#n to be clear I still think u have the responsibility as the adult to either be aware or not enter conversations where u wont be

[bloodchapell]

RELIEVE STRESS

You go to get a tattoo and things escalate with Wakasa. 

wakasa x fem!reader

warning: smut. 

a/n: hope y'all enjoy

spoiler lowkey! : they don't fuck at the tattoo studio, i will do a continuation to this in which they do :D

“Your body is a temple. A pristine temple you must maintain clean”

Clean.

You were now an adult. Your last year of college and about to graduate. You could almost even feel the thick paper in which your degree would be printed for you to put in your wall. But even though you were an adult, your mother’s rules would still remain floating around in your head. No eating in the bedrooms and all of that ridiculous stuff was still imprinted in your brain. 

You'd always liked tattoos, as in your perception, the body was nothing more than an empty canvas waiting for it to be decorated with art, but it was not until those last months that you actually started thinking about getting one. At first your idea was a small thing in a hidden place, something not easily visible so you could be able to hide it at the spot, but as u thought more of it, you actually got mad at yourself for being scared of a big tattoo. It was your body after all. When you finally decided that this tattoo, your first one ever, would be consuming a good area off your body, you realized that you did not have a clear picture of what you wanted engraved in your skin.

“Good morning, I’m here for my appointment” You said at the counter. 

“Of course” A girl with white hair and blue eyes received you in the reception “What is your name?”

“Y/N” You said clearly, with a smile.

“Amazing, you're in time” The girl said still looking in her computer. She instructed you to wash your hands and sign the consent forms “Uhh, Waka said to cancel all of his appointments today, damn how did I manage to forget that?”

“Is there a problem?” Concerned you ask, as you had been waiting for that day a long time.

“Is just... my fault. Don't worry I'll be responsible for it” She said sighing as she picked her phone and called a number “Hey Waka”

“What?” Immediately the other person answered with fury “What you want Senju?”

“Uhm so... I forgot to cancel your 6 pm appointment and the client is here” The girl said nervously “Please just take it... I’ll make it up to you, I swear”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Almost yelling he said “No”

“Waka it’s a client, you can’t just say you don't want to work because you mad” Standing up for herself the girl said “You better get your ass up that chair and come yourself to tell her that, you lose the client, bitch”

Even though the conversation was funny, you contained your laugh, as you effectively had been waiting to get your tattoo done for a good time. You waited impatiently to see the face of the ridiculous man that decided to decline a client because he was angry. Not a complete minute went by when you both heard a door being opened violently. 

“I said I don't want to fucking work right now” He stated clearly. He looked at Senju furious but then realized you were there as well. He looked at you discretely, batting his eyelashes as he blinked slowly, analyzing your appearance with softness “What is it that you want?”

“This” Unlocking your phone and opening your photos app you approached him. Instantly your nose picked his fragrance that emanated an intriguing and dominating aura. He took your phone and looked at the picture for a second. 

“It’s fucking beautiful” He said thinking for a second “How big you want it?”

“Upper right 1/4 of my back” With hope in your eyer you told him. 

“Hmm, that'd take about 2 or 2 and a half hours. Ideally I’d like to do it in one sitting because the details are complex and small and. You good with that?” 

“Yeah, I expected it to be longer actually so that's good” Already excited you expressed.

“Wakasa Imaushi, at your service” His hand extended to your direction and gave you a firm handshake “Follow me please, miss”

“Ain't no way, Wakasa a fucking simp” You heard the girl at the counter laugh with another of the tattoo artists that came out of nowhere to see the show.

“I don't like anyone bothering me while I work so I have my own fucking office here. Isn't it impressive?” Wakasa said charmingly.

“You must be really good at what you do for them to put up with you, pretty boy” Joking with a light mood you said and he immediately looked at you with a fatal expression.

“I’m the best of the best, ever” He made sure he was spitting the words for you to mark his words. 

He opened the door and let you in. You sat in the small sofa the room had and he moved his chair close to you and sat down.

“Before we start, I need you to remove your shirt and bra. Is that good?” He said sliding across the room and searching for something “You can cover with this if you want. And if you really don't feel comfortable with it I can call Senju and she will do it” 

“I have no problem with it, thanks though” You said receiving the small blanket “Why would you think I’d chicken out?”

“This your first tattoo, princess” He said. 

“And how do you know that?” You replied back intrigued at his playful vibrato.

“Your body is pristine clean” He said and you stayed silent “And of course, before accepting or denying a work I read the information we ask for so I can know what I’m working with”

“Makes sense” You said. 

“Get yourself comfortable in the chair, I’m going to prepare the stencil” He said moving across the room with experience. His confidence at what he was doing made him hot, hot as hell. “You can see how it would look. If you would like to try another placement you tell me, ok?”

“Yes” 

Facing the opposite way of Wakasa, you sat down in the leather chair and took your shirt off. You doubted for a second before taking your bra off but finally did it after some thinking. The blanket you were holding immediately covered your chest and you laid down on your chest. 

Wakasa did not wait for coming and placing the stencil on your back, on the area you had told him before. With extreme precision he removed the white paper, leaving the blue ink in your skin. 

“Take this” He handed you a small hand mirror “There is a mirror on the ceiling, you can check it out” 

As he said that the first thing that came to your mind was a dirty thought, but you brushed it off pretty quickly, attending his instructions and looking at the stencil with the technique he had show you.

“Is it good? If you need time to think about it or you want to stand up and look in the mirror you can go ahead” He said. The way his careful words escaped his lips, being so precise with his work, made him so attractive to your eyes. 

“It is good yes” You reassured him and he left a soft gutural affirmation. 

“I’m going to start then” He sat down in the chair and got all his tools. “You are free to listen to music, watch a video or whatever. If you want to rest, stretch, go to the bathroom, whatever, you tell me. And please, stay still. Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes Wakasa” You said unconsciously with your mind wandering around situations that would never come up.

“Good” 

As soon as you felt the needle pierce through your skin you couldn't help yourself and you let a soft groan of pain that mixed immediately with your adrenaline for finally getting the tattoo you wanted so bad. “It’s ok” You heard Wakasa saying. As time went by, the pain decreased and you actually relaxed in the chair. By the time the first hour passed, you started feeling sleepy and took a nap from which you woke up 30 minutes later. 

“Mind if I take a break?” Wakasa asked sighing and stretching his arms slightly. You took some time to answer him but said yes without a doubt. He then stood up his chair and walked around a little, checked his phone and sat back down in the chair still with his phone in his hands.

<I’m just so fucking stressed rn, u don't understand> 

You were able to discretely see his phone from the position you were in. 

<I was about to murder Senju, if the client wasn't a literary fucking angel I would've snapped bro>

His contact saved as ‘Shinichiro’ replied to him with a skull emoji.

<I really need to get railed Shin, I’m about to have a heart attack man, this stress is consuming the fuck outta me>

The other person texted him something you weren’t able to see but Wakasa replied instantly without a fail.

<I have this chick totally topless in the chair you fucking bastard, how u think she finna react if I go up to her and flirt with her, stupid mf, I ain't trying to be a creep here Shin>

You had to contain a giggle growing in you at his comment. He has really respectful and professional after all.

<Out of the case bitch, yea she might be hot as fuck and I might want to fuck her but no, bro we gotta respect clients, I don't wanna end up like u, u desperate mf>

Wakasa left his phone in the table and took back the tattoo machine. 

“Are we ready to start again?” He asked and you nodded immediately “Good. You are doing very good for your first time... I mean... for your first tattoo”

Hearing him stumble his words caused you to shiver slightly. Wakasa started back again, and now that you and your hormones were fully awake you couldn't help but observe with detail his expression as he drew permanently on your skin, the furred eyebrows and concentrated sight on you, his firm hands tracing over your skin and the seriousness he held while tattooing your back was impressive, and arousing. 

“Ok, we are done here” As he put the machine down and stretched, you couldn't help but also move. He immediately stoped you with a firm but soft touch to stop you from moving “Give me a second to put the wrap around though” 

As he came back with the thin layer of transparent paper and petroleum jelly, you stayed still. He applied the vaseline in your skin and placed the bandage in your back.

“We are all set” He finished taking his black latex gloves off “Take the wrapping of in 24 hours and wash the skin with antimicrobial soap and cold water. Wash the area twice a day and dry it gently before applying vaseline again” He continued giving you instructions for the aftercare, when he finished, he gave you your clothes “Only put on the shirt, the bra is going to be annoying” 

You followed his suggestion and when you finished you sat in the chair facing him.

“Wakasa” You called.

 “Yes?” He answered immediately as he washed his hands. 

“Thanks for doing it” You said standing up and walking to him. He simply looked at you without saying anything and nodded, knowing that you were taking about him accepting doing it even though he told Senju to cancel his appointments. “Pretty privilege, I would say” He joked slightly. 

The slight nervousness growing inside of you consumed you slowly. You were sure he wanted you and you wanted him as well, but you didn't know exactly how to approach the situation. “Maybe I can help you relieve some stress” You said and went for a kiss without thinking it twice. Wakasa did not expect that at all but after assimilating what was happening he reciprocated the kiss and pulled you close to him by placing his cold hands in your waist. Your hands went to his neck instantly and held onto the stray strands of his hair that was perfectly tied in a ponytail. His lips tasted yours with delicacy as he squeezed your waist under his hands. It was a slow and passionate kiss in which you both caught each other’s lips between yours and licked softly each other. When Wakasa bit your lip you unconsciously opened your mouth and he didn't wait to stick his tongue inside and lick your tongue with lust, tilting his head the opposite way of yours and pulling you as close as he could, making the kiss deeper and deeper with each sinful lick he gave to your tongue.

“Mhm–” Wakasa mumbled in your lips before pulling away his head so he could breathe. He did not want to talk very much, you could not decipher if he was just quite or really desperate to fuck you, but either way he went back to your lips eagerly and started kissing you with a fast pace and uncontrollable desire that exhaled from his minty breath as he slowly travelled his hands from your waist to your ribs and later to your tits, which he squeezed delicately as if he had the experience to know the exact amount of pressure to apply. 

Wakasa moved you both walking slowly without leaving your tasty lips and got you sitting again in the chair. The smell of his cologne invaded your nose suddenly as he knelt partially on the chair (placing his knee in between your legs) and placed his neck in your face.

“I’d like you to give me a hickey, y/n” He stated clearly, with his seductive voice claiming for you, so following his instructions, you placed your hands at his velvety neck and got closer to his skin, licking it and then sucking on a small area that was close to his collarbone “I don't know if you understood what I asked you for, so Imma be more specific princess, I want you to mark my neck as yours”.

“You sure?” Doubtful you asked back and he nodded. 

“I’m yours tonight” Without any jittery Wakasa said and you went straight for his neck, losing control over yourself and biting and sucking on him as if the world would end. “Wanna go to my place?” He asked calmly “It’s good if not”

“Let’s go”

– 

Leaving the studio while Wakasa held your hand left some of the people in there watching you both closely, they probably watched as well because he was unapologetically hard and had the entire left side of his neck covered in marks from your mouth. He did not bother to say goodbye or anything, walking with you up to the parking space besides the studio. 

His motorcycle roared as he started the engine, having you sitting behind him, holding his waist as he accelerated through the night streets. You both arrived at the destination after a ride of 10 minutes or so. Wakasa parked his bike and you entered the building. 

The elevator was empty and Wakasa did not let the opportunity of making out with you again, cornering you in the metallic walls and kissing you vividly while holding your ass to press your body towards his, making you feel his cock in your stomach as he devoured your lips. 

When the elevator announced it was the correct floor, Wakasa took your hand and hurried across the hallway to get to his door, which he opened for you both. Once inside, he did not wait to get you to his room, he pushed you softly to the closed door and kissed you again, now taking your shirt off and leaving you half naked. 

Between kisses, you ended up sitting in his lap as he sat in the couch. “Please me princess, please” He begged holding your hips as he moved them back and forth on top of his cock “I need you so bad right now” As he continued to control the movement of your hips over him, you took his turtleneck off, for your eyes to meet his tattoos all over his body, starting from his pecs down to his arms. “You like them?” He asked panting. 

“Yes” Instantly you replied “I really like ‘em, looks divine on you” You muttered and he nodded. His hair fell of his ponytail into his shoulders suddenly as the hair tie had gone loose and you couldn't help but feeling your pussy pulsing from the sole pleasure admiring such a beautiful man gave you. 

As he started kissing you again, his hands went to yours and he released his cock from his pants in order to stroke it a few times. “Don't make me wait more princess, let me be inside you” He begged and with your body being a hot mess you took the rest of your clothes off and sat back down. He instantly felt your fluids running down your tight and could not wait to place two of his fingers inside you “So wet, did I cause that?” Shamelessly he asked as he fingered you exactly in the spot that caused you the most pleasure. After a minute or so, he took his fingers off you and put them in his mouth, tasting the flavor of your insides. 

“How good are you are riding?” He asked after another short session of kissing in which his hands wandered all around your body. 

“Just normal I would say” You answered thinking, he nodded.

“Tell me when you get tired, I want to get everything from you so I ain't stopping” He warned you “Fuck, ‘m so hard it hurts. Should we start?” Agreeing while feeling his hand squeeze one of your boobs as he licked the other one, you lifted your body from his lap and aligned his cock with your cunt and slowly sat back down feeling his length widen your soft and warm walls. “Ahhh— Y/n” He moaned closing his eyes as he felt his blood rush to his face, drowning in the feeling of your tight body wrapping around his aching cock, letting his stress abandon his body as his dick came in contact with you. You continued your way down back to his lap, feeling the tip of his dick kissing your insides. Every time you went up you felt every inch of him rub against the depths of your pussy, and every time you went down again you could feel your body pulsing around his width that burned sweetly. 

Eventually Wakasa held your waist and thrusted into you as you were going down, deepening the contact of your bodies. His eyes were glued to yours as he moaned and called for your name. As the grip on your skin tightened, Wakasa unconsciously increased the rhythm of your hips jumping on his dick, and when he realized you couldn't go faster he stood up, holding you entirely and walked to a table in his living room, where he sat you down, still holding your ass.

 “Listen to me, y/n” He said running his hand through his hair “I want you to hold on to me, I want to feel your arms around me as I fuck you. Did I make myself clear?” 

“Yes Wakasa” You whimpered squeezing his cock unconsciously from how hot his voice sounded. His expression trembled and he placed his hands on you, his left on your hips and his right rubbing your clit as he started slowly thrusting his cock inside you again. His touch on your clit was precise, his thumb moving gently but fastly formed a line of moans in your throat that you let out as he increased the pace on both his hips and his thumb on you.

"Like it?" He asked kissing you.

"Yes Wakasa" You muttered holding tight on him, following his instructions.

"You're so good baby" He moaned. "I love how your pretty pussy squeezes me, I fucking love how you call my name, how obedient you are, how beautiful, how warm–"

He continued rubbing your clit as he increased the speed and strength of his lustful thrusts into you, creating a dirty sound in the room of your bodies clapping with each other every time he fucked you.

"Yes Wakasa" You moaned in his neck, feeling your own breath go back to you, feeling every inch of his cock moving inside of you without a fail to hit every spot in your body that made it quiver "There... right there"

His heavy breathing was replaced quickly with his moans and the room was then filled with your voices calling for the other one.

"Wait" Wakasa said sighing from pleasure, a single drop of sweat ran down his face. "Would the princess allow me to fuck the shit out of her?"

"Of course" You laughed at his tone and he immediately lifted your body off the table, holding you mid air and starting thrusting into you as deep as he could. His agressive movements got you both screaming with lust, which each thrust he was hitting your cervix and pushing the mix of your fluids and his precum inside of you. "Gonna cum, close as fuck, I'm close as fuck"

Wakasa was fucking you dumb and his cock hitting every nerve inside of you made you lose the ability to speak, so you could only moan and whimper for him.

"Waka, ah, ah, yeah" You barely said, feeling your vision blurry and your mind foggy, he did not answer and only continued to thrust into you, feeling your walls tighten around his cock.

Feeling your orgasm grow in your lower stomach you could only warn him by looking in his eyes with desperation, and then you finally came. Your body creamed around Wakasa, who did not stop even with you screaming and moaning his name, only for him to finish as well when he felt your walls twitching around him.

He couldn't hold you in the air so he sat down at risk of falling in the way from the overwhelming feeling. You both stood for a moment catching your respirations while a small giggle let Wakasa’s lips.

“Would the princess like to spend the night?” He asked condescendingly while fixing his hair.

“I’d like that very much” You agreed immediately. He then picked you up like a princess and walked to his room, where he left you in his bed.

“I’ll be back with after sex dessert” Wakasa said smiling walking to the kitchen. 

[pascaloverx]

Strangers?

Part One

next part

Author's note: This fanfic is set in the creation of Jenny Han. Conrad Fisher and other characters mentioned in the future do not belong to me. I hope you like this fanfic, depending on how it goes, I'll decide if this fic will have more parts or just this one. This fanfic is recommended for all audiences, there will be no adult content in it, only possible inappropriate language and alcohol consumption.

A trip to Cousins Beach, they told you it's good to clear your mind. What a beautiful lie that was. I'm stuck at a convenience store for two minutes, waiting for a guy to move his car so I can get home. He doesn't seem bothered by blocking me, though. It must be the summer affecting his head, maybe the heat or maybe he just has a hobby of standing behind a car that could run over him.

"You're too young to be thinking about leaving this world, you know?" You say to the boy in front of you. His brown hair is somewhat long, falling into his eyes that you can't quite tell if they're blue or green, but you can identify that they are teary.

"Is there an ideal age to think about it?" he responds, looking out the car window at you. You wonder if it would have been better to endure a few more minutes to reach your destination, but then you remember you were in a hurry and needed a restroom. Plus, you had to do some shopping, or else you would go hungry and thirsty.

"My mom used to say that if you're not old enough to legally drink in this country, you don't have important enough problems to sacrifice your life. Seems kind of dumb saying that now..." You smile as you think your mother's logic doesn't make any sense.

"How do you know I can't drink legally?" He says as he stares at you.

"You're standing in front of a store that literally sells alcoholic beverages, yet you don't have any with you." You watch as you stand still talking to the driver who stops you from leaving.

"Maybe I'm waiting for someone here, you wouldn't know." He says with such presumption that you wonder if he didn't notice you arrived there long before him.

"Kid, I've been here for almost thirty minutes waiting for your car to move so I can leave. Either you're waiting for a ghost or you definitely aren't old enough to drink. Do you want to keep arguing, or are you going to ask me to get you a drink so we can finally go our separate ways?"

"Would you do that for a total stranger?" He almost seems hopeful, in a melancholic way.

"Not at all, but if you asked me, we'd know the answer and you'd move the car behind me." It even seems like you are going to take responsibility for what will happen to him if he drinks in the state he is in.

"You treat me as if I were a baby, but you don't seem much older than me." He's right, you can't be much older than him.

"Guess I'm old enough to have a beer without a fake ID. So, what's it gonna be? Are you gonna let me through?"

"Well, since you asked so politely..." Your ironic tone is quite amusing. He finally moves his car from behind mine. I'm about to get into my car when I feel like I should be a bit nicer to this boy.

You make a U-turn, and he's standing by his car, looking like he's contemplating his next move. You wave at him.

"What's your name?" you ask as you approach his car window. You can't help but think you must be losing your mind.

"Conrad Fisher, and yours?" He seems suspicious of your curiosity. You can only laugh, realizing you'd find it odd too if someone was trying to get rid of you one moment and asking for your name the next.

"My name is Y/N. Listen... you seem to be in a mess, and I'm equally in a mess. How about having some company for the rest of the day, and tomorrow we can pretend this never happened?" You're surprised at how simple it sounds, even though it feels strange. Your mom would scold you so much for suggesting this to a stranger.

"Does your proposal involve drinks?" Conrad asks, pushing his hair back. You look at him smiling as he asks, he must really be in need of some company.

"It can involve drinks if you promise to let me drive. I don't want to be responsible for your demise." You say, looking at him seriously while he nods in agreement.

He takes the car keys and fiddles with something inside his car. I guess you both silently decided that you'll leave in your car. While he does that, you grab the beers and ice cream.

You get into the car carrying the items you just bought, and Conrad is already sitting in the driver's seat.

"Who said you're driving my car?" You say as you place the purchases on the back seat.

"I think it's only fair not to burden you. If I'll be drinking while you stay sober, the least I can do is drive for a bit while you rest. Plus, I gave up my car, so..." Conrad explains.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're lucky to be cute? It's the only reason I'm not kicking you out of here and leaving." You remark, half-jokingly, trying to lighten the tension.

"If that's your way of trying to see if I'll get offended, know that you just complimented me. Keep trying, old lady." He says, trying to be funny. It seems like he's already feeling better.

"Just so you know, I'm only Y/A, so..." He smiles again. You slowly begin to notice that maybe it was a good idea to keep the frowning young man company.

"I knew you weren't that much older than me. You almost fooled me." He says as you roll your eyes. You can't believe you fell for his trick.

"Alright, funny guy, buckle up and let's go before I push you out of the car." He fastens his seatbelt, and soon you both head towards the beach. You hope that at least for today, all your problems will disappear while you spend time with a strangely pleasant stranger.

[hatgame]

UMUMUM *shakes sputters shakes sputters*

HI IM THAT ANON THAT REQUESTED U DRAW MOONJUMPER THAT ONE TIME *i still cry in happiness abt that everyday btw thank you!!!*

BUT UHH...CANN U TELL ME MORE ABT UR THOUGHTS ON SWEETENED DEAL? (Snatcher x Cooking Cat) I THINK ITS REALLY CUTE OKAY BYE THANK YOU! *peddles away on my Dora big wheel bike*

oh hello :) im glad you liked that drawing! & sure ^_^ glad you like it too

i commonly see it interpreted as snatcher n cc acting as hats parents and while that's sweet its not how i see it at all. i like them a lot more as her adult friends who take care of her every now and then but ultimately leave and trust her to handle her stuff, not taking that much responsibility. im not sure what thatd entail but older sibling snatcher (to hat) is kind of fun i guess. EMPRESS IS BOWS AUNT FOREVER THOUGH this im hellbent on.

ok i think i wanna talk about how ccs relationship w hat n snatcher developed. i always thought of cc as someone hat is the most verbal with, relying everything that's happened to her to him. while enthralled, proud and concerned, i dont think ccs that protective of her, hes shown to be much less responsible than people usually write her as tbh. she trusts hats capabilities n skills but still definitely recognizes that she is a child in need of support, and shes certainly warm and affectionate with her, but at the same time its not intruding or obligate, like a parents affection.

i think cc would be somewhat intrigued by what's up w snatcher because their behavior is so puzzling, probably especially so from hats retellings. once snatcher becomes a regular on hats ship (not his territory=cant assert hinself as much as he does in forest), where they probably meet, i dont think shed be intimidated at all, because i dont honestly think hed try to create that impression (it certainly didn't in the cut cafe scene. like, youd expect them to force someone to pay for them, but they're just kinda docile. they cant even get the people around them to answer their question lol)

i think snatchers like immediately completely pacified by ccs presence. i dont think theyd speak at all either. its lije those silent films where you have to rely on expressions and body language to tell what means what. its a little funny abd disarming because its clear they DO want to get something across, and thats a friendly gesture. it signals engagement abd cintact being established. snatcher would probably struggle with non scripted speech so this sort of communication would probably feel the least threatening. also would add to their already strange and interesting image in ccs mind

while idk how likely snatchers would be to actually do that ive been imagining him curling up in the pillows and napping only to wake up to cc sleeping either on top of or near them, since cuddle piles are probably common among cats + ccs impulsive. they probably would straight up forget to react. maybe they wake up to cc kneading them, make eye contact. one of them remembers cat social cues and slow blinks. other one slow blinks back. snatcher lies back down allowing itself to be kneaded. cc lies down on it. it changes position to be closer to it. not a single word said the whole time. its never brought up again but not forgotten.

uhh if they do eventually begin dating and hats there to witness it she probably wouldnt care much. bow would go awwwww Aawww though. mu is disappointed in ccs taste but probably warms up to snatcher eventually since they have a lot in common + snatcher mu friendship real and important to me

Ok this is not all but ill stop now. hope you enjoyed :) thank you for the ask. i really really loved dora the explorer as a kid

[laurieellingham]

[billy crudup - 52 - he/him] Introducing LAURIE MORGANTHAL. Word on the street is they are an EDITOR & PUBLISHER & CEO, having been around for THIRTY-FOUR YEARS. Despite an otherwise clear record, sometimes they are known to engage with THE BROTHERHOOD's affairs. Though they are A WORKAHOLIC and RESERVED, they can also be CHARMING and ECCENTRIC. In the chaos of New York City, they're sure to fit right in.

[ sky - 23 - she/her - gmt - no triggers ]

tw: abuse, alcoholism ↴

✧･ﾟ— B A S I C S

— NAME: Florian Henry Morganthal

— NICKNAME/S: Laurie (preferred name)

— D.O.B.: 24th August 1971 (age 52)

— GENDER, PRONOUNS, SEXUALITY: Cis male, he/him, bicurious

— HOMETOWN: Daytona Beach, Florida, USA

— AFFILIATION: Gang - The Brotherhood

— JOB POSITION: Editor & Publisher ; CEO of Empire State Books

— EDUCATION: Bachelors and Masters in English Literature from NYU

✧･ﾟ— P E R S O N A L I T Y

— MBTI: INTP – the logician

— POSITIVE TRAITS: Eccentric, charming, creative, patient, observant

— NEGATIVE TRAITS: Meticulous, reserved, calculated, ambitious, a workaholic

✧･ﾟ— F A M I L Y

— MOTHER: Nancy Alexandra Morganthal (née Harrison)

— FATHER: Mitchell Robert Morganthal

— EX-WIFE: Emily ‘Emmy’ Isabelle McGregor (formerly Morganthal)

✧･ﾟ— A P P E A R A N C E

— FACECLAIM: Billy Crudup

— EYE COLOUR: Brown

— HAIR COLOUR: Black with flecks of grey at the temples

— BUILD: Average

— HEIGHT: 5’ 10”

— SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: A 7cm vertical scar on his left forearm from a tree climbing accident he had as a child

— BODY MODIFICATIONS: N/A

— CLOTHING:

✧･ﾟ— F A V O U R I T E S

— FOOD: Apples (and apple related desserts)

— DRINK: Scotch whisky

— BOOK: The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle

— FILM: Schindler’s List (1993)

— TV SHOW: Justified (2010-2015)

— SEASON: Autumn

— COLOUR: Blue

✧･ﾟ— B I O G R A P H Y

— Laurie was born at 5:55pm on 24th August 1971 in Daytona Beach, FL, to Mitchell and Nancy Morganthal. He is their only child.

— As a young boy, Laurie spent many a day at the beach. He mainly went with his friends under the supervision of their parents and spent hours digging trenches in the sand and snorkelling in the sea. He always finds the beach relaxing and, as an adult, wishes he would go more often.

— Laurie grew up wanting to be a pilot like this father. For Halloween he would dress up as a captain and would get his father’s name tag to pin to the jacket. Despite idolising his father, Mitch was away for work for a lot of the time and Laurie’s mother grew paranoid. She began to think he was purposely staying away and having affairs. He always seemed to be making excuses and disappointed both Nancy and Laurie. He missed birthdays and anniversaries and didn’t seem to care very much. Laurie always felt conflicted: Mitch was his father but he was an absent father and figuring out how to feel about the situation was more confusing than anything else.

— Nancy would take out her anger and frustration about Mitch on Laurie. He endured shouting, screaming, and sobbing, and very rarely suffered physical abuse, but when he did he would hide under his bed sheets or in his wardrobe. He would often sneak around the house just so his mother didn’t see him and accidentally trigger a response in her. He never had any lasting physical scars, but the emotional ones were there for life.

— It was during this period of turmoil when Laurie found an escape in books. Thanks to his teacher at school, he was encouraged to read more and instead of spending time with other children he was tucked away in a corner somewhere with a book. He quickly went from falling behind in class to being the student with the highest grades in reading and writing.

— He was bullied for being a ‘nerd’ amongst other things and, against his nature, Laurie punched an older boy in the nose when he stole Laurie’s favourite book from him. Nobody physically messed with him again, but he was still called names and teased until he was 12.

— As he got older, Laurie’s relationship with his mother began to fail. She was drinking a lot, lost her job at a law firm, and was between shifts at local beachside restaurants and bars. At night, Laurie had to put himself to bed when his mother went out to work and had to cook his own meals (eventually being helped by a neighbour who took pity on both him and Nancy and volunteered to assist them).

— Nancy had every right to be paranoid, however, because Mitch was having affairs. She threw his stuff out for him to collect and changed the locks on the doors. He tried to apologise and make up for his so-called mistakes, but Nancy put her foot down. She stopped Mitch from seeing Laurie and kicked him out of their lives for good.

— When he was 9, Laurie’s parents divorced. Despite what she had said about Mitch in anger and hatred and in gratitude for getting rid of him, Nancy was always an emotional wreck. She often cried when she thought Laurie was asleep and would stay in bed most days. Laurie himself, when he wasn’t at school, took care of his mother in the best way he could as neither of them had any other family.

— Laurie didn’t see his father again until his 16th birthday. Mitch showed up to the house uninvited, but because Laurie wanted him there Nancy couldn’t object. Mitch’s gift to his son was the promise of a college education; he had set aside money to be used in another two years for Laurie to go to whatever university he wanted. They both knew by then that Laurie was no longer pursuing his childhood dream of being a pilot and Laurie told his father about his passion for literature. Mitch was supportive and was thrilled that Laurie wanted to go to NYU. Their relationship never fully healed from the strain it took when Laurie was a child, but the two were civil and Mitch never saw Nancy unless absolutely necessary.

— Laurie found popularity at NYU when he started his English Literature degree. He lived in halls of residence and gained many friends from across all different courses, but mainly in English courses. After promising himself not to drink after what happened with his mother, he was peer pressured into partying and consuming alcohol. He never became a heavy drinker, but sometimes found it difficult to stop drinking once he started, but this was usually only the case when he was particularly stressed or angry. He also went out with his first girlfriend during his first year.

— Following his graduation and after struggling to find a job for months (after taking shifts at a diner to earn money) Laurie landed an opportunity at a small publishing house in the city. He started from the bottom, essentially doing the mundane tasks before being being given a chance to do ‘real’ work. The senior members at this company trained him and taught him all the tricks of the trade and set him up for life. Today, that particular company no longer exists as it went bankrupt, but Laurie himself employs several of his old colleagues in his own successful company out of gratitude.

— Laurie lived with an old roommate at the time, which made it slightly easier to pay rent, and through that friend at a Christmas party he met his eventual wife, Emmy, who was starting out in her career as a cardiologist. They were mad for each other; they dated for two years and were engaged for a little over a year before getting married and taking their honeymoon in Italy.

— Emmy wanted a children and also to move closer to her parents in Austin, TX, but Laurie’s mind was fixated on his work. He was rarely out of the office and even when he was he was cooped up in his study at home. Their relationship broke quickly; Laurie and Emmy were always bickering and began to resent each other. Not two years into their marriage, they were divorced and Emmy returned to Texas. It wasn’t until months later that Laurie felt regret for what happened: he had a beautiful, talented, wonderful wife and he let that go without even realising how much of a mistake he made. But in true Laurie fashion, he distracted himself through his work and having flings with other women.

— Between the ages of 27 and 43, Laurie worked at several different publishers in the city and worked with many prestigious clients. He even did some work for a publishing company in London very briefly. He’d been considering setting up his own company for several years and now that he had made a name for himself he felt capable and confident enough to do. Thus began Empire State Publications: named after Laurie’s self-proclaimed home and set up in a Manhattan office building. It specialises in novels, but also publishes comics, magazines, and online works.

— He is the editor and publisher of Val Dupont’s @yarn-spinning hit books from the ‘Margot Sees Magic’ series. Laurie is trusted by Val to ensure their creative vision gets across in their books and that all mistakes made during the drafting process using Val’s speech-to-text technology are corrected. The two formed both a professional and personal relationship.

— Through Val, Laurie was roped into the dealings of the Brotherhood. He believed that his skills and personality would fit in and could be put to further use and found himself in communications, using his connections in various social circles and industries to pass along messages and intelligence.

— Laurie also never sees either of his parents anymore. He cut himself off from his mother after his divorce because of her continued toxicity and doesn’t know where his dad is. He’s glad that neither of them are around and that he can focus on his own life without having to worry about anyone else. It might seem selfish, but after years of putting up with pain and putting his mother first he can finally be free.

✧･ﾟ— W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S

— EDITORIAL ASSISTANT: This muse would work closely with Laurie, organising his meetings and doing other admin jobs as well as supporting other editors. The two of them would more than likely end up as friends outside of the office too, but that can be UTP!

— AUTHORS & EDITORS: If your muse is a new author or a bestselling author, then they might have their book published and edited by Empire State Publications, or maybe by Laurie himself! Or perhaps they’re an editor who has been around since the company’s founding or are just starting their new job at ESP. Either way your muse would know Laurie in a professional setting.

— FLINGS: Laurie likes to frequent bars, usually higher-end ones, on his quieter evenings and will flirt if he’s in the mood. He’s incredibly charming and skilful in the art of persuasion, which can lead to sharing drinks and perhaps even an invitation back to his apartment. If your muse chooses to stay, then they can expect an interesting night ahead.

— AN OLD FLAME: if you, like me, would like explore Laurie’s softer side and explore his younger years, then your muse could be his very first girlfriend! They met at NYU and were mad for each other and fate had a cruel hand in splitting them up- the rest is up to you!

[nonclassyparty]

from an objective point of view i do think san is a bad person. or at least was! having an explication for it doesn’t make up for the fact that he knowingly hurts people and manipulates them for his benefit. also, at what point do we stop calling it self sabotage when it includes hurting everyone around you in the process?

sure he has been clear with from the beginning that he doesn’t date. but he knew she loved him and chose to keep on hurting her and stringing her along for an entire year just so he could keep his “favorite girl” by his side, which she only was because she was the rich and unreachable pretty girl and he managed to have her wrapped around his finger. he watched her go through hell and he didn’t care, let her be insulted by yeosang on a daily basis and never once stood up for her while she took it and stayed quiet because she loved him so much. he called it friends with benefits but never took an interest in her on a personal level and basically treated her like a sextoy. obviously yn should’ve walked away at some point but i think san is also to blame. telling girls “i don’t date” at the beginning of the arrangement doesn’t opt you out of treating the girls you sleep with as human beings with feelings who deserve respect.

and then going back to her after he broke up with that girl because he knew she would just cave in and take him back, then acting like “well maybe i shouldn’t have c come to your house but you shouldn’t have let me in”.. like knew she would let you in and fuck you because you know she loved you and couldn’t resist

and what he did to yeosang was just so fucking sad. how can you call someone your best friend and then go and knowingly use their feelings so you can manipulate them and get what you want? i’m glad yeosang finally put his foot down and stopped talking to him. i think he told san that he wasn’t worth the effort it takes to love him? and as cruel as it may sound he was right… san needs to go to therapy and grow up. i understand he has daddy issues and that your trauma isn’t your fault but the way you treat people is still your responsibility

i really hope he’s coming back as a better person after these two years!

hhmmmmmmmmmmm those are all great points but they're from y/n's point of view and not an objective one 😭

he fucked up with yeosang (besides betraying y/n's trust and telling her secrets to his friends, thats his other fuck up imo). it was a horrible thing to do, there's no further explanations or defenses there. him betraying her trust in the end and using ys' feelings to his advantage at times are the worst things he did in this story but is he a bad person with no redemption possible for it? would that mean that people aren't allowed to fuck up? 😭

"sure he has been clear with from the beginning that he doesn’t date. but he knew she loved him and chose to keep on hurting her and stringing her along-" lets stop right thereee 😭 "he knew she loved him" and what? if yunho told y/n he had feelings for her while she considered sleeping with him just a fun silly little thing would that make her responsible for his feelings? no, bc they're both consenting adults who know what they agreed on. it sounds harsh but objectively, thats just the way things are. "choose to keep hurting her" when? if anything he was keeping his relationship with boyoung a secret from her bc he was trying to not hurt her and just let her down gently by ghosting her😭 even tho yn deserved to know the truth, he thought he was doing her a favor bc knowing u got dropped bc he actually decided to commit himself to another girl despite saying he doesnt date would hurt a lot more. "stringing her long" when? when did he ever genuinely give her hope that their relationship could grow into something more? "let her be insulted by yeosang" hmm yea that is shitty, even if he doesnt care about her it would've been nice to defend her bc hes the one that brought her to their table in the first place. "never took an interest in her on a personal level" bc friends with benefits is always just tiptoeing around what the relationship is actually about, which is SEX. they agree on being actual friends much later and after that they actually DO begin to learn about each other and with that his demeanor towards her begins to change.

when he's standing at her front door she literally says something like "if i told him to leave i know he would" because their relationship was never san trying to keep her tied to him but it was her latching onto HIM. a nice guy would've probably said "ok u have feelings for me which i dont reciprocate, lets end this bc u are hurting yourself" but san said it himself, he never deemed himself an honorable guy so in his head its like "even after telling u i wont ever love u and that u should've slammed the door in my face bc getting back together is a bad idea, you STILL want to fuck me?" that was on y/n. he's not the bad guy but just a guy thinking with his dick 😭 can he really be blamed for playing off of her decisions? it was always on y/n to decide when to finally let go of him and that was not something he could do for her because at one point she was so far up her delusions that even if he said "hey lets break this off" without boyoung in the picture, she still wouldn't have given up.

san will always be a bad guy if we look at him through y/n's eyes but if we detach ourselves from her feelings a little bit.......😭

[a-kaash-me-outside]

I’m reading these asks and it’s super interesting to me to see the different perspectives and the insight you’re giving to the characters! (Also I sent you that long ass ask so thank you so much for taking the time to reply and explain things!!) I personally didn’t even catch on to the whole reader’s unfairly keeping Atsumu at arms length thing and idk if I didn’t read thoroughly or I’m just dim LOL I always interpreted it as like they both like each other and want to be bf/gf eventually but both were taking things slow for various reasons which felt super normal. also 3 weeks is such a short amount of time like I feel like you can be really into a person but still want to take more time to gauge the situation u know!! I didn’t really see reader as like “leading him on” or being a tease or anything like that (ngl i hate the word tease shhfjdgdskks 😂 especially if a man uses it I wanna barf like no stop I’m literally just trying to be a nice person), more so they were just being flirty and having friendly-maybe-more-than-friendly banter kinda?

It’ll be really interesting to see some of Atsumu’s pov because I wonder if he had different, more “serious” expectations for y/n from the get go. And if he did why he didn’t communicate it earlier on? I don’t think y/n is doing anything wrong being cautious around him, especially cause she’s used to seeing him sleep around a lot (not that there’s anything remotely wrong with that if there’s 2 consenting adults) but it still is what it is and she’s going off information that she’s gathered in over the course of not even a full semester and its honestly pretty smart for her to wait a bit longer and be like.. is he actually serious about this? I don’t fault her for at all that!!

As for the Maki kiss/going back to the dorm thing…… BIG SIDE EYE FOR Y/N 👀 that was very questionable on her part!! I understand caring for Maki and entertaining the one last kiss thing because it was clear she didn’t instigate that but then the part where she wanted to continue?! Was that a moment of weakness and just her remembering the old times with Maki or what?! I really wonder what was going on in her mind during that moment. Im glad he shut it down gently! Honestly the more I think about it the better Maki looks ASHFBDH (I need to stop this here and reel myself in cause this is an Atsumu fic) (but also just putting it out there….. if .. there was a maki alt ending…… I would absolutely devour that for breakfast lunch and dinner)

oh my gosh yes okay. this means the world to me because like i write these responses and replies and i don't ever really assume anyone will read or care about them does that make sense? and i try to communicate all of these thoughts in my fics but i forget sometimes that i'm in my head and you all are not! so the things and details i weave in there can definitely get lost.

omg another read more shhhhhh.

but i think that's why for me when i got all of this stuff where people were like HEY ATSUMU is a bitch and like yea no that's so fair he really is in this chapter but don't see or point out how messy the relationship is and how yn actually doesn't really hold it against him for like sleeping with people while they were talking and stuff because she realizes that they aren't exclusive, not just as a technicality but because yeah sure she has feelings for him but she keeps reminding herself that she doesn't want more than that, otherwise when they spent the night together during the whole movie thing, they wouldve spent the night together.

i think especially at the end of ch4 with the whole movie date and her like wanting atsumu to come into her dorm, but failing to communicate it or do anything to reciprocate what his efforts to cross this barrier of just flirting friends, is a really important insight into the relationship? like if she would've communicated that she wanted him to cross this barrier, he would've, but he doesn't, because she doesn't, and he doesn't want to like,,, push something too far? i explain it better in the next chapter? his thoughts about it and stuff and a tiny insight into his POV.

AND ALSO even just in the first time they meet. he evidently wants to have sex with her and she shuts it down really fast. AND after spring break, the first time that she hears him having sex with someone else after they've flirted and become somewhat friends, it's devastating to her? but it's all a result of him trying to feel out if she actually wants it or not. ANYWAYS yea just a lot of little things? that are sometimes hard to pick up on completely because of the lack of atsumu's POV BUT i think that makes it ?? hurt more and feel more serious? because !!! ?!?!? you're only seeing these little glimpses of him hurt and then the way that he tries to cope with it rather than really understand why he's doing it and how he's thinking. and as a READER i want you to like, feel torn up abt that shit? and be confused because like,,, you have to decipher and feel the stuff as it comes based on what he gives you not what's objectively true. does that MAKE SENSE?

oh yea no and i will be dropping the maki alternative ending don't you worry LMAO. don't.. don't you worry ok. <3 <3

[cruelsister-moved]

DON'T RB

thinking on my own experiences i feel like the detail lost between "communicating with anyone who isn't within 6 months of your age should be a crime" and "ummmm grown adults convincing 13 year olds they're asexual and involving them in debates about whether fictional c//p is ok is just like sex ed actually" is that on the internet it's much easier to either not be aware or not fully comprehend when someone is at a very different life stage to u..

like i was a 13 year old talking to adults and they were just like me and we talked like I talked with my school friends, i didnt have that same separation and awareness that i did have with the adults in my real life & like I dont really move in these spaces anymore or talk to ppl under 18 online bc of this exact discomfort but I can imagine like w the buffer of shared fandom stuff (and the fact a lot of adults in these spaces are like. kind of socially awkward and like if someone's into all kids shows and constantly online in like very kid heavy spaces their online presence will probably seem younger than they r) its easy to get caught up and forget you're talking to someone much younger/older

LIKE yes there are situations in which adults educate kids about sex but they are very public and rigid and there is a separation between the child and the adult where both parties are aware of their very different positions. also yes there are situations in while a child or young person has like an older mentor they look up to but again, that's a relationship in which the older person is responsible for maintaining boundaries in and also which are different from if they were two friends of a similar age & im just not convinced that this separation is clear online...

like are u really the cool older aunt who like teaches them how to knit or are u actually encouraging them to broach adult topics and being more familiar with them than u would be with a 14 year old irl...like if ur venting to a teen abt ur hard day at the office or whatever that is literally still a weird burden to put on a child honestly -_- um okay yeah that's my thoughts like tldr the internet makes it less obvious (and if they r someone w genuinely bad intentions it also allows them to shield themselves frm being confronted w the fact) that someone is much younger/older than you and allows for major erosion of boundaries in a way that just doesn't happen in the same way when an adult and a younger person interact irl >_<

DONT RB

[comfortbucky]

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”

[bonknigirlinthehood]

What he needs to understand

About: Zhongli was about to go to work when you suddenly throw a tantrum at him, forcing him to stay.

Pairings: Dad!Zhongli x GN!Child!reader

Tags/Warnings: Family Dynamics, father-child dynamics, gender neutral reader, Fluff.

A/N: Another Zhongli and his child fluff. Idk how tf i write this in between his smut fic, and somehow i finished this at 4 am in the morning.

Zhongli had fostered many children under his care throughout his years of living, growing them into an adult that will benefit Liyue. And so, he really was thought it will no different from raising you, his biological child, and yet it turns out to be way more, and more difficult, to raise his own child than foster children as he did back then.

It was a fine morning in Liyue Harbor. Zhongli, a Consultant from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, already prepared to go to work. On the dining table there's food ready to eat, but not for him, It's for his child who apparently just wake up when he was about to leave. You opened the door to the dining room, still sleepy, only to find your father already done wearing his shoes.

"Good morning, dear. Breakfast is ready, you should eat first, Ms.Lianyi will come shortly after" He notices your presence and smiles warmly, but there seems to be something with you because he also noticed your sour expression.

"My dear, is there something wrong?, Are you sick?" He asks worriedly, he immediately took off his shoes again to approach you.

"Why didn't you wake me up before you had breakfast, daddy?" You pout at him, your little dragon tail swinging behind you with upset. "You always like this, I want to have breakfast with you too!"

"I thought you still wanted to sleep?, You seem tired so i thought you need more rest" Zhongli wipes your face and stroke your messy hair, He can see that you are pretty upset, but he cannot understand why, considering usually you have no problem with him letting you sleep more. In fact, he thought all children like to sleep more in the morning, so he is a bit confused on why you are upset.

Zhongli was about to ask you when you suddenly hoofed onto him and hug him tight.

"Don't go to work daddy" 

He is even more confused upon hearing it. Why you act like this all of a sudden?, He doesn't understand.

"Dear, why are you suddenly like this?, You know I have to go to work today. I can't stay, besides, your caretaker is about to arrive in few minutes, you should wash and prepare to study" 

"I don't want to study!, I don't want to be with Miss Lianyi today!, I want to be with you today!" Suddenly, you start throwing tantrum and whining at him, making him frown in disapproval. 

"Y/n, you shouldn't act like this, daddy doesn't like it if you keep throwing tantrum"

Honestly, you almost stop when he said that, but you decided you don't want to stop.

"No!, I don't want you to go to work!, I don't want I don't want I don't want!" You start thrashing on his chest, hitting him with your little fist, much to his dislike.

"Y/n, if you don't stop I will be mad. I was already late, I can't have you throwing tantrum this early in the morning-" Zhongli stops, realizing his harsh tone. He cursed himself mentally and continue talking with lower voice, "..tell me what's wrong, my child"

You stop thrashing, burying your face in his chest, sobbing. 

"...don't go daddy..." 

Your father sigh, he really doesn't understand what is happening with you today. Usually you are such a good and obedient kid, eating breakfast with your caretaker and either studying or playing for the rest of the day. Is this matter related to him somehow?, Did he do something wrong yesterday to cause you so much upset?.

He was about to ask you another question about it when a knock can be heard from the front door. Realizing who is it, Zhongli immediately picks you up and opens the door. Your Caretaker is here and her greeting smile suddenly turns into worry when she sees you clinging to Zhongli and he hasn’t gone to work yet.

“Did something happen, Mr. Zhongli? Is little bao sick?” she asks worriedly. Zhongli shakes his head, he then invites her to come inside and explain what had happened.

“I...So little baobao won’t let you go to work, and has been clinging to you this whole time?” 

Zhongli nodded, despite you still clinging tightly to his neck, his hand also didn't stop supporting your body so you won’t fall.

“That’s right...and I honestly have no idea what wrong I did to her to make her this upset...Do you perhaps have any idea, Miss Lianyi?” He asks, He looks a bit sad and confused mixed, but his strong facade almost made it impossible to notice.

“I...I probably have an idea why little Y/n acting like this” she said, not so sure. But Zhongli immediately snaps his head to face her with a curious expression. "May I hear it, Miss Lianyi?, I think as her caretaker, you may know things I, her father don't" there's a bit of glimmer in Zhongli's eyes, eager to know. 

"U-uh...well, Mr. Zhongli, for the times I've been taking care of little bao, I've noticed sometimes, they will always waiting near the window…,waiting for you"

"Waiting for me?" Zhongli raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, I think they were feeling pretty lonely because you rarely at home. You see, you always go to work very early in the morning and go home pretty late at night, causing you two to barely have any conversation. And I think it's pretty normal behavior for children to want their parents to spend more time with them. Little bao must be missed you so much" 

Lianyi was done answering, while Zhongli was still trying to digest the newfound information. Throughout his life, every child he had fostered acted very differently, but neither of them ever had such feelings for him. They are always such obedient kids, always eager to learn and be useful for the world. What was the difference?Is it because you are his biological child?So the bond between you two is different?Zhongli needs to understand this or else he won't be able to understand you more. And as a father, it is his responsibility to be able to take care and understand his own child like the back of his hand.

"...Thank you for the information, Ms. Lianyi, I didn't know Y/n was feeling like that this entire time. I should be more cautious about it." He sighs and looks back at you, who are now sleeping again on his shoulder, probably too tired after all the crying. He puts you back to your bed, and after having a brief talk with Lianyi, your caretaker goes back home, leaving you and Zhongli alone. Your father writes some letter for Hu Tao, notifying her he wouldn't be able to go to work that day and asking her to reschedule all of his appointments. 

It's already noon when you finally wake up, and the first thing that goes into your head is if you are alone again. You jump out of the bed and run to the living room, but your father is nowhere to be seen. You let out a sulky pout and grumble, but then the door to Zhongli's room opens and the man steps out. He is still using his usual attire, just without the coat. Upon seeing him, you feel so happy because he is finally at home with you, but when you just about to leap into him you immediately feel embarrassed and awkward, knowing he was here because you threw a tantrum earlier that day, causing him to be unable to go to work and being forced to stay at home with you.

When he noticed you didn't come to him and just stay still, he approached you with a worried expression, asking what was wrong.

"My dear…,is there something wrong?Are you still mad at me?Do you want to eat something?" 

You fidget your fingers behind your back, your tail hidden between the legs. You didn't dare to look at him, still feeling embarrassed and all despite knowing how soft and kind your father was towards you. And after a few minutes you finally gaining courage to talk to him.

"Daddy..?” you whisper slowly.

“Yes, dear?” 

“I-i’m sorry...i didn’t mean to be a bad kid today...i just..i just…” You cannot continue your words, somehow feel too embarrassed to say it. But Zhongli, being as sharp as he is, quickly catch what you meant and smiles softly. 

“It’s alright, i understand” He caresses your head, his ungloved hand feels warm and soft to the touch. “I’m sorry, I should understand your needs more. I’ll try to make more time to spend with you together in the future”.

You can feel your cheek feel warmer, mix of embarrassment and happiness. Your plump cheeks are now as red as peach fruit. Zhongli pulls you into a hug, feeling the warmth of your body, and the comfortable feeling of the part of his soul being so close to him, heart to heart. He now understands why his late wife was so nervous and scared to leave their only child in his hand despite knowing how old and cultivated he is. She was scared this kind of thing will happen someday, because raising his foster children in fact, are different from raising his own blood and flesh. You are just almost as stubborn as him and she is probably afraid the two of you won’t get along nicely. But as always, Zhongli finds his ways to solve problems.

“Let’s eat dinner at Wanmin Restaurant tonight” He says, and you smile wide, your tail wiggling happily. “Yes, papa!” you giggles, your father can’t help but feel ticklish in the heart at how sweet your smile is. Right, he swore to protect that smile ever since you were a baby.

“But you need a bath first” He clears his throat, and without waiting for your reactions he just scoops you out from the floor and brings you to the bathroom. You whine and just resigned to the situation as Zhongli scrubs your body (especially your tail) to wash you clean. He always told you that young dragons need to scrub their body a lot because they are constantly renewing their skin to make it thicker and stronger, so you need to take a bath everyday and scrub your whole body to clean out the older skin so it won’t pile up. And Zhongli always likes it whenever he is just done bathing you. Your skin looks brighter and smoother, and your tail looks shinier, much to his liking. 

Not to mention how proud he is whenever he gets the chance to show you off to the people of Liyue. They always praise you at how cute and how much you resemble your father, but whenever someone tries to pinch your cheeks he is always quick to hold you back close to him. He sure doesn’t want to let anyone touch his one and only child.

With every passing days, Zhongli always learns something new about you. And even though your little self likes the attention your father gives you, in the future you probably will start hating it, and Zhongli will need another solution to solve your adolescence and puberty. But surely, surely he always enjoys seeing you growing up under his care.

[violettelueur]

GOJO SATORU || SWEET TASTE OF CHOCOLATE

| featuring : gojo satoru ft. itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 2243

| published : 19 december

| request : hiii! i love your works sm 🥺 may i request for gojo x reader (can be headcannon or oneshot, your choice!) where reader is also a jujutsu sorcerer and teaching in kyoto? they act like they hate each other's guts but deep down they really like each other 😂 then when reader visits the school in tokyo gojo and reader were already arguing and teasing each other, the students can't help but think they're together but nAh then they help gojo confess to reader? feel free to ignore if u can't write this,thank youuu! ❤️

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ my day today hasn’t really been the most active at all to be completely honest with you, that lovely time of the month has arrived and i couldn’t help myself but sleep through the pain  ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but moving on from that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Gojo sensei, why don’t you just confess to L/N-sensei already?” Itadori curiously asked, causing the white-haired teacher to lift up his blindfold to look up at his first-year students, who were all standing around him on his chair, with a somewhat confused expression.

“Yuji-kun, what are you talking about? Confess? Ha?” Gojo asked in confusion, wondering why his student was asking such a weird question as well as wondering how Itadori knew about his feelings towards you.

“Sensei, it’s so obvious that you like L/N-sensei! There is no denying that fact,” Kugisaki shouted in frustration, annoyed at the fact how her teacher was so ignorant to the fact that it was clear as day that his infatuation towards you was just painful evident.

“Ah~ you guys caught me~” Gojo teasingly admitted with his hands stuffed into his pocket, before smiling up at the three students that were staring at him with dumbfounded faces.

“WAIT SO YOU KNEW YOU HAD FEELINGS?” Both Itadori and Kugisaki yelled in anger, causing Fushiguro to give both them as well as his teacher a glare of annoyance due to their loudness.

                                              ꕥ

“Fushiguro, who is that?” Kugisaki quietly asked as she pointed towards someone that was walking towards the first-years and Gojo with Principle Yaga right beside them, discussing something that seemed extremely important between both the adults.

“That’s L/N-sensei, she teaches at the Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College but from time to time, she does come over to this school to teach us as well,” Fushiguro explained, as he watches you finally stop right in front of them with a small smile on your face.

“So, these are the two new first-years you were talking about,” you commented to Principal Yaga before introducing yourself towards the three. “My name is L/N Y/N, and you all will be seeing me here from time to time since I’ll be helping you all, but you already know me Megumi,” you stated before gently patting the young boy’s head, causing Fushiguro to smile kindly at you.

“Ah~ isn’t it little Y/N? Have you gotten shorter over the past few months that I haven’t seen you?” Gojo then asked in a playful tone as he placed his giant hand on the top of your head, causing a sudden wave of irritation to hit you once you heard the shaman’s voice. “Well, well, well isn’t it dumbass Satoru? Are you still salty at the fact that I beat you in our last match?” you asked mischievous tone as you then violently pinched his right cheek before pulling it as much as you could.

“Are they dating?” Itadori then asked his friend, only to receive a simple ‘no’ as a response from Fushiguro, causing all three of them to continue watching the mess that was unfolding right in front of them.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch,” Gojo painfully panicked, before you suddenly let go of his face leaving an extremely bright ruby red mark on his face where your fingers were. “That hurts Y/N, who is going to even date you with your abusive antics?” Gojo mocked, causing you to instantly reply with “definitely not you, idiot Satoru,” you quickly answered back leading to the powerful shaman to express a blank expression his face before instantly replacing it with a cheeky smile to cover up what he was feeling - yet, even with that split second change, Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki all notice this and began to wonder the same thing.

‘Does Gojo-sensei like L/N-sensei?’

                                               ꕥ

“You should really confess to her,” Kugisaki suggested to her teacher, causing both Fushiguro and Itadori to nod in agreement - most likely to not be a victim to her wrath if they had disagreed with the female student.

“Maybe you should give her flowers? Or maybe some chocolate since L/N-sensei really like sweets,” Fushiguro commented, causing everyone to look at him with confused expressions on their faces.

“How did you know L/N-sensei loves sweets?” Itadori asked in a perplexed expression, as he wondered by Fushiguro would know such a random fact about you, causing his classmate to sign in frustration before explaining with, “when I was younger, she would always have a few small snacks in her pockets and would offer me some when I was upset or after picking me up from school,”.

“Awww that is so cute Fushiguro, L/N-sensei was basically your other parent,” Kugisaki commented with her hands hold her cheeks while squealing as she imagined the little image of you crouching down and giving a mini Fushiguro a chocolate chip cookie.

“Sensei, listen to Fushiguro and get a box of chocolates! The expensive kind as well because good food is anyone’s best friend,” Kugisaki ranted, as she was getting excited to set this couple up like she was cupid with the arrow - well...more like the nails and hammer.

“Or just get L/N-sensei’s favourite, which is…” Itadori added into the conversation before turning to his shikigami user friend, waiting for him to complete his sentence. Fushiguro turned to look at Itadori before quickly answering, “Meiji Milk Chocolate,”

“That’s quite a cheap chocolate,” Itadori then commented before Kugisaki quickly commanded, “it doesn't matter! Gojo-sensei, you need to go and buy that chocolate as soon as possible since L/N-sensei is coming to teach us today, so better hurry it up!” leading to the special grade shaman to sigh loudly as he quickly standing up from his seat to on his own two feet before making his way out of the room, quickly waving his arm out to all three of his students as a simple ‘see you later’

                                              ꕥ

After an extremely quick run to the closest convenience store, there was no surprised that Mr Gojo “I like eating sweets as well” Satoru came back with a small white bag with the store logo filled with masses of different types of sweets and chocolates nearly overflowing to the top, making any sweet-tooth child that saw this exceedingly jealous at the adult.

Walking around the grounds of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, Gojo was in search of both you and his three students, wondering where all four of you could have gone since he was very certain that there were no missions needed to be completed by anyone from what he was informed. 

However, there was a sudden sound of laughter coming from his left side causing the shaman to quickly turn in that direction and from the sounds of it, it was definitely Kugisaki laughing her ass off at something right now at this current moment in time. Turning his feet, Gojo steadily made his way towards the direction of the sound, hoping that he would find you and the rest there on wherever his feet would guide him.

After finding his way, Gojo had unexpectedly come to the amusing sight of both Fushiguro and Kugisaki - who was still laughing her ass off - sitting on the stairs that were leading to the track field of the school, with you casually standing with your hand in your pocket as Itadori was face planted on the ground from what he assumed was from your beating in your react combat training match.

“I can’t lie Yuji, you’re definitely stronger than I had imagined, if you are able to somehow combine both your physical strength with your curse energy equally, you would be able to beat Todo in no time,” you commented, as you stretched your arms to realise some of the tension that had gained from the little practice match you had with the salmon-haired student.

“Are you sure about that sensei?” Itadori excitedly asked as he quickly lifted his head up from the ground, causing you to gently smile at the young boy before nodding at his question. Leisurely, you turned your head towards the other students to ask whose turn it was until you suddenly saw an exceptionally tall figure standing behind the seated Fushiguro and Kugisaki.

“I guess class has to be dismissed for you,” you quietly mentioned to all the three students causing them to then look at the direction you were glancing at, only to find their playful teacher waving at them with a bright smile on his face.

“Yo~ it seemed like all of you had taken a beating, especially you Yuji,” Gojo stated, causing the Itadori to look away with a tired expression before steadily getting up from the ground. “Also, you all can head back into your dorms to freshen up from your training session since I need to have a chat with L/N-sensei. Class dismissed,” Gojo suddenly announced, leading all the first-years to look confused before seemingly realising what their teacher was going to do once they caught the slight of the small white bag that was in his hands.

Quickly making their way up the stairs, Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki all gave you a wave ‘goodbye’ before making their way back to their rooms, making you and Gojo the only people that were in the area right now.

“What is it that you want, idiot?” you asked, before making your way towards him with a tired expression painted on your face before positioning yourself on the stairs where Kugisaki was previously seated, leading to the white-haired shaman to take a seat next to you - where Fushiguro was previously. 

Suddenly, you unexpectedly heard a loud sound of something ruffling causing you to turn your head, only to now discover the small white back that your Tokyo rival was carrying to then also quickly detect that it was filled with chocolates and sweets leading to a cute little shine in your eyes to which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired man.

“You looking at something sweetie~?” Gojo teasingly asked, causing you to look up at him before quickly turning your head away to the opposite direction, embarrassed that he had caught you peeking at his little snack bag. Although, a few seconds later, you suddenly saw two rectangular boxes that were in both brown and white colour appear in front of your face leaving you in a confused state before hearing “I thought you would want something sweet after teaching my students, like a thank you gift I suppose,”

Hesitantly, you grabbed the two packages before slowly turning back your head to look at your jujutsu sorcerer colleague to see what he was resting his chin on the palm of his hand, somewhat covering the lower half that wasn’t covered but no enough for you to not see the pink hues that were slowly appearing on his face.

Deciding to not ruin the moment, you peered down at the chocolate that Gojo had given you to only suddenly find that he had brought your favourite kind, Meiji Chocolate but he had also added the white chocolate version for you to which put a gentle smile upon your face.

“Oh~ are you liking my gifts?” Gojo playfully asked you as he peered upon your face causing you to look at him with an irritated look. “Way to ruin the moment, you fool,” you then stated before carefully opening the box as you then slid out the foiled covered chocolate before processing to remove the shiny wrapping, only to be presented with the smoothest looking bar of chocolate you have ever laid eyes on. 

Admiring the sweet treat for a few seconds, you began to break the top row of cubes because handing it towards the shaman that was still looking at you. “Here and thank you for the chocolate, I really appreciate it,” you quietly said to Gojo, leading to the shaman to look at you with a shocked face - since you rarely thanked him for simple things like this - before using taking a bite of the chocolate that was still in your hands causing you to blush extremely from his actions. 

“HEY! At least take the chocolate from my hands and not eat it while I’m holding it, you snow idiot!” you shouted at him before feeling something being gently pressed upon your lips while a hint of sweet milk chocolate could be tasted.

Instantly dropping the chocolate bar on your lap, you slowly raised your hands and gently placed them upon Gojo’s cheeks, keeping him still as you wanted to savour this moment a little longer with him. Just a little longer. 

The taste of chocolate was sweetly addictive and there was nothing that could make you want to pull away. You were just plainly addicted. 

Slowly, you moved one of your hands to place it behind his head while placing the other arm over his shoulder. You just needed him close to you. You were willing to let him take your last breath if that meant you get to taste the sweetness that was being shared between the both of you right now.

Unwillingly, you felt yourself and him begin to pull away due to the lack of air, leaving both you and Gojo with heavy breaths. However, before Gojo could ever get a word in between the silence that was surrounding the both of you, he suddenly felt you pull his head back towards you only to feel your lips upon his in a desperate state, letting him off with no choice but to enjoy the feeling on unconditional love that was evolving between both you and him.

As well as the sweet taste of chocolate.

[lavenderbexlatte]

holding you like this

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

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

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

connect with me! / masterlist

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

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

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

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

It’s a little girl.

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

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

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

“Okay. I’m Minnie,” she says.

“Minnie,” your repeat.

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

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

“Cool,” you say awkwardly.

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

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

“Where’s your grown up?” you ask her.

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

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

“Why aren’t you with him?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

“What if he’s worried about you?”

“Then he should find me,” she answers.

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

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

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

“Minnie!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll get out,” she replies.

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

“I really am sorry, um…” he pauses.

“(Y/N),” you fill in for him.

“Right. I’m sorry.”

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

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

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re friends now!” Minnie announces.

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

“Yes!” the girl insists.

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

“See you again?” you repeat, nonplussed.

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you say, finally.

“Cool.”

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

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

“See you later!” Minnie calls.

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

Just like that, you have a new friend.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“Hi, Minnie,” you say patiently.

“Did you get my text?”

“Of course,” you answer.

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

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

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

“Coffee, huh?” you repeat.

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Hyunjin says.

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

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

“That makes sense,” you assure him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, see you then,” you say.

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

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

You laugh, and you hang up.

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

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

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

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

“YES!”

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

“A princess dress,” she says, satisfied.

“I tried my best,” you say.

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

“You look nice.”

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

“Do you work here?” you ask.

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

“It’s fine,” you assure him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep,” she says.

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

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

What a weird kid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

He gives himself a little shake.

“Sorry,” he says.

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

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

“Sweet?” you ask.

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

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

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

“Yeah, she is,” Hyunjin says fondly.

“I’m cool,” Minnie agrees.

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

What are you even doing here?

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

“You and Daddy can be friends, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good idea,” you say.

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

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

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

“Hi. I’m coloring.”

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

“(Y/N),” Minnie answers.

“I see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see,” Judy says.

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

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

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

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

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

“I resent that!” Hyunjin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a slow afternoon.

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

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

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

“The babies!”

“What babies?”

“From Blue’s Clues & You,” she huffs.

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

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

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

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

“How’s it going?” he asks.

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

“Done!” Minnie announces.

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

“Can I put these up?” he asks.

“Together,” says Minnie.

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I will,” you agree.

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

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

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Walking you out,” he replies.

“I’m just going to my subway stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you agree.

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

“I’ll call you!” he says, again.

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

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

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

“Hi, (Y/N)!”

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

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

“A secret mission?”

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

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

“Yeah, a secret mission,” she says.

“What’s your mission?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Surprises are fun,” you say.

“It’s okay?” she asks.

“It’s okay,” you confirm.

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

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

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

You have a date with Hyunjin.

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

The date goes well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to take you somewhere nice.”

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

“This isn’t nice enough?” you quip.

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds okay,” you decide.

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

“That’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They must really like you,” he says.

“No, they just really like being annoying.”

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re green vegetables,” he counters.

“They’re gourmet, don’t be a baby.”

Starters come and quickly disappear.

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

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

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

“Hyunjin?!”

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

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

“Hwang Hyunjin!” she barks.

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

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

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

“I’m eating,” he says finally.

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

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

Mother. This is Hyunjin’s mother?

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

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

“This is my date,” Hyunjin answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Min’s mom wasn’t ready for a baby.”

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

“Neither of us were,” he amends.

“Was she a hookup?” you ask.

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

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

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

“What does that matter?”

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

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

“Disgustingly rich.”

“Oh.”

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

“So what happened?” you ask.

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

“Not the mom?”

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

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

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

“No, I can see that,” you say.

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

“Why?!” you ask, incredulous.

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

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

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

“So, what, they kicked you out?”

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

“You’re a good person,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“That’s good, I guess,” you say.

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

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

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

“Who?”

“You.”

You laugh. “I’m no parent, trust me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” you insist.

“Then what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not a serious couple now!”

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

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

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

“I can show you,” he pleads.

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

You don’t want to lose him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

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

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

“Okay,” you breathe.

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

You hesitate. You decide. You say it.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s cute,” you say.

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like you’re plotting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“As much as you want,” he promises.

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

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

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

“This is Min’s room,” he tells you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bed looks comfy,” you say.

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

“Come find out,” he offers.

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

“How long?”

“Too long. Way too long.

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

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

“Knew you’d be pretty,” he says.

“Shut up,” you mumble.

He gives you another one of those feline grins.

“Watch it,” he warns.

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

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

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

“Can those come off, too?”

“What about your clothes?” you whine.

“We’ll get to that,” he promises.

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

“These are so you,” Hyunjin says.

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

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

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

“I try to keep my expectations realistic.”

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

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

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

“Jesus Christ,” you groan.

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

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

“Yes,” you say, “God, Hyunjin…”

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

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

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

“I will,” you say, “Don’t worry.”

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

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

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

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

“Just a taste, I said,” he placates.

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

“Let me do it,” you say.

“Be my guest.”

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

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

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

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

“I do,” you agree, “Fuck, I do.”

“I’m clean, too,” he tells you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know exactly what!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move, please,” you beg.

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

“I would go home,” you say.

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

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

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

“Look how well you take me,” he says.

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

“So messy,” he teases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you gasp, “Oh my God-”

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

“Hyunjin!” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shower and then sleep?” Hyunjin offers.

“Sounds good.”

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

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

“I liked it,” you admit, shy.

“Really?”

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

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

Hyunjin laughs again. “Good to know.”

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

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

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

“Guess you’re just a DILF.” 

💕💕💕💕

[pascalpanic]

hello lovie how u doing? sorry for bugging again but I was thinking.. how about reader lil jelly of the DEAs new secretary hitting on Javi but he's not giving a shh and reader go to the office for a visit with cinnie and kisses javi like out of nowhere and he gets ?????? and she's suddenly shy

Covetous (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: see above

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: jealousy, flirtation, language and innuendos

A/N: HI I hope this was what you’re looking for!! I hope it’s clear enough that reader is insecure and not demonizing Javier or Luisa... you’ll see. Enjoy!

Javier naturally attracts attention. You’re not quite sure what it is about him that does- or rather there are so many things about him that you don’t know which one it is. Is it the tight shirts that show off his broad shoulders and thick arms? His commanding aura? The sex appeal he radiates like humidity on a hot Colombian morning?

You love him more than anything. How can you not? He gives you all of his love, and expects nothing in return from you. His love is a passionate and all-consuming one; Javier fears commitment, but once he’s in, he’s all in. He’s the strong and silent type, but he melts with you, allows himself to be soft and gentle.

You know Javier would never do anything to hurt you. He can, has, and will go out of his way to protect you, especially with the danger of being the DEA agent’s girlfriend. That doesn’t lessen your anxiety, the fear that some poor judgement lapse on his part will lead to a broken heart. You know the man’s past. You’d be lying to say you weren’t a little scared.

When he started mentioning Luisa, you’d brushed it off and frowned. Javier is an adult. He can be friends with whoever he likes. Plus, she works with him. He can’t exactly ignore her. You didn’t know much about the woman other than the fact that she was young and pretty, as Murphy had told you. She was intelligent, a skilled worker as their receptionist. The only reason you had to dislike her was the little demon inside your head named Jealousy. Hell, you’d never even met her.

Javier mentions her in passing, just something she did at work or something funny she said. Never anything to be suspicious, and you know deep down that your Javi would never do something like that. He’s a good man, he loves you. You know it’s irrational, that you have no reasoning at all, but you can’t help but feel insecure when he talks about her.

Javier works ridiculous hours. He doesn’t have time to do much other than work and work and come home to you and do more work on the couch. He loves you for that more than anything: you understand it. You understand the busy hours and that he doesn’t often have the energy to do much when he gets home. You just sit next to him and quietly rub his shoulders, pressing kisses to his skin while he grinds out some paperwork. You don’t always understand what he’s doing at work, but your outside perspective often offers valuable ideas. You’re not just a girlfriend to Javier, but more of his partner. You are his other half, his comfort and relief and love in his hectic life.

If he’s being honest, Luisa bugs the shit out of him. She’s a smart girl, really, but her job is not as an agent. She likes to think she is, but she doesn’t have the training or knowledge to do so. She’s a go-getter, and Javi admires that, but it’s just another problem on his endless pile of them.

The most annoying thing is her flirting. Javier is no stranger to flirtation, obviously, and in any other situation he’d love to play along; she’s pretty and funny and a good conversationalist, but Javier, of course, only has eyes for you. He’s given her signs to back off, clearly, but she hasn’t picked them up. He’s tried to be more blunt, but nothing works. She is dead set on Agent Peña, and she’s a determined little thing.

You don’t visit Javier at work often. It’s rare that you get the chance, since you’re busy yourself. Usually, you’ll coordinate a day with Connie to bring lunch for the boys and sit with them for a while. They obviously both enjoy it, other than the mockery they receive from the other men when you leave. You love doing it, preening under the attention of your boyfriend and laughing at his annoyance with the other men. You’ve been there enough to know some of the other agents, and you know plenty about them from Javier’s annoyance at them at the end of the day.

Planning a day to surprise Javier at the office is fun. You usually do it when you know he’s extra stressed, when he could use the diversion and a little break in his day. That’s why you decided on it last night. Connie has the day off, and she insisted she’ll help you cook something to bring into work; Steve has been a mess lately too. They need it. She was right.

With a fresh tray of cookies out of the oven, you sigh and climb onto the couch to knock on the ceiling. You rap three times; moments later, two come back in response from Connie. It’s easier than using the phone, Connie suggested one night while you and Javier steadily got the Murphys drunker and drunker. It was funny to you at the time, but she was right. You smile remembering it as you put some cookies into a container and walk out of the front of the apartment building.

Connie is in a cheerful mood today. It’s probably because she has the day off; normally, she’d be asleep at this hour, thanks to long night shifts. She chats with you as the two of you drive to the embassy together, humming along to a song on the radio. She tells you all about Steve, the latest recipe she found, her new favorite grocery store. You smile and nod, mind elsewhere. Her blonde head bobs along to the rhythm as she finds a spot and parks.

You are irrational, you remind yourself as you walk in. You know and trust and love Javier. Luisa is nothing to worry about. Then why do you have a painfully tight grip on your container of cookies? “Hey, you’re gonna crack that,” Connie chides and swats your hand. “You okay, babe?”

You shake your head and smile it off. “It’s nothing. Guess I’m just excited,” you chuckle and loosen your grip on the cookies, though your spine is rigid as a board.

There’s a desk and at the front sits a woman, slightly younger than you, writing something in a book. She looks up when she hears the two of you enter through the lobby deeper into the building. “Hola. Soy Luisa, bienvenidos. Necesitá-“

That’s Luisa? She’s sweet, you frown. You’ve been all worked up over this? She’s cut off when Steve walks past. “Woah, hey ladies,” he chuckles as he sees the two of you. He wraps an arm around his wife and kisses her forehead. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Connie shrugs, beaming up at her husband. “We just thought we’d bring you lunch.”

“I made cookies,” you offer weakly, holding up the tupperware. You’re surprised it isn’t shattered into plastic shards on the ground by now.

“Hell yeah,” Steve smiles and snatches the cookies from your hands. “Luisa, this is my wife, Connie.”

She nods. “I could tell,” she chuckles, gesturing to the blonde hair and blue eyes. Who else would she be around here? “And you are?” She asks, turning to you.

“Ah, that’s Peña’s girl, remember?” Steve says for you, which makes you breathe a sigh of relief.

Her smile becomes tight-lipped and passive-aggressive. “Ah, yes. Wonderful to meet you,” she tells you, turning back to her books immediately. “Steve, you will show the women back then?”

He nods. “Thanks, kid.” He steals a candy from the jar she keeps on her desk and leads you back into the bullpen. He and Connie talk about their days, and you trail behind, nervously tapping your fingers against your sides. Now that you don’t have the Tupperware to clutch, you fidget until your heart warms at the sight of Javier. He’s hunched over his desk, shoulders straining against his tight shirt. He’s rapidly banging out a report on a typewriter, and your smile becomes a little bittersweet with how hard you know he’s working.

He’s a jumpy man, but scaring him is your favorite thing in the world. You hold a finger to your lips to the Murphys, telling them to be quiet, and they nod in agreement. Silently padding up behind him, you cover his hands with your eyes. “Boo,” you squeal.

“What the fuck?” Javier jumps, rapidly pulling the hands off his eyes and spinning in his chair. His hand hovers over his weapon, but his anxiety fades when he sees it’s you. “Hijo de puta… cariño,” he smiles softly, laughing a little. “What are you doing here?” He asks as he stands, pulling you into a hug.

His face is all the reassurance you need, his smile and his arms squeezing you making you grin. “We brought you lunch. Wanted to surprise you,” you tell him as you break away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Got a spare minute?”

He sighs and sits back down at his desk. “Can you give me five? I need to finish this report then I’m all yours.”

“Fine,” you sigh teasingly and kiss him on the head. While he types, you and Connie set up the desks, arranging chairs and plates on top of piles of cluttered papers. Javier’s handwriting is messy, you notice as you look at a folder of information, but legible. Hurried but still nice, looping and arcing.

“Hey,” Javi booms playfully and startles you, snatching the folder from your hands. “That’s classified.”

“That’s about as classified as your dick is to the Colombian population of women,” Steve snorts.

“Stephen!” Connie gasps and scolds, smacking his arm.

It doesn’t matter. You and Javi are laughing, falling onto each other and giggling at the joke. Steve sniggers under his breath, trying to avoid Connie’s wrath from the rude joke.

Straightening up, you take a sip of your water and try to collect yourself, though you’re still chuckling softly. “Does this mean you’re done?” You ask him hopefully.

Javier sighs and signs the bottom of the paper. His signature is beautiful and classy: J. Peña. “Now I am,” he smiles at you and tucks the file away in a desk drawer. “What did you bring us to eat, hm?”

The four of you converse over the meal, waving forks around aimlessly to make your points. The Murphys talk on their own, chatting about plans for the night. The meal is clearly finished and Javier cracks open the container of cookies, winking at you. You know he loves them, adores the little fluffy things. You smile and snag one from the tupperware before he can. He frowns. “I wanted that one.”

“Poor baby,” you tease and cup his face, taking a bite from it.

There’s the clacking of heels on tile approaching before you hear it: “Agente Peña!” a feminine voice sings. You roll your eyes, completely missing the way Javier rolls his too. “Javi?” She asks as she gets closer, about to round the corner.

God, you can’t stand that she calls him that. He’s only Javi to you and the Murphys, to those who love him. Your rational brain is far out of the window, possessed by jealousy as you do the only thing you can to, what, stake your claim? It doesn’t matter. Javier won’t be mad with the tiniest bit of affection. Your other hand cups Javier’s face too and you kiss him.

He’s used to kissing you. The two of you do it all the damn time. He’s just not a big PDA man; never has been. He prefers to keep his passion in private. But he doesn’t care, and cares even less when he knows Luisa is watching. He kisses back, rolling your chair closer to his and cupping your face too.

Luisa huffs at the sight. “Guess you’re busy,” she scoffs in English.

You break away only to find her walking away, and you can’t help but smirk. At least now she knows that Javier is truly committed to you, if she even caught a glimpse of the way he kissed you back. “What was that for?” Javier asks.

“Because I love you?” You chuckle and kiss him one more time, soft and quick.

He knows exactly why you did it. He doesn’t ask again. “I love you too, cariño,” he chuckles and rests his hand on your thigh.

-

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[shivada-jade]

codename: vind

older sibling!reader

characters: diluc, kaeya ➡ mentions: adelinde, crepus, la signora warning(s): alcohol consumption, swearing, and because for some reason, older siblings tend to be shorter than younger siblings. iDK WHY but ugh, yeah you're shorter than diluc and kaeya bc you're the older sibling. ik, i hate it too

like, i wanna be a tall 6'2 woman

diluc's 5'10 so u can still be tall in the story.. just not 5'11 😢 sorry over 5'10 folks

➡ WRITTEN BEFORE 2.1 so uhh :D

notes: platonic w diluc and kaeya, duh bc ur the older sibling. sibling love!!! sibling love !! woop woop !

"Dad, I'm home!" You bellow out to the house, waving a polite hello to Adelinde who looked shocked to see you. You kick off your shoes and slide your way to the long table in the living room, swiftly grabbing an apple before heading upstairs.

Your hands graze the railings and make your way up to find your dad. Upon reaching the last flight of steps, you were suspicious with how the place was very quiet. Granted, your younger brothers are now adults, but it still felt too quiet. Maybe you expected to see your brothers playing a game of chess, maybe bickering and fencing. You were hoping to see your family after being away.

You were a part of the Fatui under the Mondstadt branch. It was and at the same time wasn't a choice to be roped into the Fatui. You got roped into the wrong group of friends and found yourself blackmailed by the infamous group.

You didn't want to join. You didn't want any of it. You've been disconnected from the world. Wiped out from the face of Earth. No one gave information to you, you couldn't learn anything about what's happening currently. The most you could do was send letters, but even those were difficult to send out. You had to do it in secrecy or you'd be in trouble.

Love, the better sibling,

[Y/N]

Or another common send off is:

Please write back soon,

[Y/N]

And your family never failed to send back letters. They asked what you're doing, where you are and how are you, still you never told them your occupation, fearful of what they would think and where your loyalties lie, so you told them you were working under an adventurer.

It's for the greater good. You remember trying to convince yourself.

You're a horrible person.

You were sixteen then. Your younger brothers were twelve. It's been 10 long years since you last saw them, and 6 years since you last received a letter back. You miss them dearly. You often wondered what sorts of adventures they did without you.

But why are you wondering about this? You knew what they did: you knew everything that happened.

You're living under a heavy burden.

"Dad?" You call out again. Maids and wine makers look aghast when they see you, and they're on the verge of fainting when you call out to your father.

Stop the act.

It's strange how the letters were suddenly cut off. The last letter you received was from Kaeya, telling you how you needed to come home straight away. You tried to, but the Fatui prevented you from doing so. A lady called La Signora supervised you directly to make sure you didn't leave.

You know...

Adelinde brushes the dust off her uniform and hurries up the stairs to catch up to you, "Dear, is that you [Y/N?]"

"Did you forget me that easily? I'm offended Miss Adelinde," you chided, but the teasing look in your eyes give Adelinde relief to know you aren't actually offended. "Miss, where's dad?"

You're sickening.

Adelinde takes one look at you and squeezes your shoulders with a smile, "I'm afraid that's not for me to say. Master Diluc should be able to-"

"Oh, where's Diluc and Kaeya?" You ponder, and the corners of your lips curl upwards. "Those two were always attached to the hip. Where are they now? Horseback riding at the vineyard? Ha! I-"

You glance at Adelinde's watery eyes and stop your babbling. "What's wrong Miss Adelinde?" You reach for her hands on your shoulders and hold them. "Ah, has father been making you work too hard? I can request him to lessen your load."

Adelinde shakes her head no. "You don't have a clue, do you? Oh," she sighs. "Please, rest yourself by the fireplace. I'll prepare tea for you." She rests her hands back at her side and scurries to the kitchen.

You frown, unsure why she's jumpy, but you follow her request and sit by the fireplace. The crackle of the fire contrasts the tense air you feel when maids brush past you, offering tea Adelinde made. You thank them, gently blowing on the drink.

After taking a sip, you place it down with a pinky to lessen the noise it makes on the table. You hear the door open, and the choruses of maids greeting someone.

"Welcome home, Master Diluc," you hear and other voices saying, "We've prepared a meal for you and your sibling, would you like to rest yourself?"

You peek from your chair, he obviously hadn't realized you yet.

Diluc's lips make a thin line and shrugs off his jacket, "Why is Kaeya visiting. Isn't he supposed to do his knightly duties?"

You have no clue why he says it like that. The venom in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You decide this is your cue to give him a warm welcome. You stand from your seat, and open your arms in a grand gesture and waltz to your brother. "Diluc! It's been a while huh?"

You clearly see him tense hearing your voice. His head snapped to your direction with his mouth parted. The maids respectively take their leave, bowing before they do so.

Diluc looks you up and down, still not believing you're there, like you're just his imagination. His hand slowly reaches out to you as if you're a dream.

Your feet lead you closer and you grasp him tightly in an embrace.

He freezes, but slowly relaxes in your hug, reluctantly bringing up his own arms to wrap around you. You feel his grip tightening, and you feel his shake out silent sobs. His face buries in your neck, letting tears fall on your clothes.

You soothe his back, and press a kiss on his hair. "I'm home, Diluc."

He trembles, pushing himself away to look at you clearly. Why hadn't you come home earlier? He wanted to vent, he wanted to yell, shout, he wanted to know how much he missed you in your absence.

He clears his throat and coughs in his fist. "You should have told me about your arrival," he adjusts the gloves on his hands, and looks to the floor like he did when he admitted he accidentally broke your toy when you were 10.

After these years, he still looks up to you as his older sibling. Not a thing has changed.

But you couldn't help but notice one thing. You knew Diluc and Kaeya had matured, you knew they would grow taller, but shit, now Diluc's taller than you.

"I sent a letter a month ago," you began. "It should have been sent to your office in the Favonius Headquarters? That's where I send my mail after you told me about your promotion to Cavalry Captain."

You squish his cheeks with both your hands. "Because I know you're a workaholic and only respond to letters that mean business, so that's where I sent it off to. You never write back, neither does Kaeya," you pause, thinking for a moment. "Neither does dad. Tell me he hasn't gotten sick that he couldn't respond to my letters."

Diluc lifts your hands off his face and frowns. He doesn't know how to break the news to you- not when you look so excited to be home and tell of your adventures to your family, so he asks, "Did you eat yet?"

You note the frown on his face. "'What's got you grumpy," you prod. "I need to find dad first. Told him in the first letter I gave him, I'd give the first gem I find."

Diluc watches you leave him to go to Crepus' room on the second floor. He hears the thuds on the floor and the opening of the door, but does nothing to stop you. You left with a smile, and you come back confused.

"Why is dad's room empty?"

How cruel.

...

Kaeya hums, passing by Flora's shop and purchasing a Calla Lily for the sake of it. He is well aware of the Fatui that stand by corners. Whispers of the wind give him intel, and so does alcohol apparently. He leans on a wall right outside Angel's Share, watching two Fatui members drink some of the tavern's strongest alcohol, imported from Snezhnaya.

"That damn," the one with the red and black mask hiccups, lifting a mug with foam overflowing. "Damn brat's gonna snitch on us to the Knights- *hiCC* boss lady wou- *HicC* would have our heads!"

Thankfully, their more responsible Fatui friend takes the mug and switches it with their drink, water. "You're the one who let Vindicta out of your sight when you know their frequencies to escape. This is all on you, buckaroo."

One of the Fatui escaped? How peculiar.

Kaeya hums, in steady strides he shows himself to the Fatui and takes a seat from another table and sits in front of the two. "My, my, my. If it isn't the wonderful Fatui," he divuldges. He twirls his Calla Lily around his fingers, amused with the Fatui's reactions.

Their mouths drop, knowing who he is and they hastily clean themselves up by sitting straight and wiping away the alcohol from their faces. "Good evening, sir."

"Evening to you too," he places the flower behind the person's ear, flustering them. "Well? Drink up. Everything you order will be on me."

The Fatui look at each other, skeptical with Kaeya's kindness, but the drunken one accepts the offer. Kaeya celebrates in the inside as he slowly gains Fatui intel.

Though, the second Fatui whom he dubbed the "Responsible One," took a while for them to take a sip. Turns out, they couldn't handle alcohol, that's why they avoided drinking it.

"So, my dear friends," he slides a coin on the table and stares both of them down. "A mora for your thoughts? I couldn't help but notice the tense of your shoulders when you first arrived here."

Responsible One raises their mug drunkenly, and gives a pointed look, "You... you know too much. How?..." They stare at their friend and whisper shout, "Don't tell him about Vind or-" They fail to continue their sentence and pass out on the table.

Kaeya feigns a surprised face and looks at Fatui number 2, "Who exactly is Vind? I'm sure you don't mean the storm watcher up at the cliff." He coats his voice with sugar, and it seems Fatui friend fell for his kindness.

"The damn brat," they spit out before hiccupping again. "Recruited them, fed them, saw potential, gave a home, and they escaped."

Kaeya nods and pushes another bottle of wine to the Fatui's direction, urging them to continue.

"Was supposed to be one of the Agents to spy on the *hiCc* to spy on the Ragnvindr family, because *HicC* Vind was one of the best there is. They were about to be promoted Harbinger after an assignment *hiCCUpp* but then Big Boss Lady said 'End the Ragnvindr legacy,' Vindicta left without a word. They escaped."

The Fatui downs another bottle of wine. "But judging from Boss Lady's reaction, Vind did the job: killed him and placed the blame on the Knights."

The Calvary Captain knits his brows and places his hands in front of him. It laced themselves and he watches the Fatui person empty out his wine.

"I'd be careful of what you say if I were you." His lone eye glints dangerously.

"End the legacy?" Kaeya frowns. "Can I ask..." He couldn't ask why or the Fatui would stop talking to him. "Can I ask when your beloved spy did their job?"

The Fatui waves a hand, "Six years ago. After they killed that damn aristocrat's father, they tried escaping. Big Boss supervised them under their watch. 'Potential' the Harbingers always say, but I don't see the potential in them if they don't have loyalties under the Fatui. A wild card, really."

They lay their cheek on the table. The temperature drops quite dangerously. Kaeya's diamond eye glints with coldness before it turns back to warmth.

"Rumours have it," the Fatui sighs, playing with his empty mug. "The training Vindicta went through is rougher, so we were hoping they would tie their loyalties to us. We let them explore once, and they escaped under my watch. Maybe it was their assignment to leave, maybe it's not, because Boss Lady was okay with it, she said 'Vindicta will always return in our hands.' when they first escaped, and surely enough they do return. But either way, I'm fucked for letting them go missing the third time of the week."

Kaeya laughs with no soul and quickly ends the lovely 'conversation.' He pushes himself from the table and stands, "Thank you for chatting with me, it's been interesting." He tucks in the chair and glances at the two Fatui dozing, or close to dozing off.

He swiftly turns away, scoffing when he's out of sight from people. Vindicta is a dangerous card. Not even the Fatui know where their loyalties side.

Vindicta. How peculiar indeed.

One of the best Fatui, which probably meant they were payed well with respect and mora, but why are they labeled as an escapee when they always return? With someone as dangerous as a Harbinger, who do they side with- the Fatui or something else?

Kaeya has a lot of questions.

...

Diluc sits on a cushioned chair and hunches over, resting his chin on his hands, thinking.

Always thinking.

The once lit fireplace is soaked with water he splashed over. The scent of burnt wood wafts nearby. The light chatter of maids go through one ear and leave the other.

How long had it been since he last saw you?

Eternity is his answer. It's been eternity since he last saw you.

He lets out a long sigh, throwing his head back and running a hand through his untied locks.

Too much thinking for today. Diluc groans in frustration and sits back up. He turns his head slightly, seeing you in the corner of his eyes taking out boxes of things you owned from 10 years before.

It doesn't make sense to him. Why come back so suddenly after years of not seeing you? Though, you claim you sent him letters, he never got them because he closed himself off from the Knights.

"Diluc," you set down a small picture of a family portrait you took out from hiding behind many books.

You are taking this oddly well.

You're taking this too well, in fact.

This raises a red flag for Diluc. He told you the fall out of your family, how he quit the Knights, but still you're going around the place like nothing had happened.

Don't you feel any rage? Or even sadness?

He sees too many red flags and hates it- from the way you can hide things like Kaeya so easily, to the way you just suddenly appear back in his life. It feels weird. It's not easy to let someone that in quick, yet you're still his role model, so it's okay, right?

He's always looked up to you when he was younger. You never were at a loss of words and stood up for him. You were the person he can turn to when something wrong happens, but what were you doing for yourself to be gone for so long? Adventuring Teyvat could not have taken ten whole years. Where did you even stay?

"Diluc," you crouch in front of him and talk to him as if he were six again. "I'm okay, okay?"

Diluc takes a shaky breath and sits up straight. His posture resembling a king's. "I have an idea, and I would like you to help me."

You look at him in awe. The realization settles in: Diluc has grown, and you're still stuck trying to make up the past.

"And what do I help you with?"

"Finding who's responsible for father's death."

notes: had this in my drafts for a long time and i was like "wait where was i going with this..." until BAM i have the idea again so im gonna continue it

(part 2)

[x-reader-theater]

Hey!

Don't know if you remember when Spencer says '' why all my fan are psycho ''? And like he start to talk with one of his fan (the reader) by letter and one day the reader expose to him one of his theories like he think there is a serial killer in his town and ask Spencer for help and Spencer fear to meet him but when they do reader is like not a psycho and idk sweet fluff and cotton candy?

Please? Love u ❤️

The dots mean that there is more being said, but I didn't want to write it loll. Thanks @mystic-writes for editing, as always.

Gif by @captainchilly

Dear Dr. Reid,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am writing to tell you that I admire your work, and everything you do to help people. I know you probably won't see this letter for a while, but today's my birthday and I was dared by a friend to write this. Yes, we are all adults, but most of us missed out on a traditional childhood, so we like to play children's games to bring happier memories.

…

I hope to receive a letter from you soon, though I am not holding my breath.

Sincerely,

[Y/N] [L/N]

–

Dear [L/N],

I am happy to hear that my work has brought you joy. And you are right, I am getting this letter long after you have addressed it, but I will still wish you a happy birthday irregardless. Did you know that birthdays were denounced by Christians as a devil worshiping holiday?

…

I am looking forward to corresponding with you further.

Sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

–

Dear Dr. Reid,

I did not expect to get a 14 page letter in reply. That isn't to say I'm surprised, or annoyed. It was really fascinating to read.

…

Love,

[Y/N].

P.s. I think there's a serial killer in my town.

–

Dear [L/N],

A serial killer? What do you mean? Are you alright?

…

Please reply soon,

Spencer.

–

Dear Spencer,

I have attached all the information I think you'll need and you'll come to the same conclusion I have. Someone is murdering prostitutes. At first the deaths were seen as normal, and no one cared, but as you can see, the violent nature of the murders and the way they're killed, it's not separate homicides.

…

I fear the police are ignoring it.

Love,

[Y/N]

P.s. What do you look like?

–

Dear [Y/N],

Yes, looking through the evidence you've provided I've convinced my boss to come and investigate when we get invited by the local police. Sadly, that doesn't seem to be happening any time soon.

…

I eagerly await your response,

Spencer.

P.s. Why do you want to know what I look like?

–

Dear Spencer,

Yes, I feared that may be the case. I will continue to talk to the police about potentially inviting the BAU to help solve this. I only hope that can happen soon.

…

I want to know what you look like because I don't know. I know I can look it up, but there's a certain closeness to describing how one looks to another. I also try to avoid the news as much as possible, but I have read a number of your papers and I have a pretty clear idea in my head of what you look like, but I want to know how close I am without actually seeing a picture.

I'm sure you have an idea in your head of what I look like.

Love,

[Y/N]

–

Dear [Y/N],

I suppose you're right. There is something inherently intimate about describing oneself to another. But, I will only tell you if you promise to tell me. And yes, I do have an image of what you look like in my head, but I won't share it with you.

…

I am enjoying our correspondence greatly.

Love,

Spencer.

–

Dear Spencer,

That would only be fair, so I agree. I will also not share with you what I think you look like, but with the way you speak I do think you're younger than you want me to know. Maybe mid to late twenties. If you are that age, then I'm a similar age to you. That is all I'm going to say.

…

I'm excited to see what you say.

Love,

[Y/N]

–

Dear [Y/N],

You're right. I am in my mid to late twenties. I am happy to hear you are of a similar age. I was worried what you might think, especially if you were older, but I'm glad to know I have nothing to worry about.

I guess I can start describing myself.

…

I'm very plain. A co-worker calls me "Pretty Boy" but I don't see it.

Love,

Spencer

–

Dear Spencer,

Pretty Boy, huh? The way you describe yourself doesn't sound plain at all. I know you are trying to give exact measurements, but if you are to create a face with those measurements in mind, you are very handsome. I can see why he calls you Pretty Boy. You are also nothing like how I pictured, and that's not a bad thing. Not at all.

I'll start describing myself now.

…

I hope I live upu to your expectations.

Love,

[Y/N]

–

Dear [Y/N],

I have just gotten word from my Unit Chief that we have finally been invited into the local investigation of the dead prostitutes in your town. We're to leave in a few days after the necessary paperwork is filed and we have finished with our current case in DC.

…

Most of my fans are psychotic, murderers, and I don't want you to be that way. From your letters you seem normal, but you never really know. I won't lie, I'm a little frightened to meet you.

Love,

Spencer

P.s. You're not what I expected either. You're much better.

–

You smile as you read the latest letter, your fingers trailing across the indentations of the words carved in the paper. Ever since your first letter, the two of you never brought up the idea to switch to text or emails. There was something about Spencer's handwriting that was so beautiful to read. It was messy, sure, but the kind of messy that showed someone had too many things too say and couldn't write fast enough. His hand couldn't keep up with his head.

You hear a knock on your door and frown, setting down the paper, and you go to your front door. Opening it you see a tall, thin man with long brown hair and a messenger bag slung across his body standing in front of you, looking shyly at you.

"[Y/N]?" he asks and you nod. "It's me. Uh, Spencer."

Your eyes go wide and you whisper, "Spencer?"

He nods, and as soon as he does, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug. He hugs you back right away, and you bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent. Again, nothing like you pictured, but so much better. He smelled of books and hand sanitizer, two opposing smells that seemed to fit perfectly for him.

You pull back, and when you meet his hazel eyes, you kiss him.

[prettyboykatsuki]

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

__

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,”  he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

__

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning  on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart  in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

__

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You  cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

[mooniefics]

AFTER CONTEMPLATING FOR SEVERAL MINUTES:

reiner braun 🤪 + “please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

this is literally the cutest moonie, i'm proud of you for hitting 250!! ilysm 💖✨💕

oh my gosh i’m so sorry this took me so long,, thank u so much for the request n the congratulations mar !! very happy that my first work for this event can be for my love, our one n only reiner ♡(｡- ω -)

in all your years of knowing reiner, you couldn’t say that you’d ever once heard him sounding so frantic.

“please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

those were the exact words he’d used over the phone, imploring for you to come to the official marley high ten-year reunion and pose as his girlfriend. despite how you assured him that you were certain no one would judge him for being single, he seemed adamant that it would be the exact opposite. and after a few apologies for your laughter at his predicament and a brief negotiation over his payment of getting you your favorite drink from the cafe near your workplace for the next few weeks, it was a done deal.

though you admittedly felt a twinge of anxiety upon entering the venue of chattering adults, dressed in the best semi-formal outfit you had in your closet, you could see that he was the more obviously nervous one between the two of you.

“just relax, rei.” you murmured, slipping your hand in his and giggling at the way his arm tensed, “these are your high school friends! i’m sure they’ll be surprised enough that you managed to find a nice girl like me all by yourself—“ he huffed disapprovingly, earning another small laugh, “—and only ask about your work or something.”

you barely finished your brief attempt at a pep talk when a loud voice came from somewhere by the food table. “is that you, braun?!”

reiner’s jaw shifted, a sign you’d come to learn meant him holding back a wince, turning to see a man with slicked back hair and a broad grin on his face approaching. based on his heavy-lidded gaze, paired with the red solo cup tipping dangerously horizontal in his grasp, you assumed he was quite tipsy already.

“considering how late you are, i wasn’t sure you’d even show,” he chuckled, still having to peer up at reiner despite still being taller than you, “but the more i thought about it, the more i remembered you never were the punctual type anyways.”

“great to see you too, porco..” reiner replied half-heartedly, palm already getting clammy in your grasp.

you glanced momentarily between them, deciding to come to your friend’s rescue by clearing your throat, drawing the teasing attention away from him. “actually, he was late because of me.” you flashed a smile, leaning into reiner’s side. “just wanted to look my best since i knew i was gonna be meeting his old friends.”

“holy shit..” porco muttered after a moment of silence, hazel eyes blowing wide as he stared at you like you’d disappear if he blinked even once, only breaking his gaze to turn over his shoulder and call out, “piecky, c’mere! i think reiner’s actually got a fuckin’ girlfriend!!”

you barely stifled a laugh at reiner’s low sigh of discomfort, pointedly ignoring how the people around glanced at porco’s shout. “did you seriously used to hang around with that guy?”

“no..” he grumbled back, “he hung around the people i hung around with and always gave me shit for no reason.”

“wow, rei, feeling a little feisty tonight, are we?”

he scoffed as you reached up to poke at his cheek, able to see the pink flush that had settled over his sharp features despite the dim lighting, dodging your inquiry while he looked ahead. “he’s coming back.”

putting on the smile you’d practiced so many times right back on, you caught sight of a cheerful dark-haired woman sidling over to your small group. “reiner?! you seriously got even taller? who’s this?”

you both exchanged names, offering a hand for her to shake which she eagerly took, turning to reiner for affirmation of your identity, to which he said, “yeah, she's my.. girlfriend...”

“how long have the two of you been together?”

“a couple months—”

“—almost a year.”

you quickly laughed off the sudden nerves of giving conflicting answers, turning back to reiner’s friends and recovering with, “we’re not super big on keeping track of dates. you know how time flies when you love someone.” you turned up to reiner, lips perking into a doting smile, “right?”

his cheeks flushed an even darker red, a sheepish smile brightening his expression. “right.”

“looks like you’re the only single one, pock.” pieck teased, laughing when the man rolled his eyes and huffed.

“you’re still with zeke?” reiner asked, prompting her to extend her left hand, waggling her fingers to show off the large diamond ring on her finger.

“yep, engaged for two years now!”

“apparently still too good to come to anything she invites him to.” porco grumbled in response.

“i already told you he’s on a business trip,” she frowned, taking his cup from his hand and taking a generous sip from it, “i’m sure he would’ve come if he hadn’t had somewhere else to be.”

“whatever you say..” he sighed, letting her finish his drink despite his apparent annoyance.

thankfully, your small slip up had been ignored, allowing both you and reiner to relax when the two finally turned their attention back to you. the night progressed much less turbulently than you’d previously anticipated, reiner allowing you to handle any questions directed at your relationship, not saying anything when you frequently slipped in little white lies to make everything seem more convincing. it didn’t stray terribly far from the truth, you were entirely honest about the way you’d met and the things that had made you “fall in love with him”. 

you took a strange amount of joy in posing as his significant other, just as he gave equally genuine reactions when you wrapped his arm around your shoulder or ate something from his plate of food, flustered and smiling all throughout. for a few brief moments, you almost forgot that he was meant to be pretending too. he’d seemed more than happy to see that you were getting along well with all his old friends.

you learned more about reiner in the hour that you’d been milling around the room with him than you probably ever had in the confines of the job environment that you’d met him in—intrigued to hear that he’d been the captain of the football team, feuded with the neighboring high-school’s while being head over heels for the captain of their cheer team, held the title of champion arm-wrestler for all four years he attended marley—little details that you made you would’ve never known had you never agreed to come. the unintentionally intimidating, humble, easy-to-fluster human resources manager that you’d befriended apparently used to be a total jock, always getting himself into trouble. 

and, based on how many times you’d been congratulated on managing to stick by his side for longer than a few months, you could only assume that you hadn’t even scratched the surface of discovering the entirety of reiner’s character.

eventually, your small group of four that’d you started out the night with had reconvened, tipsy from constantly sipping on spiked punch, an excited exclamation from pieck made all of you turn. “look! the photo booth finally opened up!!”

she was already rushing away for the corner of the venue before anyone could say a word, everyone following suit with a laugh as she stuffed a five dollar bill into the pay slot.

“uhh, pieck, i think this thing was only meant for two people.. max.” porco said after drawing open the curtain, earning a frown from her.

“but i want us all to take a picture together!” she slid into the booth despite the observation, turning to you, “c’mon, i’m sure we could all squeeze in if you sat on reiner’s lap.”

you felt your face flush, knowing there was no way to work around her request without raising some kind of suspicion and ruining the act you’d both somehow maintained for the entire night. “sounds like a plan..!”

you could feel how tense reiner was behind you as you got settled on his thighs, hesitating to rest his hands on either side of you while pieck and porco struggled to work the screen before them. you were starting to regret not asking if this was okay with him before agreeing, but you were sure he would’ve found some way out of the situation if he was truly uncomfortable. he only seemed to be preoccupied with the thought of making you uncomfortable, something which made a flicker of affection warm your chest.

“alright! we’ve got four pictures,” pieck announced, “starting... now! and make the first a normal one!”

the first three pictures were the standard photo booth antics—one with all of you smiling normally, one with all of you making the most ridiculous face you could think of in five seconds, and one of all of you arguing over what the third photo should’ve been.

“do something cute for the last one to make up for the messed up one!” pieck demanded through her laughter, pointing urgently at the countdown on the screen, “hurry up an’ kiss or something!!”

you turned back to look at reiner, wide golden eyes gazing down at you, obviously unprepared for the steadily escalating circumstance that was only being intensified by the chanting of “kiss, kiss, kiss!” coming from the woman who’d paid for the photos in the first place. and although you knew you had no obligation to do what she asked just because she had been so kind to you despite only meeting you tonight, or because the timer was winding down towards zero all too quickly, you still found yourself reaching out a hand to settle just under his jaw, heart racing impossibly fast when you realized he was already leaning down to meet you halfway.

his lips were still sweet with whatever juice had been mixed with alcohol, skin warm and blushing from your proximity, the hand that had been resting in your lap wandering to lace your fingers with his. the exchange didn't last nearly long enough, the click of the camera drawing you back to the cramped reality, pieck's cheers through giggles and porco's disgusted scoff for you two to get a room.

"i better be invited to your wedding!" pieck joked, reaching across you to draw open the curtains in a silent sign for you to pry yourself away from reiner.

"likewise." you replied with a smile, almost giddy with excitement as you clambered out of the photo booth.

though reiner's expression just barely passed as casual, his cheeks were burning red, even the tips of his ears flushed as the four of you waiting for the machine to dispense your photos. the function was winding down fast, and as soon as your drawn-out goodbyes were finally finished, you and reiner left, hand-in-hand, much to talk over but neither of you willing to speak until you'd reached the privacy of his car.

you turned to him, smiling in the dim glow on the lights of his dash, laughing softly at his sheepish expression, "i know you said we'd only pretend for a day but.. you think i could request a little extension?"