over it.” Asmo does his best to pamper you whenever he can, knowing how hard it must be to have that cast. It’s truly awful when these sorts of things have to happen to you when you both just bought some matching shoes together! He decides not to wear it yet until your foot gets better.

While you were gone, Asmo did what does best. Gossip. He started giving that other demon attention like she always wanted, whispering and suggesting things in her ear. About how that other demon, her friend, was saying disgusting things behind her back and Asmo is only telling her this to ‘look out’ for her sake. He relishes in her angered expression, knowing he now has her wrapped around his finger like a puppet and all he needed to do was sit back to watch the show.

Each day he found himself feeling excited to go to school just to see how those two would hurt each other this time. It started as something petty with his fan constantly bumping into what she used to consider as a friend, feigning ignorance whenever she’s confronted. Of course, she retaliated back until their silent arguments full of passive-aggressiveness turned into something more violent and hostile. It started from mean notes to death threats until they can’t even stand being in the same room without trying to claw out each other’s eyes. All because of Asmo’s pretty words.

There are times teachers are called to intervene because two girls began fighting in the hallways, screaming profanities while pulling at the other’s hair or horns. Whenever the drama dies down, Asmo would go back to add more fuel to the fire just to watch them burn. He tells his dedicated fan more lies just to enable that rage, spreading a rumor or two around the campus to make it sound reliable. He loves having that charm that captivates and charms, especially someone as gullible as this demon who’d listen to anything he says.

News was no longer about your recent incident, it was now about how the two demons fought so badly that they fell over the stair railings from the top floor all the way down. Given the severity of the injuries they’ve given each other from the week alone, they had no choice but to be suspended until the student council decides what to do with them. 

Of course, the brothers knew Asmo pulled the strings, seeing that smile on his face whenever the two girls would try to tear each other apart made it so obvious. Not only was it easy and entertaining, but it kept his nails clean too. It’s not like he broke a rule right? They both did this to themselves. “I can’t wait to tell my darling what happened~!” Asmo hums excitedly on his way home to you.

Beel

Lunch time is definitely Beel’s favorite part of the day (and the lunch lady's worst nightmare). He’s golfing down as much food as he could since he’s been so hungry from his last class which was Magical Potions. Whenever his hunger starts to act up, it’s already a struggle not to eat the ingredients to alleviate it, knowing his teacher would scold him just like last time when he chowed down the entire jar of shadow salamander tails. 

He’s lucky whenever you both are paired up together, since you bring him some candies to alleviate his hunger enough for him to focus again. You were his lifesaver. Just the thought of you makes Beel wonder where you were. He went ahead today because you said you needed to see Satan to discuss a project, and you were taking quite a while. He’s had food saved up for you and it’s getting harder for Beel not to eat your share, plus it’s always better when you both eat together. 

The last straw was when he saw Satan in the cafeteria and when he asked the blonde where you were, the fourth born said he couldn’t find you. Beel grabs a few snacks to keep his stomach going when he searches for you. Normally it’s hard to convince Beel to leave the cafeteria during lunch break, but you’re that important for him to abandon the heaping food on his table. He was trained as an angel to be ready for any sort of disaster, and his gut is telling him that something is definitely wrong. He only confirmed it when he was walking down the stairs and saw everything. 

Two girls were laughing and mocking the human he’s grown to love and care for, and when he found you on the bottom of the stairs after a fall, Beel was seeing red. He doesn’t hesitate to slam his fist against the wall and demand silence, because there was no way he was going to let them insult you any further. The two demons saw him and stiffened, quickly running away from the scene to avoid getting caught. The girls knew that Beel would crack their skulls open like he did to that wall if he got his hands on them.

Beel normally would’ve gone after them, but seeing how you’re struggling to get up on your own is what changed his mind and ran to you instead. He doesn’t even get to run all the way, at some point Beel jumps down the last flight of stairs just to reach you quicker. “Tell me if it hurts…” Beel whispers as he tries to help you up. You winced from the pain, and he decided to effortlessly carry you all the way to the infirmary because he would never make you limp this entire trip and deal with the ache. He’s a big demon, and lots of people find him terrifying when aggravated. And yet he’s so gentle when it comes to you.

Being a fangol player, Beel knows what it’s like to hurt yourself. He’s had Lucifer and Mammon help him back to the house after one intense match against the opposing team. The difference is that he could heal a bit more quickly compared to your fragile human body. What normally takes days for his body to regenerate could last months for you. He’s being careful when he carries you to the infirmary, holding you close like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held and he might be right at this point when he watches the nurses patch you up.

Beel is pacing so much outside the infirmary that his twin had to calm him down before he would drill a hole in the middle of the halls, his head is thinking about all of the what-ifs. Luckily you weren’t critical, save for the sprained ankle, but there’s this guilt on his face when he looks through the window and sees your cast. Maybe he should’ve been with you when you went looking for Satan so that he would have protected you, but what’s done is done now. So he focuses on taking care of you and reminding you that you could always rely on him for help.

He brings you some of your favorite treats whenever he comes home from RAD so you both could eat together. At some point, he heard from Solomon that milk is the key for humans to have stronger bones. You tried not to laugh when Beel got a galon just for you, innocently thinking that it would’ve helped you out with your injury if you drank all of it. 

Beel is too nice for a demon, he might be the kindest of the seven brothers. But there’s been this tension around the orange haired demon whenever he’s sharing a class with the two girls that pushed you down those stairs. There's this hardly contained rage and blood lust, so a lot of students avoided mentioning what happened to you around him unless they want to get caught in the crossfire. 

Beel finds it frustrating whenever he feels that he can't do anything about this rage. Watching you limp around in crutches around the house while those girls were striding down the halls without a care, it wasn't fair. It’s taking all his willpower not to just throw them out of the window for what they did to you. He broke several pens whenever he's too angry during class that Satan had to lend him some of his own. He feels this loss of appetite now that you’re not around to share food with him, and whenever he would remember the incident he would bend the metal of his fork, shaping it effortlessly like it’s clay. It’s a matter of concern for the brothers now.

Belphie took his twin out to the gym so Beel could let his frustrations through workouts. He may have destroyed two punching bags, but it was enough to bring down that anger to a safer level now. And during all that, Beel finally confided in his twin. About how he saw those girls mock you, and this innate urge to just see them suffer but it’s impossible to do that without destroying everything in his path. He would get in a lot of trouble, and he knows that would upset you instead. 

“It’s just unfair, you know that they didn’t deserve that…” Just because he was nice doesn’t mean he wasn’t vengeful, but he’s at a loss of what he could do that wouldn’t result in another property damage bill sitting on Lucifer’s desk. Belphie can just sense how his Beel is itching for a bit of revenge, and who is he to deny what his twin wants? 

For Magical Potions, Beel had to partner up with Satan and Belphie since you’ll be absent for the time being. They had the perfect plan, all Satan needed was a good sleight of hand to drop something in their cauldron when he walks by. Given that these two love pulling pranks on Lucifer specifically, they took a page out of their book of schemes for new targets. 

Maybe his brothers forgot to consider that these two demons do not have the same kind of strength or resistance that the eldest had… or they both did this on purpose. Adding hellfire frog legs into the girl’s cauldron during Magical Potions class was actually more explosive than they expected, resulting in awful burns on their skin and hair. Beel’s priority is to take care of you everyday so he didn’t have much time to relish in this side of his that wants to wreak havoc, but he admits that seeing your bullies in pain like this is actually fun. It’s almost as satisfying as those ten stack pancakes he had two days ago… ah great, now he’s getting hungry again.

Beel is coming home to you with a box of your favorite treats. You wanted to try those new batch of sweets from Madame Scream but the brothers kept you in bed rest due to your ankle, so Beel went out of the trouble to get them for you. It took a lot of willpower not to eat a single one on the way back which deserves praise. You’ve been feeding him so many snacks during class to help him focus, this is his way of returning the favor to you. 

He doesn’t bring up what happened during potions class with the girls that pushed you, and he honestly didn’t feel the need to do so since they weren’t important as you are to him. He’s too busy trying to feed you some yummy snacks to even think about that. You only hear about what happened through his twin who was grinning from ear to ear when he recalls the boils and burnt hair. “Well, it’s their fault for not checking their cauldron. They’re not smart and careful like you.” 

Belphie

Belphie found a perfect spot to sleep around RAD where he’s sure Lucifer won’t spot him yet. It’s hidden in the school gardens, a nice secluded area with a small bench surrounded by bushes that would surely keep him out of sight. He’s been slowly putting pillows and blankets he’s brought so that it becomes a little slumber haven for him, and Belphie feels that he’s ready to show you his secret spot. He’d never tell his brothers because he wants to have at least a few minutes alone with you every weekday.

The problem with that plan is that Belphie can’t even find you. He’s already at the verge of passing out from the exhaustion of trying to keep himself awake in his search for you. Lunch in school is normally his nap time allowance, but he really did want to show you this secret hide out so that you both could enjoy it together. 

He runs into his twin who was also looking for you, so it’s better they just stuck together right? Belphie had plans to show Beel anyways once this was done with. They passed by a corner to go upstairs in case you were already in the classroom, and that’s when they both saw you at the bottom of the stairs where those two girls were laughing at you. 

Belphie didn’t know what came over him, but his body could hardly move when he saw you like that. It’s bringing him a lot of bad memories of choices he came to regret until this day, remembering the things he did to you when he threw your body down the stairs. He wanted to forget that, but seeing this whole situation is making that memory repeat in his head. Like the guilt is creeping back to him, and he froze in place not knowing what to do other than to relive the moment. 

Beel grabbed Belphie by the wrist to snap him out of the trance, reminding the youngest that you need some help. The twins came by your side, hoisting your arms over their shoulders to help you in the infirmary. The two girls were already long gone while Belphie was in a frozen state, and Beel would’ve gone after them if not for his twin and you because his family always comes first. 

The one thing that’s comforting Belphie right now is the fact that you’re still alive and breathing, though it can only do so much. He doesn’t like seeing you in pain like this, so he offers a spell so you could sleep through it while the nurse from the infirmary patches you up. He’s quiet the entire time when he watches you rest, Beel tries to talk to his twin about it but he refuses to let his problems known. It’s not like it was hard to guess, Beel can tell what’s bothering his twin but doesn’t mention it. 

Belphie has been taking naps by your side whenever possible, sleeping in your room and making sure to give you sweet dreams each time you start falling asleep. Though he himself couldn’t sleep. Each time he tries to get some shut eye with you, he ends up reliving that day when they found you at the bottom of the stairs. The way those girls mocked you was unforgivable, and he hates how it’s hitting too close to home. Whenever he wakes up, he checks on your pulse while you’re asleep and sighs in relief every time he feels your heart beat. Like it’s the only thing that can calm him down. 

By the time he woke up from his third nightmare, Belphie had enough. If he wants to feel at peace again, then he needs to get rid of the source of the problem. It wasn’t fair that you’re suffering like this, he hates seeing the empty seat next to him in class knowing that you’re supposed to be there instead of staying at home with that cast. Lucifer told him that they’ll be dealing with the matters soon, but Belphie had no intention of listening to them in the first place. 

Belphie has been gradually giving the two girls nightmares, and each night they progressively get worse. From using their phobias against them to waking up from a gorefest nightmare in the middle of the night. It costs them sleep, and Belphie thinks it’s the perfect piece of karma whenever he sees the bags under their eyes getting darker each day. Hair and clothes started to look more haphazard when there’s barely any energy to keep themselves up.

Whenever Belphie shares a class with them, he pulls a little bit of magic to make them fall asleep during class until they get into a lot of trouble. He loves doing this when there are important tests and activities so they’d miss it and fail. No amount of coffee helps keep them awake during the day while the nightmares plague their sleep. The constant fatigue and the lack of sleep is starting to get to them, and Belphie has been observing everything. Movements were more sluggish and alertness has gone below the baseline. Just exactly what Belphie was waiting for. 

It’s a simple plan that leads to the least amount of struggling and effort needed, because all it took was one shove for them to tumble out of the railings and down several flights of stairs. When they’ve finally stopped rolling against the stairs, they hear Belphie’s heavy footsteps as he walks down to their level until he’s stepping on one of them with the heel of his foot. He’d compare them to bugs, but that would be insulting to all insects.

“You know, I had a lot of plans with them that day… I don’t like it when people, even my brothers, decide to ruin them.” His love for you and spoiled attitude is what’s fueling his anger right now, so he had no qualms with pushing them down the next flight of stairs with his foot. And whenever they think it’s over, he goes down and does this again. Like kicking a pebble he’s found on the ground… all the way down to the first floor. 

There’s this satisfied look on his face as soon as he sees the two girls on the floor already at the brink of unconsciousness. He feels so much lighter now, and all he can think of is how he wants to go home to take a nap with you. He doesn’t even walk over to the side, he just steps over the two girls on his way out. 

Belphie comes home with the usual drowsy expression, but you can tell he’s in a much better mood now. He lays down next to you in bed, already hugging you close to his chest while making sure he’s not hurting your ankle. “I think I can get more sleep now…” he says with a confident smile on his lips, lulling you to slumber with him. After that incident, it’s the first in a while that Belphie finally has his usual 10 hour nap. 

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 11 ] || [ Chapter 13 ]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i'm in love with gaz x2 date scene fully inspired by this artwork by @mindie-arts

Chapter 12: A Date?

Sitting across from Gaz in the warm japanese restaurant under a warm-toned lamp, you find yourself a bit flustered by how cute he looks.

Sure, you knew he was cute, of course… His pictures on Tinder more than showed it. He’s the epitome of a pretty boy, all polite and sweet, smiling bright, with those warm brown eyes that look more like pools of melted chocolate that you could find yourself sinking into like quicksand.

He ordered extra meat for himself and is currently scooping it into his bowl of Tonkotsu Ramen as you regale him with your tales of your night with Simon.

“Now, hold on-” He stopped you just as you were biting into your jammy soft-boiled egg.

“Hm?” You questioned as you cocked a brow.

“So… Let me get this straight-” He said as he slowly stirred the slices of pork in the hot broth of his ramen. “You and Ghost didn’t-” He trailed off.

“No!!! I already told you!” You replied as you shoved the rest of your halved egg into your mouth and chewed.

“Hm…” Kyle replied with a bit of an awkward smile as he started softly slurping his noodles.

“Why, ‘Hm’? What does that mean?” You asked him with a cocked brow. Kyle simply shook his head and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“I just think it’s… curious.” He admitted and shrugged. “Like… Simon is very secretive.” He explained.

“I’ve gotten that impression off him.” You replied, but Kyle nodded.

“Yeah but for a stranger, it’s easy to spot that, to understand it. But… We’ve all served with him for years now and we know nothing of him.” He explained with a shrug and an awkward smile again.

As you heard him talk, you slurped your noodles as well, holding the bowl up to your mouth as you did so.

“Soap even gasped when he found out that Ghost had a Tinder account, and the way he was chatting when he went on a date with you, well…” He trailed off and took a bite of one of his eggs as well.

“I wouldn’t call it a date.” You replied as you set down your bowl and took a sip of your drink. Across from you, Gaz did the same, sipping from his Stella Artois glass.

“You met on a dating app, had drinks, went back to yours, spent the night together… That’s a date.” He retorted and you nod your head, conceding to his point.

“Fine… I guess…” You sighed. “But I still don’t see what the big deal is.” You added. “He seems… nice. A bit weird… But nice.” You explained. “He seems like he just… needs a break.” You added and half-shrugged.

Kyle’s head dipped a bit to the side and he regarded you with gentler, softer eyes, quietly contemplating what you said.

“You’re really nice.” He ended up saying after a moment then he pressed his lips together for a moment as he watched you eat.

“Fanks.” You mumbled halfway through chewing a piece of your pork slices.

“Simon was there, you know… When you went to meet Captain Price. Just to make sure you were, you know… Normal.” Gaz quipped, which caused your eyes to widen.

“He was?” You asked sharply, your voice rising an octave for a moment.

“Ye… He… He doesn’t trust easy.” He replied.

“I’ve noticed.” You added, still a bit put off by the news. 

“Well, anyway…” He trailed off. “He uh… he came back to base after you and him left the pub and he told us you were nice, normal…” He explained. “And he said that the captain was a bit reticent to be there and you were both feeling awkward… And you so sincerely told him he could leave if he wanted to and that he didn’t need to force himself to be there.” Gaz explained.

Your eyes widened a bit and your face warmed up lightly as he revealed that he knew of how you had reassured John.

“So… I guess… I guess I see it now.” Kyle admitted. “You’re very… gentle.” He ended up after searching for the right word. “A right laugh, funny as fuck, very bratty… But… nice and kind.” He added. “It’s no wonder they both felt good with you, especially Ghost.”

“Well… thanks.” You said softly, smiling sheepishly, and he did the same as he resumed eating.

“Do you feel… good with me too?” You asked him with a cocked brow and pursed lips.

Nodding at you, Kyle smiled. “Yeah, I’d say I do.” He said as he slurped his noodles again.

You resumed eating as well and, sometimes, you’d glance at one another and smile sheepishly before looking away and focusing on your meals.

“So…” You said as you reached over and dipped a gyoza in the soy sauce. “Did you really fall out of a helicopter?” You asked, which caused his eyes to light up with amusement.

“I did.” He answered with a nod and a grin on his lips.

“How did that happen?” You cocked a brow.

-

Thirty minutes later, you and Gaz are walking side to side as you head back to work. He’s spent most of the time regaling you with stories about work (with the proper censorship of events, dates, places and people). 

You barely got a word in and yet, somehow, you don’t mind. You’re surprisingly entertained by him, by the way his eyes light up when he speaks, the way his smile grows every time a story gets a bit more action-packed…

If you didn’t know by now that he’s a soldier (and an elite one, if his stories are to be believed), you’d have called him out by now by making it all up… But he also showed you a few of his scars to prove he wasn’t lying.

As you reach the front door of your workplace, he’s just finishing up his latest story, just in time. You still have a couple of minutes to burn so you linger with him, hands clasped in front of you, as he has his own on the front pocket of his blue hoodie.

“Thanks for this.” You told him with a smile, watching as his face morphed in confusion.

“Thanks for what?” He asked you with a cocked brow and a smile on his lips.

“Well… everything? Buying me lunch, telling me so many stories, walking me to work…” You listed and chuckled. “I haven’t gotten this type of… attention in a while.” You explained.

Kyle gives you a look of disbelief. “You’ve been going out with Ghost, what do you mean you don’t-” He started but you interrupted him with a sharp ‘That’s different!’.

“Simon is very nice and I enjoyed myself greatly with him but something tells me he wouldn’t exactly want to go out for ramen on my lunch break in broad daylight, without a mask.” You quipped playfully.

“Ah- yeah, I see your point.” Kyle joked a bit.

“And, besides… I got out of a… trainwreck of a relationship recently…” You explained as you shifted your weight around on the balls and heels of your feet.

“Is that why you were on Tinder?” He asked as he dipped his head to the side in understanding.

“Mhm.” You nodded and smiled softly. “Anyway…” You trailed off. “It’s nice to have someone make time to meet up with me during lunch break and… you know… Have a date!” You replied.

“Oh it’s a date, is it?” He asked you with a smirk on his lips and a wiggling of his eyebrows.

“Oh, fuck off…” You quipped and nudged him on the shoulder with your hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute…”

Kyle’s lips parted into a boyish grin as he looked at you. “You think I’m cute?” He asked, amused.

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him again and he simply laughed playfully in response. 

Checking the time on your phone, you sighed. “I should go upstairs.” You told him and he nodded. 

“Have a good rest of your day. And text me, yeah? I’d like to repeat this.” Kyle told you and you nodded too, smiling sheepishly.

“I plan on it.” You added and leaned up, kissing his cheek, just like you did with Simon a couple of weeks before.

Kyle smiled and chuckled softly when you pulled away. He leaned close and kissed your cheek in return, causing your cheeks to burn a bit.

You waved at him and rushed back inside your workplace. Standing outside in the pavement, Kyle watched you go through the windows, with a smile and returned the wave with a raising of his hand and a single little wave before tucking his hands back in his pockets and walking off again.

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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[chrisevansonly]

𝐀 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you love your boyfriend really you do, but you also love cats…and a little kitten managed to steal your attention away from you very clingy lando..

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: no warnings just fluffy

𝐚/𝐧: this was self indulgent, i just wanted fluff and idk i feel so shitty and nasty about myself and i needed fluffy lando goodness

Off season was in full swing which meant you and Lando were back in London together for a few weeks before you took off on your travel adventures. It was nice to have some quality time with your favourite boy in the world, and the first thing on your list was groceries.

Lando as usual let you do the shopping as he dotted on you, his hand in yours, on your waist or wrapped around you as you reached for your favourite cereal

“Lan you really aren’t being much help..”

“Mhm I am.”

“So you wrapping yourself around me like a koala is helping?”

He smiled into your neck, leaving a few kisses to your collarbone

“Exactly”

“Can you at least put your arms to use and grab our cereal before you continue to squeeze me into pieces?”

You shook your head, your voice teasing as he unwrapped himself from you, reaching up and grabbing two boxes before dropping them in the kart. Letting you continue your way down the aisle, Lando of course attached back to you as you checked off your list and made your way up to check out.

Once everything was payed for and bagged you made your way to the car, putting everything in trunk of Lando’s range rover, not without a few kisses to your cheek and of course a very Lando like squeeze to your butt.

“There, now we can stop ordering take out”

“I like our takeout nights..”

Turning to see the pout on your boyfriends face you smiled, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned up to kiss him

“I know but now we have fresh and healthy things so I can get back to cooking…we can still have takeout on Friday’s how about that?”

Lando thought about it before nodding

“Deal, I love you”

“I love y-kitten!!”

Your arms quickly dropped making the british driver frown, moving to walk slowly towards the little grey kitten just perched next to the car beside you. It’s little eyes watching you carefully as you kneeled down

“Oh hi my love…come here it’s okay..”

The kitten moved towards you at the sound of your voice, of course keeping it soft as to not scare it away

“Hi little one”

Lando watched with a frown as you scooped up the little cat, clearly feeling a little pouty that you ditched him for the cat

“Lan look at it! It’s so small and cute!!”

“No way.”

You looked at him, your puppy dog eyes coming into effect

“Absolutely not angel, no WAY”

“But-but Lan look at him, we can’t just leave him here he’s so little!”

Lando was close to breaking, even you could see it.

“Baby we are always away, we don’t have time for a cat…”

He was right to some degree, but you were often home more than him, and worst case you could find a sitter for the cat. Your brain had begun to find a solution for every possible problem Lando could come to with.

“Please…oh lan please we-I can’t leave him here..I promise i’ll make sure I take the best care of him…”

Lando would admit the grey fluff ball was cute, and that look you had on your face was pretty sweet too, how could he say no to you, especially when you looked so happy

“Alright fine”

“Thank you thank you thank you baby!!!”

Cradling the kitten in your arms you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, his arms wrapping around you as he held onto you tightly

“Next thing you know I’ll be the crazy cat dad like Max”

“Max has two cats love..”

“He’s still crazy..”

Shaking your head at Lando’s dramatics you kissed him once more before walking towards your car, your new little family member happy in your arms, sound asleep. A kitten distraction is what Lando would call it, but if you’re happy, he’s happy, even if he’s starting to realize he needs to share your attention.

And he’s just not sure he’s ready to do that…

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending. 

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack. 

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door. 

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men. 

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night. 

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.” 

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since. 

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone. 

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression. 

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them. 

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice. 

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so. 

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit. 

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you. 

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering. 

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's. 

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked. 

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips. 

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water. 

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them. 

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder. 

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well. 

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back. 

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap? 

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth. 

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open. 

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.” 

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth. 

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique. 

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.” 

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.” 

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile. 

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

Taglist:@pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3

[unfinishedslurs]

aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)

“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“

Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 

“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”

“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”

Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—

He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”

Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 

“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”

“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 

“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”

“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”

“What,” Steve says. 

“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 

“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”

His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”

“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”

“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”

He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 

Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.

“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”

“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”

“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”

“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”

“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 

“Dyke,” he shoots back. 

“Cocksucker.”

“Carpet—“

“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 

“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 

“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”

Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 

“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 

“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”

“You thought I—how would I know?”

The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!

“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”

“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.

“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”

“You know what flagging is?”

“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”

“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”

“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”

“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”

He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”

“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”

Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 

They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.

“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”

“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“

“That’s—I like topping!”

“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 

“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”

Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I told you he’s shy!”

“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”

“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”

“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”

“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”

“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”

“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 

“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“

“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”

“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”

Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”

“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”

“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”

Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”

Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”

He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”

“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”

It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”

Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 

“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”

“I figured that was a common occurrence.”

“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You were telling me how awesome I am?”

“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”

“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”

He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”

[purple-obsidian]

mine or yours (18+, jason todd x fem reader) wc 1.1k

⭓ this post contains sexual content and is not suitable for minors.

This is wrong. You’re being unsafe. You know this. You barely know this man, and yet, you accepted his offer to help you move. It wasn’t even into a new building, you were just switching units with the old man you’ve befriended since living here, since you had an apartment on the first floor. The crappy apartment building you live in always has issues with the elevator, and Mr. Espinosa recently started using a walker. You were just doing the right thing, letting the senior citizen switch with you so he could have the more accessible unit. And so was Jason- just doing the right thing, helping his new neighbor move when he saw you struggling with carrying heavy boxes up and down several flights of stairs.

Touched behind the reason for your move, he cleared his whole Saturday to not only help you move in, but help the old man settle in as well. Seeing your new neighbor lift such heavy boxes and bulky pieces of furniture with ease was something you didn’t expect to affect you so much. But watching him work had your heart beating fast, and the giant of a man caught you staring at his strong arms more times than you’re comfortable admitting.

“Let me buy you some pizza, it’s the least I can do.” You had offered at the end of the day, both of you tired from the hard word you put in.

“I like pizza.” He said cooly, leaning against your doorframe and grinning at you. The way he casually wiped the sweat from his brow made your throat feel tight.

A nervous smile spread across your face, as you reach in your pocket for your phone. “Great! I’ll order some for delivery. You like pepperoni?”

That was several hours ago. Now, it’s almost midnight, and your new neighbor has you bent over your couch, large hands gripping your hips, clothes discarded in a pile on the floor, him rearranging your guts as an old sitcom rerun plays on your TV, which is stacked precariously atop several unpacked boxes.

“That’s it… you like that, don’t you? I can feel you clenching, baby, you gunna cum?” He asks, breathless and smiling, a bead of sweat running down his forehead.

You try desperately to conceal the lewd noises coming from your mouth. His pace is unwavering, tantilizing, making your toes curl and your fists clench at how delicious the friction feels against your inner walls. You don’t trust yourself to try and speak, so you just nod, looking back at him with a completely fucked-out look on your face.

Jason chuckles, and reaches forward to grasp the back of your neck with his hand. The feeling of his calloused skin gripping you there feels so dominating, it elicits a low whimper from your parted lips, unable to hold it together while your pleasure builds to an intolerable level. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He hisses through gritted teeth.

His praise is the final push you need. Your pleasure peaks as his hips thrust into yours, spilling over and flooding your body with warm tingles that radiate down your legs. You’re sore from all the work you’ve done today, trekking up and down 4 flights of stairs more times than you can count. Your exhaustion seems to intensify your orgasm, making you shake and shudder, more of your slick leaking out around Jason’s cock when he finally slows his pace.

“Yes… fuck yes. You’re something else, baby.” His possessive grip on your neck releases, letting both hands wander down to caress your ass gently, watching you twitch and spasm around him from the intensity of what he just did to you. His eyes wander to where your bodies meet, and his cock throbs painfully when he sees the abundance of wetness dripping from your swollen cunt.

You struggle to keep yourself from going limp. It feels like someone filled your brain with warm honey, all coherent thoughts have disappeared, replaced with feelings of euphoria, given to you by a stranger.

Jason pulls out of you, but keeps his hands firmly on your waist to guide you so you’re laying down on your back, head resting against the arm of your old grey couch he helped you carry in just hours earlier.

“I… that… you…” You stammer out a few words, unsure of what you’re even trying to say anymore.

“Ha, yeah, me too, ma.” Jason kneels on the couch, leaning over you and lowering his head so he can place a few warm kisses over your chest. “But I’m not done.”

Reflexively, your hands go to his head, running your fingers through his hair as you revel in the feeling of his lips against your skin. His warm mouth dances over your breasts, kissing and licking at your nipple languidly, taking his time and savoring this moment.

“M’tired, Jason, so tired.” You finally mutter when your brain fog starts to clear.

“Don’t worry. All you gotta do is lay there and look pretty. I’ll handle the rest.” His voice rumbles deep in his chest, giving you a fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“But-“

“Oh, and you can call me Jay, if you like.”

“Jay,” you let out a sigh, “You gotta be tired too, why don’t we- mmmphhh!”

Your eyes were fluttering shut, which is how you missed when he shifted lower to position his face between your legs. His eager tongue laps at your aching cunt, soothing the soreness there, savoring the taste of your arousal before focusing his attention on your clit. His hands snake up under your thighs and around your hips, hiking you up effortlessly to give himself better access, holding you mostly still but not too firm. He’s being gentle. Far more gentle than you would expect from someone like him.

“J-jay…” You look down at him, his dark hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, piercing green eyes staring back up at you.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t pull his mouth away to answer you. His greedy lips are planted around your sensitive nub, licking at it as he creates just a little bit of suction. You want to squeeze your legs shut when the vibration of his hum tickles you. He’s already coaxed two orgasms from you, making you even more sensitive to his attention.

“You should… it’s getting… shit…” How the fuck are you supposed to concentrate when he’s looking at you like that? “W-we should go to bed.” Your fingernails graze his scalp gently.

“Mmm.” He moans in agreement, finally pulling his lips away from your core. “I guess we could continue this in bed.”

That isn’t exactly what you meant. But for some reason, you don’t have it in your heart to correct him.

“So…” He untangles himself from your legs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing his hand up and down your bare calf. His demeanor is so casual, as if he didn’t just completely rock your world. An excited grin appears on his rugged features as he asks, “Mine or yours?”

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[junkissed]

leaning on the everlasting arms

member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe

as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.

his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.

you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.

you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 

the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.

when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.

you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.

and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.

back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 

more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.

but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.

you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.

you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.

there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.

you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.

but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.

that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 

“joshua?”

“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 

there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?

“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.

you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”

he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”

“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?

he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.

“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”

“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”

you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.

so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.

you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.

and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 

his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 

your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.

no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.

automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.

your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.

“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.

your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.

“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.

the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—

“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”

you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 

except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.

“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.

he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.

your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.

somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?

he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.

“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 

all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.

“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.

“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!

“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.

apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.

your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.

you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”

his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.

“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”

“what did you just say?”

you freeze. “what… did i say?”

when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.

you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”

he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”

“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”

he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”

damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.

you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.

“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.

you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”

the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”

“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”

he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”

you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”

“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”

“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.

“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 

you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.

“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.

“yeah,” you say finally.

“are you still touching yourself?”

you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”

and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.

“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”

your mouth falls open. “i–”

“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”

your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.

“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.

“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”

you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”

“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”

you suck in a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”

you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.

finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.

once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.

“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.

you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”

“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”

you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.

“yeah?”

“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.

he chuckles. “oh, really?”

“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”

“and why is that, baby?”

the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.

“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”

his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”

“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.

you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.

“that’s not my name.”

you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”

“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.

you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”

“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”

“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.

it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.

“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 

“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.

he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”

“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.

after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.

“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.

with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.

you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.

the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.

“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.

and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”

you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.

a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.

you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.

it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.

you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.

oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.

he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”

and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.

your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.

you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 

joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.

“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 

“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.

“oh.”

he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”

“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.

his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”

“are you gonna expel me?”

“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”

you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.

he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”

the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.

you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.

luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”

“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”

he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”

you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”

your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.

“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”

his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”

except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.

the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.

“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”

“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.

he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.

it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.

he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”

you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”

“yes,” you say hurriedly.

he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”

“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”

his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.

he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.

“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.

he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“why don’t you find out?”

he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.

“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.

you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 

you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.

he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 

“always.”

he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."

and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.

you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.

he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 

but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”

your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—

but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.

when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.

“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”

in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.

with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.

he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”

you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”

“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.

“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.

in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.

finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”

you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”

he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.

“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”

his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.

he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.

the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 

“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.

your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.

he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.

your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”

you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”

he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”

you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.

“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.

“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.

“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.

your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.

you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.

he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.

“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.

he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”

“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.

he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”

you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”

first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?

“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.

“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.

he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”

you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.

“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”

you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.

when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"

he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"

"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."

his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"

you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."

after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.

he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.

so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.

it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.

you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.

you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.

he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.

"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"

he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."

"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"

by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.

"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.

in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.

his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 

your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 

cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."

“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.

his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”

you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 

he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.

with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"

his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"

his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 

he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.

you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.

your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.

his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.

joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.

"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.

his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.

"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.

he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"

you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.

it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."

he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."

he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 

"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.

and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.

the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.

he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."

he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.

"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.

you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.

"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."

you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.

"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 

a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.

his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.

"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.

"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.

"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."

"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.

he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"

you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”

being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.

you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”

it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.

you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.

everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.

it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.

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[abyssruler]

the 7-eleven diaries

albedo, alhaitham, childe, scaramouche, venti x gn!reader

your job isn’t the best one out there, but it’s easy and keeps you from drowning in tuition fees and rent. working at a 7-eleven on a midnight shift was supposed to be peaceful, so why is it that you constantly find yourself being bothered by weird customers? (modern au)

fluff, comedy, crack, cashier employee reader, modern au, written for fluffvember!

ALBEDO

It’s difficult not to take notice of the perpetually tired college student (much like yourself) who always comes at the latest hours to order a cup of black coffee and a can of beer. The first time you saw him order that drink was a memorable one, if only because of the way your eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw him mix the two drinks in a large, empty slurpee cup and proceed to drink it all in a matter of seconds.

Another memorable time was when he came in with only enough money to buy a bottle of water, then took a seat at a table near the counter and took out a box full of what you initially presumed were cookies. It was a traumatizing memory you look back on with a shudder as you remember the way he crunched down on it like it was a piece of biscuit instead of a motherfucking spider.

“They’re surprisingly nutritional, full of protein and fibre. It leaves a strange aftertaste, but it’s a good substitute for dinner.”

Since then, you’ve made sure to keep some food ready in the microwave for him, free of charge. He just looked so pitiful sitting by himself with dark under-eyes and greasy hair — the very image of a normal college student — that you couldn’t help yourself from taking money out of your own pocket to help a fellow comrade.

One day, he came to the store with blown pupils and a sort of dazed look in his eyes, words slurring together as he tried to explain to you how he’s finally created an edible liquid that can keep sleep at bay for at least 120 hours…with some small side-effects, but it’ll wear off with time. That’s when you found out he was a bio-chemistry student well on his way to getting a PhD at his young age.

When questioned why he drank the liquid instead of having someone else do it, his response was, “To experience it firsthand, of course. The basis of research is accuracy and precision, how could I be remiss as to leave such an important experiment to someone who could, in their ignorance, fail to mention an important detail that their mind might have labeled as useless.”

You’re not quite sure how he’s still alive by this point.

But his weirdness aside, you resolve to take care of him in your own way, from a fellow tired college student to another. You remind him to get some sleep, steering him away from eating spiders and encouraging him to eat more meat.

“But I am eating meat?”

“Albedo, that’s a spider.”

“And are you saying that spiders do not possess meat?”

“Oh, for the love of—just eat the goddamn sandwich.”

You think he appreciates it, if the way he dedicated his latest thesis to you is any indication.

ALHAITHAM

You were in the middle of answering a math problem your professor assigned that morning, papers sprawled over the counter with you hunched over it, hand in your hair and trying not to pull at it in frustration over how difficult the problem was. And then he’d come in like an angel, all perfectly shiny hair and a no-nonsense look on his face, took one look at you and the papers scattered across the counter and said one sentence that saved your grade in math.

“You forgot to put a negative sign right there.”

That was the moment you decided that he must be an angel sent from heaven. He always grunts whenever you call him that, though whether it’s from amusement or annoyance remains to be seen.

He doesn’t visit the convenience store much, but when he does, he always spares the time to help you out with whatever assignment you were working on, sometimes even taking the initiative of asking if you need his assistance in answering a problem — though he says this on a much less nicer tone.

“Are you gonna make me do your homework again?”

“My professer didn’t assign me one today, surprisingly enough, so no.”

He seemed strangely disappointed when you told him no, but you chalked it up to him being some sort of math wiz who gets riled up by equations and the like. Seems like kind of guy too, what with all the times he’s made a subtle jab at your intelligence — or lack, thereof.

“How could you possibly need a paper to calculate the answer to four-hundred and thirty-two times fifty-eight?”

“Not all of us are smarter than Rukkhadevata like you.”

“Who?”

He’s not bad company, though that opinion stems solely from the fact that he helps you (solves it for you, more like) with all your homework. Not without making comments about you lazing about on the job and letting your customer answer your assignment for you. You respond in a mature way by making fun of him.

“I’ve never seen you without those earphones. Are you hiding a pair of large ears or something?”

“No.”

He refuses to elaborate more on the subject.

Sometimes you give him a drink, usually cola or juice, as thanks for helping you out. He takes it without question, taking sips from it as he tutors you about this and that, occasionally commenting about your job and how you’re only making yourself suffer by taking on midnight shifts. You don’t see why he cares. For all that you jokingly call him an angel, you know he’s far from actually being one.

You once saw him on campus reading a book by the library. It’s easy enough to come up to him and make conversation, handing him an unopened drink you just bought from a vending machine. It just feels wrong not to, more of a habit by this point.

It’s then that someone decides to dramatically drop his books to the ground and point at you and Alhaitham. The blonde guy gapes and asks how in the world Alhaitham managed not to scare you away. His eyes zero in on the can of grape juice on Alhaitham’s hand, and then he proceeds to laugh, asking Alhaitham since when did he decide to start drinking what he once called was an unhealthy drink composed of sugar and artificial flavoring.

You made a mental note of that response, and later that night, you decide to hand him a packaged biscuit. Nothing unhealthy there. Technically.

“Good. I was beginning to wonder if I should start taking medicine in case my stomach burst from the amount of cola you hand me.”

“You could’ve just not accepted, you know.”

“It was given to me. Not accepting would be considered rude.”

“Didn’t Kaveh say you threw a bottle of orange juice to his face after he gave you one?”

“I did.”

He refuses to elaborate more on the subject, but you’ve since resolved to only give him the healthiest thing you could find on the store—which isn’t much considering this is a 7-eleven, but hey, microwaved salad is still salad, right?

He grumbles about the radiation but eats the salad anyway. Another win for you, you suppose.

CHILDE

He came in near the end of your shift, lips busted and an eye swollen shut, blood splattered all over his clothes. The grin on his face should’ve hinted you at his lunacy, but you’ve always been blind to warnings and the like, so you went over the counter and helped him up from where he’s slumped over the chips and candies isle.

Aether, your co-worker and the one who’s about to take over from your shift, only looked at you with tired eyes, “It’s too early for this shit.” That was, of course, Aether’s way of basically saying, you’re on your own.

So you picked up the ginger lying on the linoleum floors, heaving his arm over your shoulder to drag him to the nearest pharmacy — never let it be said that you were just a bystander. He groaned as the movement bothered whatever injuries he may have, but he still looked at you with wide, strangely lightless eyes, as if only now registering your presence, and said, “Holy shit, you’re hot.”

After you finished dumping him on the pharmacy and leaving the people there baffled at what to do with an injured guy, he grabbed your wrist and, with a bloody smile he probably thought was charming, handed you a piece of paper containing his number.

You never text him. Or call.

He comes back to the store a week later with faint yellow bruises across his face and a far too bright grin for someone who’s visiting a 7-eleven at two in the morning. He pouts about not getting a single text from you, but before you can respond, he’s moving on to another topic, mindlessly picking up a box of tampons by the side and setting it on the counter.

He only seems to realize what he’s done when you give him a strange look.

“Tampons are, uh, great for bloody noses!”

“…Right.”

You weren’t convinced at all, but you decided to let it slide. He seemed like a genuine guy, if a bit too enthusiastic sometimes. His mouth never shuts ups, always going on about this and that, asking all sorts of questions that would’ve normally had most normal people backing away. But your brain isn’t exactly at its best condition and being sleep deprived for the better part of your life has made it less of a brain and more of an organ that just helps you get through the day.

You don’t know exactly why he stays to chat with you, buying ridiculous amounts of stuff that were frankly far too expensive just to have an excuse to talk to you. You don’t mind it much, especially when he’s a great deterrent for any unwanted petty thieves or middle school delinquents trying to rob your store every week or so.

Apparently, he’s got a reputation for being a bit of an adrenaline junkie and being willing to fight anything and everything that breathes. And apparently, word’s gotten out that he’s into you, like, really into you, so most guys who have less-than-well intentions have decided that robbing the local 7-eleven isn’t worth the trouble if it means having to deal with Ajax.

“Actually, it’s Tartaglia.”

“Tarantula?”

“No, Tartaglia. It’s my street name! Ajax just doesn’t inspire the same fear into other people’s hearts the same way Tartaglia does.”

“Whatever you say, Tortilla.”

“It’s Tartaglia!”

He never brings up the fact that you never call or text him back, even when he’s somehow gotten ahold of your number and started sending you memes and updates about his day. When asked, he just shrugs and says he’ll win you over eventually.

SCARAMOUCHE

It wasn’t intentional, and you’ll admit it was completely your fault, but did he have to be such an asshole about you dozing off on the counter?

“Have the standards really fallen so low that employees are now afforded to sleep on the job?”

Here was this guy at two in the morning, bemoaning society’s failure in raising the new generation to have a proper work ethic at a 7-eleven store. The guy had a rolex watch and clothes that looked like they were worth more than your monthly salary — you’re not one to judge other people’s appearances, but he’s the very image of nepotism. And frankly speaking, you’re of the opinion that rich people shouldn’t be entitled to an opinion on what the working class decides do with their life, like falling asleep on the job.

…And oh, you just said that out loud, didn’t you?

Oh well, your manager will understand.

The guy with a bowl cut leaves fuming, but not before slapping a wad of cash down the counter to pay for his stupidly expensive noodles, snarling at you to keep the change since you clearly need it more than him.

You do, in fact, keep the change. Money is money, whether it’s from your salary or a rich boy throwing a tantrum.

The next day in class, a bag slams down the seat beside you, and you’re met with the same rich boy from last night, a scowl painting his rather pretty face as he hisses lowly about how he’s surprised you can afford to go to college. Talk about holding a grudge, you would’ve forgotten all about him from last night if he hadn’t given you his change.

He fumes even more when you don’t give him any sort of reaction, merely nodding your head at him and turning back to the board to listen to your professor drone on about this and that. It’s rather difficult to focus, however, when he keeps muttering sarcastic comments and barbs to the teacher beneath his breath.

“If you even had an iota of charm about you, perhaps your wife wouldn’t have filed for a divorce.”

You choked on a laugh, hand coming up muffle the sound, but he clearly noticed, judging by the way he snaps his head to you, eyes wide and seemingly surprised you found it funny. You only smile at him, an amused little thing, but he quickly looked away and murmured something unintelligible beneath his breath, his fists clenched and the tips of his ears curiously pink.

He comes back to visit your job that night, still with that air of haughtiness about him but a bit toned down. Even more surprising was the fact he didn’t immediately leave the moment he handed you his money.

“Do you want the change?”

“Are you so desperate for money that you’d go begging a total stranger for some spare coin?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess.”

“Tch, fine. You can have it.”

He never fails to come back every night, always giving you the change for his bill, even when the amount is more than the items he paid for. Sometimes, he’ll even take out a snack or a drink from the bag and slide them over to you, cheeks suspiciously red as he did so.

“Don’t think this means anything. I’m only giving this to you because I know you can’t afford it.”

“It’s literally worth ten mora.”

“Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you?”

“Thank you, Kunikuzushi. I’ll be sure to treasure this can of cola that I would’ve never been able to afford without your help.”

“Shut up.”

He buys you a tub of ice cream the next night, the ridiculously expensive kind, to prove a point. The two of you eat it together at one of the tables, him grumbling about the stain on the table and the overall lack of quality and taste — at a 7-eleven — and you laughing whatever he says.

Well, you suppose he’s not as much of an asshole as you initially assumed.

VENTI

He’s a bit popular in campus, in the sense that nearly everyone is friends with him, which makes it impossible not to have heard about that one guy who’s really great at singing. You were, unfortunately, one of the few that aren’t well acquainted with him — aren’t acquainted with him at all.

So when he comes up to the counter, all boyish grin and ridiculously short shorts and a cute little pink hair clip keeping his bangs away from his face, holding an entire household’s worth of vodka and wine, you do what any rational semi-adult would do and look at him with a blank face.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

He laughs at you like this is a common occurrence he faces on the daily before slapping down his ID on the counter. And huh, would you look at that, he’s even older than you are.

He then lights up once he gets a good look at you. “Hey, you’re Albedo’s friend, aren’t you?” He abandons his alcohol at the counter in favor of looking around your quaint little convenient store. “So this is that 7-eleven he keeps talking about…”

You’re not exactly sure what he’s going on about, but you do know he must be a friend of Albedo’s, which makes you ease up around him. He’s nice. Sort of. If you ignore the teasing and the jokes and the way he keeps asking you to give him a student discount. For alcohol. You’d given him what you hoped was your best imitation of Kunikuzushi’s stink eye. You think you got it on point, if the way he deflates is any indication.

He comes around the store every weekend, saying he’s here to get a little treat for the awful weekday he’s had. You never fail to remind him that he has class every Sunday, to which he responds by opening a can of beer (which he hasn’t paid for yet) and sitting on the counter, bemoaning the injustice of putting classes during the weekends.

You once asked him why he keeps hanging around this store when there’s a perfectly good bar right around the corner, owned by that popular red-haired business major from your university. Venti just laughed and said he prefers the quietness here — and the company, he added with a wag of his eyebrows. He always teases you, sometimes borderline flirting, but it’s easy enough to wave it away.

The day you discovered he was actually well known in campus was when your university hosted a local event. There’d been stalls and booths set up everywhere and even a little mock-stage put up near the center for any band or singer to perform in. It’d been nice to have a break from the monotonous routine of going to class and studying then working at your job and getting less than ideal sleep.

And then you heard your name booming out from the speakers, and you turn your head to see Venti on the stage with that little lyre he sometimes carries with him to the store, saying he’d like your opinion on a song or two he composed.

He dedicates the song to you in front of the entire student body, then proceeds to sing the cheesiest, most gut-wrenching and cringiest love song of all time.

“Why did you have to pick that song?”

“Because it’s fun and cute!”

“I sometimes question your ability to distinguish cute from horrifyingly monstrous.”

There’s a mortified look on your face, but amidst the embarrassment and the teasing remarks of his friends, there’s a smile on your face that you can’t bring yourself to wipe away.

i’ll be doing a part two on this but with diluc, dottore, kazuha, xiao, and zhongli!

@maehemthemisfit @sonder-paradise @96jnie @komiyaa @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @serramii @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss @scarasbaby

[rafesfavgirl]

with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[rosesaints]

hello i saw ur yuuta piece and loved how u write !! could u write smth similar perhaps for megumi 🤧🤧 he needs more love .. 🍀

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟcollege student!megumi fushiguro hc dump

pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!reader warnings: 18+ mdni, mix of sfw and nsfw content under the cut, a very obscenely american depiction of college, just me pouring my heart out to the most perfect underrated college bf ever. wc: 1300

college student!megumi fushiguro who enrolls in university as a biology major, minoring in english on the pre-veterinarian track, carefully selecting his college after agonizing over whether or not he wanted to be a writer or a vet, ultimately choosing the latter after an impressive tour of a research lab with leaders on the field who eagerly and enthusiastically answer every single one of his questions, no matter how miniscule or thorough. goes home with a stupid grin on his face that yuuji won't stop taking pictures of—"yuuji, would you chill the fuck out? it was just a college tour."

college student!megumi fushiguro goes home and quickly accepts his offer, orders two sweaters from the university's online tour, visits tsumiki at the hospital and tells her all about where he plans to go for the next four years.

college student!megumi fushiguro who has a very, very eventful freshman year—

he takes public transport around campus, has an old, beaten up pair of headphones that he probably got from thrifting, listens to beach house, cocteau twins, the neighbourhood, cigarettes after sex, sometimes songs that nobara and yuuji have recommended to him in the groupchat. acts like the brooding, silent type, until you accidentally knock into him during a nasty bump on the road, and he very quickly loses his composure and helps you out, beats himself up afterwards for not getting your name

finds you later at his biology lab, pleasantly surprised and trying to force down any visible signs of excitement when you get paired together for the rest of the semester. lets you take his phone without any fuss to type your number down, keeps the heart you've left besides your name and texts you that night to make plans to go on a date work on the lab report due that week

mentions you offhandedly during the debrief dinner he has at least a couple times a week with yuuji and nobara, frowns when they freeze and look at each other in that skitterish, excited way that they do when they're in on something together. "megumi, you never, ever talk about girls!"

he finds every excuse to see you outside of class. "damn, i guess we're gonna have to work on the report later, i'll see you at 6?" or "i think we need to talk about the objectives over some lunch at this new sushi place in town, anyway—"

you go along with it because it's so painfully obvious, but you don't have the heart to break whatever cool guy, aloof persona he's kind of determined to uphold (megumi, please, for the love of god, just learn how to ask someone out on a date)

he works hard to find new places he thinks you'll like and at some point, you guys just stop working on reports altogether and just start having fun around campus

sends you game pigeon texts throughout the day, lets you win at 8ball, but never, ever backs down from word hunt. he will score 30k points over you and not break a sweat.

rolls up his lab coat once in class and your brain short-circuits, man has an insane sleeper build, grabs your microscope slides for you and easily returns your microscope for you. "you okay?" "yup! completely and totally fine!"

i cannot stress enough how oblivious he is, though. you guys go to parties together, he grabs your drinks for you, holds your waist when someone gets too rowdy, and leave together. somehow, this man still thinks you don't reciprocate his feelings.

he wants to confess, he does, but there's all these logistics and things he has to plan for, has to do it in just the right way, at the right place, wracks his head at night trying to think of a way to just tell you. yuuji calls him fucking stupid one night and for once, he agrees.

gets too busy fussing and concerning over what he would do when the time comes, doesn't even stop and consider the fact that you might just beat him to it!

"'gumi," he literally has his head on your lap while he's doing an assigned reading for class, and it's probably one of the most peaceful days he's had in a while, but the way you smile and say his name makes his heart skip a beat. "wanna go out with me?"

man, it's like the floodgates open after that. he gets so much more direct and confident—"we're gonna go volunteer at that animal shelter this weekend," and "i'm picking you up for dinner, is chinese okay?"

not the type for public displays of affection, but makes sure you're in his orbit all the time, somehow. glances across the lab when your professor blunders in the middle of the lecture, a hand on the small of your back while he maneuvers you through the street, places his hand above yours on the train while you're holding onto the pole

takes photos of you all the time, has a collection of different cameras, makes yuuji take photos of you and him on nights out with the disposable camera, photos of you looking absolutely adorable on the digital camera, and dumb, funny photos of you that you hate but he loves

nights spent at his dorm watching trashy reality shows (he acts like he doesn't give a shit but gasps louder than you whenever someone gets slapped), studying for your next exam only to end up making out on the floor, cooking ramen noodles just to end up making out on his twin bed, getting ready together and making out when he hoists you up to the counter and knocks all his (and your) shit over. "gumi, i still have toothpaste in my mouth—" "hm, i like mint."

loves loves loves to kiss you. will have hours-long make out sessions in his dorm or yours, will keep going even if your roommate walks in, doesn't even register their presence—too focused on whatever flavor of lip gloss you've got on or that cute top you're wearing that day

his second favorite thing to do is to leave marks in places only he can see. doesn't mean to do that, he swears, but you can see a ghost of a smile when he helps readjust the straps of your dress to hide a blooming hickey on your shoulder.

has this dumbstruck look on his face when you have sex for the first time, gasps and grips your ass with a strength that you were only vaguely aware of when you sink down on his length for the first time, low groans and narrowed eyes. "god, i think you're gonna kill me."

slowly ends up being the one to control the pace, bouncing you up and down on his dick for his own pleasure, even as you're squealing and scratching his back and deliriously trying to thrust back, only to be overpowered

could eat you out for hours, but also loooooves receiving head, loves the way your eyes shimmer when you take him deeper into your throat, the gagging, lewd noises that you make and the way you look up at him, asking if that was good. "that was fucking amazing. 10/10, no notes."

remember how he takes photos of you all the time? he has some polaroids of you in some.... scandalous positions hidden in his drawer that he likes to... use in times of desperation

doesn't initiate a whole lot at the beginning because he's still in the "learning phase," but once he gets you to cum within two minutes, it brings out his competitive spirit. "wonder how many more times you can cum again... think you got another two in you?"

basically living together by the end of the year, because he sleeps better when you're near and his whole dorm is littered with mementos that remind him of you. has that coffee blend you love in his kitchen cabinet, your toothbrush on the other side of his, and when he comes back from lecture to see your smiling face hanging upside down from his futon, thinks he might just want to spend the rest of his life with you.

© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. requests are OPEN .ᐟ

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hii can you pls do a nanami and gojo(separately) make out fic pls??

Okay, let's do this with a little twist...

Getting caught while making out with JJK men

Pairings: Geto x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Warnings: well, it's getting heated babes, not 100% proofread because I wrote this in my work break (again lol)

Geto Suguru

You know how wrong it is. This is not the right time, not the right place to stand in a lonely corner with Geto Suguru’s hands all over you and his lips hanging onto yours like you’re air and he cannot breathe.

“Fuck, we should get going”, you whimper into the lonely hallway.

In fact, getting going is the last thing you want to do right now. Not when Riko is busy saying goodbye to her former life, not when your emotions are all over the place. You hid your feelings towards Suguru for so long, tried to convince yourself over and over that you don’t hold those kinds of feelings towards him. But when he allowed Riko some privacy, when you saw the glimmer in his dark eyes shimmering down at you…

You were lost.

And you lose over and over again with his lips worshipping yours like no one did before, with him pressing you against a nearby wall. Countless nights, you pondered about the way it might feel to get hold like this, to actually feel him this close. But reality? Way too bittersweet, way better than anything you could have ever imagined.

“I don’t want to leave you ever again”, he mumbles against your parted mouth before starting a dangerous dance with both of your tongues intertwined.

That man who pierced through Satoru could be here every time, you need to fulfill this mission, need to concentrate on escorting Riko to Tengen-sama. After all, this might be the only purpose you have here at Jujutsu High: Completing missions after missions, doing as you were told.

No, fuck that.

This right here is what you live for. The sensation of Suguru hollering over you like a shadow, of him holding you like no one did before, putting together all your broken pieces.

“I love you”, you finally hush.

“I think I always did.”

“I feel the same way, (y/n). God, I adore you more than anything else.”

Just when you thought your kiss couldn’t get any deeper, couldn’t make you lose your breath even more, he grabs your chin in order to gain better access of your mouth. Now you’re all yours, whimpering under his touch like a little girl.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, allow your fingertips to grab his soft hair for hold.

“Huh, really didn’t expect to find ya here like that. Well, having fun before dying isn’t a crime, ya know.”

Your blood freezes instantly as you pull away and get greeted by the coldest green eyes you’ve ever seen. The man who fought against, Satoru. Without any doubt.

But…You eye him up and down, blood sticking onto his tight shirt without a visible wound.

Where’s Satoru?

“Leave her alone”, Suguru instructs the man seriously while positioning himself in front of you.

“You’re better off protecting ya little girlfriend from me. She’s cute. Maybe I’ll take her on a date when I killed you.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Your heart drops to the floor, Suguru’s widened eyes revealing the urgency of this situation all too urgently. Out of all people who could have caught both of you this vulnerable, why on earth does it have to be him? There is no way Suguru will allow you to stay here while that stranger now knows…

“She’s your weakness, isn’t she? Maybe I can teach you a lesson about how freaking dumb love is.”

“Get Riko and escort her to Tengen-sama as fast as possible, (y/n)”, Suguru speaks out firmly while your eyes make contact.

“I can’t leave you here alone, if he defeated Satoru-“

He doesn’t interrupt you with words. No, instead he pulls you close, presses his puffy lips against yours until you feel like drowning in emotions.

“Get going. I don’t want this to be the last time someone caught us together.”

Gojo Satoru

“Get away from me right now.”

Oh, how desperately you try to sound angry while the truth is, that you want Gojo Satoru as close as possible. Your eyes dart left and right, search for the unpromising opportunity that somebody catches you in this position.

This position.

You, caged between Satoru’s arms in the male dorm you aren’t even allowed in, to be exact.

“C’mon, you don’t want me to get away from you. After teasing me the whole day and giving me that looks, you want me to go? Try better next time, princess”, he teases you while throwing his sunglasses to the ground without thinking twice.

“If we get caught here by a teacher…I can’t afford bad reputation, Satoru! What would my parents think, what if I get grounded, what if-“

“I know something better than using that mouth for hysteric talking”, he purrs with his face drawing closer and closer.

“Please, you aren’t even listening to me!”

A mix of panic, excitement and desire rushes through your veins, makes your eyes widen in sheer horror.

If your parents find out you were caught with a boy while actually, you are supposed to be a good student, you’ll be screwed. Especially when they found out which boy you were making out with…

Even though Gojo Satoru is considered the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of your timeline, your parents seem to hate him to the core.

“I don’t care that he’s your classmate. If you ever get involved with him more than necessary, you will leave this school without a second chance.”

You swallow hard. No, there is absolutely no doubt in the fact that your father made his point very clear.

But Satoru does as well. When he wraps his arms around your waist, he catches you just in time before your wobbly knees give in. No boy ever touched you like that, no other boy ever swept you off your feet like that. The butterflies in your stomach become almost unbearable while you can’t help but stare at his eyes.

Those oh so gorgeous eyes.

“I don’t want to hide my feelings for you any longer. Fuck your parents, fuck their threats. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.”

You let out your shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding.

And then your lips collide with his. Slowly and sweet at first until your very own longing becomes too much. You grab his back, pull him closer, allow him to access your mouth. He tastes like your favorite chewing gum and strawberries, so sweet that you cannot escape. Longingly, you allow him to suck on your bottom lip until a whimper escapes your lips. This is so much better than you ever imagined, so much sweeter than you ever dreamed of. There will never be a boy apart from Satoru who sweeps you off your feet like this, who makes you feel this way.

“Out of all boys, why does it have to be him, (y/n)?”

Your heart drops so suddenly that you feel like dying right on the spot. That low voice you know so well by now, that low voice that means nothing but trouble at the moment.

“S-sir…Yaga-sama I…I”

You fail to find the right words. In fact, all you are able to do is staring at him with glossy eyes and messy hair that reveal oh too painfully what you just did.

You crossed the line you promised your father not to. You came to the boy’s dorms even though you aren’t allowed to. And you got caught by your teacher doing so.

“Why does a nice girl like you waste her time with trash like Gojo?”, he continues.

“C’mon, you don’t have to be this me-“

“Please don’t tell my father!”

You let yourself drop to the floor, your head resting on top of your hands.

“I know it’s not my place to ask for something like that. But if you do…I will have to leave Jujutsu High.”

Thick silence hangs in the air, so quiet that you’re able to hear your tears fall onto the ground. You shouldn’t see Satoru anymore, should end this relationship before it started.

But truth is…you love him. Despite all the differences and your father’s hatred towards him, you love Satoru. You don’t want to leave him and Jujutsu High, you can’t stand the sheer fact of never seeing him again.

Still, it���s Yaga-sama’s job to inform your parents about your behavior, that you were caught in the boy’s dorm. And from there on there is no way out for you, no way to escape this fate.

“What are you talking about, (y/n)?”

Your teary eyes dart towards him immediately while you have to blink a few times in order to process what he just said.

“You caught me in the boy’s dorm with Satoru. It is your responsibility to inform my parents about that”, you reply with shaky voice.

“And risking that you’ll have to leave Jujutsu High? You’re the only useful student of this year and probably the only one who is able to tame this idiot down. I didn’t see anything today.”

“I am not an idiot”, Satoru protests with a sly grin.

“You can call yourself lucky a girl like (y/n) decided to keep up with you. I hope you won’t hurt her, Satoru. Or else, I might tell her father about it.”

And with that, he turns on his heels and walks aways as noiseless as he came, leaving both Satoru and you standing there bamboozled.

“So…what’s the worst your father would do to me?”

“Oh, he’d totally kill you if he found we made out”, you reply instantly.

Nanami Kento

“I might be gone for a few days, darling.”

Gently, he caresses your back the way he knows you adore it while wearing a saddened expression on your face.

“What mission takes a few days? Why aren’t they sending Gojo like they always do?”, you question with a pout.

You weren’t really able to meet up with your boyfriend Kento for what feels like ages. During work here at Jujutsu High, you aim to be professional, to not show each other affection. After all, this is your job and both of you take that very seriously. But now that you haven’t really seen each other after works for weeks, you can’t escape the urge to simply hug him, to feel his warmth and take in his masculine scent.

Kento breathes out audibly while stroking your hair. Truth is, he misses you like crazy. Despite his desperate attempts to stay away from you at Jujutsu High, he finds himself wrapping his arms around you as well.

“This is something serious. I can’t let the students go out on their own”, he mumbles against your forehead before placing a gentle kiss onto it.

Your stomach drops in excitement immediately. After weeks without affection, just a tiny kiss on your forehead seems to be enough to drive you wild.

“I get that. It just frustrates me a little”, you reply.

When your eyes find his, they are clouded by a feeling you know all too well. Time stands still when his grip around you tightens and his gaze drifts towards your lips. Your oh so longing lips that cannot wait to get kissed.

Without hesitation, you close the tiny gap between both of you. Even though you’re standing in the middle of a classroom at Jujutsu High, even though you both agreed on keeping your relationship out of work life.

You simply can’t right now. A swift motion is enough for him to lift you off the ground with ease while pressing your back against the cool wall. A whimper escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it, all senses directed towards him with your eyes closed by the sheer sensation.

“I missed you so much”, he breathes against your lips before continuing his sweet torture.

“Missed you as well…so…much…”

You allow your hungry hands to re-discover the valleys of his muscular back, his broad shoulders, his oh so perfect face. How are you supposed to stay away from a man like him longer than a few hours? Him with his character of gold, body of steel and brain?

“Nanami-sensei, I-…Oh.”

Your eyes dart open immediately and find a utterly surprised Yuji Itadori staring at you with his mouth open.

“Yuji, what are you doing here?”, you mumble while picking on your messy clothes in the most awkward way.

“Why didn’t I know that you two are a thing?”, the pink-haired boy continues, ignoring your lousy attempt to distract.

“Because this is our private life. Why are you here, Itadori-kun?”, Nanami replies in all seriousness.

“But…That’s awesome! You two go so well together! And I always thought that (y/n)-san is totally into you!”

“Watch your words, Itadori.”

“Yuji, can you please just…leave?”, you literally beg.

“Oh yeah, of course.”

“Wait, Itadori”, Nanami instructs the boy just when he’s about to leave the room.

“Don’t you dare to tell Kugisaki about anything you saw today.”

Yuji blinks a few times before nodding and leaving the room with a smile.

“He will totally tell her everything. You know that, right?”, you comment, still trying to catch your breath.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Tags:

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@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

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@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

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@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa

[mnnuni]

Domestic

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean's perspective of Sam and Reader's relationship; Sam and Reader are two cutie patooties Words: 1450 Warnings: none, very fluffy Author's note: I actually don't know if I love this or I hate it

A solid faithful relationship into the hunters' field was almost rare: if they were married they were either consummed for loss or full of affairs and if they had boyfriends or girlfriends they will fight for the distance or the different visions of life. And then there was the rarity, the true love cases, the one in which they would share their life of hunters as easily as a piece of bread.

Dean Winchester never really believed in those rareness, never really believed in love in general... that was untill he really saw Sam and (Y/N) together.

Their love started slowly, it was one of that things that people would say "we already knew" when they eventually announced their relationship.

Dean was convinced that Sam's heart decided from the very beginning of their story that he would beat out of his ribcage only for her in his entire life; Dean saw it in the way Sam didn't just pass (Y/N) the milk and sugar for her coffee for her second cup of that day on their first case together, but he put them in her mug while she read out loud some articles for Dean. Sam didn't put much thougth in that action, but when she realized (Y/N) blushed because he remebred the exact order and amount of products she used after only one time.

But Dean also knew that he approved of their relationship when it was him that proposed to Sam to pick the impala and take (Y/N) somewhere special, just because she deserved all the effort his brother could put in a date and even more. Sam wasn't so surprised about that because he also saw how Dean had grown fond of (Y/N), to the point she was the only girl ever that didn't receive the "hurt my brother and I will end you" speech but it was the other way around.

When (Y/N) confined in Dean one night he really wasn't expecting what she was telling him, after more than an year of being officially with Sam.

"I know he loves me" that was her premise, and Dean could have screamed "WE ALL KNOW" but he let her keep going "but sometimes i whish things were easier" at this the Whinchester quirked an eyebrow and Y/N started rumbling then "I'm not saying it isn't easy with Sam, I just want to say that ... there's never a period of peace in our kind of lifes and we all accepted this when we decided to be hunters, but sometimes I find myself of dreaming one night together without running from something or cleaning up eachother scars... I need normality"

Dean knew that this was also Sam's dream, his little brother wanted this since Stanford, but he also knew that both of them needed to hunt because that was what gave them the hope to make the world a better place and the adrenaline that every man and every woman would need to go throu life.

After this conversation with (Y/N), Dean almost ran to Sam to order him to organize something special for his lady; he wasn't surprised to find him already writing a list of things he wanted to do with her, "I know I didn't give her the right amount of attention these past weeks, shoul I go for a picnic or romantic restaurant?". Dean tried not to smile at his answer, even if he really admired how Sam could know how his girlfriend felt withouth even say anithing and his commitment to their relationship; "The picnic is cute, but not for this time of the year. No reastaurant. She needs something calm, be domestic dude"

He left him like this to think of something, he was sure his brother would have find the right thing.

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

The next day Sam was adjusting one of the bunker's biggest room, he bought a projector and a too big amount of movies -even if he thought that he could never do too much for (Y/N)-

He asked Dean to help him put her favorite couch in there and order a lot of her favourite snacks.

Dean was really proud of how Sam behaved with (Y/N) and for (Y/N), never saw him so whipped for no-one.

When (Y/N) got out of her shower, she was ready to jump into Sam's bed and sleep for two days if she could; instead she found Dean in the kitchen with a blindfold in his hands, "I promise, you will lovee what you'll see after this" he winked and then put it on her face.

"I swear to God Dean, if you're tricking me..." they were walking a pat she never did in the bunker "oh please you love me too" "if you think so...", Dean stopped her in front of a purple metal door and took the blindfold off "oh i know so" he whispered and then proceeded to walk away from there.

(Y/N) was left to wonder what the hell was going on when Sam opened said door and smiled "Hi", it had the same emotion he carried during their first date, (Y/N) smiled too and got on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. He grabbed her hand and walked her into the room, she would have cried if she realized sooner everything there was in that room.

"You did all this for me?!"

It was clear in her voice that she was emotional in that moment and Sam hated the fact that she underestimated her value for him, "baby, that's nothing. Perhaps I should have done something sooner when I first started to notice you needed some time alone" "thank you". Sam smiled and gave her a kiss.

When they finally settled onto the couch (Y/N) was analyzing every detail there was in Sam's preparation: he put three blankets on the couch 'cause he knew he was too tall to tall for them both be covered entirely just by one and also added few pillows because (Y/N) loved the fluffy feeling of them while watching a movie; he made a little table with every kind of chips the market sold and four bottles of her favorite soda, on the shelf under it there were two or three packages of cookies too. Sam also organised something like fifteen movies, all divided by genre and number of stars (Y/N) gave them when they first talked about it.

Sam chose the first movie of the night -obviously a musical- and settled next to his girlfriend. She was so fucking happy about all Sam had done for her.

(Y/N) put her head on his chest while Sam's arm was around her shoulders, drawing figures on her arms to make her relax some more.

Dean snuck in after the first two songs of the musical and rested with one shoulder leaned on the doorframe to look at them: they were adorable. At first when they were on their honeymoon phase Dean felt the need to puke every two seconds, but now he loved to look at them from afar and be happy of their happiness

(Y/N) lifted her head to look at Sam: he was so focused on the screen,the lights of the scenes illuminated his face in a way that made his eyes sparkle.

"I love you", she whispered and Sam's face turned instantly. She still blushed when Sam looked at her that way, "and I love you".

Dean didn't see the kiss because he closed the door immediately after his brother said those words, that was another of the things that made Dean root for them: they never said "I love you too", like they had to say it just because or to not be in an embarrassing situation; every time they proclaimed their love for eachother they made sure to let the other know how much they actually loved eachother and how they really believed in what they said with that "I love you".

Sam and (Y/N) watched another movie and a documentary, they finished almost all the chips and sodas. After about the half of the documentary (Y/N) fell asleep snuggled up to Sam, who was massaging her head -he already knew that after one cookie she was about to pass out, so he made sure to get her in the most comfortable position and help with his hands in her hair to allow the sleep to finally set-

Dean never got back in that room, because he knew that they would have fallen asleep eventually. He made himself a burger and drank one too many beers, but it didn't matter because that night Dean too slept so well knowing that his brother and his sister were okay.

[tlouwhore]

modern!ellie headcanons

notes/warnings: pet names used (baby), sfw, loser!ellie a little (i cant help it), no race specific information, androgynous reader

★ she has an insane mug collection thats so strange, when you go to hers for the first time its such a weird thing

"you want something to drink?"

"sure"

and you'll go back to messing with her stuff that she left sprawled across her coffee table until you hear her clomp over and extend her arm, she'll be holding an inconveniently built mug out to you casually

"els, what the fuck is that?"

she tilts her head and furrows her brow, confused at your comment as if its unreasonable to ask why shes handing you a horrifically constructed alien mug thats bound to spill all over you

★ speaking of these mugs, she refuses to get rid of *any* of them. when you guys move in together you're begging her to just get rid of one but she refuses

"els, please. we dont have enough shelves for these, we need normal drinking glasses."

you sigh as the mugs sit across the kitchen counter, shes on one side staring at them while youre on the other side staring at her.

"i cant, i use them all"

she doesn't. she drinks out of one and she only ever drinks water from it. you go back and forth for merely minutes before you throw in the towel and just let her do her thing, if shes happy you dgaf about the normal water glasses.

★ shes a loud ass walker, you will hear her before you see her. you genuinely start to think she's doing it on purpose.

★ she has one belt and its one wrong move from completing snapping in two pieces, there is a literal half inch of material holding it together

★ needs to pet street cats every time she sees them, whenever you point out that they're probably diseased she scoffs

★ tries to pretend shes good at fixing things but has no clue what shes doing—the toilet isnt flushing properly and so she stands about 3 feet from it and stares at it with her weight shifted to one side. she'll have on a tank top on and slacked down carhartt pants engulfing her legs as she nods. she really likes to take care of you so she'll refuse to admit she has no idea what shes doing and when you walk away she looks up "toilet not flushing reddit"

★ she fucks with the twilight franchise but pretends to hate it because it doesn't "look cool"

★ she cant drive, she failed her permit test 3 times and pretends like every other driver on the road is the problem (shes the issue every time)

★ she drives a beat up car or truck, it smells a little funny and the radio gets three stations so you have to rummage through her mass cd collection to find something to listen to. half the cds wont even be in their case but instead haphazardly chucked around her car in random spots. the only ones she keeps in order are your cds, which have a specific bag so you don't have to scurry about in her car to find them.

★ 3 pairs of socks and they all have holes in them, she'll complain that the floor is cold all the time

"god the floor is so cold in here"

"can you just put some socks on?"

"i'm wearing socks right now"

"oh really?"

and she'll point as her feet, half her toes are out and her heel is fully exposed. its about the same as just wearing no socks at some point. you'll just stare in disbelief for a moment before scoffing.

"what'd you do that for?"

that small crease between her brows finding its way to her face as it always does.

"you're barely wearing socks"

"oh whatever"

★ has to physically restrain herself from telling you the gift she bought you for any holiday or event, shes tweaking out and cant function until she gives it to you

★ she loves to just be in your presence, she'll observe your routines. she enjoys perching next to you as you get ready, no matter how short or long or a routine she will be by your side

★ she can cook a crazy burger but that's literally all she can make

★ shes a blushing mess for you but she loves to get cocky and pretend she isn't when texting you

★ needy and will message you thirst trap ass photos in an attempt to get you to leave work early and be with her (it works)