#i’ll whip you over my shoulder so quick you won’t be able to even get to the ‘c’ of your abcs

[deus-ex-mona]

ok but. looking at yujiro’s nonexistent a(.)b(.)s(ecret), i think i could take him on 1v1 ezpz

[atinylittlepain]

Love the Unexpected Universe. Dad!Joel is life, could I please request a sweet fluff piece of just Joel on a day out with baby Miller? Just exploring, carrying baby on his shoulders and being an absolute girl dad. I just need this man to have a day filled with peace and love!

first of all, i am so sorry for my tardy response to your request, sweet anon, i hope some fluffy dad!joel can make up for it <3

Unexpected Circumstances

dad!joel x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

warnings | 18+ mostly for some angst, but overall this is very sweet

a/n | obviously, this takes place in my Expectings universe :)

..........................

“You sure you’ll be ok? I can ask someone to cover my shift.”

“We’re gonna be fine, mama. I’ve got her.”

“Alright, um, well, I’ll be home before dinner, and Ellie can help out after school–” He ducks down to silence her with a smacking kiss, leaving her with an easy smile as he hoists Libby on his hip.

“I’ve got it, ok? All you need to worry about is coming home safe to us.” Though she still looks hesitant, she nods, leaning in to press a kiss to Libby’s cheek before quietly murmuring to her.

“Hi, baby, mama’s gotta go for a little while, but I’ll be back so, so soon. And daddy’s gonna be here with you all day, does that sound good?” Their girl’s brow crumples at that, somewhere between confusion and despair. She is only two after all, but she’s whip-smart enough to understand that her mama is leaving for the day.

“You gotta be good for daddy, Libby, alright? I love you so much, baby. Gonna be back so soon you won’t even know I was gone.” Fat chance of that. Joel holds that comment back, rocking their girl lightly as the first cries start to break in her tiny lungs.

“Darlin, you ain’t ever gonna get out the door at this rate. Go, and just, be safe, please.” She looks completely torn, eyes glancing between him and Libby’s pinched face, though she does finally go, stealing a quick kiss from him and laying one on the top of their girl’s head before she slips out the front door. And the instant the door clicks shut, Libby lets out a dizzying scream of what sounds like the word mama, her tiny fists beating against Joel’s chest. If he didn’t have hearing loss before, he certainly will now.

It’s not that he hasn’t had sole Libby duty before, it’s just that it’s a bit rare. They had worked out a decent childcare rotation, and now that Libby’s two, they’ve also started taking her to the community daycare. But a perfect storm of unexpected circumstances has left Joel as the only person able to look after her today. While his woman has a patrol shift, daycare has been shut down until further notice due to a stomach bug traveling around in little bodies, and Tommy and Maria are both busy with town council work. And Joel, well, he happens to have the day off.

He’s got this. Hell, he did it everyday with Sarah. But she had been a daddy’s girl, through and through. And judging by the way Libby’s wailing in his ear right now, this girl is at least a little more partial to her mama. 

“Easy, easy, baby girl. You and me are gonna have a good day, huh? Don’t cry, baby, please? How about we go see the horses? You love the horses.” At that, she calms herself down just enough to let out a shuddering “h-h-horses?” Joel can’t help but smile as she looks up at him, watery eyes and a wobbly lip, her hand fisted in the collar of his flannel.

“Yeah, baby, let’s get some food in you and then we’ll go see them.” 

With most of a bowl of oatmeal in her stomach (and some drying on his shirt) he manages to get his girl out the door, her hand engulfed in his much larger one as he lets her lead the way. He’s going to have a crook in his neck with the way he has to hunch over to let her walk alongside him with her hand in his, but she had been rather insistent on doing it herself, and if there’s one thing he’s certain of, it’s that she’s just as stubborn as her mama. 

She’s all smiles now, pointing at things they pass, naming what she can, always looking up to him for confirmation that he’s happy to give with a nod and a grin. Something like pride swells big and warm in his chest when they pass other people, his girl giving them waves and greetings that they reciprocate in kind, offering a smile to Joel as well. To be a part of this pure goodness is a privilege he didn’t think he’d ever get again, and he finds himself smiling back at folks, an easy “g’morning” offered to their own greetings. 

The spring colts are out in the pen when they get to the stables, and Libby’s eyes go wide, tugging on his arm to hurry them along toward the fence. He hoists her up onto his hip so she can get a better look over the pen, a shriek of a giggle leaving her when one of the horses throws its head back in a whinny. 

“You wanna get a little closer, baby girl?” He swears the look she gives him should be coming from a teenager, the pinch of her brow a total uh, yes, duh expression that he has to chuckle at. 

Before he takes her into the pen, he grabs a pail of feed, setting Libby down and guiding her over to the gate with a hand on her back. There’s three horses in the pen, and none of them pay them much mind as they step inside, too busy soaking up the morning sun and stretching their legs in a lazy waltz. But when one of the colts takes notice of them, and the pail Joel is holding in one hand, it starts to nose closer to where they’re standing. And the closer it gets, the tighter Libby’s grip on his hand becomes until she shuffles behind his legs with a disconcerted whimper, pressing her face into his jeans and wrapping her arms around his thigh. 

“There’s nothing to be scared of, baby. They’re just hungry, that's all. Here, watch.” He gently untangles her from his pant leg, kneeling down next to her with a reassuring palm on her back as he takes a handful of grain from the pail and holds it out to the young horse. The colt takes another step forward, hoovering the grain up from Joel’s palm in no time flat. 

“Oh, daddy, I try?” He grins at her eager question and wide eyes, letting her step in front him to grab a handful of grain.

“That’s it, baby girl. Now hold your hand out flat like this.” He guides her hand out with his own, keeping his other hand on her shoulder. Though she takes a nervous step back into him when the horse comes closer, he holds her steady, murmuring that it’s alright, that he won’t let anything bad happen to her. And the giggle she lets out when the horse does snuffle at her palm might be the best sound he’s ever heard. 

He catches flickers of Sarah in her, in laughs, or particularly sassy looks, and it’s the sweetest pain he’s ever felt, love that grows not in spite of, but because of the memories. His girls, all three of them, and the way they run laps around his heart.

…

She’s not sure what she was expecting to find when she returned home that evening, but this certainly wasn’t it. Coming through the backdoor and into the kitchen, she sees veggies and other ingredients prepped and ready on the counter for dinner, an admitted relief and surprise knowing that it was Joel “chef boyardee doesn’t expire” Miller who most likely did it. But it’s when she steps into the living room that any weariness is replaced by a thrumming warmth in her chest at the sight she finds. Joel is out cold on the couch, head resting on one armrest and ankles propped up on the other, a light snore coming from his parted lips. And laying on his chest, his arms wrapped firm around her, is Libby, as equally conked out as her dad, cheek smushed against his shoulder.

As quietly as she can, she pads over to the couch, kneeling down and bringing a light palm to brush Libby’s hair out of her face, her girl stirring a bit before her eyes squint open. 

“Mama?” It’s so quiet, so small that she’d like to tuck the sound of that word somewhere between her ribs, something sweet to hold onto forever.

“Hi, baby, told you I’d be back in no time. Did you have a good day with daddy?” Not answering, Libby simply starts to squirm in Joel’s hold, though he still doesn’t stir. But when she presses her little palms into his chest to push herself up, kneeing him in the stomach along the way, Joel wakes with a start and a hard oof, his head whipping around to figure out what the hell is going on. With Libby already scrambling into her lap, she offers him a smile, bringing her hand to rub circles over his chest where she knows his heart is probably racing right now.

“Hey, darlin, you’re back.” The tired rasp of his voice has her smile broadening into a grin, one hand rubbing up and down Libby’s back where she’s clung to her torso, and the other seeking out Joel’s hand, tangling their fingers together with a squeeze.

“Looks like you two wore yourselves out today.” 

“I seed horses, mama.” Libby’s face peeks out from where she had been hiding in her neck, eyes wide and cheeks rounded by her grin.

“You saw the horses? That’s awesome, Libs.” 

“She fed them too. This one was extra brave, weren’t you, baby?” Joel sits up with a groan, swinging his legs off the couch and leaning his elbows on his thighs as he speaks. To her surprise, and just a touch to her chagrin, Libby starts squirreling in her lap, craning around and reaching out for Joel who’s more than happy to take her up into his arms, sitting her down on his thigh. 

“Brave, daddy.” Joel grins at their girl, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek that sets her giggling. She can’t help musing to herself that Libby might have found a new favorite. 

“Did Ellie help out?”

“Nah, I told her she could go hang out with Dina. We had it under control, right, my girl?” Libby nods her head rather seriously at Joel’s words, making them both chuckle at her quick agreement. 

“Hmm, looks like it. How about I get started on dinner then since you guys already got it all set up?” With that, Libby climbs up Joel to stand on his thigh, another oof drawing out of him as she jumps down off his leg and into her lap, just a tad too big for it to not knock the wind out of her as she wraps her arms around her neck.

“I help-ded, mama.” She glances over the top of Libby’s head at Joel, who just smiles and nods.

“Libs supervised, I chopped.” Libby nods, her hand reaching out to rest on Joel’s knee.

“Super eyes, daddy?” 

“Something like that, baby. Why don’t you go get cleaned up with your mama? I’ll get dinner started.”

…

“I have to admit, I’m impressed.” 

“Well don’t sound so surprised, darlin.” She grins at him around her toothbrush, eyes meeting his in the bathroom mirror. While he had handled Libby well on his own, they certainly make a better team of taking care of their girl, dinner free of tears or tantrums, easily passing her between each other in the midst of stirred pots and chopped vegetables, Ellie coming home somewhere in the middle of it and taking Libby out in the backyard to play before they ate. It’s not that they’ve made a point of it, sitting down together every night for a meal, but they certainly try to, and it happens to be his favorite part of the day. They’re all safe, they’re all fed, and they’re all home, a relief and a reassurance that he knows matters as much to her as it does to him. 

“So I did good, huh?” He can’t help himself, his grin going crooked as he leans against the bathroom counter to look at her. 

“She still has all her limbs, no blunt force head trauma, and she passed out the minute I put her down for the night. Yeah, I’d say you did good.” She swallows his laugh with a kiss, stepping closer and resting her palms on his chest. 

“Thank you, Joel. You know it’s not that I’m worried about you. I just– well, I just–” 

“Worry about her. I know, I do too. But our girl is pretty fucking amazing, don’t you think?” 

“She is, she really is. But don’t go turning her into a daddy’s girl now. Horses, Joel, really? That’s just playing to the crowd.” Her easy smile tells him that she’s only a little serious about what she says, head tilted at him. 

“Oh please, you would’ve done the same if you had her wailing in your ear. Wouldn’t stop crying when you left, darlin.” 

“Is it bad that hearing that makes me feel a little better?” Instead of answering her question, he steals another kiss from her, his hands cupping her face, feeling the arc of her cheeks as she grins into it.

“If our girl is gonna have a favorite, I don’t mind it being you.”

[rallentando1011]

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 2833

“Where in the actual heck did you lead me?”

“Trying to figure that out right now. How many turns have you taken?”

“You mean to the left or right?” you inquired cautiously, steps splashing in the shallow water of the sewer tunnel you currently found yourself in. You thought that since you had taken this exact same path literally yesterday you might remember the way. Well, you thought wrong, which was why you called up the man you were on your way to meet for assistance.

Donnie huffed over the phone. “Both, preferably. Why would you go traversing through a complex labyrinth of a sewer system, not knowing where you’re going, and not keeping track of where you’ve gone?”

“Uhh, misguided faith in myself?”

“Eh. Fair enough. I’ll send auxiliary support your way.”

“‘Auxiliary support?’ What is that supposed to-”

Before you could even finish your thought, not to mention get a response, the call ended.

You gaped. Either the signal cut out, which was feasible in the sewers, or he ended the call. For Donnie’s sake, he’d better have hoped it was the former.

You froze in the eerie silence and dark, breathing tersely. Your hands hung uncomfortably off your sides, shoulders drawn tight.

What were you supposed to do now?

Well, retracing your steps seemed better than continuing further into uncharted territory. Following that logic, you pivoted and meandered cautiously back from where you came.

The tunnel came upon an especially dark section, so you turned on your phone’s flashlight. Your field of vision was small, but at least you could directly in front of you. Better than nothingness..

Suddenly, a strange noise entered your ears. Some sort of mechanical whirring. It sounded vaguely in front of you, though the reverberation from the tunnels made it hard to discern.

You tensed up again.

What if it was from those goons from last night? Or, even worse, what if it was-

As the source of the odd whirring sound came into view, you paused.

“Ohhhh my goodness…” Your startled reflexes swiftly softened as you registered the little purple drone levitating before you.

A very boop-able beak was on what you assumed to be its face, with petite propellers acting as limbs. Bottom line, it was adorable.

“Woah, how’s it hanging, dude?” the drone greeted. “D told me you got a bit turned around down here, but we’ll get you to the lair real quick.”

“Woah.” You admired the tech, tilting your head at it. “So, am I talking to Donnie or an algorithm right now?”

“Neither! The name’s S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. broski!” it- he introduced himself.

“Huh. Nice to meet you, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.,” you responded and gave your name in return. “Would you mind please showing me to Donnie?”

“No problem!” the drone floated higher excitedly before whipping around. “Follow me. We’ll be back to the lab in a jiff.”

“Thanks!”

You trailed along the polite drone in silence, weaving and wandering through dim channels until he spoke up.

“So, you and D are cool?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You tipped your head down inquisitively. 

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

You barked out a laugh at how abrupt his sass was. “Oh?”

“Yeah! He can be super overbearing sometimes- like, won’t-even-let-me-out-of-the-lair overbearing, you know? He’s gotten better about it, but he can still be way protective.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you offered. The drone did not seem to agree.

“Oh, it can, bro! One time, he padlocked my propellers and I ended up in, like, a gang almost-”

As your conversation trailed off and you two moved, the area around you grew lighter and you found yourself in the empty atrium of the lair. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. guided you up to the second floor, down a dim hallway, and to a stop in front of large, metallic doors as his rant about Donnie came to a close.

“Thanks, little guy. I appreciate the help.” You smiled, and the drone tilted his head and returned the gesture.

“Of course, bro! Just let me know if you get too bored with Donnie. Us cool people can hang out and do something less bogus.”

You chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”

With a small salute, you sent him whirring off.

You turned to face the sturdy-looking doors before you. Just as you moved to rap on them, the doors opened with a heavy sound of air. You took a confused glance to the right, left, before stepping into the lab.

The room consisted mostly of metallic silver hues with tables and shelves stacked up with a plethora of technological treasures. Purple mood lights illuminated the room softly, though it was still a lot more effective than your flashlight was.

Sounds of clinging and clanging proliferated from somewhere behind a shelf. You followed them, expecting to find your companion tinkering on something - perhaps the invention he was researching at the library?

Instead, you turned the corner to see him using the titanium arms that extended from his battle shell to swipe what was probably a literal ton of empty energy drinks off of his desk and into a trash can beside it.

You interrupted his tidying up with a cough to announce your presence.

Startled, he snapped his head back to look at you, his technology not ceasing to clear the irrelevant items from his desk.

“Oh. You made it. Congratulations,” he said, though his monotonous tone did not invoke any sentiment of felicitations.

“Yeah, I made it, little thanks to you.”

“I take it S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. behaved himself?”

“He was an angel.” You put a hand over your heart and walked up to him just as a thought struck you. “By the way, how did you know where to send S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“That is unimportant right now. What matters iiiis-” he paused to gesture to his desk, “-science! Engineering, to be more specific, but we can delve into that more later.”

“Hm.” You leaned over the desk, viewing a highly detailed blueprint and sheet of notes. The thought that he probably  definitely tracked your call faded as you immersed yourself in his work. “You mentioned a prototype of this yesterday?”

“I admire your tenacity, but would you not prefer to discuss the workings of the machine before seeing the results?” he queried.

“Is it not helpful to vary in learning techniques? I’m game for some visual learning.”

“Sigh, if you insist.”

Donnie turned around, delicately grabbed an object from a shelf beside him, set it down on the desk.

The metal object was spherical, for the most part, with some geometric patterns on the bottom to prop it up. It was sizable, though wieldy enough to be portable. On the side of it was an ingrained insignia you’d seen on his other tech, and beside that was an odd yet intentional divot in the side.

“About this prototype for the generator-” Donnie glanced to the side, “it’s been built, but I don’t have the juice for it yet.”

“So you don’t have the energy source for your energy source?”

He deadpanned at your teasing. “It’s a prototype for a reason.” 

“Is that dent where the mystic crystal or whatever is supposed to go?”

“Yes, it is intended to be for a crystal, though I’ll take any viable source I can get. Now, shall we discuss the behind the scenes?”

You nodded.

Before crashing into his own chair, he pulled up a stool for you. Oddly considerate, but you wouldn’t complain.

From talk of sinusoidal waves, frequencies, output and input responses from certain mystic crystals, the conversation went into a plenitude of tangentially related topics, the minutiae of which he had to explain to you, but you got the majority of it. However, such conversation came at a price, for one cannot blab and/or yap for an hour consecutively without obtaining a splitting headache and requiring sustenance.

Eventually, you cleared your throat to get his attention off of the blueprints for the energy source. The turtle met your gaze curiously.

“All this ‘being a genius’ stuff has left me positively parched,” you spoke up, popping the p’s. “You have anything to drink in here? Or is the lair’s kitchen better?”

It felt kind of weird to refer to his residence as a lair, but you were trying.

“This is a laboratory; it would be reprehensible to bring food or beverage in here.”

The two of you glanced down at the miniature trash can adjacent to his desk and the cans overflowing from it.

“Your trash begs to differ.”

He clicked his tongue. “Those cans are empty now, and I don’t have more. We probably have water in the fridge.”

“How about we go somewhere instead? Go for a walk, head to a cafe, get some fresh air. I would prefer not getting lost here again.”

Donnie hummed, tapped his chin.“Not a bad idea. You’re buying, though.”

“Sure!”

He blinked. “I was joking. Of course I’m going to buy my own beverage.”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, hopping up from your seat. “Do you want to grab a coat or something? The wind chill’s bad today.”

“Forcing me out of my lab for food, insisting I prepare for the weather, if I didn’t know better I might say you care about me.” Donnie raised a playful eyebrow.

“Don’t flatter yourself. And I haven’t forced you anywhere. For legal purposes.”

“You can wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.” Donnie hopped up and exited the lab, presumably to get some warmer clothes.

As he slipped out of the room, you traced a finger over the blueprints he had gushed over so adamantly. So much time and effort and knowledge had been poured into every aspect of this project, and that, not to mention the complexity of it, was enough to gain your respect. You pulled out your phone, snapped a quick picture of the paper, not the prototype for now, and slipped it back into your pocket.

You waited for an uncomfortable moment, literally twiddling your thumbs, trying to seem casual. There was a literal trove of things to check out or explore in the room, but you did not know how much time you had. 

And you couldn’t risk getting caught.

So you waited. And waited.

Okay, either Donnie ditched you or he just took forever to get ready.

Thinking back to how late he was to April’s party heavily implied the latter.

After another moment of just standing next to his desk, the sound of footsteps padding closer drew your attention up.

Lo and behold, in the doorway stood Donnie with crossed arms.

His mask and goggles remained the same, steadfast on his head, but he did put on some clothes. A snug black turtleneck and flowy lavender cargo pants had joined the ensemble, though there was still a severe lack of shoes.

“Okay, Steve Jobs.” The comment slipped out of your mouth before you could process it. It came across lightheartedly enough, though, based on Donnie’s grin.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, because that’s going straight up here.” He tapped his index to his temple and started walking out of the lab. You followed after.

“I guess with all that square footage something’s bound to go up there.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

You elbowed

“I’m kidding. Your brain capacity is bound to be maxed out already with all that knowledge.”

“Thanks? That- wasn’t derogatory, right?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re patronizing me?���

“Sort of. I was mostly calling you smart, in a roundabout way.”

“Huh. So, thanks?”

“Welcome.”

You two quickly made your way out of the lair and onto the surface’s streets.

You realized just as quickly that you had no idea where you were headed to.

“Uhh, D?”

“I know. Unless you have other suggestions, I know a place nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, please lead the way. I genuinely had no idea where to go.”

“Ha,” he grinned, taking the lead down a few streets and corridors and bringing you two to a quaint coffee shop. String lights, beige bricks, sleek tables and booths, the store was modern and comely.

Of course, with it being New York City, the line was huge, but this place was concealed well enough that it at least wasn’t down the road.

While waiting in line, you didn’t talk much, instead opting to either scroll on your phones or try to figure out which kind of coffee or tea you wanted.

As you neared the register, still having no idea what you wanted, you passed the small refrigerated shelf of items.

“Oh, I’ve seen these before!” Your attention caught on some bottles of Yakult, so you selected one of the original flavors. “Never tried it though. Want to try it together?”

“Why not?” he grinned uncertainly and flashed a couple of thumbs up.

“That’s the spirit!”

You two made it to the register and ended up buying the probiotic drinks along with a couple of baked goods. Before he could make a move to pay for at least his items, you swooped in and bought them all with an innocent grin.

His glare saw through your unassuming demeanor.

You got your confections and drinks before making your way to an available booth. You took up a seat across from him and tried the new drink.

“I like it.” You nodded. It was citrusy, smooth, overall pleasant to indulge in.

“Oh. Mmmm…” he shuddered, forcing it down with a queasy smile on his face.

“Huh. You hate it,” you observed bemusedly. You relished the panic that washed over him at your comment.

“What? Nooo. This- this is very… not bad,” he faltered under your smug stare.

“It’s fine!” you reassured as you slid his Yakult toward yourself. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it.”

“But-” he interjected, glancing down at the accursed drink, then back up to you. “But you bought it for me. I hardly consider it amiable to discard something that someone else purchased.”

“Well, luckily for us both, it’s not going to waste.”

Before he had the opportunity to ask you to elaborate, you took a long sip of the probiotic beverage. You smiled while doing so, coming face to face with a floored turtle when you set it back down on the table.

He stared numbly at you before stammering out, “I- you- do you have any idea how many germs we just shared?” 

“Oh well,” you shrugged. “Despite the atrocious things that come out of it, I think you have a fairly clean mouth. Now, how about we get you something else to drink? Something that you don’t find atrocious.”

“Fine, but I’ll be paying for it this time.”

You smiled knowingly, hand already fastened on your wallet. “We’ll see.”

The grin stayed smugly planted on your face as you made it to the front counter and slapped your payment down before he could.

“You’re just gonna have to settle with buying next time,” was your response to his scowl.

“Next time?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

You shrugged playfully. “Unless you don’t want to do this again. I’m good either way.”

“Um, no, n-next time’s on me,” he said hesitantly.

“Alright then. Do you want to tell the barista what you want?” you urged, indicating toward a visibly disinterested worker behind the counter.

“Right!” Donnie finally made it back onto this plane of reality and sprung into action, making his selection from the refrigerated section beside the counter.

“Flavorless juice?” Your jaw dropped as he slid it to the worker.

“Uh, yeah? They’ve got the good kind here. 50% less flavor…”

“Okay then…” you opted to judge him silently and let the man enjoy his juice, albeit an atrocious variety of juice.

You started walking back to the booth before a notification on your phone made you pause. Taking it out, your eyes widened.

“Oh, uh, I spent a lot longer with you than I thought I did. Um, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll catch you later?”

“Y-Yeah! Later!”

You left him standing there with a smile and a couple of finger guns before bounding off toward the exit and out of his view.

Once you left his field of vision, he looked back down at his drink. The drink you bought for him. The drink you spent additional time and money on to get for him just because he couldn’t texturally handle the other one you’d bought him.

What you mentioned earlier about doing this again sounded quite nice.

Perhaps, instead of waiting for fate or probability or whatever was at play to cause you to run into each other again, it could be a more active endeavor, something conscious.

That didn’t sound half bad to him.

(chapter artwork HERE)

Taglist~ @rottmntsimp

@envyjmoney

[grace122]

I wrote a little blurb a got kinda carried away 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

You were in the kitchen with sap drinking wine and getting a bit tipsy. This ends up with you guys being all over each other giggling and making out, smiling between kisses until he slips his tongue into your mouth and his hand reaching around to grab your ass under the cute little skirt you were wearing. You moan into his mouth as he gives your ass a tight squeeze. You reach your arms around his neck pulling him closer to your body as your tongues are still battling for dominance. You whimper as he gives your ass a smack as you reach your hands down to his sweats and pull the thread to loosen the pants and pull them down just to his knees and palm his rock hard dick thru his boxers. He groans into your mouth slightly growling as he moves his hand from your ass to your clothed heat moving your pretty panties to the side to reveal your dripping cunt.

He pulls away, grabbing the waistband of his boxers pulling them down just below his ass to whip his cock out giving it a few pumps to relieve some pressure. He grabs you by your hips and lifts you onto the counter causing you to let out a small yelp, spreading your legs apart. He rubs the tip of his cock against your clit causing you to whine and bucking your hips towards his dick wanting it in your pussy already.

He smirks at your neediness continuing to tease you running his dick between your folds. You look up at him pouting trying your best to give him the best puppy eyes to have him give in. He looks at your face and chuckles, “Oh baby, so needy for my cock huh? Don’t worry baby I’ll give you what you want.” And with that he lines his tip up with your entrance and slides in smoothly from how wet your pussy is, basically your cunt swallowing his cock making him groan and he stays still letting you adjust to his size.

He looks up at your face giving you a look asking if he’s good to move. You nod breathing heavily. He pulls out until his tip is only in and gives a hard thrust making both of you moan loudly. He sets a quick pace quickly loving the way your pussy is squeezing his cock. Your foreheads are touching as you both let out loud moans not having a care in the world if anyone walks in on you, sapnap has actually wanted someone to walk in on you guys he always found that idea hot and it’s a secret wet dream that he’s never told anyone and the thought just makes him so horny.

you guys are clinging to each other as if one of you is gonna disappear any moment giving gentle kisses to your lips every now and then. He reaches one of his hands down to your clit rubbing it quick trying to get you close to your orgasm wanting you guys to cum together.

“I-I’m close baby- please c-can I cum? pleah- please” you stutter out extremely close to your climax. “Yes mama cum for me, cum with me” and with that you almost immediately let go cumming all over his cock squeezing him, he cums inside you leaning into your shoulder bitting down on your skin causing you to let out a soft moan.

As you guys are coming down from your highs smiling at each other and kissing while he’s still inside you hear someone come down the stairs and panicky turn your head around to see dream and George looking at you both with both a shocked and a disgusted expression on their face. “Seriously Guys? You couldn’t even go to your room?” Dream groans out disgusted knowing he won’t be able to look at that counter the same.

you turn your head back to sap giggling.

THIS WAS SO LONG OH MY DAYS

HOLYYYY ANON THIS IS AMAZING😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[fullofgutsndopamine]

or: hasan invites you over to carve pumpkins with his kid sister. halloween traditions ensue

not part of a series, but in the same universe as fitps. i don’t know either

tw: cursing,

they/them reader

there’s yelling coming from inside the house.

you can see hasan, a kiss the cook apron tied around his waist, a backwards hat on his head and one oven mitt on, yelling into another room.

but the thing is, the smile never leaves his face.

a deep breath,you fix your hair in the reflection of the door (because this is obviously not a date. just hasan who wanted company while carving pumpkins) and rang the doorbell.

you act like you don’t see his head whip up, fear on his face for a second as he throws the oven mitt on the table, takes his hat off to fix his hair, only to jam it back over his head.

“Don’t answer the door, it could be a stranger-“

you hear him yelling, not even able to finish it as the door freaks open, and his little sister pops her head out.

“are you here to kill us?” she asks in a small voice, and she wears the same smile Hasan has on his face.

“Hi Ames,” you coo. “i don’t think so, not today at least.” you tease back as you kneel on the concrete steps.

“Has, they said they weren’t here to kill us!” she yells over her shoulder, but Hasan is behind her, rolls his eyes.

“Yeah,” he snorts, “I heard. I don’t think a killer would exactly tell us before they kill is though, hmm?”

he tickles her side and she giggles but he keeps going and she squeals into his side until he picks her up, swings her over his shoulder and tickles her as she lays on his shoulder.

“isn’t that right?” he finishes as she giggles over his shoulder.

“Sorry about her,” Hasan's face is lightly pink, “she’s been talking about you all day.”

“that’s not true!” she struggles to be heard over his shoulder, “Hasan was! he said-“

he huffs, and she’s on the ground, a smile on her face so she obviously knows what she’s doing, Hasan kneeling in front of her: “I put clothes on your bed. go change.”

Amelie does a fake gasp, “But my pretty dress!” her face falls, crocodile tears on the horizon, “You don’t like my dress?”

He rolls his eyes, “Of course I like your dress. I chose it.” he tickles her side until she’s smiling and his voice drops, “We don’t want yucky pumpkin guts on your pretty dress, right Aimes?”

she gasps, a theatrical kid, “Pumpkin guts?! Yuck!” she giggles and he nods:

“Exactly. Hurry up, put it on and we’ll get carvin’, yeah?” and she nods and all but runs out of the room.

Hasan stands, his face pink like he’s embarrassed to show this soft side of him. “Sorry uh-c’mon, i’ll show you the kitchen. it’s not a long walk.” he snorts and jams the hat back over his head, a nervous habit of his youve slowly picked up on.

You follow closely behind, take the time to look at the walls as you pass. Hasan is sentimental, even if he insists he’s not; art work from school and library reading programs line the wall, her name carefully written in Hasan's unmistakable chicken scratch writing in the corner, her age next to it.

if a wall isn’t covered in her art work, it’s covered with the two of them: her on his lap, faces pressed together, dressed up for past halloweens in handmade costumes (Hasan's fingers covered in bandaids, obviously he stayed up countless days and hours to make them, to have her have a good halloween-)

“Short walk,” Hasan snorts, “Here.” and he pulls a wooden chair out for you to sit on as he shuffles to the kitchen.

“Okay, confession time.” he sighs, his hand rests on the bar to the fridge. “I have bad news and good news.”

you hold in a sigh, afraid the bad news is: i hate you and you’re only here because my kid sister loves you for some reason or we need to do this quick, i want you out-

“Go ahead.” you hope your voice sounds steady.

“So,” his head disappears in the fridge, appears with a large mason jar, “I had midterms, so i didn’t have time to make apple cider. we’re telling Ames this is homemade, she won’t know the difference.”

you snort out relief, a weight from your shoulders gone, “Homemade apple cider too? I thought you hated Autumn, Hasan.” you tease.

“i do!” he insists, “But Ames loves it, so unfortunately, that means i love it. It was our moms tradition so-“

there’s some weight there but it doesn’t sit, and instead you laugh and he comes back over with a smaller cup, mis matched form whats in his hand, of apple cider, warmed up, and hands it off to you:

“cheers.” he says gently and you smile back and clink the side of his cup gently, taking a sip.

Hasan chugs it back, wipes his hands on his jeans and goes to the stove, stirring something in a pot.

“What’s the good news?” you call back gently as you watch him in his element, a smile on his face as he stirs. He hasn’t said it, but you were hit in the face by the smell of chicken noodle soup, so it’s obvious that’s it.

“Hm?” he calls back, finally looking at you.

“you said good news and bad news,” you reason, turning the cup over in your hands, “so what’s the good news?”

he snorts, “good news?” his eyes travel to the ceiling, “Hm. good news i guess is your pick of two: my amazing homemade pumpkin seeds we make or my amazing homemade soup.”

you laugh, “i think my favorite thing about you is how modest you are.” you tease back gently.

“I’ve been told before.” he teases back again, “Oh! here.” he puts the spoon on top of a box of pasta to the side, pads over to you and grabs a shirt off the chair.

“I uh-so you don’t get your shirt fucked up when we’re carvin’.” and he seems nervous, as he gently passes it over, some over sized light blue dress shirt, “use it as a smock, or whatever. we take carving seriously here.”

and to hide his pink face, he beelines for the stove, occupies himself with it as you turn the shirt over in your hands.

it’s nice of him, very nice. the shirt you’re wearing is a program shirt from a library program you run, definitely not anything fancy, or anything s good wash wouldn’t get out-but it’s such a nice thought you unbutton it and slowly put your arms into it-

it smells like him.

minty, mostly. you’ve only had the smell of him linger briefly and not in a creepy way-like when you babysit Amelie late when he has a late project due, or he picks her up from a library program-he always pulls you in for this hug after, like you’re his long lost best friend or something, anything more-

Amelie comes running down the stairs, making hasan flinch, “Ames, if i have to take you to the hospital we won’t have time to carve pumpkins!” he reminds her gently.

she comes into the kitchen, obviously wearing one of his shirts, too big on her, is down to her knees, and long pajama bottoms, but has a large smile on her face.

“Nu uh, Hasan!” she teases, “we won’t cause i’m careful!”

she’s shaking her head so hair hits either side of her face.

“mhm.” he rolls his eyes he opens a drawer in the kitchen, “c’mere, you’re a mess. you’re gonna get hair all over my kitchen table.” but he says it with fondness in his voice, he disappears, kneeling on the floor and you can see his hands carefully work through her hair, put little rubber bands around her hair.

and she appears a second later, messy piggy tails now.

“Go sit down. Apple cider?” he asks, nudging her towards the table, where she flops down next to you.

a gasp. “Mhm!” her eyes narrow, “is it homemade?”

he rolls his eyes, “of course it’s homemade! what kind of monster do you think i am?”

and you look up at him and he winks at you as he takes a cup down and pours the juice into there.

“hopefully not a monster like the ones under beds!” Amelie gasps, eyes wide as she moves her hands around, now talking to you. “Hasan always checks for mon’sers under the bed before bedtime but he says he never finds any.”

Hasan tickles her side as he hands over the cup and she leans into it, giggling, as he speaks; “that’s right. cause monsters know not to mess with me.”

You bite your lip at how cute the two of them interacting is, but Amelie is standing on the chair, Hasan's hand hovering on her lower back, as she talks wildly with her hands about monsters.

“c’mon, Ames. Wanna help me carry pumpkins in?” she nods furiously, hops off the chair, and the two of you follow hasan to the front door, as he opens it, gently pushes to the front and hands Amelie her pumpkin first, it’s tiny and small, puts it in her hands:

“you got it, Ames?” he says gently, “careful.” he says as she slowly teeters to the kitchen table with the small pumpkin.

“i can carry yours.” you laugh, feeling like it’s the least you could do.

he snorts, “please. what kind of gentleman would i be?” and he turns around, two pumpkins under his arms, clearly struggling, “besides,you got your own to take care of.”

you stare wide eyed at him, because that’s so nice and not expected, thought you were coming over to watch and like, maybe help Amelie carve, not make your own.

you shut the front door and jog to his side, where Amelie is putting down old newspaper to cover the dining room table, “hasan,” you say gently, “you didn’t have to buy me one. lemme pay you back.”

he laughs. a hard laugh.

“I’m literally never going to take your fuckin’ money. besides, your practically part of the family, you got to at least participate in the competition, isn’t that right, Ames?” he says as he sets your pumpkin under newspaper, gently plays with Amelie’s hair.

“Mhm!” she agrees with whatever her big brother says.

“that’s nice of you,” you say gently, as hasan pulls your chair out again and has you sit down again, picks Amelie up by her armpits and sets her on the chair next to you. “i’m just-gonna feel so bad when i kick your butt in the competition.”

Amelie gasps and giggles, “Hasan always use to win against Mama.”

he puffs his chest out, wearing it with pride. “That’s right-“

“‘cept that one year-“

“ah!” Hasan says, face pink again as he gently has his hand over her mouth, “we don’t talk about that, remember, sunshine?”

she giggles and licks his hand so he pulls it away, fake horror, before he leans in and kisses her forehead.

“i’ll get the tools, gimme a second.”

and he pads to the stove, another stir of the soup, before going to a cabinet and pulling out a small orange nylon bag of tools.

“Alright, lemme get Ames set up real quick.” he’s at her side, picks her up by under her armpits and steals her seat, sets her on top of his lap as he passes her a permanent marker.

her tongue hangs out of the side of her mouth as she carefully draws a circle around the stem, caps it and hands it back.

“Good?” Hasan asks, picks up the kitchen knife carefully, waits until she nods for confirmation, and begins sawing around the stem in a circle, her hand on top of his as he slowly, carefully cuts the top off.

her hand immediately goes into the top, starts pulling the insides out, a fit of laughter.

hasan watches her fondly, hands over a permanent marker to you.

“you got this?” he teases gently and you roll your eyes in mock anger.

he watches you carefully the entire time, a smile on his face, as you draw the circle yourself, watches with a careful eye as you take the top off, but the seeds to the side.

he sets up across from you, eyes narrowed as he does the same, getting up occasionally to help Amelie with a seed she can’t reach or anything small like that-

“Go draw a face” hasan says as he passes her the marker again, grabs a bowl and carefully picks it apart to throw the seeds in.

Amelie is busy, humming to herself as she draw a face, that hasan absentmindedly comes to your side, grabs the seeds. “need help?” you ask gently, and he almost looks surprised for s second, as you’re moving without waiting for an answer, putting the seeds in.

“i gotta watch,” you tease gently, “learn the secret behind the homemade pumpkin seeds.”

he snorts, ducks his head as he pads to the sink, you in toe, and carefully wash them off, hands it back to you as you pat them dry and spread them on a cooking sheet.

“You gotta tell me the secret.” you tease again gently, “is it salt? or hm?” your eyes travel to the ceiling, where little paper bats, obviously homemade, hang up.

“the secret,” hasan indulges, voice low but wears a smirk, “is lots of cinnamon.”

you snap your fingers, “figures. i’ll be the judge of how amazing they are.” you tease.

“hasan makes the best pumpkin seeds,” Amelie calls, her face still on the pumpkin, “everyone knows that.”

he smiles, nudges you so you know he’s kidding, “That’s right, Ames. thank you, sunshine.”

you bite your lip to stop yourself from teasing him about this soft side, the nicknames, that only comes out when he’s talking to Amelie (or when he’s very excited) because you’ve mentioned it before and he pulls a face, eyebrows squished together, insists “i don’t have a soft side! I'm mean, even!”

“you’ll see.” he teases again, nudging you, “you’ll see you’ll see.” he hums.

hasan shoves the baking sheet into the oven once it beeps that it’s preheated, and pads back to the chair, Amelie in his lap as he carefully cuts out the face she made.

“Spooky, Ames.” he teases gently, “Spoooooky this year.” he holds out the ‘o’

“to keep the ghouls and ghosts away, hasan!” she insists, “like that story you read!”

He looks up and you’re looking at him confused and his face flushes pink, “just-just some silly bedtime story I read her is all.” he insists, and immediately tries to change the subject.

“Think you can handle this?” hasan teases you, hands you a marker again.

you roll your eyes, “i think i got it. i think you’re just scared, hm?”

he snorts, “Oh, you wish-“

“Oh ye of little faith,” you sigh, a smile on your lips, “You’ll see.”

hasan finishes first, the eyes are fucked up and crooked, but the mouth is good, scary even- promptly sets it next to Ames and pulls her onto his lap as he squishes his face against hers and tickles her, points out the little things he likes about hers (“the spooky eyes, sunshine’. ooh!”)

you finish and it’s well-not great, accidentally cut half an eye off, and the mouth is crooked, but hasan oohs and awes at it until your face is flushed pink, picks yours and his up and grabs a lighter off the table, shoves it into his pocket and leads you outside.

night has fallen in small town suburbia, the moon high in the sky, the street lights on and crickets chirp. Amelie sets her on the top step, takes the top off and accepts the tea light candle from hasan gently sets it in, and he does the same for yours and his, crouches and sets the wick, Amelie’s job to put the tops on back carefully.

hasan knocks into your hand accidentally as the three of you step backwards and ooh and awe over the spooky pumpkins, Amelie giggling wildly and running around about them.

hasan calls for dinner, Amelie racing in and he knocks shoulders with you, “for the record, i think you won.”

and your face flushes pink the entire time you stand in line behind Amelie, a small plastic bowl in your hand as hasan gently serves you the soup he made, follow him to the table and you eat quietly next to him (“delicious, hasan. really.” “I told you.” he teases back with a smirk and a wink)

the oven beeps and you help clean up the table as Amelie gets pajamas on, hasan serves a small bowl of pumpkin seeds and you three pad into the front room, where he puts on a charlie brown halloween, Amelie on his lap, half falling asleep.

it’s late, when it’s time to leave, and you’re trying to hand back the shirt (“keep it,” hasan laughs, “looks better on you, anyways.”) putting the coat he insists you wear, even though your house is literally in eyesight.

his coat is too big on you but he wraps Amelie up in a blanket on his hip, insists he walks you home, his hand keeps knocking into yours, clumsy the whole time.

you bother linger on your porch, until Amelie stirs, whimpers, a nightmare on the horizon as he says goodnight, promises to text you soon.

the entire time walking back all he can hear is the sing songy voice in the back of his head, yelling at him for being an idiot; should’ve kissed them. should’ve kissed them. should’ve kissed them. should’ve-

[danielfuckingricciardo]

Rise Like A Phoenix - Chapter Eight

Pairing - Jenson Button x Reader + Charles Leclerc x Reader + Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Word Count - 3158

Content Warning - Swearing, reference to gambling, violence, oral sex fem receiving, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, alcohol mention

Synopsis - When a German agent goes missing investigating a diplomat’s disappearance, you are asked to take the case as your old adversary is revealed to be the one to blame. However, you soon find out that you will not be working alone, and will have to complete your mission with the help of agent Charles Leclerc.

Author’s Note - Once again, if you’ve read the tags, you know what’s coming and I hope you’re excited! I don’t want to spoil the fun, so I’ll let you get down to business, enjoy!

Chapter Eight - This Is Monaco, Baby

Charles waits until Edmund and Polina have left the casino before walking over to the bar, taking a seat beside Daniel as he lets his head fall against the counter.

“Charles that was fucking amazing. You really went full Bond there, I actually got chills.” You say, and Charles lifts his head from the counter.

“Really? I don’t do a lot of this pretending-to-be-someone-else stuff. I’m more of a fight-the-bad-guy and shoot him kind of agent.” Charles says, and you chuckle.

“Well, you’re in now. And I think we could help each other out, that is, if (y/n) is happy to work with me again?” Daniel says, and you sigh.

“It makes sense. If you pretend to know Charles and his business, it would be the best way to get Fortescue to trust him more. George, if you can whip up a fake identity and background for Charles, toss out a few breadcrumbs on the internet, fake news stories and such to make his story more believable, then we might be able to get in.” You say, and Daniel smiles a cheesy grin.

“See, you love me really, you couldn’t wait to work with me again, admit it.” Daniel says, nudging you on the shoulder.

“I swear, Ricciardo, don’t think for one minute I’m happy with this set-up. If it were up to me, I’d be doing this alone, but since that’s impossible, I’m working with what I’ve got. Trust me, if I had the option to choose which agents to work with, you wouldn’t even be my third choice.” You say, pointing at him so aggressively your finger jabs into his chest.

“I wouldn’t push her if I were you, she threatened to shoot me in the shoulder if I fucked up.” Charles says, and Daniel chuckles.

“Oh, she gave you that one, did she? She said the same to me, but then the first night we were in the hotel together we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. I suppose you’ve got that to look forward to, unless you already…” Daniel says, trailing off as he studies Charles’ face for any hint of an emotion.

“Ricciardo, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your fucking skull.” You whisper yell, your hand releasing the clasp on your clutch bag to touch the handle of your pistol with your fingertips.

“I forgot how fun it was to tease you, (y/n), I better get going anyway, I have a dinner reservation with Fortescue and I’m already fashionably late as it is. Catch you fucks later.” Daniel says, standing from his seat and swaggering over to the ornate doors of the casino.

“He’s… a lot, huh?” Charles says, and you nod.

“I can still hear you, Charlie boy.” Daniel says in your ear, and you chuckle.

“George, remove Daniel from our network please, we want to bitch about him in private.” You say, and George hums a quick yes, a short beep playing in your ear as Daniel is disconnected from your conversation.

“He’s an interesting one. Annoys the hell out of me, but he is a good agent. I trust him.” You say.

“And you two used to be a couple?” Charles asks, his mouth moving before his brain could catch up and stop him from asking such a personal question.

“Not a couple, no, no, we just… spent a lot of time together on a case a while back. You know how it is, when you’re working together on a case. Things get intense and you find ways of de-stressing. Just so you know, I try not to make a habit of fucking my partners. Sure, I’ve fucked some of them, but not all of them.” You say, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

“I understand. You spend a lot of time together on a case, and you understand each other in ways other people couldn’t even fathom. And it must help when your partner is an extremely attractive Australian guy with a winning personality.” Charles says, chuckling slightly, and you cant help but chuckle too.

“Yeah it does help a little.” You add, smiling at Charles. “Now we should get back to the hotel, we have some work to do before tomorrow night if we want Fortescue to bring you in to his inner circle.”

“Let’s go.” Charles says, standing from his bar stool and taking a step over to you, offering you his hand to take.

You take Charles’ hand in yours, and you feel an electric sensation at your touch. His delicate fingers wrap around yours, and you walk out of the casino doors hand-in-hand.

———

As you open Svetlana’s door, swinging your legs out onto the pavement below, you take a look up at the magnificent hotel you were staying in. Sometimes it’s easy to forget to take in your surroundings while on a mission. Thanks to your job, you had seen sights most people could only dream of seeing, and been to places reserved only for those who possess a vast personal fortune. Monaco was certainly one of those places, so striking for a country so small, a perfect combination of tradition and modernity. It’s no wonder so many people from all over the world seek to call this place their home.

Lost in thought, you don’t even notice Charles stood beside you, resting gently against Svetlana’s silver bodywork.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He says, and your eyes snap up to make contact with his.

“Stunning. I’ve never seen anywhere quite like it. You’re lucky.” You say, smiling up at him.

Charles offers you his hand, and you take it, standing and shutting Svetlana’s door behind you. He maintains his soft grip on your hand as you walk up to the hotel doors, and you take a quick look back at Svetlana as you lock her with your free hand. She responds with a flash of her lights, and you smile.

“Do you think Daniel ever got jealous?” Charles asks, and you look at him, a puzzled expression on your face.

“Of what?” You ask.

“Svetlana. You look at her with such love in your heart.” He responds, and you chuckle.

“Oh, I made sure that he knew early on that any man in my life would always come second.” You say

“And do they?” Charles says, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

“Do they what?”

“Always come second?” He says with a smirk, and you roll your eyes.

“Dirty boy.” You say, trying to suppress a smile, “if you play your cards right you might just find out the answer to that.”

“Hm, I think you’ll find I already played my cards right.” Charles says, giving you a wink as he summons a concierge from the hotel desk.

“Send a bottle of Bollinger to my room, 407, we’re celebrating a big win tonight.” Charles says, tucking a casino chip into the concierge’s pocket.

“Certainly, sir, congratulations on your good fortune.” He responds, nodding his head before disappearing behind the desk.

“So, what are we celebrating?” You ask as the two of you walk hand-in-hand to the elevators. You step inside and the door closes behind you, leaving the two of you alone.

“Whatever the fuck you want.” Charles says, before claiming your lips in a desperate kiss.

Despite your initial shock at the sudden contact, you quickly melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around Charles’ neck. You couldn’t deny that seeing him take such control turned you on. It wasn’t often that you allowed a man to have any kind of control over you, Jenson was the only exception to the rule, of course, but you were more than willing to make a new exception for Charles.

Charles’ hands find your hips as he pulls your body flush to his. His hands begin to slide further and further down until they find your arse cheeks, giving them a firm squeeze.

“Fuck Charles” You whisper as you pull away from his lips, the two of you left panting and gasping for air in the enclosed elevator.

You lean in once again, but pull back as the elevator dings. You unlace your hands from Charles’ neck and separate from each other, already missing the contact of his body on yours. The doors slide open, and luckily no one is stood behind them. Charles takes this opportunity to grab your hand and pull you quickly down the corridor towards the door of your room.

As Charles jams the key into the lock, you spot the ice bucket and champagne that Charles had ordered nestled within the doorway.

“How the fuck did they get that up here so fast?” You say, picking up the bucket and tucking it beneath your arm.

“This is Monaco baby.” Charles says as the door to your room swings open.

As you step inside, Charles quickly slams the door behind you, reclaiming your lips immediately with his own. The speed of this action almost causes you to drop the champagne bucket, but you catch it beneath your arm.

“Let me put this fucking thing down.” You say against Charles’ lips, wrapping your spare arm around him to pull him in the direction of the coffee table, not separating your lips for a second as you deposit the bucket.

Now free, you wrap both arms around Charles’ shoulders, your hands finding his hair and tangling between the tufts of light brown that tickled his neck. Charles’ arms once again find your waist, his hands settling against your lower back.

“I really did mean it, you know.” You say between heavy breaths as you pull away from Charles’ lips.

“What, amour?” Charles questions, his eyebrow quirked.

“I really do try not to make a habit of fucking my partners.” You respond, and Charles chuckles.

“Then lets just keep this between us, yes?” Charles says, backing you up to guide you towards the queen sized bed in the centre of the room.

“Yes” You say in a breathy voice, as you fall back against the crisp white sheets.

Charles nudges your knee with his own, urging you to open your legs to position himself between them. His hands run across your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up towards your waist to reveal your soft skin and black lace panties.

You moan as his hands continue to travel up your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your throbbing pussy still covered by the black fabric.

“These are in my way.” Charles says, his hands dipping below the waistband and slowly pulling them down, passing your thighs, your calves, your ankles, before discarding them to the floor.

“There, perfect.” He says, and you let out a soft chuckle.

Charles pushes your legs open wider and kneels between them beside the bed. His hands grip your thighs and pull you sharply in closer towards him, his nose practically brushing against your clit in this new position.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, looking up at your reclined position on the bed. Your arms were thrown above your head, already gripping the soft sheets.

You lift your head slightly to look at him, “yes, fuck, please,” you whimper, and Charles nods, responding by licking you slowly from your throbbing cunt to your clit.

You moan and throw your head back in ecstasy at the contact, finally getting what you had so desperately craved since Charles had kissed you for the first time that evening.

Charles notices your reaction and licks you again, but this time, his lips linger over your clit, gently sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

“Fuck me you’re good at that.” You say, spurring Charles on to carefully push his index finger inside of you.

You gasp at the sudden fullness as he gently stretches you open with his finger, curling it ever so slightly within you. His lips and tongue continued their assault on your clit, and as he slides another finger inside you, you let out a low moan, your hands gripping the sheets even tighter.

“Can you cum for me on just my fingers, amour?” Charles says, lifting his head to look at you, his fingers still curling deep inside you.

“If you keep going like this, then fuck yes, holy shit.” You say.

Charles chuckles, gripping your thigh tightly to keep your legs open with his free hand. He reaches for your clit with his thumb, rubbing it gently as his fingers continue to work inside of you.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach the brink of orgasm, with the assault of his fingers inside of you and the constant contact of the pad of his thumb against your clit, it felt like your entire body was alight with pleasure.

“Charles, I’m gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans.

“Cum for me, amour, I want to hear more of those pretty sounds you’re making.” Charles says, his voice smooth and low.

His urging was all it took, and a wave of pleasure rushes through your body as your pussy clenches around Charles’ fingers. You let out a long, deep moan as your eyes roll back and your vision goes dark, your fingers white-knuckled as you squeeze the sheets.

As the sensation dissipates, Charles removes his fingers from you and you sit up on your hands and knees, crawling over to his position on the edge of the bed.

“Do you want me to use my mouth on you, baby?” You ask, your voice as sweet as sugar.

“No, amour, I want to feel your tight wet pussy around me,” Charles says, pausing for a second to lick his fingers clean of your juices, “If you feel half as good as you taste, then you’re in for a long night.”

Charles’ hands reach for the zipper on the back of your dress, tugging it gently downwards and allowing you to slide out of the soft material, exposing your breasts. His hands immediately replace the fabric that had covered them, massaging them with his warm hands.

Your hands reach for the buttons of Charles’ shirt, urgently fumbling to undo each one to give you a glimpse of his toned chest once again. You run your fingernails down his torso, looping your fingers beneath the waistband of his suit pants, indicating your desire to strip him bare.

“May I?” You ask, and he nods, giving you permission to begin unfastening his suit pants. Your hand brushes against his cock which was straining against the material, desperate to be set free. He groans as you brush against him once again, and you smirk, pulling down his zipper and allowing him to step out of his pants and underwear.

Your eyes immediately drift down to his long, girthy cock, and you feel your pussy twitch at the sight of it. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to gag on him as he fucks your mouth, to run your tongue against the shaft and lick the precum from his tip. But you were desperate to feel him inside of you, to fill you up, fuck you senseless, and paint your walls with his seed.

“Enjoying the view, amour?” Charles asks, noticing your open-mouthed stare, practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

“Fuck, Charles, I need you inside me.” You say, standing from the bed to allow your dress to drop to the floor.

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush to his and allowing the tip of his cock to press against your entrance. He spins you around, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap, claiming your lips in a hungry kiss filled with teeth and tongue.

Having allowed him to control things for long enough, you push him down against the bedsheets, straddling his waist with one of your thighs positioned either side of him.

You lift yourself up and hover above the tip of his dick, teasing him with the slight contact of your entrance. He lets out a small groan and you smirk.

“Such a fucking tease.” Charles says, and you wink at him, before sinking down and allowing his cock to slowly fill you up.

Your movements begin slow at first, but you gradually pick up the pace as you become accustomed to the feeling of fullness. His thick cock filled you up just right, pushing you to the brink of pleasure with every thrust.

Charles’ hands grab your hips tightly, aiding you in your movements up and down his shaft. The room is filled with the sounds of sex, skin-on-skin, deep breathy moans and grunts, and the odd curse word as he hits just the right spot within you.

You run your hands up and down Charles’ chest, rubbing small circles into his hip bones as he thrusts up into you in perfect rhythm with your own movements.

“I’m close, amour.” Charles says, and you lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Charles’ grip on your hips tightens, his thumbs pressing so deeply you were sure you were going to have small circular bruises left behind the next morning. But the sensation of pain, mixed with the pleasure of Charles pushing deep within you added a whole new level to the pleasure you were experiencing, and you too found yourself edging closer and closer to your second orgasm of the night.

You throw your head back as you feel pleasure building within you, a deep, warm feeling developing within your core. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut as the wave of complete ecstasy hits you, and your motions become sloppier against Charles’ cock.

Your tightening walls around him are all it takes to bring Charles to his own completion, and he lets go inside you with a deep, guttural moan.

“Fuck.” You say as you lift yourself off of Charles’ spent cock and collapse onto the bed beside him, your breathing deep and heavy.

“Yeah, fuck.” Charles says, turning to you to observe the blissed-out expression on your face.

You wrap your leg over his own, and his hand finds your arse once again, gently caressing the soft flesh with his fingers.

“I guess I found out the answer to my question.” Charles says, and you raise your eyebrow at him.

“What question would that be?” You ask.

“Men in your life do always come second.” Charles says with a chuckle, and you playfully slap him on the arm.

Next Chapter

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

[uncouth-the-fifth]

congrats on the new followers! what about 108 + 126 with dami and wife!reader?

108. "If you leave the house wearing that, then the second you come over I'm bending you over the bed," and 126. "Y-you're not...w-wearing anything under that, are you?" with Damian Wayne.

ty! i feel like damian would marry someone able to keep up with his sass while throwing some of their own back at him, so a bit of a bratty reader for you <3 i also exposed my slight daddy kink so don’t hate me 🔫

You were trying to goad him. Unfortunately for Damian's ego, it was working.

He watched you twist around in front of the mirror, enjoying the shape of your figure in your new clothes. It'd taken hours of convincing (and a couple threats), but Damian finally coaxed you to let him take you on a shopping trip. Wayne Enterprises had granted him a raise for work that was completely his own. The only way Damian wanted to celebrate was by spoiling another thing that completely belonged to him. He'd worked hard to be his own man in the past few years, and today he'd seen the fruits of his labor. His beautiful wife was happy because of something he'd orchestrated. Damian's reputation was great, and not because of his name or his titles. He lounged by the fireplace in your bedroom, twice as smug as usual.

"Really, Damian, thank you," you told him, sounding bashful. "You could've spent that money on anything, but you spent it on me."

He watched you slip out of one of the party dresses you'd picked out for yourself, the light of the fire throwing soft shadows along your nude body. Damian openly stared, but without (much) sexual intent - just pride. Pride and love. This was his wife, and she enchanted him with every step. You pulled the fabric around your hips until it dropped around your ankles, and Damian's cock twitched in his pants.

He clicked his tongue. "TT." Damian lifted the rim of his teacup to his lips, rumbling, "You needed clothes."

To seduce me with, Damian thought, eyes wandering. You found something comfy to change into and hopped into it right in front of Damian, snugly snapping the waistband of some sweatpants around your middle and dropping a loose shirt over your nude chest. He made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, and you turned back to him with a smile.

“I was thinking about running to pick up some stuff for a night in. Popcorn, desert, that kind of thing.” You danced around the back of his chair and draped your arms over his shoulders, kissing sweetly at the side of his face. “Maybe we could watch a movie together.”

Damian pressed his lips together, eyes squinted with displeasure. “Now?” He grunted.

“Yes, now, Damian.”

You released him to perch on the arm of his chair, making it all too easy for Damian to hook an arm around your waist and drop you down into his lap. A deeper warmth blazed across your face at his blatantly possessive scowl. “But you’re not wearing anything under that.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you roll your eyes, “it’s hot out and who’s really going to see? Some cashier who won’t give me a second glance?”

Damian set down his cup and flushed his hands around your ribs, mapping upward and brushing your breasts beneath the fabric. You were pulled into his body until his chest was snug against your back, dropping a gasp from your lips.

Petulantly, Damian dragged his mouth down your neck and mumbled, “Someone other than me. That is who will see.”

He didn’t actually mean it. Damian, after years of years of being treated like an object himself, was well aware that you both were entitled to control of your bodies. He was playing, which made it even cuter. The whole “you belong to me thing” was sexy, and was made sexier when it was something you could both flick on and off at will. At the moment... you did not want him to shut it off. You wanted to be his, wanted him to take you.

To tease him, you set your hands on the armrests and started to push out of his hold. Damian let you, but if his hands didn’t pull you back, the power in his voice certainly did. 

“If you try to leave the house in those clothes,” he warned, “I’m throwing you on the bed and bending you over my knee.”

“Ooh,” you fake-shivered, “I’m so scared—”

In an instant, Damian’s hips were thrust forward into your ass, and your wrists were snapped together and pulled closer to him in one harsh tug. You yelped in strained surprise, which Damian met with a smooth chuckle.

“Hmm,” he purred. “It appears all the coddling I’ve done today has made you bratty, Mrs. Wayne. I think I’ll give you a spanking either way, if you plan to be in such an indulgent mood. Are you going to test me further, Y/N?”

You glared at him, but holding in your excitement was too hard. A grin pinched your cheeks. “Kiss my ass, Damian—”

Twice as fast as before, you were whipped onto your belly and your sweatpants were torn down your legs, exposing your ass once more to the humid air. His hand viciously struck your left cheek, and the dual sensation of the sting and your pussy throbbing wrenched a whine from your throat. Being pushed across his thighs like that had shoved your shirt up and over your tits. Volcanic lust burned deep in your gut - in less than a second, he’d ripped back the curtain to reveal the slut beneath. You struggle to balance, recklessly bracing your palms on the floor. The slap on its own was orgasmic, but coupled with Damian’s anger and the debauched scene - your pliant body greedily lapping up his punishments - you were effectively soaked.

Like this was every other day for him, Damian leaned over you and took a refined sip of his tea.

“I hate you,” you mewled.

Damian snorted. “That wedding ring on your finger tells me otherwise. Now, count to ten. Naughty girls get ten spankings.”

His voice dripped with blistering enjoyment, and you knew that the villainous delight Damian was spending on you now was the last sadism from his assassin days. Damian wasn’t evil anymore, but this was the one time of day where your heart would skip a beat on the subject - if there was ever a moment he’d start plotting to take over the world, it was probably this one. Needless to say, it was fucking delectable.

“Ready?” He purred.

You closed your eyes, snapped your teeth around the bunched fabric of your own shirt, and nodded your head - probably with hearts blazing in your vision.

Damian reeled back his hand and delivered a blow worthy of a world-class assassin. You felt your own ass jiggle, literally jiggle, from the weight of the hit. You poured a shuddering shout into your homemade gag, “O-One!”

Again and again, Damian rounded on you. He’d punished you enough times to perfect the process, so his hits were periodic, but with enough time in between to let you gather your bearings, and yet still short enough to make your ass burn just how you adored. You sent a mental thank you to whoever had given him that beautiful brain, because Damian was quick to deduce what you wanted. If the sound you made was a little too soft, the next slap would come harder, ringing through the room in loud, solid notes. His hand must sting. He must like it, since he kept going with such revelry.

After the tenth, your toes were curled in and wounded tightly to your under-thighs, which were crossed, desperately clenching for any stimulation you could get. Delighted tears slipped from your eyes. Finally, you spat out your shirt and said with aching lips, “D-do you forgive me, daddy?”

Another vicious slap, this time on the left. Damian’s voice was sharp. “What did I tell you about calling me that, pet? Go on. Tell me precisely what I said.”

“I-if I called you that... I...” you squeezed your eyes shut, “m’ only supposed to say it when I really want to be fucked... when I want you ‘t make me forget my own name...n’ I do.” You sucked in a breath, “I took my spankings so well, Damian... please?”

He sipped his tea. He thought on it, turning the idea around in his mind. You could feel his thumb stroking your behind, no doubt admiring how red it was because of him.

“Ten more,” Damian said, his smile downright crocodilian, “and perhaps I’ll consider it.”

[sukirichi]

not shy

megumi was not shy around his crush — and that’s a fucking lie.

request: shy megumi who is really flustered around his crush + his friends and gojo-sensei helping him confess

note: this is fluff and a semi crack fic too LOL i hope you guys enjoy this, i had a lot of fun with this one! unedited too, as usual!

word count: 4.5k

masterlist !

playlist made by the lovely @savantsoulfinder​ thank you so much! 

“Yo, Megumi-kun, can you take—” Satoru halted in his steps, following the trail of sight that his dark-haired student seemed to be so enamoured in to not even notice his teacher walk his way. “What are you staring at?” when his gaze landed on you, head thrown back in laughter and slapping Panda’s arm over Yuuji’s joke, Satoru’s eyes beamed even under the blindfold. “Oh? You like Y/N?”

Upon hearing your name, Megumi immediately snapped back to life. He scoffed and turned away from you, scowling to himself with his arms crossed against his chest. “No, I don’t. I don’t like anyone.” So defensive.

“Is that so?” Satoru teased while biting back his laughter, “Guess you won’t mind if I call her then. Hey, Y/N!”

“Gojo-sensei, what’re you doing?!” Megumi grabbed his teacher’s sleeve, whisper-hissing and cursing under his breath when Satoru caught your attention. You waved at them both, skipping until you were getting impossibly closer and closer and closer.

“Well, I don’t want you to carry these all alone. You’re gonna need some help.”

“I’m perfectly fine – h-hi.”

Shit, you were now here. You smiled up at him, hands folded below your bottom before tipping your head to the side, looking under Megumi’s ducked head to see his face. “Hey there, Megumi! Looking cute today,” you winked, causing the poor boy to blush madly. You never noticed, though, your attention now taken by your teacher turning red as he stopped his laughter. “Gojo-sensei! You called me?”

“Oh yeah, you’re just right on time. I was going to ask Megumi here to bring these books all back to my office but it’s probably too heavy for him so I asked—”

“It’s not heavy,” Megumi took the books that Satoru placed in your welcoming arms, the slightest touch sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He pulled away and clutched the books closer to himself at the sudden buzz, narrowing his eyes at his teacher who obviously couldn’t mind his own business. “I can carry it by myself.”

“I still wanna help, and I really don’t mind. Plus, I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I actually kind of feel like you’re avoiding me,” you pouted, and that simple gesture had Megumi feeling like he was sinking deeper into the ground.

He was ready for the whole world to swallow him up.

Satoru took pleasure in Megumi’s reddish ears and clenched jaw, cupping his own jaw with his hands as if to mock. “Aw, Megumi, why would you avoid precious Y/N? Did she do something wrong to you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, if there’s nothing wrong, you two better scoot before you get late to your other class!”

“Alright, see you around, Gojo-sensei!” Shit, why were you such a good girl? Now he was stuck with you, and Megumi huffed while hesitantly sharing the books with him. You walked close enough to him that he caught a slight whiff of your shampoo, the scent clouding over his usually sharp mind. Now, though, Megumi could barely recognize the hallways he walked on, relying only on you to lead the way. “So...how’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How about your studies? We have an exam next week – maybe you want to study together? Inumaki-senpai and I were supposed to have a study group with the others but everyone just wants to study by themselves,” you turned to him with a small smile, “I do better when I’m with someone though.”

Megumi managed to give you a split second glance before he darted his eyes back in front of him again, swallowing audibly because he couldn’t understand why you had to look so pretty smiling like that.

His palms grew sweaty with each passing second, and he grimaced at the uncomfortably feeling of his collar getting sticky. “Uh, wh-where would we study? We don’t have a library or anything.”

“The training grounds is refreshing, but I’d like it to do it better in my room.”

“Do what?” Megumi halted in his steps, his eyes blown wide at your words.

“Study, of course. What else?”

He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be worried that you frowned in confusion, almost as if you didn’t understand the weight of your words. But then again, you’d always been so damn oblivious that it made sense. Megumi shook his head, continuing on to the teacher’s office before remembering he still lost his sense of direction, so he bit his lip, obediently following you around like a puppy.

“You shouldn’t just invite anyone to your room, you know.”

Once you both made it to the empty room, you carefully placed the books down on Satoru’s desk. He raised a brow at the extra detail you put into, tongue peeking out from the edges of your lips as you made sure all of them were placed together neatly.

Satisfied with your work, you clapped your hands and turned to him.

“I’m not. You’re not just anyone to me, Megumi,” Suddenly, you leaned over him, his mind screaming at him when your lips lowered down to his neck. Megumi’s spine stiffened so quick he might as well be a flat board, his chin pressed to his neck when he felt your teeth graze his exposed skin for a moment. “There’s a loose thread,” you showed him a small thread with a small smile, which fell as fast when you saw Megumi standing uncomfortably straight. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to invade your personal space like that!” “I’m a little weird, aren’t I? That would explain why you’ve been avoiding me. Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that...it’s just...”

“Just what?”

His mind blanked. Ask him anything about curses or their history and pretty much anything – he’d be able to answer – but not this. They didn’t teach this in the books and out of frantic nervousness, Megumi ended up spewing the first thing he could think of, his brows drawn together that only added to his intimidating look.

“I’m just annoyed that you scored higher than me on the previous exam.”

“Oh,” you fell for it, snapping your fingers together as you laughed. Somehow, the sound of your melodious laughter had his shoulders easing from the tension, the smallest of smiles hinting at the edge of his lips. Gosh, he was so whipped for you. “Was that really it? I thought you were avoiding me for something serious! Well, how about this, let’s study together and let’s see who’s the smarter one. The loser will get tickled to death!”

“I haven’t even agreed to that condition yet.”

“Okay, what do you want if you win?”

Megumi blushed as he blurted out, “You.”

Before he could regret what he just said, you scrunched your nose and pointed to yourself. “Me what? You want me to do something? You want me to buy you ice cream or—”

“Never mind,” he mumbled behind his palm that was now covering his mouth, refusing to show you that he actually wanted to laugh at how naive you could be. Not that he was complaining; it saved him great pain that you could never know his feelings for you. “I’ll ask for it when I’m sure I’ll win.”

“Ah, not a man of uncalculated risks, I see,” you ruffled his hair, the poor boy stiffening up again under your touch. “This is why I like you so much. You’re so thoughtful.”

“Please don’t touch my hair.”

Megumi was complaining, his shoulders raised beside his ears while he scowled at you, but the way a small, almost inaudible purr left his lips said otherwise. He didn’t want you touching his hair – only because he was shy and it would be the death of him if you saw how easily flustered he was around you.

Thankfully, you showered mercy upon him, raising your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, we should go back to class now.”

Megumi sighed in relief, content for now to walk you all the way back to class as you talked about your day. He wasn’t actually listening, but a stupid smile was there on his face, anyway. He likened the sound of your voice to those of birds chirping and sunshine waking – and he felt like he was the fresh earth you always kissed.

“You’re going to burn a hole in her if you keep staring at her like that.”

“Shut up,” Megumi averted his eyes away from you, stabbing his yogurt with his plastic fork. A part of him felt annoyed that you just had to look so pretty today, your bright voice filling in the cafeteria that put his constant sour mood to shame. The stark difference between you two made Megumi sigh in his seat, abandoning his fork as he leaned back. There was no way you’d like him back. “I wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“Ugh, why are boys so creepy? Staring at Y/N like that, ew.”

Yuuji ignored Nobara’s comment, and for once, Megumi let it slide when Nobara stealed his untouched yogurt. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her? She’s literally the sweetest person ever – the chances of her turning you down are low!”

Nobara snorted, “Yeah, but if the sweetest girl in school rejects you, that’s really humiliating. That would mean she likes everyone but you.”

Satoru popped out of nowhere – that stupid blindfolded bastard who started all this – his arms looped around Yuuji’s neck whose entire face illuminated at having his favourite teacher around. “I think the scary-looking Megumi-chan is actually just too shy to be confess,” he wiggled his eyebrows, pointing a finger fun to Megumi’s deadly narrowed gaze. “Can you believe it? My dark, brooding student is hopelessly in love with the cute, sunshine girl next door that he’s so scared around her? Isn’t that so adorable—”

“Everyone shut up!” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m not scared of anyone or anything.”

“Then tell her you like her.”

“Fine, I will.”

“I bet you ten dollars he won’t do it,” Satoru whispered, the two students who shared one brain cell beside him nodding eagerly.

“I said I will!”

“Good morning, Megumi! Come in, come in,” you ushered him in once he stood frozen at your door, his hands now awkwardly clutching his own notes. “You can take a seat on the bed.”

Megumi wasn’t nervous of the fact this was his first time visiting a girl’s room, but rather because it was yours, and each part of your room resembled you greatly. From the organized and clean space, but the noticeable adorable little trinkets and polaroids of you with everyone sticking on the wall, he could feel your entire soul living in that room. When his eyes landed on an old photo of you holding up the peace sign and noticed for the first time he was standing in the background, unaware he was captured in the frame, Megumi inhaled sharply.

Had you pretended to take a selfie just to see him there?

No, he shook his head, there was just no way. He really couldn’t ponder about it long enough because you’d dragged him by the sleeve until he was sitting right next to you, the fresh scent of your body wash making him feel stunningly warm inside his clothes even when the windows were open.

The whole time, Megumi couldn’t absorb a single thing you were saying.

He was just too distracted by everything about you – the way your lips moved when you spoke, how you’d tuck back a stray hair behind your ear, even to the way your mouth would form an ‘o’ shape as you learned something new. No, he couldn’t focus at all.

Megumi has lost count of the times he’d wiped his shaky, sweaty palms on the pads of his sweatpants, hitching his breath every time you leaned close to him to glance at his notes.

At this rate, he’d be the loser in your little competition. It was just impossible for him to focus on anything else.

“Megumi?” you waved your hands in front of him. When it wasn’t enough to get his attention, you resorted to flicking his forehead and he yelped, rubbing at the sore spot. He faced you, a complaint ready to be spoken when his eyes widened at the sudden lack of proximity, your nose booping against his. “Hello, Megumi? I’ve asked you the same question twice now and you haven’t answered yet.”

As nicely as he could, he pushed your face away, his heart thumping loudly when you laughed as you went back to your own space. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I wasn’t really listening.”

“Yeah, I can tell, you were just staring at me the whole time,” you held your phone up in front of your face, checking your reflection on the screen on different angles. He watched, enchanted by how gorgeous you looked no matter what side. “Is there something on my face...? I’ve been checking non-stop and I don’t see anything weird.”

Megumi swallowed nervously, “There’s nothing wrong with your face. I just can’t focus. You’re too close and I-I can smell you.”

“Do I smell bad?!”

“No, you don’t! You smell really sweet!”

“Aw, thanks! You smell sexy too,” you winked at him, wiggling your shoulders as if to share your scent with him. Megumi’s eyes widened when your shoulder rubbed against his, and he recoiled, arm placed over his nose to hide his emotions that were a train wreck right now.

“Sexy?” he spluttered, “Why would you say – me – sexy? You’re so weird, Y/N. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

You patted his thigh in a manner that should be comforting, but the teasing smile on your face only had him wanting to jump out the window even more. Then, you stood up and stretched the material of your shirt riding up until he caught sight of your navel. Megumi turned away and closed his eyes, cheeks trapped between his teeth. “We should take a break. Treat’s on me – where do you want to go?”

“Err,” he scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, don’t look too worried, it’s a weekend. Plus, Gojo-Sensei isn’t around to bother us or something.”

“You...you want to go out...” he drawled out slowly, tentatively, surely – just to make sure that he was hearing it right. “...with me?”

“Yeah, I did just ask where you want to go.”

“Oh,” Megumi nodded with a blank face. Then, your words sank in, and he folded his knees to his chest to hide his face and his sickly sweet smile, the butterflies in his stomach progressing into a fucking zoo. “Oh.”

“Are you sick? You’re so red,” your palm connected with his heated forehead, “Megumi, you’re burning! Should I take you to Ieri-san?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he pushed your hand away, still repudiating to look you in the eye. He just couldn’t, not when you were too inquisitive and he could easily give a dead clue before he got the chance to properly confess. “I mean, I don’t really have a certain place in mind. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”

He should’ve noticed it then – the mischievous glint in your eye that told him you weren’t up to no good. But because his knees always weakened around you, Megumi agreed way too eagerly than he’d like. “Just make sure you don’t regret it, okay? There’s something I’ve always been wanting to try but I never got the chance to and no one wanted to go with me, so you’ll be my willing victim!” And so, half an hour later, Megumi’s jaw dropped as the chill of the arena nipped at his skin. You didn’t even tell him to bring a jacket. “Ta-da!”

“Ice skating?”

You nodded happily, dragging him all the way to the shoe fittings. “It’s going to be fun, come on!”

“But I don’t know how to.”

“Neither do I!” Megumi wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know how to. No matter how much he tried so hard to learn, he just couldn’t balance himself. The sound of your laughter that let him know you enjoyed this way too much reached his ears as he glared at the ice, his ears red either from the cold or the humiliation of being an utter failure in front of you, of all people! “Need some help there, buddy?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And no, I can do this by myself.”

You masked your chuckle with a snicker, squatting to watch as he struggled to heave himself up back to his feet. “Really? You’ve fallen like, a hundred times now.”

“Shut up. Humans aren’t naturally supposed to do this anyway. We don’t have a human instinct to be upright – whoa!” Megumi slipped again from the ice, this time knocking you down with him. Instead of it being romantic where you two ended up gazing at each other with love in your eyes, your eyes widened into saucers as his elbow landed into your belly, crushing the wind out of your body.

“Ow!”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to – ugh, this is why I said it was a bad idea!”

All the way back home, Megumi was still entirely convinced it was a bad idea. You were limping beside him, having to use his bicep as a crutch with your head resting on his shoulder. You and your stupid ideas, really, now you were injured and sprained your ankle from the fall. Instead of worrying about your own safety, you only slapped your knee in laughter as the medics fixed you up, still in disbelief that Megumi had fallen a lot of times yet came out unscathed.

“Megumi~ are you still mad at me? Why won’t you talk to me?” you pouted, squeezing his bicep to get his attention.

“It’s because I told you it was dangerous. Look at you – your knees are all scraped and your legs are all wobbly. We’ve still got a long way back home.”

“Maybe you should carry me then.”

“C-carry you?”

“Yeah, so I don’t fall,” you snorted, pointing to your shoeless ankle covered in bandages. “I mean, it was your fault I’m injured. If you hadn’t fallen for me, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Fallen for you? Did you know that he – ? Megumi’s head snapped to yours so hard he nearly had whiplash, but the only thing he could focus on was the pounding of drums within his chest. “F-fall? How did you know?”

“Megumi, you literally fell on top of me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten already.”

That had him blinking back, his face flattening into a blank expression. Then, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stopped in his tracks. “Sometimes I forget you’re terribly naive.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Now get on,” With burning cheeks and a heart that fluttered way too much than what was considered healthy, Megumi squatted down to the ground, patting his back with a groan. You less than jumped into his arms, a little too excited to get a piggyback ride and Megumi expressed his faux distress with a groan. You only pinched his ear and told him to pay you back for your injuries, which made him complain again.

In the end, he was just happy you couldn’t see how much he struggled to hide his smile then, for if you saw it, you’d surely believe he was crazy.

Or so he thought. By the time you’d gotten back to the dorms, you were long passed out on his back. There was a small patch of drool on the back of his shirt and he shuddered, then wiped it away by whispering to himself, it’s okay – as long as it’s you.

Padding back to the dorms wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be, considering everyone was almost asleep or out to the city as well.

Megumi gently laid you down on the bed, wrapping the blanket around you and making sure your head was comfortable on the pillow. He stayed there for a solid minute, just staring and memorizing your pretty features until he felt confident he could draw it upon memory. Not wanting to be creepy though, he cleared his throat, about to leave the room when your fingers tugged at his wrist.

“Megumi,” you moaned sleepily, “Don’t go. It’s too cold.”

“I’ll get you another blanket.”

“No, stay,” you whined, patting the space next to you. “Please?”

“To sleep here with you?” he asked, baffled and at the same time elated. The last thing he wanted to be was a pervert and he’d never outright admit that his thoughts of you hadn’t always been giggles and rainbows, but he pushed those down, reminding himself that this is you – he respected you above all else. His self restraint slowly thinned though, whatnot with you pouting up at him like that.

Megumi groaned and took off his shoes anyway, planting himself beside you. “This is insane. I think I’m losing my mind,” he muttered to himself. “Move over and make space for me,” you obediently followed his command, using his bicep as a pillow while your cheek squished against his chest. He wondered how you weren’t bothered by his heart’s beating, or maybe it soothed you to sleep because you were falling deeper and deeper asleep, burying yourself in his arms. “God, this is so uncomfortable. I feel like I’m crushing you—”

“So warm,” you cut him off, his mind turning completely mental as he felt your lips pad over his chin. “Goodnight, Megumi.”

How did you expect him to sleep now?

But as soon as you’d settled and only your stabled breathing could be heard from the room, Megumi’s eyes began to droop as well, and it didn’t take long before his arms relaxed around you, lazily pulling the covers up to cover the both of you.

He’ll tell you another time.

“MEGUMI!” you pushed through everyone and showed him your paper, the bold red mark of 100 glaring back at him. Before he could respond, you stole his test paper from him, laughing at the sad 98 that showed. “Ah, I won!” In the blink of an eye, you’d tackled him to the ground, your knees keeping his legs locked underneath you, test papers flying around the field. Your hands were relentless and brutal as it ran and poked up his sides, eliciting squeaky little gasps from him.

“Stop, stop!” Megumi doubled over in laughter, keeping his feet flat on the ground to prevent himself from accidentally kneeing you. He’d hurt you enough during the ice skating dilemma – he didn’t want to cause you anymore injuries. “No, stop!”

“I won, Megumi, I won! Face the tickle monster!”

“I said stop or else!” he warned, completely aware that he wasn’t as threatening or serious as he wanted to be when tears leaked from his eyes, his laughter embarrassingly giggly and high pitched.

“Or what, loser?”

“I’ll kiss you until you shut up!”

“That’s adorable, but let’s see you try!” you kept tickling his sides, the both of you completely oblivious that the rest of your classmates – your teacher who was more than supportive of this pairing included – were hiding behind a bush, their phones whipped out to capture each second of this moment. “Loser!”

As you mocked him one more time that you wouldn’t stop tickling “losers,” Megumi had to draw the line. Using all his strength, he flipped you over until you were underneath him, the sheer force of the impact keeping you nestled between his arms.

Both of you were panting, but this time his breath was taken away from how beautiful you looked under him like that. Such innocent eyes staring back up at him, but don’t think for a moment he didn’t notice how your eyes trailed over his lips. He knew – because he was doing the same, his grip subconsciously gripping harder at your wrists. If he leaned down...

“This is taking too long!” someone whined from behind the bushes, tips of white hair peaking from the plant. “Just kiss her already!”

Both of you turned at the source of the voice, simultaneously shouting, “Gojo-sensei?!”

“Don’t be shy, Megumi-kun! Just tell her already or I’ll tell her myself.”

“Tell me what?”

Now that your face was peering up at him, he knew he was trapped. Cornered. Megumi closed his eyes, hands trembling and losing their grip around you as he was confronted by the situation. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” he fumbled over his words, “But I...I actually—”

“Boring! What kind of confession is this? Say it louder and clearer or she won’t be impressed! Is that how a man does it, Megumi-kun? You can do better—”

“All of you, shut the fuck up!” he roared to his peers who only cackled around the bushes, Yuuji and Gojo-sensei doubling over in laughter while Toge bit his collar to stop the gleeful sounds leaving his mouth. Irritation and humiliation bubbling up in his chest, Megumi finally found the courage to confess. “I like you, okay? I’ve always had a crush—”

You sat up to wrap your arms around his neck, silencing him with a sloppy kiss. At first, your lips kissed the edges of his mouth before Megumi groaned, his large hand clasping the back of your neck to guide you to where he wanted you to be. Smiling through the kiss, you pulled away, rubbing your nose on him affectionately. “Me too, Megumi,” you giggled, “I like you too. Actually, no, I fell in love the moment you almost broke your nose on the ice—” he cut you off by kissing you again, his grip on your waist threatening, “Hey, no fair, I was still confessing!”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ll kiss you to make you shut up,” his confidence had now risen up, all traces of the shy Megumi now gone. “Now tell me that again. Tell me you like me.”

“Okay, but can I get another kiss?”

“You’ll be spoiled rotten.”

“I think I deserve it, don’t you think? I’m pretty cute – you’re lucky you get to kiss—” Megumi tugged you by your collar to slam your lips on his, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. You tugged at his hair playfully and laughed, slapping his shoulder gently to tap out. “Fine, fine. I like you too!”

“Say it again. Please.”

“Not so shy now, eh, Megumi?” Satoru teased for the final time, and Megumi was so close to bursting a vein in his neck when his teacher showed up from the bushes, sexily posing on the grass as he winked at the both of you.

“SHUT UP!”

[loveaffaire]

Love Language

Pairing: Boyfriend!Tom Holland x reader

Summary: Even though Tom tells you that he loves you all the time, he has several other ways to show you that he loves you—really just Tom being a very loving, caring boyfriend.

Warnings/tags: mention of the pandemic, mention of a surgery, pure fluff, boyfriend!Tom

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: This photo is the whole reason that this fanfic now exists because Tom is giving off strong boyfriend vibes, enjoy🥺

You stared out of the huge window as you stood in the cold kitchen, swirling the spoon in the cup as your pretty little boyfriend, Tom, walked in the kitchen.

“Baby” he said, “I woke up alone” he complained.

You looked back at him to answer, “I had to use the washroom and then I couldn’t fall asleep so I just got up”

Tom nodded as he walked to where you were standing and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Why are you swirling the spoon in your milk?”

You let out a soft giggle, “I’m mixing sugar in my milk”

“Oh,” he frowned his eyebrows as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “don’t have too much sugar”

You walked to the kitchen sink to keep the spoon down as you turned around to take a look at Tom, “I’m 23”

“Sugar can affect anyone” he shrugged his shoulders as he opened the refrigerator to take out the ingredients to make pancakes.

“Touché” you said, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

“Did you take your vitamins?” Tom asked, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I forgot” you said and before Tom could scold you, you quickly said, “I’ll take them right now”

You scurried across the kitchen to open the small cupboard to take out your vitamins and gulped them down with the milk.

“I don’t mind reminding you to take them but what if I’m not here some day” Tom shook his head as he waited for you to answer.

“What do you mean by if you’re not here some day?” You stared at him stunned.

“No, no, I don’t mean it like that!” Tom hurried to you as he almost laughed, “I didn’t mean I won’t be here like that, I meant what if I’m at work”

“Oh”

“Yeah, like that,” Tom chuckled.

“You scared me” you frowned, gently hitting his shoulder.

“I worry about your health” Tom whispered as he gave you a small peck, “so don’t forget to take your vitamins, please”

“I promise, I won’t” you mumbled against his lips.

Tom taking care of your health and keeping a check on if you’re taking your vitamins is his way of showing you that he loves you.

•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•

Even though you consider yourself a huge introvert, the lockdown was kind of killing you. It has been a whole year in this lockdown and it was finally getting to you. The tragedies that were happening around the world because of the pandemic was breaking your heart and you thanked the heavens for keeping you and your family safe every time you watched the news.

Tom and you both had work from home now and even though you were thankful for being in the comfort of your home, the chair in your home office was starting to kill you and you desperately wanted to leave the house, even if it was just for a little while.

As you sat in your home office, typing away on your laptop, you huffed. It was so late and you were so tired, your back was killing you and you were pretty sure that your lip was bleeding by now because of biting on it too much.

You heard a knock on the door and then it was slowly pushed open, revealing Tom. He peeked inside of the room, his eyes landing on you as his lips stretched in a small smile.

“Can I come in?” He whispered.

“Yeah” you softly said, you twisted on your chair to face Tom as he approached you with a tea cup.

“I got you tea” he said, carefully putting down the cup on your table so as to not spill any liquid on your work stuff.

Your heart melted as you stared at his tired face. He bent down to give you a quick peck but you cupped his face in your hands before he could pull away. You gave him a chaste kiss, moving to his cheeks, you littered small kisses on his cheekbones.

“You just had a meeting, right?” You asked.

“Yes, I did” Tom nodded, his hands coming up to your shoulders to massage them.

“And instead of relaxing after it, you made me tea?”

Tom smiled against your lips, “I know you’ve been tired, just wanted to take care of ya”

You smiled as you pulled him down further, he was half sitting on your chair now, “if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to leave,” Tom laughed.

“I love you, thank you” you said as you nudged your nose to his, he softly giggled.

“Anything for you, I’ll do anything for you” Tom said sincerely.

You bit your lips as you stared at him lovingly, “stop biting your lip and come to bed when you get over with work” Tom said as he softly pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb.

“I’ll be waiting for you” he said as he got up, slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind.

Tom making you tea even though he’s just as tired as you is his way of showing you that he loves you.

•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•

“Hi baby” Tom gushed when you slipped under the covers.

“Hi” you whispered, laying down on the bed and opening your arms for Tom.

He moved closer to you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and softly kissing your neck.

“You smell good” you hummed, your face pressed to his soft brown curls.

“I used your shampoo today” he whipped his face up to look into your eyes.

“And also my conditioner,” you said, taking another sniff of his hair.

Tom laughed as he agreed with you. He pressed his face into your chest as his hand snaked under your camisole.

“Tom” you muttered, pulling at his arm to stop him.

You had a kidney stone surgery months ago and that surgery left a pretty big scar on the side of your stomach. Even though it’s been 5 months to it, you still didn’t like how it scarred your body and Tom knew that very well.

You didn’t change your clothes with the lights on anymore and sometimes you wouldn’t even take off your night dress when Tom made love to you.

“What?” Tom huffed.

“Don’t do that” you said as you pulled down your camisole.

“Y/N, I told you, the scar is nothing to be worried about” Tom pulled his body up as he looked up at you.

“It’s ugly” you whispered.

“It’s not-” Tom sat up straight as he held your hand in his huge ones.

“Listen to me, you struggled with something and fought it, the scar shows that you’re brave. You were so strong to go through a wholeass surgery and you didn’t even cry, not even once”

You smiled as you heard Tom ramble, he went on, “hell, do you know I was crying in the waiting room and Harry was laughing at me. He said that if I’m crying about a normal surgery then I’d probably pass out when we’ll have a baby”

“We’ll have a baby?” You asked with your hand on your heart, he was just so cute.

“What- I mean- yeah in the future” you raised your eyebrows at him and Tom’s cheeks flushed red, “but that’s not the point, the point is that-”

Tom sighed as he lifted your camisole and you let him, he gently traced your scar as he bent down to give your scar a soft kiss.

“This scar isn’t ugly, it’s beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful” he praised.

“Okay, please stop” you said as you covered your face with your hands, “I’m gonna start crying”

Tom laughed as he moved up to your face and pressed a kiss to your lips. You hummed in the kiss, content with how the conversation ended up.

Tom kissing your scar and telling you how beautiful you are is his way of showing you that he loves you.

•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•

Tom always had this strong urge to cuddle you in the middle of his sleep so even when he would be in a deep slumber, he would always always always want to hold you as you both slept.

And that was what he was trying to do right now, he switched from his left side to his right side and stretched out his arm to find your body to grab and pull in.

But as he mindlessly felt your side of the bed with his hand, your body was nowhere to be found. He barely opened his eyes to peek, only to see your body almost hanging off at the side of the bed.

You must have moved on the further right side and now you were close to falling off the bed. As Tom realised that you were going to fall, he quickly sat up and scooped your body in his strong arms, pulling you away from the side of the bed.

“Tom” you mumbled in your sleep.

“You were gonna fall off the bed, baby” he mumbled back as he settled you in the middle of the bed.

He pulled the covers over both of your bodies as he wrapped his arms around you to cuddle.

You gently smiled in your half asleep state, “oh”

Tom sighed in happiness as he kissed your shoulder, his body relaxing as sleep took over him again.

Tom saving you from falling off the bed and on your ass in the middle of the night is his way of showing you that he loves you.

© loveaffaire

[luveline]

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

-

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

[mayhemscorner]

Passive aggressive Shino x F!reader

Warnings: SMUT, slight spitting kink, daddy kink, if you squint some degradation.

🔞Minors DNI (I’ve debated on even posting this? May re-write in the future as I’m not fully sure if I like it)

It had been a long day training the new round of genin, finally acquiring her own team to train, and Y/N had exhausted herself. However, she never said no to a few drinks with friends to catch up. Kiba and Hinata had already grabbed a table and flagged her down.

“Anyone else coming or just us?” She questions, looking for a count of how many shots she’ll need to order.

“Shino’s wrapping up at the academy. Choji and Ino are on their way now.” Hinata answers while worriedly watching as her friend turns in the direction of the bar. Returning with 5 shots and a bottle of sake a few moments later, Y/N notices everyone else has finally arrived and made themselves comfortable.

“Well here’s to another generation of shinobi and another year of of me being single. Also to Hinata, who sadly won’t be drinking with us for the next six months or so.” Y/N huffs, still torn after her last relationship went down the gutter several weeks ago. She found it pathetic two of her friends were due to be married, one was already pregnant, and here she was all alone. The shot burns at her throat, and is only followed with a few more from a quick drinking contest with Kiba. Both of them cradling each other and blubbering over small inconveniences, the others look between the two.

“I’ll take Kiba home, Ino needs to get going. Hinata, would you be able to walk Y/N back?” Choji asks while pulling Kiba to his feet.

“You’ll find a good partner one day, Kiba! Never give up!” Y/N shouts as Kiba cries back to her,”never! Go get that man tonight! Tell me how it goes in the morning!” Hinata stares at the leaning girl in front of her and questions how she’ll ever get her home with the condition she was in.

“Hinata, go home. I’ll make sure she gets back safe.” Shino pipes up behind her. She mumbles a reply of thanks and escapes out the front door. Walking up to her slowly and placing a hand on her back, Shino tries everything in his power to be gentle, not wanting to hurt her in anyway. She whips her head up from the table to meet his glasses, only inches away.

“Shino! I’ve missed you, and your handsome face… well what I can see of it anyways.” She trails off while giggling.

“Let me take you home, you should get some water and rest.” He tells her in his best fatherly voice. She reaches her hands out with her fingers outstretched,”carry me?” She asks sweetly while puffing out her lower lip. He relents, finally scooping her up, situating her on his back and heading for the door, only stopping to make sure everyone’s bills were paid. Nights out usually ended like this, Kiba pushing someone too far and someone having to be carried home. Y/N just happened to be the unlucky victim tonight. His green overcoat whips against the wind as a sleeping Y/N clings effortlessly to his back, making it easier to jump between buildings to her home. He searches for the spare key only he and Kiba could reach and unlocks the door quickly before heading in. As soon as he enters safely inside, she pops her head up from his shoulder,

“I wasn’t sleeping, I just wanted a free ride home.” She chuckles from behind him. He only smirks, seeing through her lie before setting her down on the couch and pacing hurriedly to get her some water from the fridge.

“Shino, let me grab it. I’m not too tipsy anymore. I promise.” She insists, making her way over, way too clean for a drunk person who had been wobbling moments ago.

“You were faking it?” He asses with an eyebrow raised and slightly impressed from her act.

“I didn’t want to hurt Kiba’s ego. My tolerance has gotten too high from nights out with him. Besides, I got to be carried home by you. Hinata and I figured out if you act drunk, Kiba tends to finish your shots and he’s the only one who regrets it in the morning.” She explains the devious, but genius plan the two girls agreed upon. Shino hoped to remember this tactic next time they went drinking, knowing soon he would be Kiba’s next target. She pulls out a kettle and gets water brewing on the stove.

“But since you’re here, stay for a while and hangout would ya?” She asks him. He nods curtly, slipping off his jacket to reveal a defining, black long sleeve shirt. Y/N gazes at his exposed midriff a little too long and Shino catches her gaze briefly.

“Sorry.” He quickly apologizes, tugging at the bottom of his shirt and looking down, trying to cover his blushing face.

“No need to apologize. Just admiring the view.” She quips back immediately and grabbing two cups from the cabinet to distract herself.

“So, which man are you after that Kiba was blabbering about earlier?” He questions her, feeling guilty she was here with him instead of the man she wanted. With her back turned however, he can’t see her own blush crawling up her face. He was here, in her house, after having just carried her all the way home from the bar.

“Oh that’s just Kiba rambling, you know how he gets when we drink.” She brushes the comment away with the swish of her hand, raising more suspicion from Shino. Finally setting the two cups down and pouring each glass halfway full, she relaxes in the chair beside his. After what felt like hours of sitting in a comfortable silence, her tiredness causes her to droop her head against his shoulder softly.

“Listen, with a body like yours, it’s a wonder you’re still single. Truly.” She mumbles, sleepiness making it hard not to spew things from her mouth. It was now him who was blushing at the comments being said. He preferred not to show his body, feeling he had too many flaws including his milky white scars from missions and the war. She runs a hand down his chest boldly, feeling every ripple of muscle, waking herself up slightly at the realization of what she’d done. Well, better now than never she thought to herself.

“Though, I do wonder how you’d look hovering over me in bed.” She yawns, standing up to stretch and head to her bedroom, content with putting the image in his head as well as her own. He comes up quietly from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and trailing his breath down her neck threateningly, stopping her in her tracks.

“That man Kiba was talking about at the bar, it’s me. Isn’t it?” He breathes, hovering his lips over the nape of her neck lustfully. He finally had the whole picture… and she wanted him. There and now. He can’t help but realize he’s always wanted the same. Pining over the way she even day dreamed during missions, the way she walked through the gates on a sunny day and the sun would cause her hair to glisten as she stared off in the distance, lost in her own little world. She nods in reply, gasping at the sensation of his tongue tracing up her neck and the subtle breath he blows on it to make her shiver. Her whole plan to get Shino in her house had worked flawlessly. Tilting her head back to meet his eyes, she finally breathes out a small yes to reassure his wandering mind.

“You truly want to see how I’d look on top of you? I can make that happen.” He whispers in her ear before nibbling at the lobe playfully.

“Please.” She hums innocently, even though she was already rearing to get in to her room. He hooks an arm under her legs and swoops her up to carry her to the room without another word. As experienced as she was, Shino somehow had her beat, though she never recalls him ever being intimate with anyone. Pure seduction leaked out with the words from his lips. She hasn’t even kissed him yet, and she was ready to put a ring on his finger. Setting her down gently at the edge of the bed, he grasps the bottom of his shirt once again. Only this time pulling it off in one swift motion, making a show of it and letting her watch in awe. He was a chiseled masterpiece, the only thing missing was a ‘do not touch’ plaque. Crawling up to her and pressing her gently in to the pillows, he hovers above her, just as she described her fantasy earlier in the night. She wasn’t expecting a necklace with his clans symbol to dangle in her line of vision but found it an odd turn on, not ever knowing he wore jewelry under his many layers. She pulls loosely at it, capturing his lips in a heated and needing kiss. He tugs at her hair while she fumbles to untie his with her other hand, finally releasing his shoulder length dark and silky hair. She moans in desperation when he pulls her head back to meet his gaze. Glasses discarded quickly, he squints his eyes at her before placing a thumb on her bottom lip.

“Open that pretty mouth of yours.” He growls lowly as she obliges almost too quickly. She could’ve lost her clothes then and there at his demanding voice, heat pooling in between her legs. He promptly slides his tongue out, letting a thin line of spit drip in to her open mouth before connecting their lips and shoving his tongue between her slightly parted ones. She moans around it, barely able to contain her excitement at this point. She tries to grasp at his pants, just to have her hands gripped with only one of his tightly. He truly was a giant, towering above her and his massive hand size, she could only imagine what was hiding behind his quickly tightening pants.

“You can take them off when I say so.” He huffs out, releasing his tongue from her now slack open mouth. She was truly astonished, innocent Shino was this dirty? It had to be a wet dream, one she never wanted to wake from. He slides his hands under her shirt, slowly slipping it off and unhooking her bra effortlessly. He soon works on her pants, leaving her fully bare before him. Still somewhat dressed and satisfied, he positions himself at the edge of the bed.

“Come.” He demands in an intimidating voice and pointing down to the area in front of him. She crawls on her knees just before him and looks up, waiting for his next demand. He only grabs her neck softly, pressing firmly in the right areas to set her off once again. He uses his other hand to slowly push his pants down, just enough for her to catch a glimpse at the quickly growing bulge tucked under his boxers. She watches in amazement as it keeps going, and going, and going as he pulls his pants further down. She was in for a long night if her eyes didn’t deceive her. Finally springing loose from his boxers she can view all of him in astonishment. She questions if she’ll even be able to take it all.

“Kiss it, I know you want to.” He moans suddenly, leaning down so his lips were pressed against her ear, never once releasing his hold on her neck. She really wanted to, she couldn’t hold back any longer and his beckoning only made her want it more. Wrapping a hand around the base, she places a soft kiss on the tip and swirls her tongue around quickly, only to be pushed back.

“I only said kiss it. Don’t get too impatient on me.” He coos down to her hungry gaze, finally allowing her to indulge fully at his length. She gags, trying to fit it all, but her effort was futile. He was simply too big. He arouses her more with his soft moans, praising her in between,”good girl. Does my cock feel good in your mouth?” He teases, pumping slightly outwards so she can catch her breath. She nods, moaning around his cock and sending shivers through his body.

“That’s a good little slut, maybe I might just fuck you if you keep it up.” He praises her. She loved the perfect balance between praises and degrading words. He was truly too good.

“Please daddy.” She breathes looking up to bat her eyelashes and begging insistently. He groans and twitches at the name, shoving her down with a leading hand.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He gasps, the ache of excitement building up quickly. Dipping two of his fingers seductively in his mouth and making a show of it, he presses them hard against her clit and circles lazily around it. His cock soon lines up underneath his pulsing hand and he only gives her the tip, seeing how tight she was just around the first section. She twitches uneasily at the girth, stretching her aching walls. Bucking her hips forward, Shino stops her.

“I don’t want to hurt you, we can go slow for now.” He mumbles, trying to stifle a pleasurable groan bubbling at his throat. He starts off slowly, watching and stopping anytime pain would contort her face and only continuing when she gave a nod of approval.

“Such a good girl.” He praises again once fully in. He tests the waters and pumps hard one time to hear a shriek of pleasure from his partner.

“M-more please.” She stutters, clawing at his back with need.

“More please what?” He barks in question.

“More please. D-daddy.” She answers, barely able to contain another wave of pleasure. He pumps harder and faster, setting them both on edge.

“G-gonna c-cum.. please.” She stutters between gasps and groans.

“Do it.” He beckons, finally letting her release. Her walls squeeze at his member, making him go dizzy as her warmth rushes and floods around him. His movements now become sloppy and haphazard, refusing to give in just yet. Wave after wave crashes over her, yet he waits for her begging voice, asking for him to cum.

“Cum, p-please.” She manages to finally ask.

“Where?” He huffs in return.

“In me.” She exhales, pulling him down for a kiss. He moans in to her mouth as he finally releases himself, pulling out to watch as his seed drips from her swollen cunt.

“Good job, princess.” He breathes heavily, while trying to catch his breath. He places his forehead to hers and kisses her sweetly.

“How about we get cleaned up and call it a night?” He questions, motioning for the shower.

After showering he lays on his back under the covers waiting for her to return. She finally steps out, biting her lip nervously.

“Shino, I- you… You’re amazing. Is this even real? Do you want this?” She blabbers, waiting by the doorway of her bathroom.

“I’ve always wanted this. But what I’ve wanted more is you in my arms. Now get over here and get some sleep.” He motions her over with a smirk and open arms. She tries hard not to giggle giddily and falls in to his embrace. Exhausted and completely spent, they stroke each others hair comfortingly and drift off in the most peaceful sleep either of them have ever had. Her night had ended perfectly. Finally getting the man she had always wanted and being kissed goodnight after a true phenomenon he called sex. She couldn’t wait until morning to wake up by his side, head tucked lazily beneath his chin and wearing his black undershirt to the kitchen to make breakfast. There was no way she would screw this up. But she was definitely rubbing her newfound love in Kiba’s face at lunch.

[kkodzvken]

take the dive - sugawara koushi x milf!reader

tags/warnings: smut, 18+ ONLY! slight dubcon, infidelity, post timeskip (suga teaches reader’s kids). overstimulation and slight dumbification, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public (in an empty classroom)

a/n: this is my piece for @ultimate-astridwriting’s milf fuckers collab, which you can find here!! thank you for hosting this astrid, and thank u to everyone in the server for ur love and support as i worked on this <33. title cred: take the dive by jonghyun

wc: 3.9k

Amidst a faculty full of stuffy old dinosaurs and suits, Sugawara Koushi is a breath of fresh air. He’s a welcome distraction, a pretty face to focus on at dull PTA meetings and assemblies. And you knew that you weren’t the only one making heart eyes at him. Everywhere that he went, heads turned, and moms whispered. At the bus stop, on the sidelines of sports matches, in the waiting rooms outside dance classes.

It was just that, though -- just whispers. Little knowing glances and nudged shoulders, dreamy sighs and brief sinful indulgences. Nothing more than a brief escape from the monotony of your everyday lives. You’d lose yourselves in the fantasy for a few seconds, and then pull your heads down from the clouds and plant your feet on solid ground. You enjoyed your gossip with the other moms, and then you returned home, to your husband and children. To your family.

You love them, of course. Your children are your world, and your husband is a good man. He’s a good man, and that’s what made it so hard. He treats you well, keeps his words soft and never once put his hands on you. 

He may be good, but, God, was he boring. You can’t remember the last time that he’d even kissed you, let alone fucked you. He came home later and later each night, too tired from work to do anything but silently scarf down his dinner and plant himself on the couch in front of the television. He dragged himself into bed hours after you did. He tried to be quiet, he really did, but he woke you up every single night with his stomping and shuffling. When you snuggled closer to him, he pushed you off. My back hurts too bad, he’d say, voice tinged with regret. Remind me to book another appointment with the chiropractor. 

It was always some excuse or another. 

So, really, you couldn’t blame yourself for your wandering eye. You weren’t going to act on it, of course -- you weren’t a cheater -- but the young teacher was something to occupy yourself with. A pretty face to fill your thoughts as you wrangled your horde of screaming kids from swim lessons to dance practice to art classes. A pretty, pretty body to imagine as you fucked yourself with your fingers, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to muffle your moans. You couldn’t help but imagine that it was him, lithe body leaning over yours. No complaints of aching backs and sore muscles, none of the complications that came with age. 

You’d leave your husband catatonic on the couch, put the kids to sleep, and then go dream of their hot teacher. You should’ve been more ashamed, but there was a part of you that loved the thrill of it. You flushed whenever you saw Mr. Sugawara the next morning, memories of your illicit thoughts filling your mind, but it also made your body feel electric. 

Of course there was a part of you that longed to throw caution to the wind and jump the young man, but your conscience was much stronger than your weak, lustful thoughts. You were happy with the way things were now. As dull as your husband was, and as insufferable as the children could sometimes be, you were happy. 

This was all you had ever wanted. A house in the suburbs, a husband with a well-paying job, three kids and a dog. You’re living the fucking dream. You’re happy, you tell yourself.

So why the fuck are you so unsatisfied?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With a deep breath, you stare down the heavy glass doors at the school’s entrance. You want nothing more than to find the idiot architect who designed this building, and strangle him for installing pull doors. Your arms are already sore from carrying the giant tray of brownies from your car to the front of the school, and you worry that if you put the treats down to open the door, you wouldn’t be able to lift them up again. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you have two minutes left to reach the gym where the bake sale is being held. The PTA president is notorious for hating latecomers, and you weren’t in the mood to get your head bit off.

You’re debating doing some gymnastics and using your foot to grab the handle, when you notice footsteps approaching from behind you. You open your mouth to ask for help, but they beat you to it. “Let me get the door,” says their syrupy, melodic voice.

Their familiar voice.

Your body practically freezes as a strong arm reaches over your shoulder. Long fingers – fingers that you’ve fantasized about too many times to count – twist the handle and push it open easily. You don’t know how you didn’t notice him approaching sooner, but now that he’s here, your senses are in overdrive. The sweet scent of his cologne, the sound of his breath, the warmth of his body – it’s all too much, and it makes your knees feel weak.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you say, voice coming out much breathier than you intended. This must be some kind of Pavlovian response from all your fantasizing, because there is no reason for your stomach to be twisting right now. “Thank you.”

He grins sheepishly and steps away, and you hate the way that your body screams at you to lean into him. “It’s no problem. Is that for the bake sale? Here, let me carry it for you.”

You try to protest, but there’s really no point. His long fingers are already pushing yours to the sides, and you swear you’ve been electrified as he pulls the tray out of your hands. It’s a shame, really, that he’s wearing a button-down. The sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, at least, but you would’ve loved to see his biceps flex as he carried that tray…

What am I doing? You dig your nails into your palm to snap yourself out of your thoughts, but it’s hard to stay lucid when he’s so beautiful. He carries the brownies with ease, using just one arm to support their weight as the other holds the door open for you. It should make you upset, that you’re so weak in comparison to him, but the thought just makes you feel even more breathless. He’s so strong, so young, and so unlike your husband.

“Thank you,” you say again as he steps into the building behind you. You reach for the tray, but he waves you off.

“Nonsense. I’ll walk you to the gym.”

“Oh, really, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. Anything for my favorite mom.”

His…favorite? His words leave you too stupefied to protest any further, and he takes your silence as compliance. Your body automatically follows in his footsteps as he paces down the hallways.

He looks over at you and smiles comfortingly. It lights up his entire face, but does little to ease your turbulent thoughts.

Your mind is still fixated on his words as you step onto the squeaky wood flooring of the gymnasium. Sugawara calmly walks over to the PTA president, who looks like she’s about to rip her hair out. She’s surrounded by a gaggle of other moms, all jabbering away with concern painted across their faces.

“Is something wrong, ladies?” he asks. His voice snaps them all out of their conversation, and their eyes widen as they take him in.

“Yes,” says the PTA president scornfully. “We were supposed to have the brownies here already! The sale starts in ten minutes, and if this keeps up, I won’t have enough time to inventory everything and make it presentable, and –”

“I have the brownies,” you cut in, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

She blanches, and looks from you to the tray in Sugawara’s arms. An oh is all she can muster before grabbing the brownies and rushing off.

“Is everything okay?” one of the other moms asks, her voice laced with fake sweetness. “Oh, and you look so tired, dear. If you couldn’t manage your part, you should’ve just said so!”

“It would’ve been no trouble,” another woman says. “I’d have had no trouble whipping up a tray for you! Everyone always does love my baking.”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to snap at them. It’s always like this – the other moms seem so in tune with their lives of domestic bliss, playing games of politics and constantly competing to be the best. Try as you might, you just can’t satisfy yourself with a life like theirs.

The material of Sugawara’s shirt brushes against you, and you start. He doesn’t pull away as you flinch, instead gently resting his hand on the small of your back. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal her away? Mrs. (L/N), I have your son’s science fair project sitting in my classroom. He keeps forgetting to bring it home. Would you like to go collect it now?”

You nod, relieved at the excuse to escape these women and their sickening artificial sweetness. Sugawara gently guides you with the hand on your back. You can’t help but internally smirk at the thinly-veiled jealousy on the faces of the other mothers.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Sugawara says, once you’re safely out of earshot. “All these PTA moms are so fake. But you���re not like that, are you?”

You nod, still a bit convinced that this is all a dream. He doesn’t remove his hand from your back as you walk down the hallways, and only pulls away when you reach the door to his classroom. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a ring of keys, before insert one into the knob and pushing the door open. He gestures for you to enter first, and so you do, blinking at the harsh sudden brightness of the automatic lights.

You awkwardly glance around the room. You’ve been here plenty of times before, but that was all during the daytime, when it was packed full of energetic children. It feels…strange, to be alone in a classroom as an adult. Or, well, alone, except for the stupidly attractive teacher that you’ve been lusting over.

“Where’s the project?” you ask, trying to diffuse some of the tension building in your stomach. “I should head home soon.”

Sugawara leans his back against the door and cocks his head. “You know, I know what you say about me.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” His eyes rove across your body, lingering on your chest for far longer than they should. “I’m not deaf, you know. I hear all the things you say about me. You’re just like all the other moms.” He pushes off the door, stalking closer to you. You instinctively take a step back. “Only difference is, you might actually have the guts to do something about it.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, so hard that you think your ribs might bruise. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Sugawara. I-”

You take another step back, and another, and suddenly your back collides with concrete. Your body jolts, and you yelp at the sudden pain.

Sugawara leans closer. One of his hands braces against the board behind your head, and the other one comes up to cradle your face. His long fingers hook under your chin and press, forcing you to tilt your head up and meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lip, and you can’t deny how the sensation makes your body feel like jelly.

Every rational thought in your mind is screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away from him and go back to your husband, but God, it’s been so long since you’ve felt like this. It’s been so long since someone’s made your heart race and your breaths quicken, since someone’s made you blush like a schoolgirl over a simple touch.

“What was that you said?” he asks, his voice dripping with honey. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You swallow and bite the inside of your cheek. The pain does nothing to clear the fog inside your mind. “I-I don’t, I-”

“You do,” he interrupts, his thumb still toying with your lip. “You’re so fucking obvious. I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you?”

“Mr. Sugawara!” His lewd words make you gasp, but more than anything, you hate the fact that he’s right. Your body has a mind of its own, and it wants nothing more than to wrap your lips around his thumb and pull him closer. It wants to feel his arms wrapped around you, feel his body towering over you.

But you can’t. As much as you want to, you can’t, because you have a husband at home who’s waiting for you. Sure, he isn’t home right now, because he’s putting in extra hours at the office. And sure, he hasn’t touched you or made you feel desired in weeks. Hell, you haven’t had a genuine conversation in weeks. But he’s still your husband! You try and remind yourself of that. You roll the thought around in your head, hoping that it’ll push your thoughts of Sugawara away.

But the young teacher is persistent, and there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes your chest tighten. “Call me Koushi, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess –”

“What, you’re going to pretend that it didn’t make you wetter? Going to pretend that you aren’t clenching your thighs together right now?” He leans in even closer, so that his breath brushes against your ear as he whispers. “Your body doesn’t lie, baby.”

A whine slips past your lips at his words, and then you gasp, mortified with yourself. But the grin that covers his face makes your transgression worth it, because God, he’s handsome. His hand squeezes your chin even tighter, and then trails down to your neck. Your breath catches in your chest. You’re hyperaware of his every movement, of his fingers trailing across your skin, his touch feather-light. It leaves you aching for more.

You instinctively whine again, and he lets out a noise of surprised delight. “Whining like this, and you’re still denying that you want me? What’s got you so embarrassed?”

“I have a husband,” you hiss – or, at least, you try to hiss. It comes out more like a whimper than anything else.

Sugawara looks at you for a beat – and then throws his head back and laughs. It catches you off guard, and you furrow your brow. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

He collects himself, but his eyes are still gleaming when he looks back at you. “Sure, you have a husband. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about me, does it? Tell me, when’s the last time that your husband took care of you? When’s the last time that he touched you, or fucked you, or made you feel good?”

“Mr. Sugawara, this is inappropriate–”

“Stop lying to yourself.” His voice suddenly drops, his stare forceful and deadly serious. “Say the word, and I’ll go. We can pretend this never happened. But anyone with eyes can tell that you’re unsatisfied.”

“I…I don’t…” Your thoughts feel like a wave, building higher and higher. They bounce around your head, reverberating against your skull, so loud that you can’t even think.

“Why are you settling?”

“Mr. Sugawara, please, I–”

“Why are you settling, when you know you want more?”

The wave crests.

You don’t know who moves first, but somehow, your fingers are tangled in his hair, and his lips are slotted against yours. It’s not soft, or sweet – it’s a mess of teeth and tongues and feverish breaths. His hands are everywhere. They trail over your skin, explore the curves of your chest and your stomach, grip tightly at your waist to pull you closer.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you pant against his lips. Your lungs scream for oxygen, but you can’t bear to drag yourself away from him for even a second. He kisses so well. It may be rushed, and messy, but there’s so much hunger behind his actions that it makes your head spin. It’s like his lips are a live wire, and every second that they touch yours, they send a thousand volts of electricity arcing through your body.

“Koushi,” he breathes. “Call me Koushi, please.” You nod, and then hurriedly undo the buttons of his shirt, popping a few off in the process. Neither of you care. His hands finally dip beneath the hem of your dress, and he wastes no time in unceremoniously tugging it off your body.

Your hands instinctively go to cover yourself. Age and childbirth have changed your body, and you know that Mr. Sugawara – no, Koushi – is probably used to beautiful young women. You still don’t understand why his eye landed on you. He surely has dozens of girls his age fawning over him, with flat stomachs and perky tits. Why you?

He grips your wrists and pries your hands away from your body. “Don’t do that,” he says, so gentle in contrast to the fire from just moments ago. “Don’t cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.”

Oh.

You can’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful. You can’t remember the last time that you felt beautiful.

But right now, with Koushi staring at you, eyes blown out with lust… you feel it.

He sinks onto his knees, lips already pressing little kisses against your hips and upper thighs. You try and protest – really, Koushi, you don’t have to – but he shushes you instantly. He hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder and dives in without hesitation. Even through the fabric of your panties, you’re in fucking heaven. His tongue laves against your clit, focusing so much attention onto the swollen bead that you can’t help but let out a moan.

You slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. You’re in an elementary school, for God’s sake. The bake sale is at the other side of the large building, but you’re terrified of someone walking past and catching you. Guilt swirls around your heart, but it’s quick to dissipate when Koushi tugs your panties off and throws them over his shoulder. He buries himself into your cunt again, and it’s even better without the barrier. The coil in your stomach is tightening embarrassingly fast, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care. His tongue laps at your folds, slurping lewdly.

The pleasure is overwhelming. Your body moves of its own accord. Your hips grind against Koushi’s face, and he moans right into your cunt. His lips move up to your clit again, alternating between licking and sucking. You’re so focused on his mouth that you barely notice his fingers, so long and pretty, collecting your wetness.

You do notice when he fucks two of those pretty fingers into you. He immediately starts scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, before hooking them against that spot inside of you that makes your head spin. Your entire body is shaking with euphoria, so much that you can’t handle it.

“Close,” you cry out, trying to keep yourself upright. “Close, close, please, don’t stop!”

He moans into you again when you tug at his hair. It’s the push that you need to finally fall over the edge. You bite into your palm to keep from screaming as you gush all over him, chest heaving and eyes tearing up.

He keeps curling his fingers, keeps lapping at your clit, until you tug on his hair and cry that the overstimulation is too much. As he lets your leg down and stands up, he makes a show of licking your cum off his fingers, slurping on them loudly. It would make you embarrassed, but you’re too focused on his other hand as it dips down to his belt. The muscles of his stomach flex as he undoes the buckle. You take the opportunity to rake your eyes over his toned torso. He seems so slender when he’s dressed, but his shoulders are surprisingly broad.

He looks up at you with a little smirk. “Caught you staring,” he teases. You blush as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one go, freeing his cock. It’s already hard, and so pretty, just like him. His tip is red and dripping with precum. You want so badly to get a taste, but Koushi has other plans. He spins you by your shoulders, and then presses at the small of your back to make you lay across his desk.

You groan when you feel him slap his cock against your ass a few times, before running it through your folds to collect your wetness. “Please,” you gasp. “No teasing, please.”

“Just came, and you’re already needy?” he chuckles. “That husband of yours must really not be satisfying you.”

You’re spared from having to think of a retort by him sinking into you. A cry leaves your lips, but it’s too good for you to even care about the sound. He feels like heaven as he sinks into you. His cock stretches you out deliciously.

You’re already feeling delirious as he starts to shallowly thrust and work his way in. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. “So – fuck…”

You can’t do anything but moan and scratch at the table as he starts to fuck into you in earnest. His cock is perfectly curved to hit your spot every time, and soon you’re reduced to a mess underneath him. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust. It hurts, it’s all too much, but it’s so fucking good. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure like this – mind numbing and all consuming, so powerful that it makes your eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” he groans again, bending down so that he can loom over you and leave little bites all over your back and shoulders. “Not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that, shit!”

“Faster, please,” you beg, and he obliges. He sets an absolutely brutal pace, somehow managing to fuck you hard, fast, and at the perfect angle all at once. Moans and cries spill freely out of your open mouth. When he reaches forward to toy with your clit, it’s all too much, and it sends you over the edge again. Your body practically spasms as he fucks you through your second orgasm. He shows you no mercy, gives you no time to come down. You don’t know if you’re coming again, or if you just never stopped. Your mind is hazy with pleasure and overstimulation.

You’re a twitching mess by the time that he pulls out, but you still whine at the loss. You’re far too fucked out to turn around and look at him, but in the corner of your consciousness, you can hear him panting and stroking himself furiously. His moans are so beautiful. Within a few short seconds, he’s coming all over your ass, painting your pretty skin white with his seed.

You don’t know how long you’re laying there before he taps your cheek to get your attention. “C’mon now,” he says, a tired smile on his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. We wouldn’t want your husband finding out, would we?”

[hiddles-and-skittles]

Ride

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,585

Summary: Gatherings can't be that bad, right? Especially if your boyfriend convinces you to ditch early for a ride home on his motorcycle. It's just unfortunate he's gotta rile you up beforehand.. .

Warnings: 18+, kinda masturbation/edging by motorcycle???, teasing, pet names; sweetheart, doll, cocky Bucky (what? He's definitely a warning)

Notes: This idea came to me and I absolutely could NOT put it down. I don't typically write smut or anything along those lines, so any feedback is appreciated! This is way out of my comfort zone😅

____________

"Come on, Sam is waiting on us."

You roll your eyes and dramatically throw yourself back on the bed. "Yeah well, Sam can wait. I don't even want to be there."

"And you think I do?" He calls to you, pulling on his gloves and nearly stomping back towards your room.

"Bucky, I don't want to go." He stands in your doorway and you pout at him, making him sigh.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. "I know. But who says we gotta stay all night?" At this, you raise up from your mopey position. "We make an appearance, talk to Sam for a little while, then get lost in the crowd and disappear. He won't even notice."

You hum thoughtfully. "Good point." You swing your legs over the bed and slip into your Converse shoes, plastering a smile to your face and gleefully skipping due to the fact you'll get to leave early.

Sam was having a reunion party with some buddies from his Afghanistan tours. It was a huge event downtown, but neither you nor Bucky was a big fan of crowds. So the two of you only considered going in support of Sam.

Bucky stopped on the apartment complex's steps, narrowing his eyes at an empty parking spot. "He took my bike."

You snorted. "Cab it is."

________

Shortly you arrive at the event and he opens the cab door for you, his knuckles grazing down your arm to catch your hand in his. The action sends a shudder through your body and he smirks, stopping to give you a scheming look.

"What?" you ask him, furrowing your eyebrows and squeezing his hand.

"Nothing," he simpers.

You decide to be suspicious of him for the rest of the evening.

There are a plethora of people but you both advance through the crowd in search of Sam, Bucky stopping you to point out that Sam is quite preoccupied. He nudges you towards the most empty table he can find so you can sit down. On either side of you both is an empty seat, and the rest of the chairs are filled by half-drunk, burly men sporting drinks.

One of them turns to you and introduces himself and his comrades. A few of them take quick note of Bucky's name, quoting something Sam has mentioned about him before then thanking Bucky for his service. You wrap your arm around his middle and look up at him with pride, nuzzling yourself closer to your soldier.

You're both quiet as the vets around you continue their chatter about their best times, their laughter making the atmosphere light. You have to admit, you might actually be enjoying yourself. You're lost in a story about a guy teaching his kid how to hot wire a car when a hand squeezes your thigh.

Your knee immediately jerks and hits the table and you have to bite your bottom lip to stifle a yelp. A few heads turn in your direction and as you feel the warmth spreading to your face, you feign a sneeze, apologizing for the interruption. Bucky remains dead panned, although the sides of his mouth subtly quirk up. You glare at him. "Bless you, sweetheart," he patronizes. You shift uncomfortably as the men return to their conversations.

His hand makes its way back to your thigh and you inhale sharply through your nose. "Bucky," you whimper, swallowing hard.

"Gotta keep quiet for me, doll, or I'll stop," he tuts lowly. Instinctively you spread your legs a little to make enough room for his hand. Your breath hitches as he circles your clit with his middle finger, lightly tracing down your clothed mound. You curse yourself for wearing jeans, because the thickness of the denim heavily affects the way he feels against you.

But you want more.

He presses harder until Sam struts over to the table, and Bucky innocuously throws his arm around your shoulder. You huff in frustration and he chuckles.

"Surprised you two haven't left yet," Sam laughs, sipping a beer and slapping a hand over Bucky's shoulder.

"Why would we do that?" Bucky asks sarcastically.

Sam rolls his eyes playfully. "Stay awhile, enjoy the sunset and have a drink. They're all on the house." You both pause in thought. "I knew that would convince you!"

"Well," you start. "The sky is gorgeous right now. Maybe just one drink till the sun sets."

Someone then calls for Sam and he excuses himself, telling you he'll see you back at home later. You watch him disappear into the crowd, reality hitting you that you're still worked up from Bucky's teasing. And all it takes is a devious look from him to get you riled up again. You shoot up from your seat to thank the vets around you for their service, and tell them that it was nice to meet them, but you have some personal matters to attend to at home. Bucky follows suit, grabbing your hand.

You try to push your way through the crowd without an obvious, horny spring in your step, and as you pass by a table, Bucky fishes a beer with his free hand without stopping.

"I'll call the cab back here and we can-"

"No."

"What?" You stop in your tracks and Bucky lets go of you, continuing to walk to where his motorcycle is parked. He beckons you over with a crooked finger as he mounts the bike, and you fold your arms over your chest, cocking an eyebrow.

"What? It's not like he'll be able to drive tonight anyway." He foots the kick stand, placing his beer in the back compartment then bringing his hands up to twist around the handlebars. "Come on, let's go watch the sunset."

"The-the sunset?" You ask incredulously.

"What? You said it was pretty, let's go get a closer look." Your eye twitches at his feigned ignorance.

"Bucky I swear to god if you don't take me right now-"

He grins. "Then I just won't take you at all." He revs the engine once to accentuate his threat and you groan. "Come on or I'll leave you."

"Fine."

You march over to him and swing your leg over the bike, nestling yourself into his back and situating your hands on top of his shoulders. The engine roars to life, the heads of onlookers catching your eye and in one swift motion he kicks it into gear and you're off.

The winds whips your hair and licks at your face, causing you to constantly tear it away from your eyes. Once free, you take in the view before you, ever amazed at how the sun sets on the water; the sky glows with an orange and pink hue, making it look like a painting. And for a moment you forget about your throbbing lower half until you shift to get a little more comfortable on the seat and oh. Oh.

Your hands impulsively tighten around his shoulders and your jaw goes slack, gasping as the vibration from the motorcycle hits just the right spot. You let out a light moan and no sooner clap a hand over your mouth, hoping Bucky hasn't heard you. Your head slumps forward on his back.

"You good back there?" He yells over his shoulder.

"Y-yeah! Uh-all good!" you wheeze, attempting not to sound too out of sorts. The street is bare as he stops at a red light, and you try to breathe so as not to let the pleasure overtake you. It's not that you don't want to let go, it's just that you know you'll never hear the end of it from him of you do.

When the light turns green, he revs the engine so many times you lose count. Your mind is swirling in ecstacy and you start to pant faster, clinging onto Bucky for dear life as you near your release.

You screw your eyes shut, the coil finally snapping while you bite down harshly on the shoulder of his leather jacket. By this point you're unabashedly gasping and moaning, your hips bucking wildly into the seat as your clit is overstimulated to the point it hurts.

You pray for the ride to your apartment to end while he speeds up, causing you to sob into the waves of pleasure the vibrations are granting you. You claw mindlessly at his torso until he finally slows to a stop, and you catch your breath to come to your senses. You can't help the nagging, coherent thought that the ride home had taken a lot longer than usual and you realize the sky is now completely black and littered with stars.

He knew. That fucker knew.

Bucky dismounts the vehicle and stands before you with a hand on his hip and a smug demeanor. You lean forward on your hands, still heaving to try and even out your breath.

"Enjoy the ride?" Bucky taunts, flat lining his lips.

"Fuck-" pant  "-you," you nearly spit. He chuckles darkly. "You were edging me, with a goddamn motorcycle."

He scratches the back of his head. "I might have added a little extra something just for you."

You raise your head. "Why don't we go upstairs and you let me get my revenge?"

He huffs. "What's the point? You already came all over my seat."

"It wasn't your cock," you retort, untangling your wobbly legs from the bike. Bucky reaches out to steady you, pulling you to him by your waist.

"Fair point, pretty girl."

[buckyownsmylife]

Young and Beautiful - Steve Rogers smut

The one where you were supposed to be a one-night stand, but Steve won't let that happen

Warnings: smut, and a little bit of angst.

A/N: this was our first ever patreon-voted fic, chosen for the month of May! My patreons at the $3 tier get to send me their ideas once a month and two of them end up being voted so I can write one of them each month. June’s fic is the one where Ransom needs to get a sugar mommy, and if you want to suggest a story for our July’s fic, please consider becoming a patreon! Thank you to my darling @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for reading this over for me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The first time wasn’t a mistake, I could admit to that. Steve had been coming to the same bar where I worked for almost a year now. I knew who he was, of course. Everyone knew - he was hard to miss. But I think what he liked about our run-down place is that no one seemed to care about Captain America and the things he did when he didn’t have a bottle of beer in his hand.

Over here, he was just Steve. And Steve tipped well and drank a lot - I was sure he couldn’t get drunk, no matter how many beers I served him, but he never stopped asking me for more.

So, needless to say, he was adored. Adored by my boss, who was always around to keep watch of his customers and keep them in line. Adored by Luke, who guarded the entrance, for all the nights Steve helped him get rid of men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. And adored by all the waitresses, for precisely the same reason - and because I always shared my tips with all of them.

Even the kitchen staff adored Steve. Besides, it’s not like he was hard on the eye - all the girls (customers and staff) were constantly fawning over him, but he was nothing short of a gentleman, always.

Actually, he seemed to avoid the members of the opposite sex as best as he could, clearly not interested in whatever it was that they planned to possibly get to do with him. Well, except for me.

He never avoided me. I always figured it was because I was the guardian of the alcohol - we’d even joke about it sometimes, when he came to sit by the bar after politely declining someone’s advances.

“It’s just hard to understand how to date nowadays,” he commented one day after a pretty girl actually asked him out on a date right in front of me, but he refused. I shrugged as I wiped the counter, thinking if there was any advice I could give him.

“It really isn’t that hard. You go out to dinner, walk her home and when you step in front of her door, you ask her for some coffee. She’ll usually do it herself, but if you want to show your interest…” His frown was amusing, to say the least, but I held back my laughter so he wouldn’t be even more uncomfortable.

“A coffee?” Giggling, I nodded. “Before bed? But…”

“It’s a metaphor, Steve. A lady can’t very well invite you into her sheets, now can she?” He blushed three different shades of red when I winked, another giggle escaping. “I mean, she can, but we like to keep some things unsaid - innuendos can be very sexy.”

Two months had passed and if Steve made use of my lessons, I wouldn’t know. He never brought anyone to the bar and never left with any lady who approached him either.

“What can I get ya, Steve?” I’d always ask. I’d never once called him Cap or anything other than the name he used to introduce himself - even though I obviously knew who he was. He always took his time before answering my questions, even if they required a simple yes or no, which amused me to no end.

For a while, I actually believed a gun or one of the buildings the Hulk had undoubtedly thrown in his direction had left him with a difficulty of hearing. But then after my first question, he never seemed to have any problem understanding me at all.

“Just a beer,” he’d say, a small, soft smile as he tried not to stare too much at me, fingers tapping on the counter while I got his order. I appreciated his effort not to make me uncomfortable - I knew he’d seen how often men did that to me. I had no doubt that was why he only ever looked me in the eye from under those huge eyelashes of his.

“There you go.” Always the same routine, we never once deviated from it. Until one night when I was supposed to close the bar and he heard my boss instructing me to be careful.

“There’s been a lot of robberies this late at night. Make sure you lock everything up properly.” I saluted in jest, making the old man laugh and shake his head at me. “See you tomorrow, kid.”

There were only a handful of customers - Steve included, and he was the only one by the bar, so I threw him a quick smile as I wiped the glasses and started to clean the counter.

“Can I get you anything else?” I offered, but he only grimaced in response, leaving me confused. “Is there something wrong?” He stared directly at me without answering for a while before he was able to snap out of whatever it was that had frozen him.

“You’re supposed to leave by yourself at two in the morning?” I chuckled lightly at his concern, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn’t see how it warmed my heart that he’d be preoccupied over me, someone that was a little more than a stranger to him.

“It’s part of the job,” I reassured him. “Well, usually it’s part of Luke’s job. But whenever he has to leave early, it’s my duty to fill in for him.” He nodded, but didn’t make any movement towards leaving. Usually, he would be gone by now, but it wasn’t that extraordinary for him to stay until the hour I left.

This was the first time he stayed this long though, considering I wasn’t the one responsible for closing the bar and I only realized it when I looked around and noticed we were the last two people left in the room.

“Planning on drinking much more?” I joked, trying to gauge if he was going to be much longer, but he seemed startled by my question, looking around to verify the same thing I’d just noticed.

“Oh, no. Not at all.” I smiled, thankful that he was conscious and wouldn’t force me to stay even longer after my shift had finished. “I just figured I could walk you home. It is pretty late, after all.”

My heart warmed up at how sweet and thoughtful this man was. He had no reason to wait for me to finish my job just to walk me home, yet here he was. “Thank you, Steve,” I acknowledged, sending him a grateful grin. “Let me just check the bathrooms real quick. I’ll grab my purse and we can leave.”

He nodded, watching me do as I said and in no time at all we took off together in the direction of my apartment. I wasn’t worried about making small talk with him on the way there - I knew he was a good conversationalist from all the times he had stayed by the bar instead of taking his beer to a table, and I adored the stories he told of his missions just as much as I appreciated how he genuinely cared about what I had to say.

The walk to my place seemed shorter than ever before, and in a few minutes we were standing in front of my door as I searched for my keys in my bag.

“C-Can I…” He murmured as I looked for it, glancing up at him and smiling to signal he should continue even though I couldn’t give him my full attention at that moment. “Would you… Do you have some coffee?”

I was so shocked that my head whipped up to stare at him, eyes wide and unbelieving. Did Steve… Did he… Did he want to have sex with me? “I mean… in your apartment, do you have some coffee in your apartment?”

The thought was so extraordinary that the second I realized his intentions, a fire of desire warmed my lower belly, not because he was Captain America, but because he was an attractive and sweet guy that was way out of my league and I couldn’t believe he was into me.

He kept talking as I kept blinking at him, trying to process what was going on. “’Cause I’d really like to have some coffee… with you… If you want some too…”

His voice got smaller the longer it took for me to answer him, until it disappeared completely and he cleared his throat. “Nevermind.” He was about to turn around and make a run for it, I was sure, but I was able to grasp his wrist just in time, signalling him to stop because I had something to say.

“I would love to make you some coffee, Steve.”

So yeah, the first time wasn’t a mistake. He was way too fucking sweet and I got hot just by seeing how nervous he was to ask me for some “coffee”, incredulous that I was capable of affecting this giant man that much.

So as soon as we were in my apartment, I tied up my hair with the little hair tie I always kept on my wrist during work and got on my knees for him.

And I cherished every fucking second of it.

The way his mouth fell open in a gasp when I reached for his jeans, the little moans he let out as I licked his member… I couldn’t close my eyes, too transfixed by his expressions to miss anything.

The way he pulled me by my hair to devour my mouth, hands so eager to undress me that he ended up ripping my blouse, but it only made me giggle.

The way his groan sounded almost painful when he picked me up, shoved me against the door and penetrated me, filling me so beautifully I hit my head back against the wood and didn’t even notice it.

He got me to cum without almost no preparation, just from the thrill of it all, the stretch of his member inside of me. When I urged him to cum in my pussy, the look on his eyes was enough to get me to cum again, milking him dry as he emptied himself with a growl, forehead dropping against mine while he tried to catch his breath.

I was expecting him to leave immediately or maybe stay for an actual coffee. I wasn’t expecting him to pull out, drop to his knees and start lapping his cum from inside of me, eyes as focused on mine as I had been for him only minutes before.

Burying my fingers in his short locks, I tried to keep myself up despite the way my legs trembled, but Steve just adjusted them so they’d be over his shoulders and held me up with his face buried in me.

I had never cum so many times in a row. But then again, I had never had a man eat his own cum out of me.

I fully intended it to be a one time thing, and that was my plan. I thanked him for eating me out, made him some coffee, giggled at his stories about his friends and for a second it almost looked like we were back at the bar, only the counter was my kitchen table and I was allowed to sit on the other side.

He didn’t ask to stay the evening and I breathed a sigh of relief after I closed the door behind him, ignoring the slight empty feeling that momentarily hit me. This is what I wanted, I reminded myself, and by acting the way I expected him to, he had made it clear that he understood the rules of the dating world he claimed to know so little of.

This was a one time deal. Nothing more.

But then the first night we saw each other at the bar again, it was when he burst through the door to punch some guy who came in just as I was closing, trying to steal the money we had in the vault. I was so fucking relieved to see his face that all I could do was tremble in his arms after the police came to get the robber, and of course I couldn’t let him go after that.

He walked me home and I didn’t even ask anything, just stood on my tiptoes to kiss his lips, using my grip on his shirt to pull him in as he helped me with my clothes.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” He moaned, and perhaps that should have been my first sign, the one that alerted me to stop what I was doing and not make this into a mistake I couldn’t take back.

He hadn’t talked the last time. He had never complimented me before.

“God, your ass…” He groaned as he palmed it, helping me over his lap when he took a seat on my couch, until I could fuse the both of us and ride us to hysteria.

But I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind because it felt so fucking good to be desired by him, to have him inside of me, cumming deep into my pussy only to eat it all out of me again.

It didn’t take long for me to learn about the errors of my way, though. In fact, it started the very next day, when he walked into the bar grinning from ear to ear and made a beeline in my direction.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and my eyes went wide as two saucers, especially when I saw him lean over the counter like he intended to peck my lips.

“Hello, Captain.” I quickly turned my back to him, facing the shelves of liquor to pretend that I was looking for something. My heart sank to my stomach as I took in what was happening, what I had just done in my effort to put some distance between us as if last night had never happened. “Can I get you anything?”

The time it took for him to answer almost had me looking at him from over my shoulder, but I restrained myself. “Yeah, you,” he finally said, and I breathed out in surprise. “Why are you acting this way?”

I panicked for a few seconds, reaching up for an already clean glass to attack it with my rag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried to reassure the both of us, still incapable of looking him in the eye.

But I could see his massive body by the end of the counter from the corner of my eyes, where he always sat, and I saw him tap the old battered wood with his fingers - fingers he had used to spread me open for his tongue to reach - as he thought.

I hoped he would let it go. I hoped he would not.

“Fine,” he relented, and I froze, uncertain of what he meant. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” My head snapped up just in time to watch him leave, and he didn’t even look over his shoulder.

I tried to tell myself it was for the best. He needed some time to get over whatever the hell it was that he thought he was feeling and tomorrow things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.

He came back with flowers the next day, and I didn’t have any reasonable excuse not to accept it. He didn’t push for anything, just gave me the bouquet before asking for his usual drink. And then he proceeded to stay the entire evening right there, where he always sat, carefully watching my every move.

For the first time in a while, I broke two glasses in a single evening.

The day after that, he came with a box of chocolates. I couldn’t hide the smile because they were my favorite - I didn’t know how he knew it until he reminded me.

“You told me you liked them right when I started coming to this place.” His eyes were so heavy with a sad feeling that I couldn’t recognize that I had to avert my gaze. It messed with my heartbeat, it left my throat feeling dry.

“Thanks, Captain,” I softly acknowledged it, and I saw the way his grip on the box tightened. I saw it in the way it was slightly crumpled when I took it from his hands, but he didn’t say a word.

There was only so much that he could take, though. And I knew that. It didn’t help that my boss had caught onto his intentions and started to push me to go out on a date with him.

“Why don’t you give the poor guy a chance?” He’d incite, much to Steve’s utter glee.

“Yeah, Y/N. Why don’t you go out with me?” Steve urged, and although he never asked when my boss wasn’t around to initiate the teasing, I knew he wondered.

And the truth was that I wondered about it too. Because everything was screwed up now. When I gave him his beer and our fingers brushed, mine were left tingling. When I looked his way to find his gaze already on me, I shivered.

So yes, the second time was undeniably a mistake, but there wouldn’t be a third time. I’d make sure of it.

Steve’s P.O.V.

I was tired of waiting. I knew I had wanted her since the first time I laid my eyes on her, when I decided to stop at this rundown bar in the hopes of one night of crappy beer without being bothered by anyone asking for autographs or pictures.

I’d come here almost every night when I could escape the tower to watch her work, slowly getting her to warm up to me, and I fell for her personality in the process.

The way she clearly saw me as Steve, and not my title.

The way she always laughed at my stories and shared what had happened in the previous nights with the raucous customers.

The way she seemed to care about everyone and everything that came into contact with her.

So what started as desire became something deeper and for the first time since I was unfrozen, I found myself eager to understand what dating in this new century was like. I asked Sam for advice, and even Tony for any tips he could give me, but their general ideas didn’t matter to me when all I wanted was one single person.

Her.

So I asked her for her thoughts on the matter and was surprised with myself when I put them into practice. I was even more surprised when she accepted my advances and welcomed me into her embrace.

I was sure I’d never been happier than that evening.

But to have her pretend nothing had happened and even worse - treat me like a stranger after I had learned the taste of her skin? Nothing hurt deeper than that.

And still, I understood. I realized then that she hadn’t seen the situation the way that I had. She had thought all I wanted was a one-night deal - well, two-night deal - because I had never shown her anything to make her think differently.

So I set out to do just that. My way this time. And I was just about ready to ask her on a proper date when I was forced away for a whole damn month, having to resort to my hand and my memories of her body to get through the cold nights on the field.

The second I was back in the city, I only had one thing in mind. To get what I wanted, in whatever way she would let me.

“Can we talk?” My voice sounded clipped to my own ears, and maybe that’s why her mouth opened in surprise - or maybe it was seeing me at the bar so early, when there was barely anyone around, after being absent for so long.

“Sure,” she finally accepted, shrugging like it was no big deal, but I knew better than that. She might not know it, but I could read her perfectly, and I knew she was hiding her true feelings even to herself. I knew those feelings were deeper than she had ever felt. I knew they made her scared.

“Not here.” She stopped cleaning glasses then, frozen for a second before she looked around, taking in the fact that no one else was going to need her for a while. There was nowhere to run and maybe I was a jerk for doing this during her work hours, but I was a desperate jerk and I couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Okay.” She sounded small, and I knew what she was expecting to get out of this conversation. Closure, in one way or another. For me to finally let go of her. But I wouldn’t.

I wanted her too damn bad to let her escape like that.

“Go out with me.” I asked the second that the office door was closed behind us, and she immediately started shaking her head. “Yes, please,” I insisted. “Let me show you that I want more from you. I want so much more.”

“I can’t give you more,” was her answer, and she still avoided my eyes as she spoke. “One night, you even had two. That’s all I can give you. Please don’t ask me for anything more.”

“Why?” I asked, and the frustration in my voice was enough to get her to meet my eyes for the first time that evening. “Why are you trying to avoid this? I know you want me, Y/N. You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t. So just tell me why.”

“I can’t,” she insisted, moving towards the door, but I grasped her hand to stop her before she could slip through it - much like she had done that first night, when I thought I’d screwed up any chance I had to ever be with her.

“Tell me why you’re holding yourself back from me,” I ordered, anger and desire creating an explosive cocktail inside of me, making my voice hoarse. I saw her shiver. I watched her break.

“Because it was too fucking good and I swear to God, if you get your mouth on me again, I’m gonna marry you.” Our expressions mirrored one another, eyes wide, mouths hanging open. She couldn’t believe she had let out her feelings like this. I couldn’t believe there was all there was to it.

I dropped to my knees before her.

“Come here.” I shoved her jeans all the way down to her ankles, sending the button flying somewhere. I couldn’t tell where and I didn’t care. All I wanted was to show her that there was nothing wrong with wanting this, with wanting me because as long as she allowed me to, I’d give anything to be with her.

My tongue was so hungry to taste her sweetness again. I licked a stripe between her lower lips before I could even get my hand there, spreading her with my fingers for easier access.

God, she was heavenly. I watched her let her head fall back against the door, much like the first time I was able to be in this position, and my heartbeat fluttered at the realization that this time, I was much closer to getting what I really wanted from her.

“I’ve been terrified of my own feelings for long enough,” I decided to confess, parting from her clit to be able to speak but slipping two digits inside her hole, filling her up, preparing her to welcome me. “I can wait for you to come to terms with yours. But I can’t keep myself away,” I warned, quickening my movements as I chased away the taste of her in my tongue. “So don’t ask that of me.”

Her moan had my eyes sparkling with excitement. I lowered my head to suck her button, see the way it made her thighs tremble on each side of my face.

“So fucking sexy,” I moaned against her cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart. Drench my face.” Her little cry of ecstasy denounced she was about to do just that, so I twirled my tongue around her clit, rubbing my digits against her sweet spot as her body tensed under my ministrations.

“There you go…” I whispered, fascinated with the way she looked after her release. It was like she glowed from the inside, muscles relaxing to accept my caresses when I finished cleaning her with my tongue and rose to my full height.

“Next time you try to pretend something between us didn’t happen, I’m gonna bend you over the counter and spank your ass in front of all of the other patrons,” I warned her before nibbling her earlobe. “Go out with me,” I tried again, and she took a deep breath before answering, looking up at me from under her eyelashes.

“Okay.”