#i’m not sure my writing is skilled enough for it

[heartfeltcherie]

so like… what if i said i wanna write for lucifer and alastor from hazbin hotel…?

[lady-grace-pens]

Is it a bad omen that I don’t know what genre I write?

FOAD is a dark romance I can see that much. ETNB is a fantasy. Htkag began as fantasy but turned into more lit fic than anything else. I hesitate calling my work even that because my work isn’t pretentious. I don’t know, it just seems like there should be more genre overlap than this right? The only connections I can spot between them are how all plots have a dramatic tone and are focused on character relationships and otherwise internal plots. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but is this a bad sign? Maybe I’m too young and I just haven’t written enough yet, I don’t know

[amethystcove]

incoherent ramblings ahead !

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do.��

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[seventh-district]

hhhhhhh it is 9pm i just woke up and for the life of me i can’t remember if my dentist appointment is tomorrow or the next day so now i have to get ready tonight Just In Case

[derinwrites]

The Three Commandments

The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.

Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And

The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.

1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say

What’s your book about?

I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?

The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).

Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)

Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?

2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment

Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.

Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.

Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.

The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.

But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.

If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.

3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting

This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.

“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?

Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?

If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.

Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?

Hopefully these can help you, too.

[reyalvr]

RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

[bunny-lily]

Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading

[jeonsweetpea]

Will It Fit? (Teaser) - NOW OUT

Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers

rating: explicit

description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

word count: tbd (currently at 5k)

warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, more to come I’m sure.

a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! 

*update: I have posted the full fic! Check my pinned. :)

“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 

The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 

“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.

“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.

“Unlock this door.”

You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 

“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.

“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”

Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 

“Sorry…” 

God, you sounded absolutely pathetic. 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 

Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 

[daddy-dotcom]

Bang My Line

Summary: You're Penelope Garcia's first intern, and you learn a lot more from her than just her technical skills.

Rating: M

Words:4, 357

Warnings: Fluff, typical canon violence mentions, smut ;)

*reblogs or comments r much appreciated*

Read my newest fic Scents and Sensibility out now 🤭

_____________________________________________

The first day was a blur. It was scary enough to completely change career paths, but working for the FBI was an entirely different beast. Between what seemed like hundreds of background checks and interviews, I finally made it to my first day. Granted, I would just be an intern for now, but hopefully this would lead to a permanent position as a technical analyst. I waited in the lobby for Penelope Garcia, the woman who would be my mentor for the duration of my time with the BAU. We had spoken over the phone and even texted back and forth a bit, but this would be my first time meeting in person.

“There she is! My shiny new intern.”

“Hi you must be Agent Garcia,” I replied with my arm outstretched. She took it and gave what was the most enthusiastic hand shake I’ve ever seen.

“Oh honey, I’m way too fun for you to call me agent. Call me Penelope.” I shook my head in agreement and she led me towards the elevator.

“I know I gave you a rundown of the team via our text messages, but be prepared for them to ask you a million questions. You’re my first ever intern and they’re dying to meet the newest member of the team.”

“Duly noted, just know I’m going to be doing the same to you Penn because I’m a little out of my element here.”

“hmm Penn, I like the sound of that.”

As the elevator doors opened, I could see the rest of the team gathered around a desk, too focused on their own conversation to notice me and Penelope.

“Everyone, please welcome my first and only intern (Y/N).”

The man in the crisp black suit stood up first to greet me and introduced himself as Agent Aaron Hotchner.

“Penelope has not shut up about her new intern so it’s nice to finally put a pretty face to the name. I’m SSA Derek Morgan.”

I let out a bashful chuckle as I shook Morgan’s hand. Penelope did warn me that he could be a bit of a flirt. I was then greeted by a blonde woman who goes by JJ and an older man named Agent Rossi.

“Don’t tell me you write in pink sparkly gel pen too?” he jokingly asked.

I smiled and shook my head no, before being greeted by Agent Emily Prentiss.

“Don’t mind Rossi, it’s always nice to have another woman on the team to keep these boys in check.”

She gestured towards Morgan and the other agent beside her, who I can only assume is none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.

Penelope had described him as quote “Steven Hawking trapped in a young Bill Nye’s body.” What I didn’t expect was for him to actually be attractive. Sure, Agent Morgan and even Agent Hotchner were easy on the eyes, but Spencer Reid was strikingly handsome in the most unassuming way. The soft golden waves that covered the top of his head combined with those puppy dog eyes were enough to remind me how nervous I was to be joining the team.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N)” he said as he took my hand. My palms were beginning to sweat, but the steadiness of his firm grasp eased my nerves.

“Likewise,” was all I could manage to say. He held my gaze for what felt like both a moment and an eternity, before releasing my hand.

“Well, (Y/N), let’s get you briefed on your first case,” said Penelope.

I followed Penelope into the briefing room and decided to sit in the seat closest to the screen so that I could take notes on her presentation. To my surprise, Spencer took the seat next to me. As if I wasn't already a nervous wreck, his close proximity to me was going to make my writing even more illegible than usual. Still, I could get used to sitting next to the most handsome member of the team.

As Penelope wrapped up her presentation and the rest of the team departed on the jet, the bubbly blonde gave me a little tour of her office. Rossi wasn't joking about Penelope's love of glitter gel pens, and her desk was adorned with unicorn paperweights and mermaid statues.

"This is your workspace over here, (Y/N), although you'll mostly be assisting me for the first couple of weeks. Feel free to decorate your desk with as many unicorns as you please," she said.

The first hour or so of work was mostly getting situated in my new workspace, but we soon got our first call from the team, and it was from the man himself, Derek Morgan. Penelope pressed the button to answer the phone and his voice immediately came through the speaker for both of us to hear.

"It's your babygirl and her babygirl in training, what do ya need hot stuff?" said Penelope.

"Hey mama, I need you to look into Walter Price's bank activity for the last few months, see if there were any suspicious withdrawals or transfers."

"Anything for you gorgeous"

"Thanks babygirl, I'll be expecting your call back soon."

I sat with my mouth slightly ajar, looking over at Penelope dumbfounded.

"Do you talk to everyone on the phone that way?" you asked.

"Nope, just my sweet lover Derek Morgan."

I paused for a second before asking my follow up question, "so are you two like...in a relationship?"

"Only in my dreams," Penelope said with a wink. I let out a laugh because this whole situation surprisingly made me more at ease in my new job.

"As your intern, I guess it's my job to learn how to answer the phone like you?" I said with a wicked smile.

"Oh no my dear, at least, not yet. We've got a long way to go before you get to my level. And of course you'll have to find your own gorgeous man to talk dirty to, Morgan is already taken."

That definitely wouldn't be a problem, I already had the most gorgeous man on the team in mind.

I spent the next few weeks listening in on Penelope's phone calls and looking up information for her. I even got to help her present a new case to the team. After my first week, the team took me out to celebrate surviving my first case with the BAU. Even though I had become more comfortable around everyone on the team, I couldn't shake the butterflies Reid gave me whenever we interacted. However, I did notice that I was much more confident over the phone than in person. I tried to conceal my blossoming crush on Spencer as best I could, but I couldn't help but be the slightest bit sweeter to him whenever he was the one who called us.

During my second month of internship, we had a particularly hard time tracking down an unsub. Penelope was getting way too many names and she called Spencer to help her narrow down the list.

"There were traces of chlorine and calcium hypochlorite on the body which are chemicals commonly used in pool maintenance, Garcia narrow it down to men over 40 in the area who own pools or work in pool maintenance," he said.

"One name! It's Michael Dunlop, he works as a freelance pool maintenance man and, ooh get this, he hasn't responded to any jobs since the first murder on June 11th."

"Sending the address to your phones right now!" I interjected.

"Thanks (Y/N),"

"Anything for you, cutie" I said, with a sudden burst of confidence.

As I hung up with a satisfied look on my face, Penelope glanced over at me looking smug as ever.

"Cutie huh? That's a new one," Penelope said, "I knew I'd rub off on you sooner or later." And she was right. I started incorporating more color into my work wardrobe and I even brought my tiny stuffed cow to sit at my desk.

"You said I had to find my own gorgeous man to flirt with on the phone...so I did."

"I knew it! You have a crush on our genius boy-wonder!" She was positively giddy just by the thought of it. "I mean he's always sitting next to you and looking over at you when he thinks no one is noticing. You would think in a room full of profilers that I wouldn't be the only one to notice, and yet here we are."

It never occurred to me that my little crush might actually be reciprocated. Spencer was always a bit socially awkward, so I just assumed that he was the same way with me. I never once thought that he was actually as nervous to talk to me as I was to him. This fact somehow boosted my confidence even more, and I decided to have some fun with Spencer over the phone.

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

"Cutie huh?" Morgan asked the blushing boy. Spencer was used to Penelope teasing him, but this was different. He had been harboring a small crush on their newest intern for the past month, and when she flirted with him over speakerphone for Morgan, of all people, to hear, Spencer couldn't help but turn as red as a tomato.

Of course, being a profiler, Morgan took notice of Reid's crimson cheeks. "Call me crazy but I think she likes you, pretty boy."

"O-of course not, she's just copying the way Garcia talks to you," Spencer stuttered.

"That may be true, the only difference is that you have a little crush yourself."

Spencer didn't bother trying to lie since he knew Morgan would see right through him, so he just mumbled something about Prentiss and Hotch needing them at the location (Y/N) sent.

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

It was a lot easier to flirt with Spencer when he wasn't physically in front of me. When we were in the office together, we'd shoot each other smiles from across the room or he'd bring me an extra coffee in the morning. But when he was out in the field and I was back at my desk at the BAU, it was a whole different game. I tried my hardest to make him blush over the phone any chance I got, and it seemed to be working. After Penelope found out about my little crush, she decided to play matchmaker and slip Spencer my work phone number to call me instead for information. For the first time, I heard my phone ring instead of Penelope's and I immediately answered.

“Give it to me good baby, what do you need from me?” I replied. I knew it was Spencer since he was the only one who had my number.

"Hey (Y/N)" he said, and I swear I could hear him smiling through the phone. I could tell he had become more comfortable with our one-sided phone flirting over the past month. "I need you to look up all of Dr. Gupta's patients at the psychiatric clinic for the past 3 months, see if any of them drive a black van."

"You got it, gorgeous. If you need anything you know you can always bang my line."

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

“You have (Y/N)’s number?” JJ asked.

Spencer looked puzzled, “Yea.. don’t we all?”

“I think it’s just you pretty boy” Morgan quipped, as he chuckled and gave him a pat on the back.

Spencer had grown fond of (Y/N)'s phone flirtation, but he was too embarrassed to return the favor in front of his colleagues. He loved watching her walk around the office in her high heels, trying to keep up with Penelope's fast pace. He knew brief glances and morning coffees weren't going to cut it anymore, he had to do something before her internship was over. So he decided to call her on his way home from working the case.

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

The team had just finished a case and were on the plane headed back to Quantico. Penelope had plans so she left me to wrap things up in the office. Just as I was making my way towards the door, my phone began to ring. Confused, I picked up the phone and listened to see if it was a misdial.

"Hey babygirl."

I nearly choked when I realized who was speaking. My body involuntarily shivered and my heart quickened its pace. This "babygirl" hadn't come from Morgan, it was Spencer on the other line.

"Hi Spencer! What's up I thought you guys wrapped up the case?" I asked in a confused tone.

"We did, but I thought I'd call you without everyone else around." His voice sounded sultry and silky smooth, unlike his usual rapid rambling, and it made it so much harder for me to speak. "We should be landing in about twenty minutes, stay in your office and I'll meet you there."

"Okay, I'll be waiting here, handsome."

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

Those twenty minutes were the longest twenty minutes of my life. I knew Spencer had a crush on me as well, but what could he possibly want to meet with me for? Was he going to ask me to stop flirting with him on the phone? Was he going to ask me out? Was he trying to make out with me? God I secretly hoped it was the latter...

Just as I had been getting lost in my own thoughts, I heard the familiar voices of the rest of the team down the hall. I knew Spencer would be walking into my office any minute, so I nervously fixed my hair and applied the lipgloss Penelope gave me.

"Hey babygirl," said the tall man standing in the door frame.

"Hi Spencie," I said with a smile as I called him the nickname I lovingly gave him, which I'm sure he secretly hates. I couldn’t help but grin since the word “baby girl” still seemed so foreign coming from his mouth. I stood up to meet his gaze as he slowly made his way over to my desk.

"I know you've been teasing me these past couple weeks," he said as we closed the gap between our bodies. I would say our faces were inches from each other, but he was impossibly tall and my face didn't reach past his chest, "but now its my turn to tease you," he said as he brought his hands behind my ears and pressed his lips onto mine. He was gentle and tentative at first, but I passionately pressed my lips back against his to deepen the kiss. I ran my hands through his gorgeous locks and began to tug. We quickly became a breathless mess and I couldn't help the feeling building in the pit of my stomach. His hands traveled down to my waist and he gingerly pulled me closer. He was both hesitant and passionate, not quite sure if he should act on his instincts. He pulled back for just a second to speak:

"I know you only have a few weeks left with us, but would you like to get coffee sometime?" he asked with those same puppy dog eyes that made me fall for him in the first place.

"Oh Spencie, we're a bit past coffee don't you think?" I said with blushy cheeks. "Let's get dinner sometime, I'm free any night except Tuesday, I have Zumba class with Penelope."

"She really has influenced you a lot hasn't she?" he said, making a mental note of the pink scrunchie in my hair.

"In more ways than one hot stuff."

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

Over the next few weeks, I spent my days phone flirting with Spencer at work and my nights making out with him in my office or eating Chinese take-out in his apartment. No one on the team, not even Penelope, knew about our brewing workplace romance, and we intended to keep it that way until I was hired permanently. However, that didn't stop him from flirting back on our calls. I was on my last week of internship and I was now the only one who Spencer called when he needed information. Spencer and I had agreed to take it slow, but our most recent calls had me desperate to find out what else he was packing besides the gun strapped to his hip. Just then, a call interrupted my wandering thoughts and I immediately picked up knowing it was him.

“Dayton Ohio you're on the air" I answered in my sexiest voice possible.

"I'd like to make a request," Spencer replied.

"You can request anything you want, doctor" I could hear him chuckle behind the phone before telling me what he actually needed.

"I need you to look up a marketing firm by the name of Firsthand Media and see if they have any connections to the colleges of the first set of victims."

"I'm on it, sugar" I answered.

"Oh and one more favor, look up the words beautiful and brilliant and see what you can find."

"Look at that, it's me"

"You're the best (Y/N)"

I could feel Penelope's eyes on me before she turned around and said

"I've never been more proud."

The rest of the day was filled with calls from the other agents to Penelope, mostly Morgan, until that evening when I got one last call from Spencer. He asked me to see if there were any men who had been admitted to the hospital in the last 6 months for brain injuries, but no one came up.

"Couldn't find anything, looks like you're going to have to punish me Spencie," I replied.

"You'll just have to wait til I get back for that"

He hung up, and I couldn't believe what I just heard. Penelope and I were in shock that Spencer Reid could be so dirty. For once, I was the one blushing on the other end.

"(Y/N) I swear to god if you don't let that man make sweet love to you I am personally writing your letter of resignation"

"Penn! We just flirt is all, like you and Morgan, I could never actually be with him"

"So you two haven't been using my sacred office space to make-out between cases?" she asked with raised eyebrows. I stood there, with my mouth open and eyes wide, looking guilty as ever.

"You do know there's a camera in this office right?" I was mortified. Thank God we'd never done anything more than kiss in this office.

"You knew this whole time? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh Morgan knows, but everybody else is still in the dark because I didn't want to risk you not getting hired. And I hacked into the security computers and deleted the footage."

"Thank you so much Penn, and I promise I won't have anymore heated makeout sessions in this office, or anywhere in this building for that matter."

"Anything for my little protege. But in all seriousness, you should definitely ride boy-wonder off into the sunset and make it official once you're hired."

"Penelope!" I hit her in the arm, only half jokingly because I knew deep down that that's exactly what I should do.

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

As usual, I waited in my office for Spencer to meet me. But this time, I was determined to go back to his apartment and finish what we started over the phone.

"Hello beautiful" he said as he made his way over to me. He greeted me with a hungry kiss and it took every ounce of strength I had not to pin him down and ride him in this office.

"Spencer listen, we can't makeout in this office anymore. Garcia and Morgan know about us already and she had to delete the footage off of the security cameras."

"Morgan knows? That present he gave me actually makes a lot of sense now."

"Nevermind that," I said before moving closer to whisper in his ear, "what I need now is for you to punish me like you said you would."

I could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his eyes went wide but faintest hint of a smile appeared on his deliciously soft lips.

"well then what are we waiting for" he said as he grabbed my hand and practically pulled me out of the office.

We wasted no time getting back to his apartment. Reid was always such a cautious driver, but this time he was driving like his life depended on it. Once in the building, he wouldn't let go of my hand and we were practically sprinting towards his door. He fumbled with the key for a moment before the door sprang open and I pushed him inside with the force of my lips on his. His hands had become quite comfortable exploring my body, and tonight was no exception. I tugged on his tie without breaking the kiss and he let out a heavy sigh as I led him towards his bedroom. I pushed him once again, this time down onto the bed, and I practically jumped on top of him to straddle his waist. As I let my weight rest on the growing bulge in his pants, he let out the sexiest groan and I could feel the wetness pooling in my panties. I continued to grind on him as we completely devoured each other. This wasn't the first time we'd done this, but this time it was different, we both wanted more.

"Spence please," I whined, "I need you."

"You can have me baby," he replied, looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes that I adore so much.

We quickly undressed and I raced to climb back on top of him.

"You really are beautiful," he said while tucking a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. I smiled back at him and gently kissed his lips before going back to grinding over his now bare cock.

His groans were like music to my ears and I couldn't help but sighing at the feeling of him gliding across my exposed cunt.

"Baby please, I want to be inside you," he pleaded.

"Do you have a, uh, condom?" I asked, somewhat sheepishly.

"I do...that was actually the 'gift' that Morgan got me," he said followed by a nervous chuckle. He reached into the drawer on the bedside table and, slightly trembling, opened the package.

"I-I just want you to know that I haven't done this in a while, (Y/N)," he began, "I don't know if I'll be any good." He was just as nervous as I was. I gave him a sympathetic nod before replying.

"It's okay Spence, it's been a while for me too. I guess you could say we get pretty caught up in our work."

"Agreed," he said, slightly more at ease.

As soon as he finished up rolling on the condom, I wasted no time lining him up with my entrance and sinking onto his length.

"Fuck, baby" he moaned with his eyes screwed shut "you feel so good." It was insanely hot to hear such foul language come out of Spencer Reid's mouth.

"You want me to ride you baby?" I asked teasingly.

"Yes please..."

I began to bounce rapidly on his dick, feeling every inch of him come in and out of me. I had a feeling he wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care, I was beyond happy to just watch the pleasure that I was bringing him. I took his hands and placed them on my breasts, which caused a simultaneous moan to come from the both of us.

"God (Y/N) you're going to make me cum" he said, nearly out of breath.

I knew he was close, but I was slowing down as my legs began to give out on me. He sensed the slowing of my pace, so he took one hand from my breast, wrapped it around my waist, and began to pump into me from below.

“Consider this your punishment babygirl”

This new angle was heaven to me and I couldn't help but cry out. He was fucking me so hard I swear I could see stars.

"Oh god Spence," I moaned. For someone who has been out of the game for a while, he was making me feel so good.

"I'm gonna...I'm..." he muttered.

"Let it out Spence, cum for me baby."

And with that, he spilled his load inside the condom. He just kept coming and coming inside of me until there was nothing left. Spencer Reid was utterly and completely spent.

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

“Well Dr. Reid, you sure know how to please a woman,” you said poking him in the rib.

“What can I say, I’m an overachiever,” he replied with a cocky smile plastered on his face.

As I was about to go in for a kiss on his cheek, my cellphone rang, and it was a call from Penelope.

“Hello my pretty! Sorry in advance that I’m probably interrupting your sexy times with boy-wonder but I just couldn’t wait to tell you. You got the job!”

“Oh my goodness! That’s great news, thanks Penn! What department am I in?”

“You’re going to be working in the international intelligence department, aaaaand that means you’ll probably have to report your little romance directly to human resources.”

“Sounds good Garcia, we’ll take care of that first thing in the morning,” Reid interjected.

“Ah, so boy-wonder is there with you! Looks like you took my advice after all (Y/N),” Penelope replied.

I rolled my eyes and said “Goodnight Penelopeeee” in a sing-songy voice.

“Goodnight you two, be safe and don’t stay up tooooo late.”

“Aww, what ever happened to the fun Penelope Garcia?”

“She’s not here right now but leave a message, bye!” And with that our conversation was over.

“Guess it’s time to tell the rest of the team about us”

“I guess so Spence, good luck handling all the teasing on your own baby,” I said with a giggle and planted a kiss on his cheek before drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow was surely going to be an interesting day at the office.

__________________________________

AN: Thanks for all the love, shameless plug for my newest oneshot The Visit

Taglist: @alondralolll@irehluvr@abbeyskeff@kaldurahms-lover@mischiefmanaged21@cheerful-clarinet@julesasf69@its-like-twilight@spearbsm@xxrookexx@oliveoilthoughts@twilightlover2007@comboboo@breadrobin@sunflowers-420@the-holy-trinity-l@frickyea-guacamole19@ayatos-wife@ghostheartbeat@famfan-1034@ivyproblems@lavenderrway@rogerismyqueen@talkintrashcann@chatxconverse@phoenix1388@dumbredpotato@ourprisma@autisticallyreid@curvingdoll@strwbymoon@tomorrowxforever@alexabsinthe@myliteralhyperfixations19@cloudy-em@prentisszlover@cami-is-reading@ichundjulia@rubywritesblog@blameitonthenight21@xsophx27-blog@mariezanny@gubes-sweaters@ohmoaohbaby@lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests@secludedstarlight@clockgirl94@theonewhereifangirl@nervousmoongiver@tearsofsound@suburban-forest@unkn0wnnerd@creativeuser101@bigassnocash@chasedbyunclewalt@abbyandersonssecretgfsecretgf@iheartlilia@cryingabta@justsomeimbicel@ssaspencerreidswife@likeawinebottle@imanewsoul@singinghamtaro-blog@lovingperfectionsblog@deafeningmiraclecherryblossom@secretlovezz@inlovewithemilyprentiss@jenthebin@walmartclearance89@theseverefangirl@tulips-ean@gummybear123@myravenchaser@tpickett@librarymousesqueak@pocketful-of-sunflowers@climbingivy97@ghost-wonder@sparrow-winchester@thbckgrnd@mswgtsd@kirmaaa@taliegator@jinecie@unlikelypaintertreeknight@notagirlfangirl@sarahsmiles-user@luvehotch@cosmoscoffeee@ara-a-bird@lesbiansayaishii@itsmeelena@just-a-lil-xtra@willowtree42095@the-way-of-the-hall@theedwardscissorhandslover@thosewhocantdo-teach@slay-and-gay@luvurmind@witchyval@fandom-alley@wifeyreid@samandhislostshoe@whoamiomakeachange@xcastawayherosx@danis-stuff-is-here@love4lando

[breadbrobin]

lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

———————————————

“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt | John Price x Reader

Summary: Your good-for-nothing boyfriend won’t help you change out your flat tire in the cold, soaking rain, but luckily someone else comes along to assist, and teaches your boyfriend a lesson while he’s at it.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warnings: annoying boyfriend, toxic relationship, platonic!gaz being a cutiepie, price being the greenest flag known to mankind, fem!reader, I’ve never changed a tire before in my life and it’s glaringly obvious…

A/N: been in a major writing slump lately+school kicking my butt+I think I’m getting sick, but full credit to @ceilidho for this idea, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

Your day hadn’t been the shittiest so far, but it certainly hadn’t been great.

You’d been off that day, but your boyfriend had called, needing you to pick him up early from his job for whatever reason. He only worked at some little restaurant in town with a decent salary, enough to get food and rent paid for combined with your money anyway. Something about his shifts being moved or the schedule being off, but whatever it had been had been enough for you to hop into his truck, drive over to him, and pick him up.

“Did you cook for dinner tonight?”

He asked from the passenger seat, the seatbelt not even on, despite it already being dark because of the early winter months, and the rain coming down against the windshield. Your lights were on, but still.

“No, wasn’t thinkin’ about it.”

You replied with a small mumble, and he sighed. You were the one who cooked and kept the housework up, and he earned most of the money. It would be balanced, except for the fact that you earned almost the same amount of money as him, and also worked full-time. It barely left any time for meals, most just being pre-prepped on weekends, or thrown together.

“Guess we can just get takeout then.”

He said, tone holding a bit of disappointment. You sighed inwardly, turning your turn signal on as you went down the road to one of the nearest places there. It was a run-down chicken joint that you were pretty sure was a front for some sort of illegal activities, but they had delicious chicken at cheap prices, so you weren’t complaining.

Your mind began to wander when you thought about the restaurant, and what you’d order. You hoped your boyfriend had brought his card because you’d left your wallet at home, ID and license long forgotten. Well, I guess you were just hoping to not get pulled over tonight, or come in contact with any cops.

As if whatever gods there were had heard your thought process, a small ‘thump’ caught your attention, and then a light squeaking sound as the air pressure in your front right tire began rapidly decreasing. With a sigh, you pulled over onto the side of the not-too-busy road. Your boyfriend gave an exasperated exhale.

“We’re gonna have to change the tire.”

You said, and he gave you a withering glance, jerking his chin towards the back of the truck.

“Spare’s in the back. Got a few tools back there to get ‘er done.”

A small pause for a moment as your hand reached for the handle of the door, and he didn’t move at all. You just stared in pure shock.

“You aren’t going to help?”

He gave you a look as if to say you were being ridiculous and illogical right now. You hated that look.

“I just got off work. I’m tired and hungry, and your poor driving skills aren’t my problem.”

He said with a shrug like it was obvious. Your mind still reeling, you searched for the little umbrella you kept near the console, only to find it missing. Great, just great, you thought.

With no other option, you stepped outside, immediately being pelted by the cold raindrops, and skin being lashed at by the harsh wind. You walked around to the trunk, opening the back, and finding the spare tire there, and a toolbox as well. Your shivering hands sorted through the cold metal tools, eventually finding a lug wrench, and a screwdriver, and behind the toolbox you found a jack.

You advanced towards the flat tire, rolling the spare behind you, and you knelt, skirt already soaking wet, your white shirt soaked through and not leaving much to the imagination as it was practically see-through and sticking to your form. The lug nuts didn’t come off easily, but somehow, your fingers got them.

Right when you began using the screwdriver to try and get the hubcap off, something else caught your attention.

Another car, beat up, but well-loved on and taken care of pulled up behind you on the side of the road. It stopped, and two men stepped out. One was taller, with a beard, a thick cigar in his mouth, and a hat on. He might’ve been one of the owners of that chicken restaurant. Whatever it was, he looked familiar. The other man had pretty brown skin, was less tall but still had some muscle in him like the other man, and wore his hat.

The taller one strode up to you just as you managed to pry the hubcap off. His brows furrowed as he looked at your boyfriend sitting in the car, and you, drenched in rain, changing the flat tire of the truck he assumed probably wasn’t even yours.

“Gaz, come help ‘er out wit’ this.”

He said, his voice brusque but also warm at the same time. Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet, he gave a nod of his head to you.

“John Price, that there is Kyle, but we call ‘im Gaz.”

You blinked, and Kyle walked over, crouching down next to you and offering a polite smile. One that didn’t quite meet his eyes, but it wasn’t rude. Price must’ve noticed your shivering form or the sheer white shirt that was clear because of the rain because he took his brown jacket off and put it around your shoulders. The insides were fuzzy and warm, and it was oversized, but enough to keep the heat insulated and the wet cold out. A bit surprised, you simply said your name.

“Oh..thanks. Y/N.”

You offered, for some reason trusting these strangers enough to give them your real name. Something about them felt right. Price nodded, then raised a brow at your boyfriend in the car, who still hadn’t noticed them, too preoccupied with his phone.

“What’s a pretty birdie like you doin’ changin’ wheels out here?”

John asked, and you weren’t sure what overcame you, but you cast a glance up at the boy in the car.

“He wasn’t going to help.”

Gaz and Price both looked slightly taken aback by that, exchanging glances, as Price opened up the door where your boyfriend was (avoiding hitting you or his sergeant's heads with it, of course) and pulled him out by the collar.

“Hey—what-“

Price shut him up real quick, then moved to hold him by the scruff of his neck.

“Now you listen here, why’ve you got your girl ou’ here doing all this work in the soakin’ rain, when you should be the one doing this, yeah?”

He asked, and your boyfriend turned a light shade of pink that wasn’t fully visible in the dark of the night.

“Well, I..”

“I’ll show you how a real man provides for his partner. Garrick, move over.”

He shoved your boyfriend back into the grass, and Gaz scooted more to the right, letting Price take the left side. Price carefully grabbed you by the hips and moved you back, out of the way, but to where you could still watch and hear him talk.

“Can’t believe it, ‘at’s ridiculous.”

He muttered, and Kyle shook his head.

“Can’t help but agree, sir.”

They used the jack to jack the car up, strong arms easily placing the spare tire in place, Gaz holding it up while Price screwed the lugnuts back on. While putting the hubcap back on, John began talking to you.

“You oughta find you a man, someone that would provide for you, that lil’ boy you got isn’t it. We’d never treat a woman like that, now would we, Gaz?”

“Never, sir.”

“Look at ‘im, two complete strangers are here, changing out his tire, and he ain’t offered a lick o’ help.”

He said, shaking his head, not even glancing back at your boyfriend who still was sitting in the grass behind you all. The hubcap was put back into place, and they both stood, lowering the jack before removing it. Price offered you a hand up, and you took it, surprisingly enjoying how his burly callouses felt against your soft skin. Kyle put the tools and jack back in the trunk, before again being at Price’s side.

His eyes met Kyle’s, and Kyle took out a small notepad and pen, scribbling something down, before passing it to John who did the same. They tore the paper off, handing it to you. It was their numbers, Gas’s having a little smiley face next to it, and Price’s having a simple ‘Call me’.

“If you’re ever in trouble, give us a ring.”

Price said, and Gaz nodded as if to confirm this. You took the piece of paper and folded it in half, putting it in your pocket to protect it from the rain. Price gave you a little pat on the back, and Gaz brushed his hand ever so slightly against yours, before they both walked back to their car, getting in, and driving off with nothing more than a wave.

With a judgemental look down at your boyfriend, you got into the car, throwing his things that were still inside out at him where he was still sitting in the grass.

“We’re done.”

And with that, you drove off before his angry cussing started.

It was only when you got home that night (to the shared apartment, which you would very soon be leaving) that you noticed something. Price hadn’t ever taken his jacket back.

[woniedarlin]

Business Proposal: Yang Jungwon

pairing: Jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: You don’t know what to begin with Yang Jungwon. He is your co-worker in a company you are in and you despise that cat-looking man. And he despises you. It’s been going on ever since the beginning. You swear you had enough of him. But it seems like the world is not on your side because as much as you respect the Ceo, you just want to leave the company almost immediately. Why? Because he decided to partner you up with Jungwon on a project together. This seems like a recipe for disaster. Oh goodness… what to do…what to do...

genre: Enemies/ Co-workers to lovers, forced proximity, angst, fluff

warnings: suggestive (mdni) WHOLE LOT OF ARGUING, BULLYING, CUSSING, AND GOSSIPING, You just hate each other honestly, Mentions of crying, strangling. Let me know if there is more!

note: Thank you to 🦋 anonie for requesting this!! I’m really sorry that it took me a lot of time to make this. It was a great idea and I’m just a sucker for this trope 🙈. I deeply apologize if it wasn’t on your expectations and I’ll do my best to keep improving. I had fun making this and I appreciate your patience. Happy reading darlingss!!

permanent taglist: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

Caution: I’M SURE YA’LL WILL BE GIGGLING AND SQUEALING IN THIS DHWHBXJWHS WRITING THIS WAS SO OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE. Reading discretion is advised 😽

You and Jungwon have always been at each other’s throats ever since you both started working at the company. From your perspective, he’s arrogant and dismissive, constantly interrupting your ideas and making you feel undervalued. From Jungwon’s perspective, you’re overly controlling and unwilling to listen.

Your mutual disdain is well-known around the office. Despite your talents and contributions, your inability to see eye to eye has created a rift that seems impossible to bridge.

Today, you receive a message to report to the CEO’s office—or Mr. Jeon, as you and your colleagues call him. You feel both anxious and curious, wondering what this could be about. As you approach the office, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“What could this be about? I hope it’s not more bad news.”

You open the door to the CEO’s office and immediately see that shitface. No, not Mr. Jeon, but that bitch who's already seated, looking equally puzzled.

Jungwon’s eyes looked over to you as you entered the office. Both surprise and annoyance flash across his face, his lips pursing slightly.

“You too, huh?” he remarks, his voice tinged with irritation.

Mr. Jeon, who is sitting behind his desk, smiles at both of you. “Ah, you’re both here. Good. Have a seat, Y/n.” You sit in the chair beside Jungwon.

Mr. Jeon laces his fingers together, his gaze moving between you and Jungwon. “I’m sure both of you are wondering why I called you here today.”

Jungwon remains silent, but inside, he’s bracing for a reprimand. Meanwhile, you nod, genuinely curious about the reason behind the summoning. Is he tired of the constant fighting between you and that idiot?

“As you know, the company has been facing some challenges lately, and we’ve been looking for ways to streamline our operations and increase efficiency.” He leans forward, his eyes fixing on both of you. “That’s why we’ve decided to assign you two to work on a project together.”

“With all due respect, sir, we’ve had our…differences. Are you sure this is the best idea?” you say with disbelief. No offense, but is Mr. Jeon alright?

The CEO nods, clearly having anticipated this objection. “I understand your concerns, but allow me to explain. The project we have in mind will require both of your unique skill sets and perspectives. We believe that working together will not only make the project more successful but will also help the two of you learn to collaborate effectively.”

He looks at both you and Jungwon. “This is an opportunity to put aside your differences and focus on the task at hand. Can I count on both of you to give this your best shot?”

You glance at Jungwon with slight disgust, which he meets with a momentary glare before looking back at Mr. Jeon. There’s obvious hesitation in his eyes, but he eventually nods, knowing he has no other choice. “If that’s what the company needs, I’ll do my part.”

“And how about you, Y/n?” Mr. Jeon looks at you.

You look down, fiddling with your fingers. You don’t want to disappoint him, even if it means working alongside that cat-looking man. You look up and nod. “I’ll do my part as well.”

Mr. Jeon smiles, clearly pleased with your responses. “Excellent. I have every confidence that the two of you will make an outstanding team. I want daily updates on your progress. You’re to work closely together and keep me informed about anything that may arise.”

He stands up, signaling the end of the meeting. “That’s all for now. You’re both dismissed.”

You stand up, bowing slightly at Mr. Jeon before quickly walking away from his office, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Jungwon follows suit, falling in step behind you as you exit the CEO’s office. The silence between you is deafening, both of you still processing the fact that you’ve been thrown into this situation together.

You then glare at him, which he returns with equal intensity. “Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t my idea,” he says, his tone dripping with annoyance.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “Whatever.”

Jungwon huffs in frustration, his patience already wearing thin. “Can you just cut the attitude for a second? We’re stuck working together, whether we like it or not. So can we just find a way to make this bearable?”

He then adds, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “We need to set some ground rules if this is going to work.”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips curling into a slight sneer. “Fine. What do you propose?”

Jungwon crosses his arms over his chest as if to mimic you. “For starters, no more eye rolls or backhanded comments every time something doesn’t go your way. We’re adults, not teenagers.”

“And two, we need to be open to each other’s ideas. That means no shutting down suggestions without hearing the other person out.”

Hearing that makes you snicker. “You always shut down my ideas.”

Jungwon rolls his eyes, clearly irritated by the accusation. “That’s not true. I just think your ideas are unrealistic and impractical, that’s all. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. It’s not all about you.”

You take a step closer to him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Maybe if you listened, you’d see the potential instead of dismissing everything outright,” you say with a sarcastic tone.

He scoffs, his irritation growing with every word. “Oh, please. It’s not like your ideas are groundbreaking. They’re half-baked and lack any real substance. Why should I waste time listening to something that has no chance of working?”

You step even closer, eyes blazing with defiance. “Because sometimes taking risks and thinking outside the box is what leads to real innovation, something you clearly don’t understand.”

Jungwon’s voice lowers, his anger barely contained. “I understand plenty. Don’t assume you know more than I do. Your so-called ‘innovations’ are nothing more than pipe dreams. You need to learn to be more realistic and grounded in the world we live in.”

You raise your voice a little, practically spitting the words. “You know what? I’ll add another rule—if we’re going to work together, we need to communicate clearly.”

Jungwon lets out a humorless laugh. “You want communication? That’s rich coming from you. Any time I try to communicate with you, you immediately get defensive and start attacking. It’s impossible to have a rational conversation with you.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes. “Maybe if you stopped being so condescending, I’d be more inclined to listen and have a rational conversation.”

Jungwon bristles visibly at being called condescending. “How am I supposed to talk to you when you’re so stubborn that you won’t listen to reason? You’re always convinced that you know best, even when you’re clearly wrong.”

You’re about to snap back when your co-worker, Dae, approaches the both of you. “I know you two have your disagreements, but some of us…well, all of us are focusing on our work, so you two need to stop,” he says gently.

Jungwon and you are both startled by Dae’s sudden appearance.

Jungwon sighs, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll keep it down.”

Dae smiles a little and mutters, “Thank you,” before walking back to his cubicle.

You exhale sharply, turning back to Jungwon. “Well, how are we supposed to do the project? Where?”

Jungwon glances around, thinking for a moment. “We need to find a place where we can work on the project without distractions. How about the empty meeting room on the third floor?”

You cross your arms, nodding slowly as if testing the idea. “Fine, we’ll do our project there.”

Jungwon nods, already mentally preparing himself to work closely with you. He’s begrudgingly accepting the reality that he’s going to have to spend a lot of time in your presence over the next few weeks. “Let’s head over there now so we can start getting things set up.”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable clashes to come. “Lead the way,” you say, your voice with resignation.

👠

You follow Jungwon into the empty meeting room and take a seat across from him. The tension is evident as both of you sit in silence for a few moments, neither knowing how to break the ice.

Finally, Jungwon sighs and opens his laptop, breaking the silence. “Alright, let’s get to work. We need to come up with a plan for the project.”

You bring out your laptop, placing it on the table before opening it. The hum of the machines fills the room as you both start to settle into the task at hand.

Jungwon scrolls through a few documents on his screen before speaking again. “Here’s what I was thinking we could do… But first, I want to hear your thoughts on the matter.” He looks at you, genuinely curious to hear your opinion, albeit begrudgingly.

You look at him, “Gladly. I think we should focus on an interactive online campaign that uses social media influencers to create buzz. It’s effective and has a wide reach.”

Jungwon considers your suggestion for a moment, his expression remaining neutral. “I disagree. I think a more traditional approach, like a series of high-profile events and trade shows, would give the product the prestige it needs. Face-to-face interactions create a stronger impact.”

You lean forward, your hands resting on the table. “Events are important, but they take time to organize and can be expensive. We need quick and impactful results.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrow slightly as he counters your argument. “And social media campaigns can be hit or miss. We need something reliable and established.”

You groan frustration is evident in your voice. “Ugh, it’s only been minutes and we are already breaking our rules.”

Jungwon lets out a scoff. “You’re the one who started it by offering up your unrealistic ideas.”

You glare at him, your tone sharp. “And you’re the one who shot them down without even giving them a chance.”

Jungwon throws his hands up in frustration, rolling his eyes. “Because they wouldn’t work! You need to accept reality and stop living in your fantasyland!”

Taking a deep breath, you try to find a compromise. Arguing won’t get the project started, and you know you need to approach this with an open mind. “Fine. What if we combine both approaches? Start with a high-profile launch event to get the initial attention, and then follow up with an aggressive online campaign to maintain the momentum?”

Jungwon considers your suggestion for a moment, his irritation gradually giving way to contemplation. After a few seconds, he nods, begrudgingly accepting the compromise. “That… might just work. The event will generate buzz, and the online campaign will keep the momentum going. I can see your idea being viable in this context.”

You nod with a neutral expression, though a hint of satisfaction creeps into your eyes. “Glad to hear it.”

He lets out a sigh, his tone slightly more civil than before. “Alright, so we’ve agreed on the approach, at least in theory. Let’s start drafting the plans for both the event and the online campaign. We need to set timelines and assign responsibilities.”

You type a few notes into your laptop, feeling a tentative sense of progress. “Sounds good to me.”

👠

The weeks have been both of tension and resentful cooperation. The process has not been smooth sailing, with numerous disagreements and clashes between you and Jungwon. However, the progress of the project has kept both of you from completely succumbing to your differences. You’ve managed to finalize the plans for the event and the online campaign, although not without a few heated discussions.

As you review the progress the two of you have made, you can’t help but wonder how the project will turn out despite the constant clashes between you and Jungwon.

It’s very late at night, and it seems like it’s just the two of you left in the building. You close your laptop with a sigh. “Alright, we’ll continue this tomorrow.”

Jungwon yawns and rubs his eyes, exhaustion setting in. The hours of working non-stop and being in close proximity to you have taken their toll on him.

He glances at his watch, realizing how late it is. “Yeah, I guess that’s all we can get done tonight. We should both get some rest and pick this up fresh tomorrow.”

You look at him in quiet disgust. “You look like shit, by the way.”

He shoots you a withering glare, not appreciating the insult. He looks exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his usually meticulously styled hair now sticking up at odd angles. “Yeah, well, you don’t look so picture-perfect yourself.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to respond. He watches as you leave without another word. He runs a hand through his messy hair, trying to fix it. Despite his annoyance with you, he can’t help but notice that even late at night, you still manage to look composed and elegant. It irks him, adding to his already simmering resentment.

👠

The next day, you and Jungwon are taking a break near the empty meeting room. The atmosphere is tense as usual, and neither of you seem eager to break the silence.

Then you hear your colleagues Hwan and Jiho’s voices coming from around the corner.

“I can’t believe Mr. Jeon paired them up. They’re both such a mess. This project is doomed,” Jiho said.

Jungwon’s face tightens, his scowl deepening as he listens to the dismissive assessment. He has always prided himself on his capability and work ethic, and this kind of criticism stings.

He glances at you, noticing the flicker of discomfort in your eyes. You’re silent, but it’s clear that the comments have affected you as well.

Hwan adds, “I know, right? I don’t know what Mr. Jeon was thinking. Those two bicker more than they get any actual work done.”

As Hwan and Jiho continue their gossip, Jiho suddenly notices something over Hwan’s shoulder and widens his eyes. Hwan turned around to see...

One with very sharp eyes and the other whose expression are unreadable.

The air grows thick with tension as Hwan and Jiho fall silent, their faces flushing with embarrassment.

“You know, if you have something to say, you could at least say it to our faces,” Jungwon says, his voice cool but edged with irritation. His eyes lock onto theirs, clearly displeased with being the subject of their gossip.

Your expression remains deadpan as you add, “And if you have any doubts about our abilities, you’ll see the results soon enough. We’re not here to entertain your gossip.”

Jiho shifts nervously, stammering as they try to offer a weak apology. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you. I just... uh, I just heard people talking...”

Their voice trails off as they struggle to find a way to excuse their behavior. You roll your eyes, unimpressed.

“This is why Mr. Jeon never gave you two such an important task,” you say, your tone dripping with subtle disdain.

Both Hwan and Jiho blush furiously, their egos bruised by your comment. Hwan stutters awkwardly before blurting out, “That’s not true! I’ve done plenty of important projects before…”

Jungwon lets out a sarcastic huff, smirking. “Yeah, sure. Running errands and fetching coffee.”

Hwan’s face reddens further at Jungwon’s dismissive retort. He glances at you and then back at Jungwon, struggling to come up with a response but failing miserably.

The two men exchange nervous glances, clearly intimidated. They mumble apologetically, their heads ducked in embarrassment, before hastily retreating down the hallway.

"Looks like we scared them off," Jungwon says, glancing at you with a satisfied smirk.

You nod and return his gaze. "That felt good."

Jungwon snorts, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, it did. It’s about time someone put those gossip-hounds in their place."

He meets your eyes, his expression growing more serious. "But, honestly, I’m surprised we managed to agree on something for once."

You tilt your head, "That they’re pieces of shit?"

Jungwon laughs, genuinely and unexpectedly, as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, that part. At least we can agree on that."

He pauses, then adds, "Well, enough about them. I haven’t even finished eating my curry."

You nod, "Yeah, me neither."

Jungwon gestures towards the break room where he left his lunch. "Come on then, no point in letting our meals get cold while we stand around gossiping."

"We’re not gossiping. Those assholes are," you reply.

He grins, "Alright, maybe 'gossiping' isn’t the right word. Let’s call it 'expressing our dislike for annoying coworkers' instead."

"Definitely. Come on," you say, heading towards the break room.

He follows you into the break room, where his lunch waits on the table. Jungwon sits down and picks up his curry, giving it a quick stir with his spoon. "Hope you don’t mind me eating while we talk. I get cranky when I’m hungry."

You tease, "You still look like shit even if you do something."

Jungwon rolls his eyes and shoots you a mock glare. "Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll be sure to consider that constructive feedback."

👠

The project continues to slowly progress, albeit with the usual tension bubbling up here and there.

Despite the occasional setbacks and clashes, the two of you manage to find a sort of grudging respect for each other's skills and work ethic. It's not necessarily friendly respect, as you still find each other quite annoying. But there's an acknowledgment of the fact that the other isn't completely useless.

But today wasn’t your day.

You were struggling with menstruation but decided to come to work anyway, taking some pain relievers to get through the day. As you were picking up some items to bring to the meeting room, you overheard a familiar voice—Ara’s—gossiping about you. She dislikes you for being partners with Jungwon.

“She’s always so high and mighty, acting like she’s better than everyone else. This is why Jungwon hates her. Mr. Jeon should have partnered me with him. I just know the project would be done in no time.”

Usually, you would confront anyone talking badly about you, but today, the words cut deeper than usual, leaving you stunned and hurt.

Trying to compose yourself, you headed to the empty meeting room where Jungwon was typing away at his laptop. You kept your head down, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears forming in your eyes.

Jungwon glanced up from his laptop and immediately sensed something was off. He could tell you were fighting back tears and visibly upset.

He pushed away from the table and approached you.

“Who did this to you?”

‘’It’s nothing.’’ You wiped your tears and avoided his gaze.

He frowns, not buying your dismissive reply. He stops in front of you, forcing you to look at him. “It’s not nothing. You’re clearly upset about something. And if someone has hurt you, I need to know.”

There’s genuine concern in his voice. Despite your ongoing animosity, he can’t ignore the fact that you’re visibly distressed.

He watches as you struggle to find the words, his frown deepening. He reaches out, gently placing a hand on your cheek to tilt your head up. "Hey, look at me. Tell me what happened. Who made you cry like this? Was it Hwan? Or Jiho?"

‘’…It’s Ara…I overheard her..she said some things about me and reasons why you hated me.’’

He scowls at the mention of Ara's name, his expression darkening. He can easily picture her making such comments. She's been a source of tension and conflict within the office, constantly stirring up drama and gossip.

"And you believe her?" He said while caressing your cheek.

‘’Yeah?’’ You said while sniffing.

He shakes his head, clearly annoyed at both you and Ara. "Why would you believe the words of someone as petty and envious as her? You should know by now that her opinions are not worth the air they waste."

He continued, "You might be a headache and pain in the ass most of the time, but you're not conceited. You've worked hard to earn everything you have. You're talented and capable, and you know it. Don't let her convince you otherwise.”

He releases his hand from your cheek, “And next time you hear her talking about you, you tell me. I’ll deal with her before she spreads more of her bullshit around.”

He gently wipes your tears. “You know what? I’ll be right back.”

Jungwon left the meeting room and made his way to Ara’s cubicle, his eyes fixed on her with a steely glare. Ara’s face brightened at his approach.

“Oh, hi Jungwon. Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Follow me,” he said, his sharp eyes making Ara frown slightly.

He shut the door behind them, ensuring privacy. Ara’s nervousness was felt.

“Jungwon, I-”

“Shut up.” He cut her off sharply. “I heard what you said about Y/n. Care to explain why you’re spreading lies about her?”

“I was just saying what others were thinking,” Ara stuttered, her eyes darting fearfully.

Jungwon scoffed, his patience wearing thin. “Bullshit. You’re just jealous because she’s more talented and ambitious than you.”

He continued, “And I’m warning you. If I hear you talking trash about her again, I’ll make sure you regret it. I can get you kicked out of here with just a word to Mr. Jeon.”

Ara swallowed nervously, clearly intimidated. “I-I’m sorry, Jungwon. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

Jungwon scowled, unsatisfied with her apology. “You’ll be apologizing to Y/n, too. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll make damn sure it’s sincere. Now come with me, you’ll be apologizing to her. Now.”

He led her back to the meeting room where you were waiting. Jungwon gestured to Ara. “Go on. Say what you need to say.”

Ara approached you, her voice trembling. “Um, Y/n, I-I just wanted to say—”

She faltered under Jungwon’s glare. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things about you. I didn’t mean it.”

Jungwon watched the scene closely, his expression unreadable. Once Ara finished her apology, he released her. “You can go now.”

Ara nodded quickly, clearly relieved, and scurried out of the room. Jungwon turned to you.

“You didn’t have to,” you said softly, your voice tinged with residual emotion.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course, I had to. You just sat there and took her bullshit without defending yourself.”

His expression softened unexpectedly. “Why didn’t you say anything? You usually stand up for yourself.” You looked down, feeling embarrassed. He then continued, “No offense, but you’ve dealt with worse and come out stronger.”

Jungwon reached out and gently wiped a tear from your cheek. “So why did it affect you so much? Why did it make you cry?”

You closed your eyes, your voice barely a whisper. “I just… I feel sensitive today because…”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Because…?”

You hesitated before admitting, “I’m on my period.”

Jungwon blinked in surprise, then nodded in understanding. “Ah, I see. That would make sense.” He smirked, a playful glint in his eye. “Explains why you’re so emotional today.”

“But still, her words shouldn’t have gotten to you. You’re too talented and capable to let petty remarks affect you.”

You shook your head. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m not the kind to sugarcoat things. You know that.”

He looked at you directly. “I’m serious. You’re a pain in the ass and a constant headache, but that’s because you’re ambitious and talented. Her words are just petty bullshit. Don’t let them get to you.”

He patted your hair gently, a surprisingly affectionate gesture. “And next time someone talks trash about you, tell me. I’ll take care of it.”

You were touched by his words and, despite your attempts to hold it together, started crying harder. Your shoulders shook as you tried to suppress your sobs.

Jungwon looked alarmed, clearly unsure how to handle your emotional outburst. He awkwardly patted your back. “Hey, calm down. You’re gonna give yourself a headache with all that crying. Take a deep breath.”

You managed to choke out between sniffles, “Why are you being so kind today?”

Jungwon looked taken aback by your question. “What do you mean? I’m always kind.”

“Bullshit,” you muttered, wiping your tears with the back of your hands.

He smirked at your bluntness. “Careful now. You’re the one crying your eyes out.”

His smirk softened slightly. “But seriously, stop crying. You’re making me get all emotional.”

“You too?” you asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

Jungwon scowled, though his tone was softer. “Yeah, yeah. Make fun of me all you want. You’re the one blubbering like a baby.”

You continued to sniffle and then let out a small, amused laugh. “I want to see you cry so I can take a picture and post it on Instagram.”

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Fat chance. I’m not crying just to satisfy your twisted sense of humor. Plus, I’d look even more handsome than you if I was crying, so you’d be jealous.”

You laughed a little more, feeling somewhat better. “You know what? We should get back to the project. Mr. Jeon might kick our asses.”

He shook his head, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You go from crying to work mode in no time. Damn, you’re back to being a pain in the ass.”

“First, do you have a napkin? I have a snot…” you said, holding up the empty tissue box.

He winced, clearly disgusted at your tear-stained, snot-filled face, but still reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pack of tissues. “Here. Clean yourself up already. You’re a mess.”

You took the tissue gratefully, wiping your nose. “Thank you. Let’s get back to work.”

He watched as you blew your nose and tried to compose yourself. “Yeah, the sooner we finish this, the sooner I’ll be rid of your snot-filled face.”

“It only happened today!” you protested.

He scoffed, a smug expression on his face. “Yeah, I know. I’m being extra generous today, dealing with your hormonal, leaky self.”

“Stop!” you said, swatting his arm.

He exaggeratedly winced, his hand on his arm. “Ouch! Watch it, I almost lost a limb.”

You glared at him but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You moved to sit down at your desk, opening your laptop, with tissues at the side.

Jungwon settled next to you, opening his laptop. “Alright, time to get back to business. Let’s finish this project ASAP so I can get a break from your whining.”

👠

The two have been working closely and starting to get along better, but the stress of the approaching deadline and their differences lead to friction. They’ve been working late nights, and exhaustion is wearing on both of them, making tempers shorter.

They have a disagreement over a critical aspect of the project, such as the direction of the campaign. The argument escalates quickly, with both raising their voices, airing out frustrations not just about the project but also about each other’s working styles and personal issues.

“You’re always so stubborn, never willing to see anyone else’s perspective!” you shout at him, frustration boiling over.

He snaps back, his temper flaring up further. "And you're always so bossy, expecting everyone to follow your lead without question! You act like you're the only one who knows what's best. Maybe if you'd listen to other people for once, we wouldn’t be in this mess!"

“And maybe if you weren’t so stubborn and dismissive, we’d make progress instead of constantly arguing!” you retort, your voice rising.

He glares at you, his patience wearing thin. "Dismissive? I'm not the one who thinks they know everything. You're so set on dominating every decision that you can't even see when you're wrong."

He crosses his arms, a look of defiance on his face. "Maybe if you'd learn to compromise once in a while, we wouldn't be stuck in this damn cycle of arguing and getting nowhere!"

“Compromise works both ways, Jungwon. Maybe if you stopped acting like you always have the right answer, we’d actually find a solution that works for both of us!” you fire back, your eyes blazing with anger.

He scoffs, his defenses automatically going up even further. "You're one to talk! You’re just as guilty of stubbornly sticking to your position as I am. You never listen to anyone else’s perspectives, and then you get all defensive when someone challenges your ideas."

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated by the situation. "Maybe if you stopped being so confident in your infallibility, we’d actually be able to find a middle ground."

The argument reaches a peak, with both of you standing close, faces flushed with anger.

His eyes blaze with irritation as he glares at you, “You never give an inch, do you? It’s always your way or no way with you, isn’t it? You can’t even admit when you’re wrong.”

“You’re so quick to point fingers and place the blame, never considering that maybe, just maybe, you’re part of the problem too,” you say, your voice shaking with frustration.

As the words hang in the air, the tension between you becomes almost unbearable.

“Fuck this.”

He pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss is intense and passionate. “Shut up. Just shut up for a goddamn second,” he mutters in between kisses. His hands move to cradle your face, holding you tightly as he devours your lips.

The kiss breaks abruptly at the sound of the door opening. Jungwon steps back quickly, trying to act as if nothing had just happened, but his flushed face and the rapid rise and fall of his chest betray the intensity of the moment.

Dae raises an eyebrow at the scene before him, clearly having walked in on an interesting moment. “It’s getting late. I suggest you two go home and continue the project tomorrow.”

Jungwon shoots a sharp glare at Dae but forces himself to calm down. “Yeah, alright. We were about to leave anyway." He picks up his laptop and shoves it into his bag, his movements a bit rushed and restless.

You pack your things, your heart still racing from the kiss. Jungwon watches you, his gaze never leaving you. He feels different kinds of emotions—frustration, confusion, and a whole lot more.

After you finish packing, he clears his throat softly. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you to your car.” He leads the way out of the office, his footsteps a little faster than usual. As you walk side by side in silence, he steals glances at you from the corner of his eye, clearly still affected by the earlier kiss.

Finally, as you reach your car, he pauses and turns to face you. “Listen, about… that back there—” He trails off, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know why I did that. I just got so frustrated with that whole argument, and I guess I just... lost it. I’m sorry.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m sorry too.”

He lets out a deep exhale, his shoulders sagging slightly. “We need to find a way to work together without constantly arguing and… making things more complicated.”

He gives a light, self-deprecating chuckle. “Maybe we should start by not screaming at each other and then kissing each other senseless.”

You look up at him, trying to process everything. “Definitely,” you agree softly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips despite the tension.

He runs a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit you’ve noticed. “I… I just can’t figure you out sometimes, you know? One minute you’re driving me insane by being so stubborn, and the next you’re looking at me with those eyes, all innocent and… damn it.” He drags a hand over his face, frustration evident in every line of his body.

He continued. “And I can’t decide if I want to rip your clothes off or wring your neck. Hell, maybe both.”

You glare at him, surprised at his words. “Pervert!” you exclaim, pushing him back with a firm hand on his chest.

He laughs a low, gravelly sound. “I never claimed to be anything else. But admit it, you don’t exactly hate it.”

You keep your hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “Stop it,” you insist, your voice softer now, almost pleading.

He looks down at your hands on his chest, a small smirk forming. He lifts his own hands and covers yours with his, holding them against his chest. “Stop what? Saying what I’m thinking? I’ve never been good at hiding my thoughts, you should know that by now.”

You sigh, frustration evident in your voice. “I’m confused. Why the hell did you kiss me?”

“Because… I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why I did it, or why it felt so good, or why I want to kiss you again right now. I just... can’t think straight around you sometimes. You make me feel all twisted up inside.” He pauses, his eyes searching your face for understanding.

“You drive me crazy in the most frustrating and arousing way possible. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Do you like me or what?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

He hesitates for just a moment, his expression torn. Then he gives a half-smile. “I… don’t know. Maybe. Probably. Yes. I definitely want you, that’s for sure.”

“But I’m also frustrated as hell by you, and confused as hell by you. It’s a complicated mix of emotions, I can tell you that.”

You shake your head, feeling just as confused. “You’re confused, I’m fucking confused, bro.”

He laughs a little at your outburst. “Well, at least we’re both confused. Great way to start a... whatever this would be.”

He continues, his tone softening. “You’re really cute when you cuss. It doesn’t fit your whole innocent angel persona you usually have going on.”

You raise your eyebrows, looking at him as if he was insane. “Innocent? You have seen me fight, right?”

He rolls his eyes, but his expression is lighthearted. “Yeah, I know you’re fierce. But you also give off this innocent, angelic vibe, with your long lashes and cute little pouts. It’s confusing as hell if you want me to be honest.”

“Well, whatever this is, you and I better finish the project. So we can have that goddamn paycheck,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back to work.

“Yeah, you’re right. We can figure this other stuff out later, I guess.” He takes a small step back, creating a bit of space between you. “We’ll finish the project. Just… try not to drive me insane in the process, okay?”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” you ask, tilting your head.

He gives you an exasperated look. “How the hell should I know? Stop being so stubborn, maybe. Stop being so damn cute and looking at me like that. That’d be a good start.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you should stop being an asshole then,” you say, crossing your arms.

He laughs, shaking his head. “And there’s that sharp tongue that drives me insane. Can’t go two minutes without calling me an ass, can you?”

You groan, “Can’t you just let me go? I really have to go home.”

“Yeah, alright. I don’t want to keep you from your beauty sleep any longer.” He nods at you. “Have a good night. And don’t work too hard on the project tonight. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

You offer a small smile, feeling the tension ease slightly. “You bet,” you reply, then you open the car door and slide into the driver’s seat.

He watches as you get into your car, a small smile playing on his lips. As much as the two of you butted heads and drove each other crazy, he couldn’t deny the attraction that was slowly building between you.

“That woman honestly… my woman,” he mutters to himself as he walks away.

👠

You and Jungwon continued to work together, and with the project’s success, there was a sense of accomplishment that was hard to ignore. Despite all the tension, the team had pulled off something impressive.

He’s sitting at his desk, reviewing the project’s metrics, when he looks up and catches your eye from across the office. A half-smile quirks, and he gives a slight nod, acknowledging your shared accomplishment. For now, the project’s success took precedence over your differences.

He watches as you return his nod. The tension between you has lessened somewhat, an unspoken truce having formed as you both focus on the successful outcome of the project.

He looks back down at his computer screen, the numbers, and figures a welcome distraction from the thoughts of you that were still on his mind.

He wonders if the peace between you will last, or if things will return to the bickering and arguing once the high of success wears off.

👠

Mr. Jeon, has decided to celebrate in the company building to acknowledge the hard work and success of the project. The office is decorated, and a small party is in full swing. Colleagues are mingling, enjoying drinks and snacks, while music plays softly in the background.

Jungwon stands off to the side of the room, nursing a drink and watching the party unfold. His eyes occasionally scan the room, searching for the one person he both wants to see and dreads seeing - you.

When he finally spots you, he feels a jolt of something in his chest - a mix of attraction and irritation. You look as effortless and beautiful as ever.

Out of hesitation, he decides to approach you. He reaches your side, clearing his throat softly to get your attention. “Need a minute?”

You look up, meeting his gaze. “Of course.”

He leads you away from the noise and bustle of the party, finding a quieter spot in another office far away. Once there, he turns to face you. “First of all, I just wanted to say... that we did good. The project was a success, and we managed to put aside our differences for the sake of the company. I guess we actually make a halfway decent team.”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I guess we do. It’s surprising how well we managed to pull it off despite all the arguing.”

He lets out a small chuckle, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Who would have thought, huh? The company’s most vocal enemies actually working together and pulling off something amazing.”

“But I guess I have to ask... how are we going to keep this truce up? You're still a headache, you know?”

You shrug, trying to keep the mood light. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. Maybe we need to communicate better or add some ground rules.”

Jungwon's smile fades slightly, replaced by a look of frustration. “Damn it, you’re so frustrating. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here, and you just... never give a straight answer.”

You’re standing so close to each other that he has to tilt his head down slightly to maintain eye contact. “Do you have any idea how confusing you are? One minute I want to strangle you, and the next minute I want to—”

He cuts himself off abruptly, looking away. “Never mind, it doesn't matter.”

You’ve had enough of his mixed signals.

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “I’ve had enough. Do you like me or not? I can’t keep doing this if you’re just going to keep me guessing.”

He lets out a gruff laugh, shaking his head. “You’re always so straightforward, aren’t you? Can’t even give me a moment’s peace to figure out what I’m feeling.”

He looks back down at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, I… I think I do. Love you, I mean. I know it’s insane, and it’s probably the worst idea I’ve ever had, but I can’t seem to help it.”

A mixture of relief and joy floods through you. “I know because I love you too, asshole. It’s been driving me crazy, trying to figure out how you feel. But I need to know where we stand. Are we going to keep pretending like this isn’t happening?”

He's startled for a moment, not expecting your sudden admission. But as your lips meet him, he loses all self-control. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

You pull back slightly, breathless. “We can’t keep doing this. One minute we’re fighting, the next we’re kissing. We need to figure out what we really want.”

He nods, his forehead resting against yours. “I know. But right now, all I want is you.”

As the intensity of the moment takes over, he reaches for a hand behind him to lock the door.

👠

The next day,

Jungwon was walking down the hallway when he saw you. He immediately noticed something was off - you were walking a little slower than usual, and there was a slight limp in your steps.

He frowns, walking over to you with concern on his face. "Are you alright? You look like you're walking a little... stiffly."

You glare at him. "Your fault."

He raises an eyebrow at your accusation, his mind flashing back to the previous night’s... activities. He notes the slight flush still evident on your cheeks and the subtle limp in your gait. "Yeah, well, you didn’t seem to mind last night," he teases, tilting his head.

"Good thing no one caught us," you mutter, trying to keep your voice down.

He chuckles as he backs you into the wall behind you. "I’ll admit, you were pretty loud last night." He braces one hand against the wall beside your head, leaning in closer. "If someone had walked by, they definitely would have heard you. I might have had a hard time explaining… things."

"Let's say we were fighting," you suggest, rolling your eyes. "At least it’s a believable excuse."

He laughs, fully amused at the thought. "A fight? At 1 am? They would never believe that. Not with the sounds you were making. But for the record, I think it was worth the risk."

"Whatever. Come on," you grumble, embracing him for support as you start to walk. "I just hope I can make it through the day without collapsing."

"You know, we could always skip work and spend the day at my place. Give your legs some rest," he whispers to you.

"You think Mr. Jeon would allow us?" you ask skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "He's pretty strict about attendance, especially after big projects."

"Probably not. But I can be... persuasive when I want to be. If I tell him we need some time to discuss important project-related matters, he might just sign off on it." He squeezes your arm gently. "It’s only the responsible thing to do, after all."

"You do know that the project is finished, right? What project-related matters could we possibly discuss?" you remind him.

"I know. But we have to keep up appearances, don’t we? And who knows, we might find something... new to work on," he says with a playful grin. "And I can think of several things that need my immediate attention."

"I'm too sore, Jungwon!" you scold him, trying to keep your tone serious. "I can barely walk, let alone... do anything else."

"I bet you are. I might have gotten a little carried away last night." He pulls back slightly to look at your face, his expression softening. "We don’t have to do anything too strenuous, I promise. We can just relax, watch a movie, order some food."

"We did work really hard on that project. Maybe we do deserve a break," you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But what if Mr. Jeon finds out we’re just slacking off?"

He shrugs, a sly grin on his face. "Who cares what the CEO would allow? We’re both senior team members, and we’ve done a damn good job with the project. I’m sure we’ve earned a little break. And honestly, I’d much rather spend the day with you in my bed than stuck here in the office."

"Fine," you finally relent, unable to resist his charm. "But only because I really need a break."

A satisfied smile spreads across his face as you cave in. He reluctantly releases his hold on you. "Great. I’ll go talk to Mr. Jeon real quick, then we can get out of here."

He glances down at your legs, frowning slightly. "Can you even walk comfortably in those heels? You look like you’re about to fall over!"

"I gotta look hot, alright?" you retort, lifting your chin defiantly. "Can’t have everyone thinking I’m slacking off just because I’m sore."

He looks at you, taking in the tight pencil skirt and stiletto heels you’re wearing. He’s having a hard time disagreeing with your statement. "You look hot, alright, but you should’ve worn something more comfortable if you knew your legs would be this sore."

"I didn’t plan on being sore, genius. Just tell Mr. Jeon," you say, exasperated. "And hurry up. I don’t want to be standing here all day."

He rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. "Alright, alright. I’m going."

👠

Jungwon has his arm wrapped around your shoulders while lying on his bed as you both watch the movie. His fingers absently stroke your arm as he watches the screen.

He glances down at you, noticing how you look in his oversized t-shirt. There was something domestic and endearing about it that made him feel butterflies in his stomach.

He smiles, "You look better in my clothes than you do in your work clothes."

"You are kidding," you say, giving him a playful nudge. "Your clothes are so baggy on me. I look like I'm drowning in them."

He laughs and kisses the top of your head. "I'm serious. You should just start wearing my stuff and call it a day. It suits you better." He nuzzles his face into your hair. "And I have to admit, I like seeing you in my clothes and the way you smell like me."

You roll your eyes playfully. "You're just saying that because you like the idea of me being marked by you. Territorial much?"

He reaches over for a piece of food from the tray on the nightstand, holding it up to your lips. "Here, have some food. You must be hungry. Then maybe we can finish the movie and see if we can find something else to do."

You open your mouth, and he feeds you the food, watching as you chew, his eyes full of adoration. "Thanks. I was starving," you admit after swallowing. "This movie night idea was perfect."

Once you've swallowed, he sets the food aside and shifts on the bed. "You know, I never actually asked you out properly even though we already said 'I love you' to each other."

"I was waiting for you to say that," you reply, smiling up at him. "I mean, we've been acting like a couple, but I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to make it official."

He laughs again, but his eyes never leave your face. He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Well, I guess I’m saying it now, huh? I still can’t believe we went from hating each other to this. It’s crazy."

"I know, right?" you say with a soft laugh. "I thought you were the most insufferable person I’ve ever met. But now, I can't imagine my life without you."

"I guess what they say is true. There’s a fine line between love and hate." Then he continued. "Although, I’m starting to think it was more of a ‘lust’ rather than a ‘love’ for a while there."

"Maybe," you say thoughtfully. "But I think there was always something more. We just didn't realize it."

"Well, now it’s definitely both. I think I went from ‘despising’ you to ‘desiring’ you to ‘loving’ you in record time." He said chuckling.

"Aren’t you gonna ask me out properly?" you say bluntly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What, this isn’t formal enough? Maybe I should get on one knee and ask you properly then," he teases, pausing to look at you seriously. ‘’Alright..’’

"Will you officially be my girlfriend, even though we basically are already? Pretty please?"

"Yes, of course," you say with a grin. "But you better make it up to me with a proper date soon."

He then presses his lips against yours in a deep, passionate kiss. After a moment, he reluctantly pulls back, breaking the kiss but still keeping his face near yours. "Thank god. I was afraid you were going to say no."

"Bitch, are you serious right now?" you say, looking at him as if he was crazy. "You know I couldn't say no to you."

"No, I know you couldn’t resist me even if you tried, babe." He leans in to plant soft kisses on your cheek. "I love you. Mwah. Mwah."

"I love you too," you whisper, snuggling closer to him. "And for the record, I think this whole thing is pretty amazing. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad we were forced to work together."

"Me too," he says softly. "It's been a wild ride, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Yeah, it was clear that things did take a turn after that first kiss. It was a hectic rollercoaster of a ride, but I guess being forced to work on a project with the person you despise can turn it into either the best or worst experience ever.

But for you? It sure as hell was the best.

[fae-of-fiction]

A thirst about Kaiser locked in the video room, rewatching the same images again and again? ;)

✦ — 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✦ — 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (18+ only) ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✦ — psst, hey, hey. come closer for just a sec — *kisses your brain* this. THIS. this is brilliant 🫡🙌🏻🙏 thank you so much!!! i had waaaaaay too much fun writing this 🫣

✦ — 1k words

✦ — fem!reader, fembodied!reader, explicit sexual content, solo male masturbation, creep!kaiser, perv!kaiser, elements of non-con (hidden cameras), voyeurism (i feel like this could fall under that), overstimulation(?), obsessed!kaiser, sexual fantasies, language, allusions to shy!reader, author is not confident in her smut skills (it may not be the best), my writing :,)

note: kaiser refers to reader as meine rose/meine schöne rose, which means “my rose” and “my beautiful rose” respectively (i used a multitude of translation apps to hopefully make sure the translation is right, but as i’m not a native german speaker i can’t say for certain that it’s correct; i’m so sorry if i butchered it! 🙏)

kaiser knew he was abusing a system that he shouldn’t even have knowledge of — but he simply couldn’t control himself.

the instant ness had clued him in on that little piece of information about the camera system, kaiser’s mind shifted straight to you; cute, quiet, shy little you. and ness, bless his soul, didn’t question kaiser even once when he requested (demanded) that ness find a way to hack into the secondary cameras hidden within the personal rooms of the facility.

kaiser wasn’t sure why jinpachi ego had felt the need to install such a security system, but he was deeply thankful for it.

because there would be no other way kaiser could ever witness this beautiful sight over and over again — you laid out across your bed, legs spread and fingers working over time plunging into your sloppy little cunt.

slick squelches and soft moans echoed through the earphones and traveled straight to kaiser’s dick, which was already hard and leaking despite only having started the recording less than a minute ago.

that was just the visceral effect you had on him; you could brick him up instantly with just a single glance in his direction.

and seeing you like this — oh, the effect was catastrophic. kaiser swears his dick has never been harder before, that he’s never felt so turned on and sensitive, ceach stroke of his hand down the shaft electrifying and borderline overwhelming — and when he ran the pad of his thumb along the tip to collect the dripping pre his whole body nearly convulsed.

it was amazing, satisfying, and yet so, so torturous. because at the moment, all kaiser could do was stare at your pretty cunt swallowing your fingers and imagine how it would feel for those velvet walls to be closing around his cock instead.

and suddenly, his hand just didn’t feel good enough anymore — kaiser imagined you must have felt the same way about your fingers, given the scrunch of your eyebrows and how desperate your movements were; it just wasn’t enough. you clearly needed something longer and thicker to fill you up.

and kaiser could do that for you — oh, how he would make you feel so good. he’d slide his cock in nice and slow so could you could feel him inch for inch, so you could enjoy that satisfying stretch it’d give your tight little pussy. he’d fuck into you recklessly in the same way you’re doing with your fingers while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear just to feel your walls flutter around him.

“so good, meine schöne rose,” kaiser whispered as he tightened his fingers around his cock, eyes zeroed in on your fingers sliding into that sweet nirvana between your legs. for a moment, kaiser could almost convince himself that he was buried inside your tight little pussy and not his own hand. “keep going. that’s it.”

kaiser’s breathing was quickly laboring, his abdomen twitching and tightening with every quick stroke of his hand. your soft moans and whimpers spurred that heat within his gut, and if he closed his eyes and focused, kaiser could feel your plump lips against his ear, honeyed voice begging him to fuck harder, to fuck you completely stupid, until all you could think about was his cock —

kaiser’s eyes snapped open when his ears were graced with a particularly loud moan from the earphones, and that liquid heat in his gut ramped up to a boiling point at the sight he was greeted with.

your other hand had abandoned its stationary place on your stomach and was now rubbing fast circles against your pretty clit in time with your thrusting fingers, and your whole body was trembling from the new stimulus. kaiser had seen this enough times to know exactly what was soon to come.

“oh, sweet girl.” kaiser murmured reverently, chest fluttering and hand picking up speed around his cock. “so fuckin’ pretty like that.”

and you were — you were so fucking breathtaking. eyes slipped shut and plump lips parted to release those sweet, sultry moans; fingers sliding into the prettiest folds and rubbing against the cutest clit; that perfect body trembling and shaking.

it was a vision of pure erotic perfection that was etched permanently into kaiser’s mind; a vision that he craves to see in person while he ravages you with his cock.

“c’mon, meine rose. you’re so close.” kaiser cooed, hand jacking his cock so fast that his wrist was beginning to ache — but there was no way he was going to slow down, not when you were both so close, hanging onto the precipice of pure rupture. his gut clenched almost painfully and his balls twitched, signaling the fast approach of his climax.

“i’m gonna cum, sweet girl. mmh — fuck, ah — you’re gonna make me cum — i’m coming —”

kaiser had to bring his other hand up and clamp his teeth around it to muffle the sounds that bubbled up in his throat. all it took was three more strokes and he was exploding, warm, sticky ropes shooting all the way up to his chest. kaiser couldn’t even control the moans that slipped out, nor could he control the way his hips jerked up to fuck his cock into his tight fist as he rode out his orgasm, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

your escalating moans seemed to add even more fuel to the fire, stretching out kaiser’s orgasm to the point that his cock became almost unbearably sensitive — but he kept pumping his fist slowly, keeping his cock alive as he reached forward with a shaky hand to restart the video.

“just once more, meine schöne rose. make me cum one more time.”

i just want to say thank you once again for this brilliant thirst, and thank you to everyone who took the time to read it! it means so much to me!! <333

[feyburner]

I loved LOVED a word, a look, will be enough. I’m obsessed with the way you write jason and tim. No pressure to answer this at all, but I was curious if you have a headcanon about how the missing spleen reveal eventually goes

Jay »

Good afternoon Timothy.

« tim

uh oh

Jay »

I just had a fascinating conversation with Doc thompson

Care to hazard a guess about what?

« tim

pollen season

Jay »

No.

« tim

bird flu

Jay »

Is there a reason you havent told anyone in your life that you dont have a fucking spleen?

« tim

okay first of all

i’m not sure why doc thompson felt the need to tell you my private medical information

pretty sure they have a rule about that

Jay »

It’s not her fault.

I mentioned that you got whammied with that stupid germ bomb from Typhoid Tony or whatever the fuck his name was

« tim

vik vyral

Jay »

And she got all serious and told me I should get you into the clinic asap, and I was like no he’s fine now, it was basically a 24 hour bug, and she was like no, theres no such thing as a 24 hour bug for him, he needs to come get his blood tested yesterday

And then she clearly realized I had no fucking clue what she was talking about and clammed up. Wouldn’t say a thing. Told me to ask you myself.

Jay »

The look she gave me when I said you slept it off and went back to work. Like I should know better. like I was letting you be careless and shit bc thats just how I am or something.

« tim

“letting” me?

Jay »

yeah. Letting you. I know you know what I mean

« tim

i’m not sure i do.

Jay »

When youre with someone you take care of them.

I dont pretend to know much about this shit but I know that.

I’m not talking about handcuffing you to the radiator. Im talking about knowing whats going on with you and knowing that sometimes you let shit slide that I wouldn’t. When it comes to you

You do that for me and the others all the time. Thats how it works.

« tim

doc thompson doesn’t know you’re “with” me

Jay »

If you think everyone doesn’t know exactly what’s going on then your detective skills need work

Jay »

Also, Jesus, Tim.

« tim

ok sorry, i didn’t mean the scare quotes part

but did you pause to consider maybe there’s a reason i haven’t told everyone other than whatever shortsighted masochistic bs you’re assuming

Jay »

I dont need you to tell everyone. I’m not asking you to write a report on it.

Just like. if there’s any other major medical shit can you maybe tell me

Before you fucking die of a sinus infection or whatever bc the asshole who lives with you didn’t know your immune system has the horsepower of a bicycle

« tim

did you know you curse more when you’re fronting like you’re not worried about me

Jay »

I’m actually not fronting! in this moment!

« tim

okay

well. i am sorry

that sounded sarcastic bc of who i am as a person

but it’s not. i mean it.

Jay »

Sorry for yelling at you

« tim

i dont wanna go into it over text but i’ll tell you tonight. okay?

about what happened.

also there’s nothing else. it’s just the spleen thing

ok?

Jay »

Okay.

« tim

well and the mango allergy

well. and i’m double jointed specifically bc i have joint-hypermobility syndrome

which is why im so flexible :)

but also why i dislocate things a lot :(

um and im mildly allergic to carrots, bananas, pineapples, and most legumes, but it’s fine they just make my tongue itch

i think that’s all

Jay »

Tim can you be honest with me for a second

« tim

yeah…

Jay »

Are you inbred

« tim

NSJDN/&2&jdj?!_£_??

Jay »

Like are you that type of rich person

You can tell me. We are not going to procreate so I dont mind either way

« tim

just scared the living shit out of an intern who had never seen me laugh before. i think she thought i was choking

jesus CHRIST

i will see you at home.

Jay »

You

didn’t answer the question….