#only a few people know they are the same person

[ceilidho]

prompt: construction worker ghost and his elementary school teacher neighbour who made the poor decision to start feeding him (nsfw, 2k) [based on this old ask] [on ao3 here]

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They say not to feed wild animals. 

It makes them grow soft, lazy. Alters their behaviour. Takes an animal previously capable of finding its own food dependent on humans for sustenance. Makes them lose their natural fear of humans and nearly always results in an increase in human-wildlife conflicts as they start to seek out people. It’s a known fact. You can’t go to a park without seeing it plastered on posters in the bathroom and on the sides of the vending machines under the gazebos where you purchase your post-hike iced tea and veggie roll to eat on a nearby bench. 

You know this. So you really don’t know what possessed you to leave a cooler full of sandwiches on your neighbour’s doormat before turning in for the night. 

He wakes up preternaturally early and leaves every morning around four-thirty or five o’clock on the dot. Sometimes in the fog of sleep, you wake to hear the door to the apartment beside yours crack open and slam shut, and then the sound of lumbering footsteps down the hall towards the staircase before that door opens and slams shut too. 

He never comes home before four o’clock at the earliest. That’s around when you come home from work as well, meaning that you sometimes catch him at the door, him covered in grime and reeking of old sweat while you come flouncing down the hall in whatever colourful dress you’d donned that morning, inevitably paint-splattered by the end of the day. Always something appropriate to wear at an elementary school but colourful enough to keep the kids’ eyes and attention on you. 

You’ve caught his name in half-whispered conversations with the property manager, but aside from that, all you know about Simon Riley is that he works in construction. He certainly looks the part: big, calloused hands with blunt, dirt-caked nails and cut up fingers, knuckles always swollen and thick. Body all strength and brawn. Hard hat tucked under his armpit and decorated with countless stickers from old job sites, the same way his forearm is covered in tattoos. 

You’ve even passed by his current job site once or twice—some new condo complex going up by the canal that’s forced you and hundreds of other commuters to leave an extra thirty minutes early to account for the road closures. You pointedly don’t bring that up in conversation though. That would just be rude. 

At least it would be something to talk about though.

It’s not like the two of you talk. You’re not close by any means. Though you moved in a few months ago, you haven’t had much luck mustering up the confidence to squeak out more than a hi to him in passing. When he grunts back something approximating a hello, it’s all you can do not to break your key in the lock when you hurry into your apartment and slam the door shut behind you, heart beating frantically in your chest. 

It’s humiliating. You’re a grown woman and you’ve talked to plenty of men before. You’ve dated plenty of men before. Just because this one speaks in monosyllables and stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach churn and your palms grow sweaty doesn’t change anything. Just because this one is built like a redwood with wrists thick enough that you’d need both hands to wrap around doesn’t make him any different than any other person.

And yet, when Simon asks you for your name on a rainy June afternoon after you’ve come in after him for a change only to find him sifting through letters at the mailbox, you garble out something that sounds nothing like your name before scurrying up the stairs to your flat.

It’s humiliating. It’s humid outside and your dress is sticking to all the wrong places (namely, your nipples and the inside of your thighs when the skirt swishes between your legs with each stride) and now you’ve made an ass of yourself in front of the only hot guy in your building. There are serial arsonists with more charm than you. 

So maybe the sandwiches are an apology letter or an olive branch. Or maybe it just makes your heart race to think of Simon opening up the cooler and finding four wax paper-wrapped sandwiches tucked neatly over ice packs. 

All you know is that when you step out of your apartment the next morning, the cooler is empty on your doormat, the lid propped open. He must have taken them with him. 

You smile. A job well done. Apology served fresh, with cucumber slices in the middle. 

The problem starts when you don’t leave him another cooler full of sandwiches on his doormat the next day. 

You didn’t consider that he might think you’d make it a habit. Perhaps that’s partially on you for not leaving a note on the cooler the first time to explain that it was just a one-off; just a way to apologize for being less than chipper around him. But instead of shrugging it off, you come home after a long day to find him standing right outside your apartment, arms crossed over his chest, thick biceps straining against his sweat-stained shirt. 

“Open the door,” Simon commands, nostrils flaring as he glares down at you. He jerks his head towards your door when you just frown, not following. “Been starving here waiting for you to show up.”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You’re at a loss for words, never mind that your whole job involves talking. He leaves you speechless though. 

Simon doesn’t move when you step close enough to unlock the door. You try to keep your body angled away so as not to brush up against him, but it’s inevitable. He doesn’t move when the door opens either, forcing you to squeeze by him. 

He goes straight to the kitchen and drags a chair out, letting it scrape across the floor like men always do before taking a seat. You follow after him nervously, apprehensive at having a man in your space. Not just a man, but Simon Riley. It feels sacrilege—not like he has no right being in your space, but you can’t imagine him here, sitting at your tiny dining room table like he comes over for dinner every Sunday. 

When he catches you standing under the archway to the kitchen just staring at him, he barks, “Well?”

That has you scurrying over to the fridge to pull out the cold cuts and pickled red onions. There’s a loaf of bread already on the counter, the bag twisted and tucked underneath because you had to leave in a rush this morning. You don’t know half of what you pile on the sandwiches, but whatever you serve him must satisfy him because Simon digs in with gusto, finishing the plate off in only a few bites while you wash the cutlery in the sink. You watch him out of the corner of your eye the whole while.

He leaves not too long after that, only a light warning for you to not miss tomorrow’s lunch before heading back over to his own apartment. You don’t even get a word in edgewise. 

It becomes something of a routine after that and not one you have any control over. Every night before bed, you leave him a cooler full of sandwiches and other things like cut up fruit or slices of cheese on his doormat, and every afternoon you rock up to him waiting on your doorstep, demanding to be let in. 

He takes to giving you a wet kiss before he leaves, all tongue and his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. When you try to cover his mouth with your hand, he nips at your fingers until you move them and let him slip you some tongue. 

The day you make him a casserole for supper, he bends you over the back of your couch and eats you out. Simon eats like a man starving, glutting himself on the wetness between your legs, licking even over the furl of your asshole and chuckling under his breath when you squeal and flail, your toes just brushing against the floor. 

In the aftermath, you sit panting in his lap while he eats. He gets up only briefly to get the bowl of strawberries and cream you left chilling in the fridge before lifting you up and putting you right back in his lap. You stare bleary-eyed when he holds a finger covered in cream up to your lips.

“Clean me up, pet,” he says, then watches you with half-lidded eyes while you lick his finger clean. 

He makes you suck his fingers too, to keep things even. He does it when you’re angled half off the bed, thick digits stuffed down your throat until your eyes leak big, fat tears that he licks away, hungry for those too. The man is always hungry, always keen to fill his belly. 

The arrangement continues on long enough to become normal, even routine. Simon shows up at your door every day after work waiting to be fed, and then makes you come a couple times before he leaves, a little thank you to repay you for the food. He never really says all that much when he comes around, not a conversationalist of a man. His preference is to eat, fuck, and leave, which you’re happy to accommodate, still too tongue-tied yourself to broach a real conversation. 

That’s all before he starts helping himself to your bed for a quick nap after a big supper. Then for naps that turn into a full night’s sleep, snoring like a chainsaw under the covers with you tucked under his arm, naked breasts pressed against his side, keeping you awake most of the night until you pass out somewhere around one A.M. 

Just as you suspected, Simon gets up at around four or five to be at the jobsite on time, but at your place, he gets up a bit earlier to help himself to breakfast. He doesn't even bother waking you up, just turns you over onto your tummy and spreads your legs before sinking his dick into where you're still stretched out from the night before. If you wake up or squirm, he just leans down and murmurs, “S'alright, pet…just need a pick me up before work. Go back to sleep, you’re okay,” and ruts between your thighs until he comes inside you and leaves you all wet in bed with one last messy kiss to your temple. 

The door slams shut on his way out. 

Because you feed him, he keeps coming back. The workday passes in a blur: attendance, a spelling test, recess, maths in the afternoon, and then you’re driving home in the same daze that has you slamming on the brakes before rear ending an old woman who stopped two cars behind the truck at the redlight ahead. 

You’re home earlier than him for a change, so you unlock the door quickly while there’s still a chance to avoid him. No such luck. When Simon turns up, he pounds on the door until you let him in. And you do. 

It’s a wonder you haven’t come apart at the seams, horny and pent up after this morning. You were too sleepy to come after all, rode hard and put away wet. Still, you flit nervously around the apartment, looking everywhere but at him. 

He always smells rich after working all day in the sun, like sweat and dirt. It's not a particularly nice smell, but it still kind of gets you going. He goes for a shower and then collapses on the couch after, beckoning you over to you crawl into his lap and grind yourself on his thigh because he knows of course. Simon can probably smell it on you, the ache. He shushes you when you whine about it, big hands fitting around your hips and pressing you down until your clit rubs deliciously against the muscle of his thigh and your head goes cloudy, cheek mushed against the pillow of his chest. 

When you come, Simon tips your chin up with his knuckle and murmurs, “Knickers off, love. Haven’t got my fill.”

He feeds you your own slick from his fingers when he kneels on the floor in front of the couch, your legs draped over his shoulders. Your fingers scratch helplessly over shorn blond hair, buzzed almost to the scalp. It’s prickly under your fingertips. 

Simon’s a messy eater. Your slick dribbles down his lips and glistens on his chin. It makes the blood roar under your skin, feverishly hot. 

“Please, Simon,” you whine, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “It hurts.”

You feel his lips quirk up against the folds of your pussy, the flat of his tongue running up the seam and flicking over your clit. He chuckles when your hips jerk. “Greedy aren’t you, pet? Didn’t even say thank you for getting on my knees.”

“You didn’t make me come!”

His voice borders on mocking when he coos, “Poor little thing. It’s gonna be a lot longer ‘til she gets to come if you don’t say thank you.”

Your brain goes staticy, fingers twitching on his scalp. His words echo back in your head. It’s rubbish, is what it is. All this time and he’s never said thank you once for the countless meals you’ve fed him. Indignation bubbles up in you, rising to the surface like fat on the cream, and you raise a hand to rub the tears from your eyes, a harsh rebuke on the tip of your tongue.

The protest dies on your lips when he meets your gaze. It’s hungrier than anything you’ve ever seen. Whatever animal lives under his skin stares back at you with black eyes, drool leaking from its jowls. It’s mindless, intent only on slaking its hunger. Filling its empty belly. And it is not afraid of you anymore. It knows you’ll feed it until it’s full. It knows you won’t let it go hungry anymore. 

So, always leery of the bigger animal in the room, you mumble out a chest-thick, “Thank you,” and shiver when he grins. 

There’s a reason they tell you not to feed strays. They often come back for more.

[milfgyuu]

Hot Wheels [M] Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader Tags: 15.9k, 90's AU, Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+ Collab: Now That's 90's Summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf (consensual) sex, fingering, low-key breast play, making out (in public), hickey talk, Mingyu is hung (obvs), he's also portrayed as 'taller' than the mc in interactions, mild to moderate language use, gyu's roomies are sloshed at the end (unrelated to smut or main characters), that should cover all the bases...

Fridays at the roller rink are always busy but this is the first official skate-night of Summer Time ‘99 and it’s like opening day all over again. The schools let out just a few hours ago, releasing hoards of teenagers with pent-up energy loose on your small town and there is a line out the door waiting to get into Wheelies to jump-start their next few months of freedom.

Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.

For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while. 

As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content. 

After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth. 

“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”

He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”

Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”

“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”

“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”

“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”

At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”

“Including you?”

Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.

Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.

You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.

As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.

You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty. 

He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.

In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder. 

Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.

“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”

Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.

Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.

When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”

You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you. 

“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”

Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach. 

“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”

He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”

Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.

You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”

He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.

“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”

“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”

At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”

When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels. 

“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”

His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”

The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”

“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.

The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”

Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.

You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”

“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”

Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”

The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”

He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”

You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”

The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”

You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”

The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”

Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”

“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people. 

You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”

The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face. 

His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”

Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see. 

There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing. 

“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.

You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”

He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”

“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”

Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”

Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.

 “You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”

He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’. 

It’s comical, honestly. 

Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot. 

“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”

Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”

Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?”

He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”

“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”

For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.

He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”

He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”

Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are. 

The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit. 

The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time. 

You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry. 

Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.

A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care

Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.

You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings. 

A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”

That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.

“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”

“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”

Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”

Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point. 

“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.

“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”

“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…

Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.

He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.

“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.

It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you. 

You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief. 

“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”

Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.

Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.

When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it. 

That leaves the very front or the very back. 

You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?” 

He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”

Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”

“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle. 

The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put. 

PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.

Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”

“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”

“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”

You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half. 

Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you. 

Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.

Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.

Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first. 

It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.  

Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward. 

It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.

You hope that you feel natural to him too.

He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that. 

Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh. 

Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs. 

“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”

You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”

He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”

You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”

He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.

Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours. 

Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.

From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying. 

Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.

The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.

He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses. 

When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”

Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”

He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey. 

Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”

You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out. 

The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive. 

Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges. 

You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.

“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”

It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”

You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.

“Have you always this charming?”

“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”

His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”

“One person…that’s all you got?”

Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”

After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore. 

So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question. 

Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.

Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years. 

The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”

“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”

“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”

Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs. 

“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing,  for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”

“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too. 

You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.

“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”

“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you. 

“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”

Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”

He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”

He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”

“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”

It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in. 

First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly. 

It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.

Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back. 

“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”

“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.

“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”

“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”

“Oh?”

He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”

“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.

“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.

“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”

He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”

“Do what you have to do I suppos-”

“Niiccceee hickey.”

You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”

Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”

“What thing?” 

Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape. 

You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”

Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”

“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.

He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?” 

Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”

“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”

“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.

Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”

“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”

Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”

Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.

“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”

“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.

“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”

“Who’s a freak?”

All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin. 

“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.” 

You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering. 

“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”

Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-” 

“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door. 

Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”

“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”

Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.

Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”

Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”

When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.

“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.

Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker. 

Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”

He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”

“Make a move tonight?”

Mingyu’s mouth pops open. “Oh,” he blinks, “You read minds too?”

Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”

Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”

He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”

“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”

Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.

He’s handed out enough advice for one night.

You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention. 

It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants. 

He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear. 

The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties. 

Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them. 

Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”

You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”

Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.

“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”

“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”

“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”

It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”

Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”

Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”

….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.

You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears. 

Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”

“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”

You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”

He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”

“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”

He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.

It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns. 

“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”

“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”

“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”

Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it. 

“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”

“Can’t say I have. What about you?”

Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”

He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”

“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.

“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.

“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”

The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”

“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”

He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.

As luck has it, you decide for him.

“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”

Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”

“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”

“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”

You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”

“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”

It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time. 

It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door. 

Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”

Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers. 

Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”

You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”

You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”

He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”

“You read Cosmo?” 

He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”

“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.

Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”

You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later. 

Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space. 

He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.

The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you. 

“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.” 

Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”

He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back. 

Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.  

“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”

“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”

“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”

Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over. 

His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him. 

You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys. 

Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle. 

The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go. 

A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively. 

Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel. 

Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet. 

Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation. 

“You like that, huh?”

It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.

“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”

You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…

Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”

At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.

His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture. 

You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.

It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.

Hopefully.

Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process. 

“That was very smooth.”

You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.

“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”

Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours. 

He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again. 

Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.

He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk. 

It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone. 

You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind. 

Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red. 

It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon. 

You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”

He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”

Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.

Move over Marky Mark. 

You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…

And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.

When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”

You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt. 

It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.

One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.

Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs. 

Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”

“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand. 

The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”

The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”

“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”

That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat. 

The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”

Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.

You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it. 

Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper. 

Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper. 

He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.

His body is on an entirely different page. 

Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way. 

So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.

“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.

Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.

The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy. 

It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes. 

Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up. 

Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds. 

With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all. 

Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip. 

He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do. 

“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”

You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare. 

“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”

“How good?” he smirks. 

With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”

He’s on top of the world. 

“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”

“Will you stop when I do?”

“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”

You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.

“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”

Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”

“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.

He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”

Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”

He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”

Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him. 

The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it. 

Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.

As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?

“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”

“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”

You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”

“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”

“Swing the spinnnning stem~”

Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.

You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way. 

The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”

Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”

Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”

 “Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”

He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”

They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”

And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”

And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes. 

He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting. 

“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”

“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”

Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”

Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”

Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends. 

“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”

“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.

“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”

Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’

Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you. 

Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”

You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”

Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing. 

“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”

“I can try to find you som-”

You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.

“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”

Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”

“I like them,” you grin.

His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”

You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”

Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”

You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”

“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”

“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”

He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”

Oh? Good to know. “Whatever you say, Coach.”

Thanks for reading! 💖

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→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[yanaromanov]

fuck me, i’m famous

｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

paring: rockstar!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: when your boyfriend drags you along to a rock concert of a band you barely know, and then ceremoniously dumps you to go out with his friends after, it feels like your night can’t get any worse. thankfully, the guitarist of the band seems to take a particular interest in you and offers you an alternative offer on how to spend your night that seems just too good to refuse.

warning(s): cheating (r has a bf), but he’s a shitty bf, oc male character, band jargon that may or may not be correct, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of flirting, slight mention of crystals, swearing, many pet names, first time with a woman, smut, fingering, thigh riding, masturbation, scissoring, multiple orgasms, hickeys, natasha talking you through things, lots of praise, slight degradation (?), minors dni.

authors note: okay i feel like this is kinda bad and messy but i also spent too much time on it not to post. i’m still getting used to writing smut and haven’t wrote anything like this before so i hope it’s okay 😭😭 the end is also rushed so plz just ignore that :))

wc: 12.2K words

You've seen enough books and movies to know how things are supposed to go. How that perfect moment comes, when the pieces fall into place and you suddenly realize this is what you're meant to do, what you've always meant to do. But you've also lived a life long enough to know it never actually happens. In truth, it's all a bunch of bullshit.

There's never such thing as love at first sight, no moment where the world freezes on everyone except you and music plays in slow motion in the background, your eyes falling on that one person through the crowd that you just know your heart only beats for. In real life, the cards just don't fall like that. There's too many shitty people and grievous circumstances for the true movie dream to ever be lived, forever just a piece of fiction one can only fantasize of.

You know all this, understand it to be true. And yet, one hot Summer night, it feels like it all melts away and that fairy tale veil falls down right in front of your very own eyes.

It's not slow when it happens, not like in the movies. It's fast and loud and hot and sweaty. The music around you blares into your ears, bodies beside you screaming out lyrics you barely know. In the crowded space, you at least try to have a good time, try to mimic your boyfriend's energy as he dances and sings beside you, but you know its all futile. You want to leave. Truly, never wanted to come in the first place, but had done for him, for all his pleas and begs. You'll love it, I promise. Please come, baby, please.

The lights are hurting your eyes, the fog burning at your irises. Everyone is far too close to you, strangers pressing up against your sides from the front row section your boyfriend, Tyler, had demanded you needed. You don't feel it right all the back there. You need to be close to feel it in your bones. You feel a little sick.

And then that's when it happens. Body jostling against the side of the raised stage, ears ringing from being far too close to the speakers, that's when your own movie moment finally crashes into you. It's quick, so quick you don't even take notice till a few seconds after it happens. As your eyes raise to the band playing in front of you, they graze over each of the members. The brunette hugging the microphone center stage; the other behind hammering into a black drum set; the tall blonde whose fingers dance over the fretboard of a blue bass; and then finally, the woman playing an electric guitar stage right the same color as her fiery red hair. When you meet her eye it's like one of those moments back in high school, when you're accidentally caught making eye contact with someone across the class. But this time, unlike any time with your classmates, the redhead doesn't screw her face up, passing you a dirty look. What the fuck are you looking at? Instead, she winks.

Seconds later her gaze is gone, returned to the vibrating audience, and it takes you just about as much time to even acknowledge what had just happened. It seems fake, like a miscommunication in the space of a blink. Surely you must be imagining things, the heat in the room finally getting to you. But no, you're so sure of it. So set on what you've seen. A few moments later, it's like it's confirmed. The redhead's sights turn back on you, looking down into the pit of bodies where you stand. This time she holds, her eyes trained to yours as she continues to pluck the strings of her guitar. A small smirk stretches across painted lips, teeth plunging down into plump flesh. The music doesn't slow like it does in the movies. In fact, it seems almost louder than ever as you hold contact with the redhead's playful gaze. And when she winks again, chin jutting in your direction, you know it's you she's looking at.

You feel a little too seen, and not so much in a good way. You don't feel that special moment you read about in books, the time you are the chosen one across the sea of other bodies, a spark lighting in your heart at the romanticism of it all. It actually only drives one question in to your head; why the fuck is she looking at me?

You duck your eyes away, looking to the floor and the scuffed boots on your feet. There's a half-full cup of water a few inches in front of you. You watch as dancing feet almost collide with it, surely only seconds a way from being spilled. It holds your attention for a long time, so long your boyfriend is grasping at your cheek to check you're alright. You smile the way you always seem to do. Lips painting a picture of 'yes, I'm fine', while your brain screams out in contradicting protest. How much longer till this thing is done? My fucking head hurts.

When the final song does eventually roll around, you're too lost in your own thoughts to even care. The redhead guitarist has made eye contact with you three more times since you'd first noticed. If there was any doubt you had she wasn't seeking you out, it was surely dissipated now. Each time your eyeline had actually raised to the stage in front of you, it was like the woman's eyes were already waiting for you.

Trying to hold back the dizziness from gazing down at the floor, you had tried to remember the redhead's name. In no offence to the band, or their adoring fans lined up behind you, you actually didn't know of them much at all. Sure, you've heard their songs blasted through your boyfriend's speakers, saw their faces on cassettes and cd's dumped around your apartment, but you've never truly been a follower of the band Crimson Coven. You try to rack your brain of the knowledge you have, of every rant your boyfriend has been on that you so casually zone out from. The lead singer's name is Wanda, you know that much. She seems to be his favourite from the amount of things you've heard him rattle on. She's never even taken singing lessons. She's actually European, isn't that sick? Did you know she has a twin brother? You should do your makeup like her, babe.

The redhead has you thrown for a loop though. There are two names swimming in your head, though you're pretty sure the drummer is the one named Maria and Carol doesn't seem to fit the guitarist stood on the right. For the life of you it seems you can't draw the name from your head. It stays that way until the concert is finishing, stood watching the four women walking off stage, screaming out "thank you's" and collecting thrown objects on to the small stage, all the while you notice a certain member's eyes still trained on you. You simply turn away and grab on to Tyler’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dissipating crowd. God, you can't wait to get home.

The line to the bathroom is a slight roadblock in your plan. It's not torturously long by any means, but it still has you stood outside pressing your thighs together as you try desperately to hold in the three cans of beer you'd drank before the gig had began. You're regretting that decision now as the line filters slowly into the venue's singular women's bathroom. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that? If it weren't for the half hour journey you had back to your place, you would have considered just holding it, but if the pain in your stomach were any indication, you weren't going to make it that far.

When it's finally your turn, you all but run into the cubicle. It's quieter in there, a barricade between the groups of people who’ve chosen to stay to socialize in the venue's lounge and bar area. The stall is not only a relief for your full bladder, but also your pounding head. You stay in there longer than what's needed, most likely angering the girls waiting outside, but you just can't help it. It's cool and quiet and a desperate contrast to the overstimulating room you'd just spent the last two hours in. After washing your hands, you take the time to check up on your makeup, licking the tip of your finger to fix the slightly smudged liner of your eyes. All in all, you're pretty intact considering the circumstances. A pleasing picture that will soon be washed away as you head home for a night of constant reiterations of the concert you'd just experienced.

You're almost rolling your eyes already at the thought, so easily predicting your boyfriend's behavior for the next several hours. It's this state of disapproval that blinds you as you open the door to the bathroom, not noticing the taller woman standing there before she's backing you up into the stall.

You stumble slightly as the presence walks towards you, your eyes adjusting to the other person who has suddenly joined you in the room. For a moment their back is turned, locking the door to the stall before their face is revealed to you. You curse a little under your breath when you recognise the features.

"There you are. God, do you know hard it was to track you down? Slipped right in here before I could get to ya."

The redhead in front of you breathes out her words, smiling down at you in a way that flips your stomach. It's in that moments everything truly comes crashing down. Every doubt you had, every belief that things like this don't happen in real life is swept away as the famous guitarist stands in front of you. It really was you she was looking at from the stage and now she'd tracked you down. Pinned you into a bathroom stall as she looks down on your figure with her eyes wide, almost drunk. "Uhm, hi?" Is all you manage to say, the entirety of the situation still comprehending itself in your mind.

The redhead in front of you smirks widely as she responds. "Hi." It's then that it hits you, the name you couldn't pinpoint earlier. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Lead guitarist of Crimson Coven. You're trying to remember anything Tyler might have said about her when she takes another step in your direction.

"Wow," she breathes, almost to herself. "You're even prettier up close." Her eyes seem to trace over your whole figure, her tongue playing with the inside of her cheek. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Uhm...thank you?" you stutter back, not entirely sure of how you're supposed to act in this situation. You're still trying to get over the shock of her pushing you back into the bathroom before you'd tried to leave. Not sure what else to do, your own eyes trail over the star stood ahead of you. She's still wearing her outfit from her performance; an old looking graphic tee tucked into a pair of black denim shorts. The boots on her feet have silver embellishments that match perfectly with the necklaces around her neck and many rings adorning her fingers. Her lips are painted a shade of faded red that both contrasts and yet somehow works perfectly with her hair, curled and messy around her shoulders. As you look over her, the thought of why your boyfriend may just like her band so much crosses your mind. She really was hot as shit.

But despite her looks, there's still an anxiety bubbling in your chest at this situation. It’s probably not often people could get this close to the star, let alone be held up in a room alone with her. Yet your ears are still ringing and the only true wish crossing your mind's eye is your bed. So, disappointing every girl who'd rather be in your place, you simply clear your throat as you gesture mindlessly to the door behind her. "I think there's people waiting outside to use this cubicle."

The rockstar cocks her head, smirking back. "Oh yeah?" She shrugs, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door. "I'm sure they'd be fine waiting. Didn't mind letting me cut through the line." When she smiles back at you, you assume the look in her eye is a mirror of how a predator looks at its prey. You find your lip between your teeth as you look back, very aware of just how much time you'd already spent in this bathroom and how there was a lot of people stood outside who would be becoming increasingly more annoyed at the occupied status, rockstar be damned. Though her attitude remains relaxed, the redhead in front of you seems to pick up on your hesitation because she lets out a low sigh. "Look, if you're really that bothered why don't don't we leave and your pretty ass can join me backstage?"

She takes another step towards you, eyes darkening a they take in your figure. You swallow the saliva in your mouth in an attempt to cool the burn in your stomach. "Sorry-I um-I have a boyfriend," you manage to stutter out, taken aback by her advances. She definitely was hitting on you, that much was clear now, but you knew that Tyler would be waiting for you somewhere, most likely wondering why the fuck you were taking so long to pee.

When your words ring out, its like the redhead's brain short circuits. She almost freezes, only her brows moving to pull into a deep frown. "Shit," she murmurs. "Really?"

You nod in response, fingers playing with the back of your shirt. "Yeah." The redhead looks awfully confused, her gaze trailing over you as if there's something she's missed. When her eyes meet yours once more, its like your answer is a complete mystery to her, like there's something she saw you must have missed in your own reflection. You try to brush it off, not delving into whatever thoughts must be running through the star's head. Instead you just clear your throat again, pointing to the door. "He's um- probably waiting for me."

A tight smile passes across your lips as you slowly move towards the door. The redhead lets you go, ever so slightly brushing past her arm without another word said. You reach for the handle of the door, turning it open before leaving the rockstar behind to wallow in whatever confusion or disappointment runs through her head. You just want to find Tyler and get the hell out of there.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom stall, it feels even warmer than it had before. Though now you're not entirely sure if it's just the air, or also the blood you can feel coursing through your cheeks. You try your best to brush it off, looking around the space to try and locate wherever your boyfriend might have wondered off to. Walking past the line of remaining girls, you have to try ignore their passing stares. Most are likely from your extended use of the bathroom, holding them up even further, but you can't help but feel at least a few are thinking about whatever happened between you and Natasha in that stall and why on earth you had the nerve to leave such an opportunity unfulfilled.

Trying to leave the entire interaction behind, you move to the main area of the venue lounge to try find your boyfriend so you can finally head home. It takes you a good few minutes of searching through the crowds before you spy him across the way, stood talking with all of his friends that he'd brought along to the concert.

"Tyler," you call, passing through bodies to get to him. When he doesn't seem to hear you, you shout again. "Tyler!"

Finally, he turns around, a look of recognition passing over his face as you appear by his side. "Oh there you are, babe," he says. "Where the hell did you go?"

"I was just-I was peeing," you reply, looking around sheepishly at the group of men all staring down at you. It wasn't that you didn't like Tyler's friends per se, it was more so they just weren't your type of people. Most times they’re around, you manage to skilfully skirt around them until a time when they've all gone back home.

Tyler scoffs a little at your comment. "You were gone for like half an hour." He laughs, gesturing to the group as they all join in.

"Yeah. Um-the line was long," you say, trying to avoid the annoyance creeping up your spine as well as skirt around the encounter you'd had just moments ago. Partially because you were still trying to wrap your head around it but also because you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say about what happened. Instead, you just let out a small sigh. "Can we just go home now?"

"Oh actually," Tyler starts. "We were thinking of hitting up a few bars before we went home."

The words hit you like a blast of hot air, unable to deny the feeling of annoyance brewing under your skin. Still, you try to remain sweet in hopes he'll seek pity on you. "Tyler, please," you reply. "I'm tired, can't we just-"

"You don't have to come."

He cuts you off quickly, halting the words in your throat. The attitude you can hear in his voice almost immediately breaks the facade of kindness you were putting on. "Excuse me?"

Tyler shrugs, having the nerve to look annoyed, like you're the one being unreasonable here. "Just call a cab home. You'll be fine." And with that it seems he's had enough of the conversation, turning his shoulders away as he beckons his group to follow.

"No, Tyler wait," you try, but he continues to move away. The only thing you receive is him quickly turning over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye as he promises to see you later.

"Tyler!" You yell but it's futile, the image of your boyfriend already swallowed up by the crowd. "Fuck."

For the second time tonight it feels like you have no idea how to react. You swivel around on the spot, like a lost kid in a grocery store. Some part of you can't believe he would just leave you like that, but then the other part understands it's him all over. Stupid selfish prick.

Far past being annoyed at the night's events, you reach for the phone buried in your jacket pocket, determined to just do as you were told and order a cab home. When the screen returns to you black, the only image your own reflection staring back at you even as you press the power button repeatedly, a long string of curses escape your lips. Stupid fucking phones and their stupid ass batteries. And of course tonight had to be the night you had forgone your charger, leaving you with just a useless weight of metal that you slip back into your pocket. Just my fucking luck.

For a moment, you're stuck on what to do, how to find a way home, but then your eyes fall on the bar across the room. You make your way through the crowd, squeezing past people and mumbling half-assed 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' until you eventually reach the bar. When you do, the bartender walks over to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you could call me a cab?" you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the venue's loud music.

The bartender furrows his brow. "What?"

"A cab," you repeat, leaning in further to his ear. "Can you call me a cab, please? My phone is dead."

"Oh, I can't sorry," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "Phone is broken."

"What? Can't you use your mobile or-"

"Not while I'm on shift."

He shrugs again. You scoff.

"Please. I really need to get home."

"Sorry," the bartender responds finally, turning away to move towards another customer down the bar.

You watch him go, scowling. When he starts to talk to someone else, asking for their order, another waterfall of curses fall from your tongue. How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?

"Hey gorgeous."

The voice all but pulls you from your thoughts and to the right, dragging you away from the harsh stare you were given the unhelpful bartender. When your eyes fall to the person who had sidled up beside you, a small sigh slips out, your eyes rolling in their sockets.

"Wow," the redhead responds, easily picking up on your bad attitude. She holds her hands up. "Sorry to offend."

You look back at the rockstar, at Natasha. It seems she's found you again in a moment where you want nothing more than to find a way out of there. Though despite your frustration, you know it's not her fault, that she isn't the one controlling the universe so adamant on your downfall tonight. So, you force yourself to soften your expression as you turn back to her. "No. No, I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It's just- I'm trying to get a cab home but apparently their phone is broken." You gesture towards the bar, displaying the utter uselessness of its bartender with the look on your face.

Natasha seems to take a little amusement in your frustration, the faintest of a smile appearing on her face. "You ain't got your own phone to call a cab?" The mobile is received from your pocket, quickly held up by your hand as you flash the dead device to the redhead opposite. She sighs, tilting her head back. "Ah, I see. What about that boyfriend of yours? Couldn't he call you a cab?"

You're a little surprised to hear her mention that piece of information, even if you'd only shared it with her minutes before in the bathroom stall. The mention of his presence is enough to drag the long sigh from your chest as you stare down at the bar. "Not when he's the reason I need one."

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that one."

Her words draw your eyes back to her, briefly grazing over her face before you respond. "He left with his friends. Gone off to some other bar. Told me to phone a cab home."

Natasha lets out a breath of air. "Dickhead." You watch her as she takes a sip from the beer in her hand, trying not to notice the way her lips look pressed against the top of the bottle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait around on assholes like that."

And then there's that same heat you felt in the bathroom, creeping up your cheeks unwelcome. You turn away again as you shrug in an attempt to hide it. "He's not that bad-" "Sure," Natasha cuts you off before you can even finish your explanation. In truth, you weren't even sure what else you were going to say, what redeeming qualities you could draw about the boy who'd left you stranded in the city to go get drunk with his friends. Instead you just turn to the woman sat beside you, only shallowly realising how she is in fact a minor celebrity and that a lot of the people around were probably looking over at the pair of you. But when Natasha smiles and leans in, it's like it all disappears. "Alright, lemme tell you this. You let me buy you one drink and I'll phone you a taxi home."

You look back at the rockstar sat across from you, letting her words settle into your mind. This close you can once again tell just how beautiful she is, how any girl in this room would pay good money to be where you are right now. But you don't want to be that kind of girl, the kind that chases after someone just because they have a little bit of fame. Nevertheless, there is something about the redhead that draws you in. Maybe it's the layers of piercings you can see stacking her ears, or the patchwork of tatoos lining her exposed arms. Whatever it is, something about her is making you want to follow whatever she says. Furthermore, her offer is one that is rather too good to refuse. After a moment, you sigh as you nod your head. "Fine. One drink." Natasha Romanoff smirks, calling the bartender over almost immediately with two fingers. It's the same tilted smile you had seen her passing you from across the stage, though now you can take notice of the small dimple that appears on her cheek when those lips pull taught. Everything about this encounter was setting something alight inside you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

When your drink finally arrives - curtesy of a different bartender - you decidedly join the rockstar on the stools lined up against the bar. The leather is sticky and uncomfortable against the exposed skin under your skirt. Still, you ignore it as you look over at the redhead to your right, slowly taking a sip of the cocktail you'd ordered as you get the opportunity to voice the question that's been on your mind for the last couple hours. "Why were you looking at me on stage?"

"Why'd you think?" Natasha smirks the widest you've seen all night, licking her bottom lip as she turns to you. "I thought maybe you and I could have some fun but…you had to be little miss taken." You try not to react to her words, or moreover the way her eyes drag themselves over your body, particularly your exposed thighs against the red leather of the barstool. "Maybe we could still have some fun yet tho, hm?" Natasha finishes, her eyes returning to yours. Even in the dim light of the bar you can tell they're blown out, pupils wide as they drink you in.

You let out a sigh. "Listen, in the nicest way possible, I don't actually really know who you are and I don't know about this whole thing you're doing, if it's normal but-"

"Wait," Natasha cuts you off. "You were in the front row and don't know who I am?"

You feel a little bashful as you shrug your shoulders. "I mean- I kinda do, I guess. I mean- I've listened to a few of your band's songs but I'm not like- a fan or anything."

"Not a fan?" Natasha breathes, reaching to take another sip of her drink with an amused expression. "So tell me, how does a girl who's not a fan end up hugging the stage all night?"

You take a sip of your own cocktail before you reply. "My boyfriend bought the tickets."

"Ah there it is," Natasha nods. "The boyfriend yet again." She turns in her chair, legs moving to dangle off the side. "You know, he's not really our target demographic."

You know exactly what she's talking about, almost too quickly. It was rather obvious to you that Crimson Coven was not a band trying to attract straight men, even if they did flock to them over their members' good looks. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that," you reply, sipping on your drink.

One of the redhead's brows raises, eyes tracing over your face. "What's that one saying?" she ask, swirling the bottle in her hands. "Takes one to know one?" You feel the saliva pool in your throat as she looks back at you, smirk wider than ever. Swallowing harshly, you take a rather big swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Natasha simply breathes out a laugh. "I think you're maybe not as you first seem, little lady." Right then there's a look that passes between you, your eyes wide and questioning, Natasha's dark and hooded. Then her hand is landing on your thigh, just above your knee where the skin is exposed. Her thumb strokes back and forth delicately as she licks her lips. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

There's a strange bubbling inside your stomach, a flutter to your heart. You want to turn and walk right out of there, ditch the rockstar in front of you and try your luck hailing a cab on the street. But part of you notices the shiver her touch sends up your thigh, how her skin is warm against yours in just the right kind of way, how despite your circumstances, just how amazing this moment feels. "Y/N," you reply eventually, swallowing your first instincts to the warm pit of your stomach.

"Y/N," the redhead repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. "I'm-"

"Natasha. I know."

She seems taken aback by your quick answer, cutting off her sentence before she can finish. She frowns slightly back at you. "I thought you said you didn't."

Now it's your turn to raise your brow. "I said I wasn't a fan. Not that I didn't know your name."

"I see," Natasha replies, her voice laced with amusement. She smiles to herself as she sips her beer, turning back with a wide grin. "You know, I've never slept with a Y/N before."

"You sleep with a lot of girls then?"

"I've done the rounds," Natasha shrugs. The nonchalant nature of her reply is enough to have you passing her a displeased look across the bar. She raises her brow, looking back at you. "What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you I'm the virgin mary?"

You want to laugh in response but hold yourself back, entirely aware of the game Natasha is trying to play. "So...what?" you draw out, playing with the rim of your glass. "You want me to be one of your new collectibles?"

"Well maybe if I get lucky."

You turn back to the smirking redhead. "I wouldn't buy a lottery ticket."

And she laughs, like really laughs right into her drink before she takes a sip. When she places it back on the bar, she shakes her head as she turns to look at you with a smirk. "You know most girls flock to my side," she says, raising a brow. "Asking for autographs or pictures."

"I already told you. I don't know that much about your band."

"You're here though, aren't you?" Natasha replies. "You must know some things."

She isn't entirely wrong. Sure, you knew of the things your boyfriend has endlessly droned on about. About Wanda being the one who named the band. Or about Carol and her cat, or Maria and her brief military background. You even knew about Natasha, little sparks in your memory of her coming from Russia or her hair being blonde at some point. It's all stored in the backlog of your brain, hours of knowledge you'd spent years sorting into the dusty compartments of your mind you never cared to look at. Still, there's something now about speaking to Natasha in real time, not hearing about your boyfriend's idealised version of her that feels a little different. Things here feel a little more real.

You don't acknowledge Natasha's question as you take a sip from your drink. "You want me to ask for your autograph?" you ask as you place the glass back down. "Is that it?"

The answer that follows is in such a low register you can barely hear it over the music. "I think we both know what I want."

You look back at Natasha, at her dazzling smirk and messy red hair. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not your girl." A tight smile appears on your lips as you gaze out into the sea of bodies across the room. "Why don't you go find someone else?"

"Why would I when you're the prettiest thing in here?" Natasha's response is quick, almost as quick as the way her eyes divert to to rest if your body. "Hell, I'd go as far as to say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Listen," you sigh. "I appreciate the flattery but-"

"I ain't fucking around if that's what you think," Natasha says quickly, cutting you off. The look in her eye as she scans your face shows how genuine her words feel. "You caught my eye the second I stepped on stage. You're fucking gorgeous, angel. Forgive me if it's a crime to want to see more."

Despite your better instincts, you let out a laugh into your glass. No one has ever been this forward with you before, never complimented you so much to the point you can feel the heat of their words on your skin. Hell, not even Tyler was ever this keen to get you into bed. And you know you shouldn't like it, shouldn't fall for the rockstar's methods, but you can't help but enjoy the praise just a little bit.

That feeling is soon quashed however when your temple gives a sudden jolt of pain. You wince slightly, reminded of the too-loud atmosphere you'd spent the last few hours in. The alcohol probably wasn't helping much either.

"What's wrong?"

You're a little surprised when Natasha speaks, unaware of her having noticed your small flinch at the pain. You simply shake your head in response, smiling back at her. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"You know," the rockstar replies quickly. "It's cooler backstage. Quieter too." You must give her a look laced with poison because she holds her hands up in defence once again, though this time smirking back at you. "Hey, Im just saying."

Despite your glare, you're still interested in the redhead sat opposite you. It's like even with her forward approach, you can't help but be drawn to some part of her. You try to avoid the smile that creeps back on to your face as you look back into her eyes. "Does this routine usually work for you?"

Natasha chuckles to herself before leaning in to speak. "Honey, by now I usually have a girl screaming my name as she rides my face."

It's now you're entirely glad of the dimness in the room, hiding the flushed state that rises in your throat and heats up your cheeks. You can feel yourself getting worked up by Natasha's bold statement, unsure of what to do with yourself or how to respond. In doubt of yourself, you simply reach for the cocktail glass in front of you and down the rest of the liquid. It burns a little going down but you find you don't mind it. Anything to take away from the feeling you can recognise brewing in your stomach.

You can just about feel Natasha's smirk as much as you can see it, pressing into the side of your head as she watches you become flustered, clearly enjoying the effect she is having on you. "Here," she says, adjusting herself in the chair. "Let me buy you another one."

You turn to meet her eye, holding it harshly. "I said one drink."

That smirk remains for a long while as Natasha just looks back at you, not answering for a few passing moments. It even stays as she lifts one of her arms, arching it so it comes to rest on the back of your barstool, officially caging in your conversation. "Alright," she drawls, her body leaning in towards yours. "Look at it like this. I can buy you another drink and we can talk some more. Maybe think about heading backstage, get you somewhere quieter. Or..." The redhead licks her licks, pausing as she angles her head. "I can phone you that cab now and you can mope in the backseat till you get home. Then, stumble into your cold apartment alone and just wait for your drunk boyfriend to get home and sidle up next to you in bed."

The blatant look on Natasha's face is a good representation of how you feel about the whole situation she's proposed. The thought of dealing with Tyler later is enough to have you rolling your eyes, already imagining his drunken state reaching out for you and wiping wet kisses along your neck, stinking of booze and the remaining perfume of whatever girl he's been chatting up at the bar. It's almost like a routine you've both fallen into, simply ignoring it every time until without fail, it'll happen again.

And maybe tonight you're done with it. Maybe tonight is the night you don't want to have to deal with him anymore, to hear him talk about himself for hours on end like you don't even exist. It's partially the thought of finally letting that go that pulls you in the direction you choose, but it's also largely down to the way you can feel Natasha pressing in closer, her face moving just inches from yours as her lips press up against your ear. Somehow, it's like you can even feel her smirking as her lips barely graze the skin beside your face. "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."

Maybe it is that that finally does it for you, the shiver of goosebumps running down your spine as you still feel the redhead's hand grazing your thigh. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the heat finally getting to you, or the alcohol hitting your head. It could be any of those, or maybe combination of them all. Whatever your brain decides to settle on as a reason, it doesn't really matter because within seconds, you're calling over the bartender for another drink, allowing yourself to fall into whatever rabbit hole Natasha Romanoff is offering you.

"I knew I'd like you, Y/N," the redhead whispers close, grinning widely at your acceptance. You don't say anything in response until the bartender is placing your vodka coke on the bar. And even then, just as you reach for the glass, Natasha is diverging any words you may have spoken as she grabs hold of your hand. "Come on," she calls and it's a challenge not to spill any of the drink as the redhead quickly begins to pull you from the bar.

"Natasha, wait-" you try to respond, not entirely sure of where this might be going, but the star is quickly cutting you off as she presses her lips together.

"Shh," she drags, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's okay, angel. It's better back here, I promise."

Something in you gives in because you let her drag you through the crowds of the room, trying desperately not to spill the beverage in your hands. You notice on the way a few recognising faces that glance at Natasha, then almost turn a little sour as they fall onto you. You only get the chance to wonder about their jealousy for a few moments before Natasha has pulled you away from everyone entirely, slipping you through a door into a quiet corridor. And then, after turning a few corners and dodging a few stacks of equipment crates, she pulls you through another door into an entirely empty room.

It's only then does the redhead finally release your hand, letting you roam free as she crosses to sit on one of the sofas positioned within the room. Beside them, there's stacks of band equipment, most of which you don't quite recognise. The red guitar on the stand is easy, and the set of drumsticks lying on a table, but the speakers and wires sit in a valley of other items you probably couldn't name if you tried.

There are scatterings of personality throughout the space; a leather jacket thrown over a couch, an ashtray of old cigarettes on a coffee table, some cards laying close beside it. And for a moment you wonder if this is what Natasha Romanoff's life is like. Backrooms full of band equipment, roaring crowds that call out her name. An endless supply of money and booze and cigarettes and girls. It's so so far away from the reality that you live that it can't help but be a little fascinating, this room just a little window into the life of a true rockstar.

The one thing you do very quickly notice however, is the main luxury that the exclusive backstage room seems to have; air conditioning. Beautifully cool air floods your body as soon as the door closes behind you, your headache already cowering back in the quiet atmosphere. You just can't help but let out a long, appreciative sigh at the respite from the hot, humid air outside.

"Told ya." Natasha's voice calls as you see her throw herself down on one of the sofas, so easily slipping into her own space backstage.

You simply roll your eyes as you take a sip of the drink in your hand, surprisingly intact after lugging it across the venue. "So, where are your other friends?" you ask, looking more so at the room full of band things than the member sat on the couch across from you.

Natasha sighs, sitting back as her eyes drag over you. "Probably in rooms close by hoping to get somewhere like me."

"And where exactly is that?" you ask, feet wandering across the opposite side of the room from the redhead. She smirks back at you, watching your every movement.

"Why don't you tell me, gorgeous?"

You can feel yourself smile, finally allowing Natasha's flirting get to you. But instead of replying to her question, you simply run your fingers over the red instrument propped up on the stand beside you. "How long have you played guitar?"

"Fifteen years," Natasha replies quickly, unwavering at your change of topic.

You nod to yourself, looking down at the instrument. "Wow." There isn't anything you've probably committed to for that long, besides maybe school. You take a sip of your drink as you turn to lean on a table against the wall, now facing the still sitting redhead across the way. "How'd you meet the other girls?"

"It's a long story."

You hum in response, waiting just a moment for her to elaborate before you realise she's leaving it up to your own imagination. The two of you hold eye contact as you bring your drink up to your mouth, letting the bubbles pop on your lips as you drink before smoothing it over with your tongue. Theres a specific look in Natasha's eye you can't seem to recognise, almost as if she wants to eat you right where you stand. That smirk widens as you take another sip, your tongue yet again swiping over your lips and the sweet residual soda lingering there. It's then Natasha finally speaks, nodding her head in your direction. "Come here."

And you do. Placing your drink down on the table before pressing yourself up from it, you slowly make your way across the room to where Natasha sits. As you come to stand between her open legs, the rockstar sits up, her body straightening and her hands coming to rest on the sides of your hips. You let them explore a little as Natasha moves, forgoing the layer of your leather jacket and pressing directly beneath the hem on your shirt. Her fingertips feel calloused as they brush the skin beneath it, years of playing guitar coming to create the most amazing sensation as she brushes against your body.

"God, your skin is so soft," Natasha says lowly, almost to herself. It sounds like she's truly mesmerised, her entire being taken over by the feeling of you against her skin. And perhaps some part of you feels it too because without knowing what truly compels you, you find yourself lowering your body down into her lap. Natasha smirks as you come to rest upon her thighs, knees caging either side of her body. She glances down at the way your skirt rides up, only leaving little to the imagination of what lies beneath. Her hands come to rest there, stroking the soft skin of your upper thighs as you lift your arms above her shoulders, letting them fall behind her head as you stare into her eyes. From here, in the new lighting of the backstage room, you can see the sea of green that shrouds her pupils.

For a while you two just drink each other in, your bodies comfortably close as your eyes trace one another. Then, eventually Natasha is talking once more as her fingers reach out towards you. "What's this?"

You follow her eyeline down to your chest, watching the way her fingers have found the crystal hanging around your neck. "Aventurine," your reply.

Natasha smiles as she looks back at your face. "Wanda's the crystal lover so you'll have to enlighten me. What does this one do?"

You shrug a little. "It's brings a few things...Hope, optimism, prosperity. Mostly luck."

The redhead raises a brow as her voice finds that playful tone. "Luck?"

"Mhm," you hum, finding yourself leaning in just slightly closer. "Stone of opportunity."

"So you're telling me it's because of this little rock that I wound up with a pretty girl sat on my lap?"

You hold back a laugh as you search Natasha's smirking face. "Don't call it a rock."

"No?"

You shake your head, humming. "I think it offends them."

The two of you are pressed even closer now, your arms coming crossed behind Natasha's head as she pulls you in. Her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks. "I know some things I could do to offend a lot of people."

The breath you release is shaky as you feel Natasha's hand reach up to cusp your face. She holds your chin, finger so delicate across your skin before she reaches to trace your bottom lip, just momentarily pulling it down with her thumb.

And it's then, with her face pressed so close to yours, green eyes almost black with lust, that you finally let everything go and you lean in. The first kiss is electrifying. Like that first strum of a chord when the guitar kicks in in a song, the bass just rattling your bones and setting your nerves on fire.

Natasha's lips are beautifully soft against yours, a contrast to the harshness of her fingertips you can feel pressing into the side of your face. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and cigarette smoke, sweet but hazy to your senses. The redhead quickly takes a grip of your jaw, angling your head just right so she can drive the kiss deeper. You don't complain as she begins to domineer your mouth, tongue sliding across yours with the skills of a professional.

When you both finally pull back for air, you can only wonder why you forced yourself to wait for this so long. Her touch is like nothing you've ever felt before, your entire body simply set alight with a hunger for her. You look down at the redhead for a moment and Natasha smirks devilishly up at you, eyes blown wide before she's pulling you back in. Your hands hold the back of her neck as your lips collide once more, pulling her in as close to you as you can in a desperate need for more.

Natasha's fingers dance up your arms before you can feel her begin to press the leather jacket away from your shoulders. You move your hands to let her remove it, only hearing it crash to the floor as you try desperately to hold your lips against the rockstar's. A low whine erupts in your throat as you feel her pull away seconds later, your bruised mouth chasing hers.

But Natasha just lets herself grin as her hands caress your body, deft fingers running up and down your sides. Only moments later, she's reaching beneath the material of your shirt to pull it over your head. Her breaths are heavy as her eyes trace your exposed body, almost fixated on the swell of your breasts in the lacy balconette bra cladding your chest.

"Fuck," the redhead says under her breath. Her hands come up to caress your tits, squeezing them tenderly through the material as your own pants flow from your chest. Her lips connect soon after, kissing and nipping at the skin of your cleavage with delicate precision. You let your head fall back as the redhead pays attention to your chest, simultaneously sucking and playing with your tits with her mouth and hands, sending rolls of pleasure flooding down your spine.

When one of her hands slips up the bare skin of your back, her lips disconnect as she meets your eye. Her fingers play with the clasp of your bra as you look down at her. "Can I?" she whispers, face so close to your own.

"Uh huh," you reply, nodding your head quickly. It's only seconds later you can feel the release against your chest, Natasha's skilled hands making quick work of the clasp and tossing your brassiere to the side. Her attention is straight back on you as she reveals your bare chest, kissing the previously hidden skin as she murmurs soft praises into the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful."

Your fingers find a place running through her hair as she continues to play with your tits, red fibres intertwined with your painted nails. A string of softer sounds elicits from your throat as Natasha's fingers find your nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds with just the perfect amount of pressure.

"Natasha," you breath out heavily, holding back a moan as her teeth replace her hands playing with your chest.

"Yeah baby?" the redhead responds, looking up at you but not removing her face from where it rests.

The look on her face only adds to the pool you can feel forming between your legs, all down to her touch and copious amounts of flirting. You want to see more of her, want to run your hands across her body. Not entirely confident enough to word it, you settle for a whine as you tug at her shirt. Thankfully, it seems Natasha is apt at picking up your signals because she smirks widely before reaching to untuck her shirt and pull it over her head.

As the rockstar tosses it somewhere across the room, you can't help but stare at the sight she's unveiled. Her tits sit beautifully in a red bralette, perked perfectly with pink nipples visible through the mesh material. Every part of you feels totally enamoured by her look, eyes unable to peel themselves away from her heavenly cleavage on display.

It's in your admiration, you find yourself distracted, not noticing the way the rockstar's hand has slipped up your skirt until you suddenly feel her touch against your underwear. A gasp escapes you as her fingers graze over your clothed core, most definitely feeling the way her tactics have saturated the material. The redhead makes eye contact with you, pupils dark. "This okay?" she whispers, voice as thick as honey.

It takes all your efforts to breathe out a response, entirely worked up by her touch. "Yeah," you reply, nodding quickly. By this point you would let her do whatever she wanted if it would soothe ache between your legs.

Natasha smiles widely as she hears your response. "Lift your hips for me," she says, playing a chaste kiss to your collar bone. You do ask she asks, rising up to your knees on the sides of the couch. It gives Natasha the room to hook her fingers underneath the sides of your underwear, pulling them down painfully slowly as she looks into your eyes. When she finally manages to slide them over your legs, she tosses them somewhere off to the side before pulling you back down to sit on her lap.

Just then, a sudden thought crosses your mind. "I've-I've never done this before," you stutter out. "With a woman, I mean."

You wonder for a moment if Natasha will be put off by your inexperience, but that thought is quickly extinguished when the redhead only smirks wider. "That's alright," she replies. "Cause I happen to be somewhat of an expert."

You let out the barest of a laugh at her words, letting the anxiety flood out of your mind. Natasha's smirk holds as you feel her hand creep up your skirt again, dancing over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "Relax, sweetheart," she husks. "I got you now."

Her fingers move to again run over your centre, this time touching your bare skin as you feel her fingers trace your soaked folds. She collects the wetness pooling from your centre before dragging it up to your clit, spreading it as she slowly begins to circle the bud. A moan slips as she presses a little harder, her fingers perfectly pooling pleasure between your legs.

"That's it, baby," Natasha purrs, face close to your ear. "Let me hear all those pretty noises."

You feel your teeth plunge into your bottom lip as another moan slips from your throat. Natasha's touch is so teasingly slow you can't help but buck your hips a little into her hand. "Please-" you whine, desperate for her to do more.

Thankfully, Natasha obliges and another moan drawls from your chest as you feel her middle finger plunge into your core. Your muscles tense around her, pulling her finger in further as your face comes to burrow into the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh uh," Natasha sounds from above you. "Let me see your face, pretty girl." Her finger find your chin, directing your gaze back up until your eyes meet with hers."There you go."

She smiles widely as she leans in for a kiss, once again enveloping your lips in her sweet, sultry taste. The two of you press deeply into another, noses brushing together. You can feel Natasha's finger slowly begin to move inside you, teasing your walls as you whine against her mouth. Your lips only disconnect when you feel Natasha add another finger to the one pumping inside you, your face falling as a gasp sounds from your chest.

She works almost painfully slow, her fingers pulling virtually all the way out before steadily bottoming inside you once again. Each time, her fingertips press against that spot inside you, just softly enough for you to barely feel it. Chasing more of a high, your hips begin to rut against her hand. "Natasha," you whine, voice long and drawn out at her teasing attitude. Some part of you wonders if it's some form of payback for letting it take so long to get you in this position.

The rockstar places a soft kiss to the side of your neck before she's whispering in your ear, hot breath fanning out across the skin. "Shh, just ride my fingers," she says, smiling against you. You feel her free hand come to rest upon your hip, slowly guiding you to rut harder against her hand. Each time you do, you feel her fingers curl into that spot inside you, sending soft sighs of pleasure cascading from your lips.

"'Atta girl," Natasha husks, continuing to guide your movements with her palm. Your hands come to rest upon her shoulders, holding yourself up as you rock back and forth. The redhead's fingers slide in and out of you with each motion, the sounds of the wetness between your legs joined by the moans slipping from your tongue.

Natasha watches with wide eyes as you grind against her hand, fingers gripping into her shoulders as your pleasure grows. She lets her digits curl inside you, releasing sweet, sudden sounds from your lips. Her thumb moves to brush against your clit, the hardened surface sending shocks of pleasure through you each time you rock your hips.

"Fuck baby," Natasha says lowly, watching you practically fuck yourself on her lap. "Are you gonna make a mess?" she drawls. "You gonna make a mess all over my fingers for me?"

"Uh huh," you respond, barely managing to nod your head as you can feel that coil building tighter and tighter in your stomach. Natasha's touch is like electric to your skin, each thrust building to a crescendo at your core.

"Come on, angel," the redhead whispers. "Show me just how pretty you are when you cum."

Her words, alongside one last thrust of your hips is enough to send you toppling over that edge. Your moan is drawn out loudly as you feel yourself come undone, eyes slamming shut as you grip hold of Natasha's shoulders. Your body arches in to her, letting Nat take advantage of your chest with her mouth once more as her fingers ride you through your orgasm.

"Fuck," you breathe, finally starting to come down from your high. You open your eyes once more to see Nat smirking up at you, letting go of your nipple between her teeth as both of her hands now rest on your waist. As your mind clears, you let yourself begin to fall back down on to her lap, but when you accidentally land directly on her thigh, you feel a shock sent through your core. You wince, immediately lifting yourself back up at the sensitivity.

But Natasha seems to have other plans. "Shh, angel. It's okay," she murmurs as her hands grip harsher on to the skin of your waist. She begins to push you back down, eliciting a gasp as your sensitive core connects again with her leg. You squirm a little in the position, fighting ever so slightly against Natasha as she tries to drop your full weight on to her. "Just sit on my thigh," she drawls, hands guiding you down. "Just like that, there you go."

The position hikes your tight skirt all the up to your waist, completely exposing your cunt as it comes to rest against the bare skin of Natasha's thigh. You're pathetically wet against her, cum still dripping out your core from your previous orgasm. But if anything, Natasha only seems to enjoy the way you soak her skin, smirking up at you as her hands begin to direct you once again. Her movements force you to rock back and forth slowly, your slick coating the skin of her leg beneath you. The wave of pleasure that comes from the movement sends a moan tipping out your mouth, your head falling back as your clit throbs with each brush against Natasha's thigh.

"Does that feel good, baby?" the redhead beneath you husks, still guiding your movements. It takes all your focus to nod your head. "Mhm?" Natasha questions, her voice purely laced with amusement. "You're such a good girl. Just keep grinding on me, just like that."

You feel the rockstar's hands disengage from your waist but your movement continues, encouraged by her words and praise. You watch between fluttering eyelashes as Natasha reaches to take off her bra, tossing it aside and revealing her perfect tits to you. Then, you see as her hands moves to undo her shorts, opening each button before her fingers disappear beneath the waistband of the black denim.

You hold back a whine as you see her face contort, only imagining what her fingers may be doing under the material of those shorts. "God, you're making me so wet," the redhead breathes, reaching up to place a kiss on to your pouting lips. You release a whine into her, muffled by her tongue lapping over your own. "Such a pretty girl," Natasha mewls when she pulls away, one hand reaching up to caress your jaw. "So pretty just for me. Wanna see how wet I am for you?"

You feel yourself nodding as you look into her green eyes, turned even more on by the concept of Natasha getting off just by looking at you. The redhead removes her fingers from beneath her shorts before bringing them up to your face, letting you view the soaked digits momentarily before pressing them up to your lips. You take in her fingers welcomely, humming around them as you let the taste of her coat your tongue.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Natasha husks, sounding about as love-drunk as you felt sucking on her fingers. She lets you lap them up a moment longer before pulling them from your lips with a pop. Then, you watch as she dips them back below her shorts, moaning softly at the contact it makes on her hidden centre.

Your eyes feel almost transfixed on the hand concealed beneath the material of Natasha's black shorts. The only true indication of whatever her fingers are doing comes from the delicate hums and sighs that escape the redhead's lips. The sight alone is enough to make you grind your cunt harder against her thigh, desperately trying to ease the heat growing there.

The rockstar notices your attempts becoming more determined, fingers clutching at her shoulders as your own needy mewls drip from your tongue. "Are you gonna cum on my thigh baby?" she asks, smirking widely.

You grind faster against her, trying desperately to chase your high but it feels like it's never coming. "I can't," you whine, hopelessly rutting atop of her.

"You can," Natasha nods.

"Mm-hm," you hum, shaking your head. Your fingers grip harder into her skin, the feeling between your legs never quite reaching that peak you're seeking out.

"You can, baby," Natasha replies quickly, voice assertive. "Look, just like this." You feel her hands come to rest upon your ass, fingers gripping into the soft flesh before she begins to rock you once more. With her guidance, you follow a more structured pattern, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh with each rock of your hips. "There you go," the redhead hums, watching your face screw up in pleasure at the newfound rhythm. Moans begin to cascade from your lips in desperate tones as each new thrust sends you closer to that edge. The way Natasha guides you sends perfect waves of pleasure through your entire body, your hands pressing into her shoulders to try ground yourself in the high. When you feel her fingers join in on the equation, your cries turn ever more lewd, her hand placed so that your clit brushes directly over her calloused tips each time you rut your hips.

"Come on baby girl," you hear Natasha husk, her face close to yours. "Cum for me. You can do it. Cum all over my thigh."

One more thrust sends you hurtling over the edge, screaming out as you feel a gush of warmth flooding onto Natasha's leg. Your arms wrap around her head, anchoring yourself in as you ride out your high, mewling choked moans into the redhead's ear. Natasha guides you through the orgasm once more, still slowly guiding your hips to an eventual stop. When you finally emerge from the crook of her neck, you're panting.

The rockstar admires the way your chest rises and falls, the green crystal still hanging around your neck, nestled in the valley of your breasts. "God, you're so fucking perfect," she husks, drinking in your figure. "I could get addicted to the way you look falling apart for me."

You don't say anything in response as you still try to calm yourself from the high, head feeling fuzzy as you look back at the redhead. She smirks widely as she watches you, utterly obsessed with the way you look sat on top of her, eyes glazed over in residual pleasure.

A single one of her fingers comes to swipe up some of the cum you've left slathered on her thigh, purposely brushing slightly over the top of your bruised clit just to watch you squirm a little before bringing her hand up to her own mouth. She practically laps up the stickiness coating her finger, humming lowly as your cum trickles down her throat. "God," she breathes, letting her finger fall. "I wish I had my strap so I could fuck that sweet little pussy of yours." You whine on top of her, still too inebriated to form a real response. Natasha only chuckles at your intoxication. "Would you like that, pretty girl? Like me to fuck you till you can't even think anymore?"

"Uh huh," you nod, already fantasying the image inside your head.

Natasha laughs again, tilting her head as she watches your face. "You're so cum-drunk right now I think you're already half way there. Isn't that right?" A low sound in the back of your throat is the only response, heightened when you feel Natasha's lips connect with your neck. She sucks as the soft flesh, glazing over the burn with her tongue. She stays there a moment, clearly leaving a mark on your skin that you have no idea how you'll cover up tomorrow. But quite frankly, you don't even care.

When Natasha pulls away, she notices how that glaze has left your eyes, your consciousness returning finally after your last climax. She smirks, eyeing you with that mischievous look as her face comes to rest near your cleavage, placing a chaste kiss to your sternum before looking back up. "You want me to empty that pretty head of yours some more?"

You're barely able to focus on her words as she lets her tongue circle around your nipple. In the end, you don't answer her question, simply whine as her teeth tease at the hardened bud. "Tasha-"

The nickname slips from your tongue almost too easily, your brain not even recognising it. Natasha, however, does, and she can't believe how amazing it sounds coming from your mouth. "Fuck," she whispers, coming face to face with you again. She looks into your eyes for a long moment before she begins to shift her body, turning yours with it. "Lie down for me, baby," she murmurs, twisting your body to lay down on the couch beneath you. "Just like that."

You let her manoeuvre you to the perfect position, arching slightly as the cold leather of the couch hits your back. Lying back, you watch as Natasha leans over you, placing a few quick kisses to your neck before travelling lower. When she reaches your waistline, her fingers work to unzip the skirt still clinging to your waist. She makes light work of undoing it before beginning to pull it down your legs, placing kisses on your warm flesh as she goes. When the article is tossed aside, the rockstar begins to unfasten the boots still tied to your feet. She removes them quickly, laying them aside and soon letting her own join them.

Then, you watch in awe as the redhead slowly slips her fingers into the waistband of her own shorts, almost making a show out of it as she slips the garment down. Shorts and underwear go at the same time as Natasha strips herself in front of you, smirking as she notices the way you stare. Your eyes never leave her as her body moves back towards the couch, coming to a rest above you as her knees straddle your waist. "You're so hot," you all but mumble, mesmerised by the sight in front of you.

Natasha simply chuckles lowly at your response. "Give me your hand," she says, reaching out towards your wrist. You let her take hold, watching intently as she guides you between her legs. She runs your fingers methodically through her folds, gasping quietly as the touch. She's soaked, slick coating your digits, probably residual from where she had been touching herself earlier. "You feel that? It's all for you, baby." Natasha hums as she guides your hand through her core. You can't help but let your own little noises slip, feeling just how wet she is beneath your touch. Your fingers curl at the ends, dipping into Natasha's centre before you pull them up to rub at her swollen clit. "Ah, fuck," the star moans, pinching her eyes closed. She lets you play with her a bit longer before she eventually pulls your hand away, letting it drop to your side. Instead, she reaches the hand she was using to guide you under your right thigh, squeezing into the flesh gently. "Lift your leg for me," she says, pulling upwards on your thigh.

You let her manoeuvre your leg, holding it up to the side while she adjusts her own body. You watch as one of her legs hooks over your waist, angling herself so that her core is directly above your own. When she sinks down to meet you, a lewd gasp sounds from your mouth, the new sensation electric against your skin. Natasha's cunt is wet against your own, accentuated by the cum that sill coats your sensitive folds.

"Oh my god," you breathe out, entirely in awe at the new feeling of the redhead against you. The star smirks down at you, letting your legs fall back into a relaxed position as she anchors herself to your hips with her hands. When she begins to move against you, the loud moans that escape you coat the entire room.

Her clit brushes beautifully against your own as Natasha rocks her hips back and forth, the noises of your combined wetness thick in the air. "Fuck, you feel so good," the redhead moans out, her own breath becoming shallow as she rolls against you. It doesn't mean that she lets her guard down entirely though, quickly noticing when your head lolls to the side and your eyes squeeze shut. "Eyes on me, beautiful," she directs, reaching out to grasp your face.

You let her turn your chin as you open your eyes back up, drinking in the sight in front of you. Natasha rocks back and forwards against you with a perfect rhythm, her tits bouncing with each new thrust. Natasha sees you watching and reaches for your hands, guiding them up to plump flesh of her chest. You squeeze roughly, savouring the delicate moans that spill from the rockstar's lips.

"God, you're so hot," the redhead murmurs between heavy breaths. "I just can't get enough of you. Maybe I'll just have to bring you along on tour with me, let you be my little groupie."

You moan loudly, not only from the way Natasha's cunt grinds over your swollen clit, but also at the teasing voice and notion of her words. Natasha smirks down at you. "You like that idea, huh?" she husks. "You wanna be my little groupie who I fuck like this after all my shows?"

You don't have the ability to form a response to her, merely putting all of your energy into chasing your combined high. Your back arches off the cold leather of the couch as you try your best to rock your hips against the rockstar's, listening to the sound of your wet cunts grinding desperately against one another. When a particular thrust bumps across your clit, a whine sounds low in the back of your throat. "Tasha-"

The nickname does wonders once again in Natasha's mind, sounding so sweet lacing your tongue. "Fuck," she murmurs, trying to keep up her pace. "I want you to say my name like that when you cum baby, okay?"

You nod weakly, chest heaving. "Good girl." Natasha bucks slightly as your clits brush over one another, her legs twitching by your sides. "Fuck."

The two of you continue to rock against one another, your moans harmonising together as you both climb closer to your climax. Your hands rest upon Natasha's full thighs, gripping for support as the pleasure rolls over you in waves. She clasps at your waist, feeling the thin layer of perspiration coating your skin.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "I think I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," Natasha finishes, thrusting into you. You do as she says and let that coil loose in your stomach, letting your orgasm shred through you as you all but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Tasha."

Her name dripping from your lips sends the redhead over the edge too, rutting against you as she cums hard. "Shit," she mumbles, riding her wave as the combination of your juices blends together and soaks both of your legs.

Both of your bodies tense, movements becoming sloppy as your highs hit. When nearly a minute later, you've both come down from the peak, Natasha slowly untwines your legs from one another. She flops down on the couch beside you, barely enough room for the two of you to lie next to another. For a while you two sit with the combined sounds of your own heavy breaths, both of your bare chests heaving in the warmth of the room.

"Oh my god," you manage to slip out, finally aware of how you've just had the best sex of your life. Nothing could ever compare to what Natasha had just done to you, no other partner ever even coming close to making you cum that hard.

Natasha seeks amusement in your blown out state, clearly enjoying the revelation painted on your face. She rolls her head towards you, her signature smirk making one final appearance. "I told you, you wouldn't regret coming back stage with me."

Your head turns towards her, meeting her widened eyes still dark with lust. You almost want to tell her she's wrong, that all your avoiding earlier had been the right path you go down, but you know it's all bullshit. She was right, there wasn't a single ounce of regret in your bones.

Natasha smiles at your clear agreeance, almost smug in the way she licks her lips. She props herself up on to one arm, leaning over you with those dark emerald eyes. Her fingers come to find the crystal hanging around your neck, rolling the stone between her fingertips as she smiles deeply. Then, she turns back to you, looking as sly as she first had back in that bathroom stall. "Now," she drawls. "About that groupie thing..."

[mzzledmutt]

—BLIND DATE

starring.ᐟ katsuki bakugou x reader

synopsis.ᐟ “a social engagement or date with a person one has not previously met.” After neglecting his personal life for so long, Pro-hero Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugou, can no longer run form the inevitable. With the help of his nosy parents, Katsuki ends up on a blind date with you.

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, first blind date, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, creampie, biting, marking, hair pulling, pet names (excessive use of princess), slight man handling, bakugou is a softie at heart, praise, slight softdom!katsuki, breeding

word count.ᐟ 4.8k words

m.mutt 𐂯 please enjoy my brainrot!!

KATSUKI Bakugou was known for many things. His boisterous personality. His bulky, intimidating stature. His impressive and powerful quirk. His less than family-friendly language and his hatred of paparazzi.

You would think being in the spotlight since 15, he would be used to it at this point. Maybe even indulge from time to time but, it’s never been his thing. He makes that fact well-known, constantly. Written and spoken interviews, press conferences, and award ceremonies, he will remind everyone to mind their own business. Especially when it comes to his personal life.

New photos and videos always arrive of the hero, dressed in alleged disguise, flipping off and yelling at the paparazzi. Especially when they get too close to his family and friends. One of his most iconic videos is of his poor father attempting to calm down both his large, rowdy son and his equally rowdy, yet smaller wife.

This strong distaste for the prying eyes and cameras belonging to paparazzi, unfortunately, takes a hard toll on his love life.

Their obsession with publicizing his entire life has forced his hand in many situations. That and the exclusive life he is now forced to lead. One of the biggest downsides of being a hero is the increase in difficulty in your love life.

These few relationships he’s had have all ended one of two ways.

One, in a ball of fury and tears. As a pro hero, Katsuki is often spotted with many people. Typically, people he knows. In bars and restaurants, caught conversating and drinking. Those candid moments are always being televised, even without his knowledge.

Suddenly, his after-work drink with a few friends is skewed and Dynamight is allegedly dating pro-hero Uravity. Resulting in arguments and watching as his partners stormed away.

Two, the spark simmers out. Coming home to put on a front feels exhausting as the days tick by, they both know it. It’s only inevitable until someone’s bags are packed. They’ll cry, holding hands on his couch as he speaks. They’ll go for a hug, only to realize now isn’t the time and leaving is the better option. Soon his apartment is quiet again, leaving him alone.

All of it has turned him away from the dating scene. He’s young and green, with plenty of time to settle down. Except, the consistent pestering from peers, fans, and his own parents is draining. Balancing his hero life, personal and love life all at the same time, was nearly impossible.

“I’m not going out with some chick you designed a dress for!”

“Just give it a try, you brat.”

Katsuki groans, his head rolling back at Mitsuki’s pestering. They were currently sitting in his childhood kitchen, eating brunch as they usually did on Sundays. “You have no idea, you could find the love of your life!” His father chimed in, attempting to add support.

“Maybe you’ll finally give me a grandkid.” Katsuki cringes, shaking his head at his mother’s words. “Look, as your parents we just want what’s best for our little boy. Even if you’re a hulking mountain a man now.”

“I think you should give it a try, she was a sweet girl too. Very well mannered.” Masaru pipes up in Katsuki’s silence.

“Look, just give it a shot. I’ll give you her number and you two can work things out. If things don’t work out you can always try again.” She sips at her hot tea, eyes fluttering shut due to the steam.

“And if I say no?”

“Why do you have to be so incredibly difficult?” Mitsuki scolds as he swirls his spoon in his tea. “Why do you have to be so incredibly annoying?” He muttered followed by a swift pop to the head.

“Ow! Shit!”

That’s how he ended up in this high-end lounge, awaiting a random woman his parents vouched for. He nursed a glass of whiskey, looking over their messages on his phone. Their conversation was rather bland, nothing incredibly enticing but, everyone doesn’t connect over text.

After some time, from his spot at the bar, he sends her another text. It’s only fifteen minutes, there could be traffic. He closes the messenger, choosing to scroll through his social media feed. Occasionally, he lifted his head scanning the area.

It wasn’t a quiet night, the place was bustling with conversation and laughter. Twenty minutes late.

He sent another text.

Everyone is secluded in their worlds, eating snacks and conversing with their loved ones. Their loud conversations exceeded the confinements of their seats. Katsuki was growing impatient.

Thirty minutes late. He’s already attempted to call, being sent straight to voicemail. Was this a joke? Had his parents set him up for some reason?

Glowering red eyes linger across the bar, noticing a figure he had seen earlier. Dressed in a sleek, black dress and nursing a martini between manicured nails. And another text.

Each time he looked in search of his alleged date, his eyes wandered back over to you. Watching as you pitifully looked around, maybe in search of someone like him. His eyes shut as he grimaced watching you pout. Your full, glossed lips jutted out with sadness.

He goes to pick up his phone and sends another message before, shutting the device off. Nearly an hour and a half late, he wasn’t that desperate to pester someone who didn’t care.

“Excuse me.” He calls the bartender. It didn’t seem like this mystery woman would be appearing any time soon so, might as well take a chance. “Lady at the end of the bar,” He gestured toward you. “Another of what’s she’s having, from me.” The man nods, heading off to prepare the new drink.

Katsuki grins seeing your reaction. Confusion washed over your face for a moment before you were directed towards him. Eyes locking for the first time that night. You smile and wave, he reciprocates nonchalantly.

Soon, his whiskey is finished and another is placed before him. “From the lady.” The bartender smiles, pointing his gaze to you once more. You raise your glass in solidarity, your beautiful smile still on display. He raises his glass, as a sort of distant cheers, taking a swig right away.

He watches as your gaze falls to the background, peering around the dim bar before you rise from your seat. Katsuki anxiously shifted in his seat, unsure of where you were going but, his anxiety didn’t settle as you stride over to him.

“Hi.” One word and he’s hooked. Your melodic voice wrapping itself around his brain and heart. “Hey, care to sit?” He offers the seat beside him. “Gladly.” You’re nervous, curt responses give you away along with the slight tremble in your hand.

“What are you doin’ here, beautiful?” He’s starting bold, liquid courage providing him strength. “I was supposed to be on a date. He hasn’t shown.” He ashamedly smirks. “Funny enough, I got stood up too.” He down the rest of his drink.

“What’s your name?” You answer sweetly, a bright smile on your face. He shared it, almost subconsciously. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki—“

“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. I’m surprised everyone is being so calm right now honestly.” You laugh and his heart skipped a beat, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while.

“Places like these are used to seeing pros, they get over it.” He replies, leaning against the bar top. “Not every day one-half of the wonder duo walks through those doors.” You reason, a smug smirk on your face as if knowing you’d won.

“Touché.” You giggle, a sweet sound he yearns to hear again. “Did you enjoy your martini?”

“It was delicious. Thank you, again.” Well-mannered and gorgeous. “Anything for a pretty girl like you.” You flush, thanking him profusely. He orders you both another round, choosing to carry on the conversation.

As you two spoke he fell deeper and deeper into infatuation. “I’m the newest assistant for your friend, Chargebolt. This is only my third month at the agency and I’m tired.” You sip at your drink. “Really? Been so busy I haven’t had a chance to make the trip. Can’t be an easy job though, knowin’ Kaminari.”

“It’s not the most difficult task in the world but, I do have to keep my eye on him like a toddler.” You share a laugh at the comparison.

The conversation shifts to your personal lives. Lamenting on your lack of a love life, work beginning to consume your free time. How your close friends and family have urged you to get out of your shell. Which led to this night.

His hand lays over yours as he showers you with compliments. Deflecting anytime your humble attitude attempted to shut him down. He complimented your dress, you tried to brush him off claiming that the piece was old and unflattering.

“Well, I think that dress is absolutely stunning.” His hand grasps yours, and you reciprocate. “I should know, my ma’s a designer.” He’s almost smug in saying that as if his association with a designer made him the judge of all fashion.

“I’m aware, I’ve browsed her catalog since I was little.” The way your eyes light up talking about particular garments his mother fashioned that she always dreamed of owning. “I think you’d look gorgeous in just about anything.”

“Are you flirting with me Katsuki Bakugou?”

The question hangs in the air for a moment. The two of you leaning into each other's spaces unknowingly. He could smell your sweet perfume from her, the scent filling his senses. “I am, is that alright?”

“It is.” Your eyes flicker down to his lips as you lick your own before sitting back in your seat. Katsuki’s already hooked, still leaning into your space as if entranced by you. He leans back, stuck in an unfamiliar haze of attraction.

That haze seemed to slow the time as he checked his watch seeing he had been chatting with you for nearly four hours. It was dark outside, patrons still lingering in the lounge.

“Hey, it’s getting late.”

“Is there anything I can get you? A ride home? Maybe a nightcap?” The last part was slightly rushed as if he were embarrassed. “A nightcap sounds good, I’m off tomorrow anyway.” The wink you give him doesn’t go unnoticed making his stomach tighten. “Excuse me, can I close our tabs?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, let me. Besides that jerk should’ve been here paying anyway.” You sit in silence as he closes you both out of the night and thank him as he helps you to your feet. Bakugou drapes his big coat over your shoulders, holding out a hand which you graciously take.

The contrast of the warmth of the bar and the chilly night air flushes your cheeks. You’re thankful to the hero for his warm coat. “Your hands are really warm.” You mutter as you both stride down the sidewalk.

Katsuki’s notices before you. The stares. People turn to whisper to each other as he walks beside you. Soon, there are flashes and cheers of his name. He rolls his eyes out of annoyance, holding onto your hand tighter as he moves faster. “Can ya’ keep up, princess?”

A small swarm of fans and paparazzi crowd the couple, snapping photos and begging for an interview. He barks orders at them to leave you alone, keeping your face obscured from their ravenous gaze. You blindly follow, rather unphased by the crowd around you.

Before you, a sleek, exquisite sports car sat with flashing headlights. Katsuki opens the passenger door, still blocking you from view as he helps you inside. Once the door is shut, you’re concealed by his dark tint. “Can’t you guys just fuck off, for one night?” It was a rhetorical question, more to himself than the people around him.

He waves at fans along the street, ignoring the money-hungry reporters behind him as he opens his own door and settles into his vehicle.

“I’m so sorry.” He’s met with a soft laugh and a gentle touch to his hand. “Katsuki, I’m used to it. This is a part of my job too, I’m just more behind the scenes.”

“They’re just invasive,” The card engine roars to life, vibrating the interior. “Almost predatory. Going any length for a snippet of gossip.” He groans, leaning his messy blond head against the leather seats. “Bakugo—“ - “Katuski.” He speaks over you.

His head lulls to the side, his full attention on you. “Katsuki. I appreciate all you’ve done tonight.” Plump glossed lips upturned into a smile that melts his heart. “Consider it a late welcoming gift. You’re lucky, I usually send assistants gift cards to a spa.”

You both laugh, a break between the growing tension filling the cramped space of his car as you hold eye contact. His tongue darts to lick his chapped lips, teeth barely grazing the skin before he clears his throat and looks away.

“You sure you still wanna go back to mine?” He asks, buckling his seatbelt and you do the same. “Yeah, it’s just one drink.”

One drink.

Just one drink.

The phrase repeated in his mind almost the entire time. Your voice disrupting his thoughts the only thing keeping him from being completely silence. He drives you to his building. A large, clean structure. Covered in windows, and lights, and well decorated.

You don’t even need to enter the lobby. Katsuki leads you to an elevator activated with a special keycard.

After a short trip, the doors open to this grand place.

You find yourself in awe as you walk through his front hall. His apartment was massive and spotless yet, homey. Although he clearly preferred a more modernized look, it still managed to have the charm and personality of his childhood home.

“This place is ten times bigger than my apartment.” Katsuki laughs, taking his coat from you and hanging it beside the door. “I want to downsize, this was an impulse buy from when I first started. A financial disaster is what I refer to it as.” You giggle, he swoons.

The blond guides you to his kitchen, pulling out a stool for you to sit in at the island. “Are you hungry? I can whip something up.” He offers. “I thought I was just here for a nightcap, not dinner.” You joke, settling down in your seat.

“Well, I like a nice snack when I drink and a lady always deserves a nice dinner on the first date.”

“This is a date now?” You quirk a brow, still rather unsure of what to make of this evening.

“Wasn’t it always? We both had shitty dates who stood us up, we just found each other instead.”

“Yeah, then I guess it is.” You bat your lashes as silence falls over the kitchen for a moment. Katsuki clears his throat and smiles, moving away to gather something to eat. “What’re you making?” You ask seeing as he stands before the fridge. “Nothing.”

“Fresh bow of fruit, put it together today. I can get some crackers and wine, that work for you?” You nod.

“Could you grab the bottle off the counter? Don’t worry about a screw I’ve got one.” You help yourself to sort of peruse his kitchen, taking in little bits of his taste from the pictures and decor before returning the bottle to him.

Katsuki pops the bottle, pouring you both half glasses. You cheers, taking the first drink together and savoring the sweet taste. “I didn’t expect you to like sweet wines.”

“I indulge from time to time, besides it was a gift from my ma.”

“Aww, Dynamight the mama’s boy.” You giggle, grabbing a fresh strawberry and popping it into your mouth. “Oh hush, she gets these kinds of things for free and knows I’ll actually use them.” He’s close, using his elbows to lean on the counter.

“So don’t always do this?” You can smell his cologne.

“Do what?” He can smell your perfume.

“Being pretty girls to your apartment.” The scents colliding are an intoxicating concoction.

“Only pretty girls I like.” A strawberry is held cautiously between his fingertips, held between your space. “You like me, Katsuki?” A rather silly question on your part, he wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

“I do, princess.” He slowly bites into the juicy fruit, keeping his eyes on you.

The sudden bass and rap of his voice along with the intense eye contact fill you with a sudden wave of heat. The facade of small talk became harder to keep up.

It wasn’t long before Katsuki was brazen enough to lean over the counter and press his lips against yours. Your glasses of wine are soon abandoned, sloppily making out as you sit on his pristine countertop. He stood between your legs, hands crawling across your back and hips as you pant into each other mouths.

Soon, you’re both stumbling down his spacious corridor and into his dimly lit bedroom. He lets you go, turning to close the door as you take in your surroundings. Once the door is shut his attention is back to you, frantic hands roaming over each other skin, pulling at the almost offensive fabrics that keep your bodies apart.

Your clothes are eventually scattered among his own on the bedroom floor as Katsuki gently lowers your naked bodies into his fresh sheets. Cradling your head as he brushes his lips along your jaw and neck. You shiver under his touch, calloused hands running along your soft skin, cupping your breast, and rolling your hardening nipples.

You mewl under his touch, legs squeezing his hips to keep him in place. His teeth nip at your jaw, lowering to nip and suck marks into the skin of your neck. Your hips buck against each other, his hardening cock jumping against your dripping cunt.

It was becoming too much. you whine, pulling his attention away from your neck.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His words are followed by more gentle kisses. “Want you, ‘suki.” you pout, eyes watering dramatically. “You want more, baby?” You nod, lips still stuck in a pathetic-looking pout. His right hand moves to your jaw, pinching the bone between a few, thick fingers.

“Use your words.” His voice is strong, and commanding. Yet, loving and soft. “I want more, ‘suki.” He smiles at your muffled words and presses a wet kiss onto your puckered lips. “I’ll give you more then, princess.”

Your jaws sore when he lets go, the feeling of his fingers still remnant in their wake. Your legs fall slack as the blond kisses down your torso, from the valley of your breast to the bottom of your navel. He follows the trail back up and down once more, staring you in the eye.

His eyes shift down for a moment, a wolfish grin forming on his face. “You’re dripping, baby.” He cooes making your skin flush. another whine leaves your throat as you tear your gaze away, trying to focus on the ceiling above you. “No no, look at me.”

“Good. Look at me, baby.” His right hand moves from rubbing at your hips, to gently caressing your skin until his thumb lands on your clit. Your thighs quiver at the sudden contact, your gaze locked on him. Thumb lowers to collect the juices from your cunt, making a show as he brings the digit to his mouth to taste you.

You’re infatuated with the godly figure before you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, muscles unintentionally flexed as he lewdly moans around his fingers at your taste. “‘s so good, princess. You taste so fuckin’ good.”

He makes of show of it, wickedly at your already blissed-out appearance. “So damn sweet, soakin’ my sheets.”

Your eyes follow him as he descends between your legs once more, harshly biting the plump skin before soothing it with kisses.

You’re so caught in your own pleasure, the shock of his fingers prodding your cunt forces a gasp. His free hand moves your thighs onto his shoulders as he stares you down. “Can I?”

One thick finger breaches your cunny slowly, gently pushing in before pulling out. He follows the motions a few times, watching as you gush around his finger. Soon, another is added. Carefully, thrusting into your pussy as he presses kisses to your clit.

You writhe at his ministrations, fighting to keep your eyes focused on the man before you.

He sets a slow and mind-numbing pace, slowly thrusting in and out. The sounds of your slick coating his fingers and your breath moans a chorus to him.

“Yeah? Feel good, princess?” He teases, gaze fixed upon your pleasure-ridden face. Your mouth is agape as strained moans are pulled from your aching chest. He was breaking you apart in two fingers, stretching you open and preparing you for his cock.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, baby? ‘M gonna stretch you open like a good girl deserves.” He declares, mainly to himself. Too lost in how your walls greedily suctioned his fingers back in.

Bakugou carefully leans down to lap at your clit, eliciting a soft cry and an arch of your back. He shuts his eyes as he savors the taste he was beginning to yearn for, suckling your poor neglected clit.

“Katsuki!” You shout, digging your nails into the pillow behind you. “Katsu—fuckk! Please, fuck me, baby! I need you so badly, need your cock so bad!”

He’s devoted to searing your taste into his mind. Messily coating his face and your cunny with a thin layer of wetness. Soon, he’s haphazardly withdrawing his fingers from your salacious cunt, against your protests to taste you further.

Spikes of blond hair bob between your legs, his tongue delving between your folds making you whimper and writhe. His hands grab a hold of your ass, holding you close to his face so you wouldn’t escape. Your back arches from the comforter, keening into his touch.

“God!” You cry as you fall back onto the sheets, fingers grasping for anything to clutch. His pace never falters, gratefully drinking your slick that spilled into his awaiting tongue, then swirling it around your throbbing clit.

“Kat—fuck! Baby—Katsuki!” Your body felt electric, an almost buzzing sensation that erupted from your pelvis and spread through your body. Your wanton moans are loose into the air, eyes shut as your head is tossed back.

You were a gorgeous statuette of pleasure.

You felt as if you bit off more than you could chew. Going out with a pro hero was already anxiety-inducing enough, practical criminal, allowing him to lure you to his apartment with promises of a nightcap, and now naked and wriggling beneath him was driving you to insanity.

And he's not even inside of you yet.

The maddening way his tongue circled your aching clit, inscribing his name into the bud. His blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass, keeping you relatively grounded. His tongue unrelenting stimulating your soaked pussy pushed you to your first orgasm.

A sudden wave of pleasure and the ever-growing pit in your stomach unravels through your body. You grip his hair, keeping Katsuki’s mouth in place as your hips buck into the pleasure. You loudly cry out his name, and a few tears roll down your cheeks as you cum.

He groans into your cunt, eyes rolling at the sweet taste of your cum. His hands rub your skin, easing away any pain left behind by his grip. Slowly, you open your eyes, chest still heaving.

“‘Suki,”

He pulls away, the lower half of his face soaked with slick and spit.

“M’yeah?” You can’t even think of what to say, just laying your head back to catch your breath. “You alright, baby?” You nod, still returning from your high. Katsuki crawls up to face you, a soft smile on his lips. “You look so pretty.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the soft skin.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He quirks a brow, a smirk on his face. “Yeah? I’ll fuck you, baby.”

“I promise, I’ll fuck you real good.” He captures your lips, sharing the taste of you once more. Your tongues are quick to entangle as you pant into each other's mouths.

Your fingers naturally gravitate to his blond hair, keeping him close as you kiss. Your bodies move together as you grind against one another, his hard cock leaking pre cum against your stomach. You’re both growing increasingly needier, rutting and panting like dogs in heat.

Katsuki breaks from the grinding, settling himself between your thighs. The tip of his cock pressed against your clit, spreading his precum as he teases you.

“You want it?”

“I want it, ‘suki.” His grin is wolfish at the nick, happily dragging his cock from your clit to press at your fluttering hole. He groans at the warmth and wetness, your dripping cunt already leaking onto him.

A pathetic high-pitched whine leaves your open mouth as his thick, heavy cock slowly bullies into your heat. Pushing deep into your plush, warm walls. Katsuki is slow, taking his time to ease you into the feeling. His lips are on your breast, kissing and nipping the soft skin.

“More, please.” You whine, your hands moving to hold onto his back. His hips increase in pace, still slow as you hiss once he draws back.

Katsuki slowly molds your tight pussy to his cock, stretching you open to only accommodate him. The sharp pain of your nails digging into his back only encourages him to thrust faster, making you cry out his name. Your cunt loudly gushes around his heavy cock, spilling syrupy juices down your skin.

“God damn, this pussy—fuck—you’re s’fuckin’ tight.” He grits out, grabbing your leg and pushing it back to the mattress. The change of angle causes you to lurch forward, your hands pushing at his shoulders. “Oh my god, Katsuki!” You shout, as his throbbing cockhead smushes against your cervix.

He’s back to sucking your tits, leaving spit-soaked freckled hickeys in his wake. You’re still adjusting to his size, the sudden change in position driving him deeper into your guts.

He’s pressed himself closer against you, his pelvis adding stimulation to your nice neglected clit. You throb around him and cry, fat tears slipping from your eyes. “Y’feel that, baby? I’m so deep in this pretty pussy. Y’feel me in yer tummy, does it feel good, baby?” You’re incoherent, only capable of breathless moans and sobs.

“You look so pretty, all fucked out ‘cause o’ me. Tell me, baby, do I feel good?” His hand cruelly comes down to press on the slight bulge in your stomach, causing your poor cunt to twitch around him. “‘s too much!” You cry out, pushing against him to no avail.

“Too much? You can take it, princess. Can’t ya’?” His pace suddenly grows rough, hips slamming into yours as he fucks into your cunny. He pressed your other leg to the mattress, forcing his cock all the way inside.

You’re mindless. Eyes rolled back into your skull, unintelligible moans and clawing at his skin. The rooms full of thick, humid air, the sounds of your squelching cunt, and a chorus of moans. Bakugou savors this image, in case he may never get the chance to see you again.

He caresses all of the right places inside of you, each thrust full of never-ending pleasure. His wicked tongue in your nipples and sinful roll of his hips push you to the edge. Like a burning fuse, slowly trailing all the way to a firework.

“Y’close baby? Don’t worry, you can cum for—fuck! You’re so fuckin’ wet—cum for me.”

Katsuki’s thrust increases to a maniacal speed, jostling you around his mattress without care. He was chasing his orgasm now, keeping you secure beneath he ruts into you. Heavy balls slapping against your asshole, the rough feeling of public hair against your soaked cunt. You can’t think let alone protest before he’s spilling his cum deep inside of your womb.

Katsuki keeps himself buried inside of you as he changes position, opting to hold you instead. You’re both panting as if you’ve run a marathon, hearts racing and skin coated in sex and sweat. You lay in silence, catching your breath for just a moment.

“Please don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ ’bout leavin’.” He mutters into your hair, rubbing your back. You breathlessly giggle against his chest, shaking your head. “I can’t feel my legs, Katsuki.” He smiles, cheering to himself.

“How about we clean up and get some rest? I’m beat.” A yawn cuts you off as you agree, alerting you to how exhausted you truly are. Katsuki kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep and tomorrow, we can continue this date. That sound nice?” You nod again, and slowly drift to sleep.

“Good. Stay here and look pretty, I’ll run a bath.”

[keikikait]

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader (both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 3.3k

summary: steve recently got a new camera for his birthday, and can only think about one thing he wants to film

warnings: SMUT 18+!, a lil fluffy, being filmed, i wasn't alive in the 80's so i might get stuff wrong, slight dom!steve, slight sub!reader, oral (f receiving - steve's a munch argue with the wall), this is literally just steve being a munch. not proofread

a note: my first ever fic for stranger things!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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“No, lemme see - I wanna see it!”

You pry the camera out of Steve’s hands, clutching it. You admire the camera, a Sony CCDTRV118 Hi8 Camcorder, careful not to smear any fingerprints across the lens. You giggle as he grumbles, trying to grab the camera back. “Your parents really shelled out this year, Stevie.”

Steve snatches the camera out of your hands, ignoring your protest, and puts the lens cap back on. “It was the only thing I asked for. It came with a deck to record tapes, too. They’ve been holding it over my head all week.”

Your eyes widen, knowing how expensive those can get. You’ve never had one yourself, just seeing them on the shelves of Sears before finally seeing one today up close and personal. “Damn. You're going to have a hell of a time repaying them.”

Steve shrugs. “Eh. I'll just record my baby cousin's christening next week and they'll drop it.”

You move to sit down on his bed, cross-legged, playing with the frills on the hem of your white socks. The window was open, a necessity for the hot summer you were caught in the midst of. The first cool breeze of the evening swept into Steve's room, carrying with it the scent of hot air and the oak trees planted around the Harrington property. The curtains, a soft blue muslin, floated gently in the breeze. “Did you only invite me over to show me your new camera?”

Steve grins, setting the camera down on his desk. “That...and I wanted to ask you something.”

You tilt your head in confusion, a soft smile on your face as you admire him. Freshly showered, hair still slightly damp, in a loose-fitting dark blue t-shirt and a black pair of jeans, no doubt from Eddie’s influence. “Yeah?”

Steve moves towards you and pushes on your shoulders, laying you down on your back. He crawls on top of you, pressing his hips into yours. “Yeah. I was thinking...how would you feel if we filmed a movie together? Hmm?” He brushes some hair out of your face. 

You bite your lip, sliding your hands under his t-shirt, brushing your hands over his back.  His skin is so warm and so soft, and you feel yourself melting. “What kinda movie?”

“Oh, the good kind.” He whispers before kissing you, his lips pressing firmly against yours as his tongue slides into your mouth, exploring and making you shiver. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you up against him.

You giggle, kissing him back. You get momentarily lost in the way he tastes and the feel of his lips before you pull away to speak, “Are you asking me to make a porno?”

“A home movie,” Steve corrects, a sly grin on his face. “Totally not the same thing, baby. It’s not a porno if it’ll only be seen by us.”

You giggle, moving one of your hands to his hair, running your fingers through it. “You wanna make me a pornstar?”

“You wouldn't be the star of the movie; I would be.” He pauses mid-kiss to grin at you. “Think of it more like…” He pauses again, searching for words. “Like, a...a feature film starring me and...and a really hot co-star.”

“And what’s in it for me?” You ask, playing along.

“I can think of a few things.” He grins. “A starring role in someone's wildest fantasy, for one. A spot in a home movie that'll be around forever for the people who make it...it could be a classic.”

“Hmm, right, right.” You say, kissing him on the lips again. 

“Think of the bragging rights!” He laughs quietly against your lips. “It could be your claim to fame. Your legacy.”

“Ah, yes, my legacy,” You say. “The girl that got railed by Steve Harrington as he taped the whole thing.”

He leans back, pretending to be offended. “You know, now that you put it like that it doesn't sound so romantic.”

“Oh, it’s supposed to be romantic?” You chuckle.

“Are you telling me you don't think I'm a romantic guy?” His grin widens. “That's kind of hurtful. I thought I was being smooth.”

“Smooth like crunchy peanut butter.”

Steve groans in mock pain, pulling you to his chest as he rolls onto his side. You laugh, and he finds it adorable, holding you close as he sticks his tongue out and pretends to die from your insult.

After a few seconds, he looks at you. “I’m serious, ya know. I wanna make a lil movie with you. I wouldn’t share it anywhere, it would just be for us to watch.”

You smile softly, looking over at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I really do.” He moves some of your hair aside, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment. “It'll be...our own little thing. Something to keep to ourselves.”

You bite your lip. “Then let’s do it.”

"There's the enthusiasm I was looking for." He laughs breathlessly, leaning down to kiss your neck. His teeth rake against the skin, biting and sucking at the sensitive area as he moves his hands up your shirt. He moves his face up to kiss you, his kisses turn from slow and sweet to almost desperate, as if he was afraid he wouldn’t get another kiss again. His hand grips at your waist, and you shiver under his touch. "You are so beautiful. You know that, right? God, I'm so damn lucky."

You giggle, pulling his shirt over his head. “You’re one to talk.”

Steve chuckles, lifting his back so you can pull the shirt off and toss it on the floor next to the bed. "I get that a lot." His hands move to your lower back, toying with the hem of your shirt as he presses you to him. He kisses at your jaw, a mischievous smile on his face as his fingers dance along your skin, sliding up your back. He pauses speaking again, "You know what, let's keep it even." In one quick motion, he slides your shirt off your body, tossing it somewhere in his room. He stares at your bare chest for a moment, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Much better.”

He greedily slides his hands over your tits as you squirm, slowly getting more and more desperate. A thin veil of sweat covers your body, your least favourite thing about the summertime, but he doesn’t mind. Steve bites back a moan as he roughly squeezes your tits, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Your back arches deliciously and he grins, squeezing your nipples hard.

Steve's hands start wandering all along your body. They're warm against your bare skin, and his touch feels almost electric whenever he moves to touch something new. His fingers brush along your hip, tracing the waistband of your shorts while his breaths become heavier. He whispers your name, almost in a plea as he looks down at you, like the sight of you is the most beautiful thing in the world. "God, you drive me crazy, you know that?"

You blush. “Theres no need to butter me up, Steve. I’m already in your bed topless.”

He laughs breathlessly. "Can't help it. Every time I look at you I just wanna...worship you." His fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slowly. "You drive me goddamn crazy. I don't deserve someone as beautiful as you."

Your heart flutters. “You deserve the world, Stevie.”

It's his turn to blush now, a bright red blush spreading across his cheeks as he looks away. "God, you really don't know what you're doing to me, do you?" His thumb brushes over your hip bone, the cool metal of the ring on his right thumb contrasting with the heat of his skin. You and Steve have matching rings, yours sitting neatly on your left middle finger. "You're gonna be the death of me, baby.”

You grin mischievously. “Not doin’ anything.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head as he continues his work in removing your skirt. "Sure you aren't, brat." There's a fondness to his voice as he speaks, and you smile in return. Steve leans down to kiss your cheek before moving to your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. He plants soft kisses in every spot he can reach, admiring your body all the while. He reaches your lower stomach, kissing just above the hem of your underwear. His hands find your hips, and he glances up at you. "You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers under your underwear when you remember. “Wait, we’re supposed to be filming.” Your voice is breathy, clouded and suffocated by lust and desire.

His hands stop for a moment, eyes widening slightly as he realizes too late. "Right." Slowly, he pulls his head up, sitting to look at you. "Where did I put that…oh, for crying out loud - “ He leans across you to grab the camera off his desk, a light laugh in his voice like he can't believe he forgot. He attaches the camera to the deck, putting in a blank VHS tape. The red light on the camera blinks and Steve turns on the deck to capture the playback. ”I guess we're doing a re-take.”

The red light suddenly makes it all feel real. You shift on the bed as he props it up, shooting directly in between your legs. You feel yourself getting hot and your mouth dries. “Make sure to get my good side.”

A smile forms on his face as he adjusts the camera. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get plenty of good angles. But that’s not for me to say, that’s for us to get all sorts of opinions on…” He takes a glance at your half naked body, pausing. “Damn.”

You suddenly feel shy, shifting on the bed. “What?”

“You’re literally perfect, and all mine,” he says, his words thick against the sound of the deck whirring. He starts unbuttoning his jeans, shimmying out of them before he lays back down on top of you. “This is all mine to worship, hm?” His thumb hooks into the thin hem of your underwear, tugging it down.

You nod, your legs opening even wider as he pulls your underwear off. Thank god you trimmed yourself up this morning. “All yours.”

"God, you're amazing." He gently squeezes your hip, smiling as he presses hot kisses onto your stomach, and gradually lower and lower. "Absolutely perfect. You're killing me, baby." The camera is recording it all, but Steve doesn't care about that. He gently pushes your legs apart to settle in between them, and he lets out a quiet groan at the sight.

You let out a soft whine, almost bucking your hips in his face. “Steve…”

"I know, baby," he purrs, his arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you still. "We'll get to it. Just let me appreciate this." You feel his breath against your skin, warm and sending an electricity through your body. He rubs his thumb over your entrance, gathering some of your wetness before spreading it all over, rubbing your clit in soft circles. Slowly, he presses a kiss against your sensitive heat, and he groans softly, his breath coming in quiet gasps through his nose.

You shiver, your hips bucking, another soft whine tumbling from your mouth.

You feel him smile against you, one of his hands sliding up your thigh, and he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. He chuckles, "Someone's getting impatient, hmm?"

You can only imagine the footage the camera is capturing.

He puts your legs on his shoulders, spreading your pussy out with his fingers. "Stay still for me," he coos, his breaths coming out heavy against your skin, "there we go..." He runs his tongue up your slit, relishing the whine that comes from you as your thighs try to squeeze around him. He holds you down gently but firmly, letting his eyes close as he savors the taste.

You try your hardest to stay still, gripping the bedsheets tight. His soft hair brushes against your thighs and it makes you shiver, goosebumps littering your body as he moves his tongue from side to side. He takes his time with you, his tongue slowly licking and circling to draw out the most noise from you that he can. He lets out a groan as you whine and mewl, and it's hard not to let his hips press into the bed. His fingers are hot against your thighs, his touch light at first, and then pressing hard enough to keep you from writhing in his grasp.

"Good girl." His teeth graze your skin, and it's enough to make you gasp. His kisses start getting more desperate, and he gives another long swipe across your heat before he decides to focus on your sensitive bundle of nerves. In an instant you feel his tongue against it, and his groan vibrates against you as he holds you steadily in place. “Is that good, baby?”

You nod, struggling to find your voice in the moans and pants.

“Words, baby.” Steve says, blowing air directly on your clit.

You whimper. “Feels so fucking good, Stevie.”

He hums in appreciation. "You're pretty enough to be a goddess. A muse," he murmurs against you, his tongue moving in slow circles now, "and you're all mine." His voice is breathless, his moans almost too much for the microphone to pick up, and he starts to move his tongue in faster circles, drawing mewls and whines from you. Between desperate whines, you could barely make out moans of his name in your haze, your hips trying and failing to jerk against him. "My pretty baby, all mine.”

You gasp and whine. “Fuck, all yours!”

He's relentless against you, almost too much and not enough all at once. His hands grip harder at your thighs, his tongue working in dizzying circles. His grunts and groans vibrate against you, and he glances up at you for a moment, the sight of you a beautiful mess. "So pretty, baby." He doesn't slow his motions, not giving you a chance to recover, and you can feel that he's getting hungry for you. You can hear the sounds of the camera capturing everything, the whirling and clicking as it records it all.

“You’re doing so good, baby. My good girl,” he coos, pausing to gasp between the praise. He switches to small, short strokes as he moans against you, his tongue hitting your sensitive bundle perfectly each time. Every noise he makes seems to excite you, pushing you closer and closer to your edge.

Your hips buck against his face, your clit bumping against his nose.

“That’s it, baby.” Steve’s voice is low and thick with a mix of desire and lust. His tongue flicks against you, bringing out whines with each stroke. His grip on your thighs is tight but careful, his nails pressing into your skin just a little too hard to be unintentional. It’s obvious that he loves this, the taste of you and the sound of your moans are his favourite, and he would never get enough of it. It's the thing that drives him crazy, the thing that makes his mind blank and his body run hot.

Your moans get louder, your head leaning back into the pillow. Steve groans against you, his tongue moving in short, fast circles as he presses his hips into the bed to try and get some friction. His breathing becomes more erratic with each moan from you, and the sounds of licking and panting get louder within the room. His hands grip your hips, his mouth growing hungry as he picks up the pace. “God, the sounds you make…”

You let out a shaky gasp, your thighs clenching around his head.

He moans loudly in response, his mouth moving with fervor as he feels your thighs clench around him. The sounds of the wet, needy movements only grow louder as his tongue hits every sensitive nerve of your clit as it slides against you. “God, baby. I love you. I love you so much.” Steve's groan is breathless as he presses closer, his tongue moving in sloppy, desperate circles now. He wants more.

You squirm and shake when he slides a finger into your cunt, sliding his thumb up and down your slit. His body presses further into the bed as his fingers slide into you without warning. You moan as your back arches off the bed, your whine going up an octave and your body trembling as he works his fingers in time with his tongue. “My beautiful girl. All mine.”

You pant, your hips bucking into his face.

His free hand grips your hip to keep you from writhing away as he works you up as fast as he can. He slides another finger into your cunt, chuckling at the way you shake. “Can’t help myself, baby. So pretty, so sweet. I could do this forever if you’d let me.”

You reach down and run your fingers through his hair. “Cl-close, Stevie!” Your whole body feels hot, legs shaking every single time he sucks on your clit.

“I know, I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with his thumb. “But you need permission.” You whine loudly in response, trying to press your clit into his thumb even harder. He moves his thumb in small, tight circles against you. “I wanna hear you ask for it, baby. Ask me like a good girl.”

His fingers move in and out of you, curling with each movement to draw out more whines and whimpers. “You want that, baby?” You nod desperately in response, your back arching slightly. His voice sounds like his mind was being reduced to nothing but you, only you. “Then beg for it. Ask nicely. Beg.”

The words tumble out of your mouth. “Please! Please Stevie! Please let me cum, I’ve been a good girl!” You sound so desperate and Steve laps it up.

Steve lets out a groan as his breath catches in his throat, his body pressing into the bed at your words. He lets out a low laugh. “So pretty…good girl.” He shifts your hips slightly, angling you towards the camera. His fingers speed up once more inside of you. “That’s it baby, cum for me. You’ve been so good, it’s okay. Cum for me. Let the camera see you cum…”

You cum hard, your hips lifting off of the bed. Your moans fill the air alongside the clicks and the whirring of the camera. He works you through it, his fingers and thumb drawing out every possible second of your high as you squirm. He groans as he sees a stream of wetness dribble out of you, forming a puddle under your thighs. He takes one last swipe with his tongue, sucking at your sensitive nerves one last time before lifting himself up to look at you. You already look wrecked, just how Steve likes you. “You okay, baby?”

After a few seconds you nod, your head feeling floaty.

He chuckles as he watches the rise and fall of your chest slow down. He gives a final kiss to your clit before crawling up to you, leaning down to kiss you. “God, you’re amazing.” As soon as his lips touch yours, you taste yourself on his tongue, and he chuckles as you recoil slightly. “Come here.” Steve pulls you close to his chest, his kisses becoming less frenzied and more soft and sweet.

After a few seconds he pulls away, looking back at the camera. “Do you wanna keep going?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve grins, pushing you onto your back once again. “Good. You’re such a good girl, all nice and ready for my cock.”

You let out another moan as he pulls his underwear down, making sure to look right into the lens as your home video continues.

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i hope you all enjoyed! :> requests are open!

[petew21-blog]

Swapcation

I can't believe I finally did it. I was so afraid to use my powers I got and now look at me.

A fat kid like me would never walk around like this. Parading around

I still feel guilty though

14 hours ago:

My family spoke about receiving my powers for many years. They all got their chance for a few years when they were young but one day their power run out when they got too old. It took a few years for each person.

But now I was the youngest out of our family and they all were looking forward to use my powers to swap them into younger bodies. I hated this idea, cause they usually picked a family they knew and replaced them. What did my family do with the other swapped family are you asking? You don't wanna know.

And that's why I escaped the night before my family got their hands on me. I couldn't let another family get killed of like so many before. I just have to swap soon enough before my family finds me a tries to use me for themselves. Unfortunately it won't be easy, cause after centuries of swapping, they got themselves into the higher class and got enough money to do whatever they wanted.

I ran through the forest with my backpack and got to the nearest road. It was the middle of the night and there weren't cars nearby. I walked for an hour and arrived to a 24/7 diner. Perfect. I can hitchhike from here.

The only three people in the diner were the chef, waitress and some guy. He looked like a bussiness man coming from some trip. Sipped his coffee, maybe heading somewhere and trying to get some cofein to not fall asleep behind the wheel.

I aproached him:"Hey, I was just wondering if you were taking hitchhikers by any chance?" I asked with a shaky voice.

He looked at me with his exhausted eyes:"Where are you heading? Got a name kid?"

"North," I exclaimed, " and the name is Kenneth. Nice to meet you."

I saw a spark in his eyes. Maybe it was just a coincidence. "Really? North? There isn't anything but wilderness for miles." I didn't respond. And just nodded. He continued:"Well we got a lot to talk about then"

We headed to the car. He was driving a black Toyota. That's all I could say about that car. I knew shit about cars

His car was clean, but he had a lot of bags in the trunk. Probably from the business trip, I thought.

An hour of smalltalk about my life and himself followed. His name was Matthew, and he worked as a marketer on west coast. He quit university a few years ago and went on to get more money. From the talk all I could notice was the way his hands moved, his beautifully manly hands. His biceps was carefully wrapped around by the blue short sleeve of his T-shirt. I could only imagine what it would be like to kiss his beard and continue to his chest. Burry myself there. I wondered if he was hairy there just as his arms were.

As I was dreaming about this beautiful specimen I didn't even notice that he made a few slight turns. As he kept talking and I was admiring him, out of the pitch black forest a diner emerged. The same diner we came back from.

I looked at him horrified

"You didn't think that your parents would let you get away? Sorry for the change of your plans for the vacation, but your family needs you and I was promised a lot of money. So I gotta get you back."

Fuck. No. I can't let this happen. I can't go back. I gotta find a way out of here.

The doors were locked, so there was no way I was getting out of there. Begging didn't seem like a valid option. I noticed the time 2:09. It's my birthday. I wonder. If this doesn't work then I am dead. If I don't do anything my family will use me. I can't let the happen.

I concentrated hard enough. I have never swapped before, but I knew how from my family. They all went through it many times.

I felt warmth coming straight from my head, following to my hands.

We were few miles from my home

Now or never

I jumping at him. My right hand grabbing the wheel and turning it to the right. My left hand grabbing his shoulder.

A moment of darkness. For a short glimpse I saw my own face shocked and screaming. Then we hit the tree.

I got out of the car as soon as possible. My body didn't move. I killed him. I did the same thing, like my family to all the others.

I ran to the backseat, grabbed my backpack a ran striaght to the forest. I could hear sirens in the distance. I have to run now.

Present

I think it has been far enough for now. The forest ened with a beautiful large meadow between two massive mountains. Sun already shined and I could slow down for a minute.

I took off my ripped shirt and jeans. If someone saw them they would think that a bear attacked.

In my view were now two beautifully sculpted hairy pecs and even more beautiful abs. I went through every ridge my fingers found. The skin was tigh and warm. After the run I completely forgot I was now Matthew. Not Jake anymore. But Matthew. Beautiful hot sexy Matthew.

I spoke out. What a manly voice I now possess I though. My hand touching my neck and the other my lips and beard as I spoke. I smelled my armpit. The stentch of sweat was extremely strong but erotic. I went to admire my new hairy legs. I slowly started from my strong thighs, through the thick carpet of hair covering them, following to my new feet. I took off the shoes. My feet are massive now.

The last thing I didn't see yet was already awaiting hard. I got completely naked. There I was. A man! A hot sexy man. Sculpted like a statue with a hard and large dick in hand. I jerked off slowly and with my other hand I kept on exploring the already touched areas. I went on to masturbate rapidly just until the streams of cum kept pouring out off me.

I stood there smiling, laughing.

And then the clarity hit. I took Matthew's life. I did that to stop my family, but that didn't make it easier.

There was no going back now. I took my backpack and the rest of my clothes that weren't destroyed, hoping I would get a chance to get some on the way.

"I am Matthew Daniels and I am on a vacation. I am Matthew."

I went into the beautiful nature to continue my journey. I still feel guilty. Maybe the feeling will pass. I hope...

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 7

part 1, prev part

Hospitals brought a sense of comfort to Dustin that he didn’t quite understand. Or felt he could even admit. Somewhere among the bustling doctors and the constant beeping, he’s reminded that people are being saved every day. That the people inside these walls are doing their best to make sure his friends stay alive. And at the end of the day, or week, or month, he’ll be able to talk to them again.

That’s what he tells himself every time he walks through the hospital doors. When he goes to the front desk with a smile and asks if it’s ok he visits his friends. When he reads to Eddie as many days as he can and sits next to Lucas in Max’s room. That this place is the best possible place for them to be. That they will be home soon.

It doesn’t matter that they will be changed, it doesn’t matter that they might not be the same. At the end of the day, their alive. Their still here. Dustin doesn’t have to attend another funeral for his friend. Doesn’t have to get dressed in a stuffy suit and hear words of sorrows from people who didn’t care that much when the person in the ground was alive. Instead, he’ll throw a party so big it will shock the smiles right back onto their faces.

Make the bleak seem light again.

Deep inside though, something he never will admit, his own smile starts to fade every day. Seeing his friends lie unconscious on the bed in the same position they were the day before. Nothing changed. Nothing noticeably different. The same tubes still attached. It’s disheartening seeing the bravest people you know stuck somewhere they can’t leave.

The only difference this time is that Steve is there walking beside him. Discharged the day before, wearing his own clothes. Given an ointment for his scars to make sure they heal right and reduce any swelling that might still occur. One to numb the phantom pains when they come and help when they inevitably itch so bad it makes him want to scratch his skin off. Out of the three people who spent the night in the hospital, Steve was the one with the best outcome.

Which is strange to say, since he did pass out from blood loss and lost a good bit of flesh to those damned bats. Has a scar around his neck from their tails that make people’s head turn to look a second time. Think Steve did something he would never even think of. Couldn’t think of. There was too much here that Steve couldn’t leave behind. That any of them could leave behind.

This group of theirs, it was a family. The biggest and best one that ever lived. Where people stepped in to the roles that were given up. Lost. Never had. People come into each other lives just to make them better. It didn’t matter how they met. Everyone had to meet somehow.

It’s why Dustin keeps coming back day in and day out. Insists that he is family when the receptionist asks. This is what real family does. They stand by each other until the end. Give strength when it’s needed so they can get back up again.

Max is the first stop today. An intensity Dustin’s never felt before waiting for him in the room. Like a cloud of misery rests above their heads. Smacking his smile right off his face.

Lucas’s chin rests on his hands, while his elbows dig into the hospital mattress. He looks at Max with tears in his eyes. She’s asleep, the heart monitor attached to her fingers. Breathing tube still resting in her nostrils, just for assistance. Looking stiff with the casts wrapped around her limbs.

“What happened?” Dustin asks bluntly, pulling a chair to sit next to Lucas. He’d rather get to the point that wander around the subject.

Lucas swallows. “You know they scheduled a bunch of tests now that she’s out of the coma. Well, the eye tests were not that intensive, and she wouldn’t have to stay awake for longer than a few hours to get them done. And-.” He gets cut off when a shaky sob crowds his throat.

“And?” Dustin presses. Trying to be gentle but he’s starting to fear the worst. Already making a list of everything that could go wrong, getting ready to check them off.

He’s done research for this. Went to the library and checked out as many books as possible about nerve damage, eye damage. Scars and PTSD. Anything to make him prepared for any diagnosis. To be the best he could for his friends. Ease his own mind while he’s at it.

But nothing he could have done would have prepared him for the words that leave Lucas’s mouth. How they are so pressing that Lucas has to leave the room. Dustin watches as he steps out with tears streaming down his face. Steve pulling him into a hug before the door shuts behind him.

With all of the possibilities, this was the one that none of them wanted. The one that was the worst of his list. Written last in his mind because of how bad he didn’t want it to happen. Proof that none of them were as invincible as he liked to believe. Wanted to feel.

Max was almost entirely blind.

The room starts to close in around him as he stares at the hospital bed. As the heart monitor persists, getting louder with every thump of Max’s heart. Proof that she’s alive, but not proof for how well she is going to live. The life she will face that is so different than the one she had a week ago. Two years ago.

When they brought Max into this hellscape of a situation, Lucas presented her with a choice. To live happily in ignorance, or face the bitter truth that hides underneath this town. Max made her choice. Dustin has never wished she chose differently more than he did right now.

It was easy to believe that everything would be ok, when nothing really bad ever happened directly to you. Sure, he’s lost people. Almost lost people. But the ones he cared the most about were still here. Still above ground. In the end, Dustin could still walk away smiling.

He doesn’t quite feel like smiling anymore.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

[vilnmelling]

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE SUMMONING

Everyone talks about the Lords in Black's costumes in the Summoning, and the fact that the dance moves rotate in a pentagram, but you know what CRIMINALLY few people talk about?

The dance moves themselves, and how each of the Lords execute them differently.

Pokey's moves are very grand and theatrical, and there's a certain enjoyment in a lot of them. The way he does some of them makes it look like he thinks HE'S the one in the middle; he's the one the show is all about. Pokey's not just dancing for the summoning. Pokey's putting on a show, his own musical performance (sounds familiar?)

Blinky's the stiffest and most static with his moves. His legs are straight the entire time, and unlike the others, he doesn't move his head that much for some moves. Between the spouts of singing and dancing, he moves the least. Perhaps because Blinky's not often the one getting personally involved. He's not the one your attention is pulled to when he's doing his evil shit. No, you're the star, he's just watching. Therefore, he's not extravagant or fluent in his dancing. He's static, so he can still watch. (I also must point out how he frames his eye during his first move)

Tinky's fucking erratic. His moves are BIG, and they're uncontrolled. He looks like he's barely in control of his own limbs (during the "Whatever we want" part, his arms look like they're about to pop out of their sockets), and during many moves, he wiggles his head in a way that makes him look like one of those bobble-headed dolls. On top of that, he's very bouncy on a lot of the choreo. Tinky's pure insanity in the way he moves.

Nibbly's by far the smoothest and most fluent. Very few of his moves are sharp, all of them kind of blending into each other. They give the feeling that if motions of the human body would make sound, Nibbly's dancing would almost be quiet. You can see this the very best in the way he does the choreo for the "La la la la la, la" — especially in the proshot! Overall, there's an eerie sense to the fluidity of his movements, almost like he's a predator sneaking up on a prey.

Wiggly's sharp and precise as hell, but not in the same way as Blinky. While Blinky's a static and still kind of sharp, Wiggly's an eye-pulling and threatening kind of sharp. How sharply and precisely he's dancing here, that's how sharply and precisely he could snap your neck if he wanted to. Simply by looking at his dancing, you can tell that he's the leader, and that oh yeah, you're being threatened right now. (Another detail to note: in the move where they lean back and forth, putting their hands down and up, Wiggly's the only one who points his fingers downwards instead of upwards, once again mimicking his tentacles (another nother thing to note: his hands never leave the tentacle imitation, AKA Jon's index and middle finger are always stuck together)).

This has been a dancer's take on the Lords in Black's dancing during The Summoning, thanks for tuning in

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for lying to my friends and causing someone to end their life?

🫐☎️🧼 

So I can find this later

Trigger warning for suicide. 

In this situation I'm aware I fucked up badly multiple times, but I want to know for sure whether I was in the wrong. I went through the FAQ to check that this submission is okay and sorry if there's something disqualifying it I didn catch!

I (minor) was active in an online group where I made some online friends. The group was for preteens, teens, and very young adults (13-21.) I befriended one person, Blueberry (fake name, because emoji) and we became close over a few months. At one point they admitted they had a crush on me I didn't feel the same, but we agreed to stay friends and it didn't affect the friendship.

One thing about this group is that it was aimed at mental health. Me and this person had similar problems with depression and suicidal thoughts (both actively suicidal) and often talked when one of us was in a dark place. When Blueberry turned 18 things took a turn for the worst. Multiple times a week they had panic attacks (they were in the process of getting diagnosed with OCD and bad intrusive thoughts) or crisis and attempted several times. I got overwhelmed. Instead of establishing a boundary like I should have, I started ghosting them for a few hours if it got too bad. It got to the point I'd log on once or twice a day to check in, but instead of ever chatting, the conversation always ended in their next plan to kill themselves. This one was my fault, as we'd had casual convos about this stuff in the main group. I and others did what we could to help, like providing support and helplines. Blueberry did contact many and it saved them lots. 

By this point Blueberry had done lots of other risky stuff. They lashed out and blocked a lot of mutual friends, made a fake account to pretend to be a young teen at one point (but deleted it when I asked), and other things. I didn't want to lose them as a friend so I covered for Blueberry when it was exposed. I should point out Blueberry was never mean to me they were really nice. They liked to learn about my interests and complimented me and others lots and I tried to do the same (learn about what they liked, tell them I was happy to hear from them, etx)

Obviously people of the group felt betrayed when they found out Blueberry was catfishing them as this younger teen. In Blueberry's own words, I was "the only one they could trust." Blueberry admitted again that they wanted to be more than friends, but since they were now 18 and I was still a few years younger than them I asked to just be friends because the age gap was uncomfy. They were okay with it. The next day, Blueberry said goodbye to me and deleted their account. I was really upset by this and we talked one last time where I wished them well and said how much I'd miss them but didn't think something was seriously wrong because Blueberry and me had discussed them leaving the group before because it was hurting their mental health. 

Later a friend of both Blueberry and me reached out about their behavior the days before they left and some conversations I hadn't seen. All of us are pretty sure they didn't just delete their account—they killed themself. The goodbye message proved this. I was upset and angry that they were dead, said sorry to the group for lying to them about Blueberry catfishing, and left the group.

I think I may be the asshole here because I was really selfish here in not wanting to address Blueberry's really creepy catfishing (pretending to be a young teen, which knowing that they had romantic feelings for me could have led to them befriending people lots younger than them which is bad) because I didn't want to lose the friendship, and also because if I hadn't ghosted Blueberry using mental health as an excuse I don't think they would have killed themselves. If I am the asshole here, what could I do better next time if I have a similar problem again? 

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

au where vaggie has another little secret she didn't even know was a secret still (spoiler it's Mortality) (spoiler charlie Isn't Happy) and when she sits down with charlie for a hotel talk it goees like (TRAUMATIC EMOTIONAL SPEED RUN AAAAHAHAHA)

Vaggie: "Alright sweetie, the hotel's going good so far, one soul redeemed, minimal fire damage this week, so we should probably start planning for the next hundred years of operations."

Charlie: "YAY!!! Planning planning planning~ What's first on the list??"

Vaggie: "Start looking for a replacement manager."

Charlie: "You don't wanna keep being manager? OH- we can be CO-FOUNDERS together! WE COULD HAVE A PARTY FOR IT! And plan for the next one too- Charlie and Vaggie's centennial wow the hotel is still here celebration...!"

Vaggie: "That's sweet, but I'll be dead by then either way, so we still need to deal with the staffing shortage before then."

Charlie: "....dead... tired?"

Vaggie: "Dead as in dead. Doornail style."

Charlie: "What?"

Vaggie: "Expired. Shit, when did we last check the hotel fridge..."

Charlie: "Vaggie wait, I'm, I'm not hearing you right, what are you saying?"

Vaggie: "Heaven born don't live forever? Especially not down in hell, turns out."

Charlie: "I don't understand."

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Sweetie, thanks for ignoring my eyebags and zombie groans while getting out of bed in the morning- but my wings are already GREY, for fuck's sake."

Charlie: "Yes they're, grey. Beautiful and- aren't they supposed to be-?"

Vaggie: "And I'm pretty sure it's not just from the stress of running a business for a few months. Being hotel manager isn't that hard."

Vaggie: "....Mostly. Compared to, some things...." (sigh)

Vaggie: "Think anyone would believe that if we put it in the want ad?"

Charlie: "But-"

Vaggie: "No buts. We really need to get a head start on this."

Charlie: "....but you're a winner."

Vaggie: (SNORTS) "In my dating life, yeah. Anyway-"

Charlie: "But none of the other exorcists' wings are grey! So, so THEY aren't aging- so YOU aren't aging!!"

Vaggie: "They've got halos to protect them from the whole physically getting old thing-"

Charlie: "Halos???"

Vaggie: "-so we- they- can keep fit and ready for fighting our- THEIR whole lives, but duh we don't live forever. Lute and Adam left me here to die, not chill for all eternity."

Charlie: "Wh.. but-"

Vaggie: "Can you imagine how much heaven would've freaked if one of their actually immortal souls had gotten killed down here in hell...? But it was just one of us Adam's girls, and it was up to him to deal with it. With more murder. Bastard."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh.... Charlie?"

Charlie: "....your mortal?"

Vaggie: "I'm, yeah.... wait, Charlie..."

Vaggie: "...people know that about exorcists, right? You didn't... think heaven would risk putting winners in their rank and file army and send them down to hell?"

Charlie: "I thought you were a sinner."

Vaggie: "Hostia- right. I keep forgetting, they don't get old do they?"

Charlie: "Sinners don't. They get killed but they don't just. Die."

Vaggie: "I'm sorry. I thought- I really should've told you-"

Charlie: "Angels aren't supposed to die either."

Vaggie: "We did a good job proving that wrong. Exhibit A, Adam's corpse."

Charlie: "He was KILLED- it's not the same!"

Vaggie: "And angels aren't the same either. There's a lot of different kinds in creation- most of us aren't in the higher orders, there's waaaay more exorcists than seraphim."

Charlie: "But heaven is still supposed to be HEAVEN! People don't DIE in heaven! That wouldn't be Heaven! How could- how could it ever be HAPPY up there if, if- if people still left!?"

Vaggie: "Oh, sweetie... the only people who've earned a heaven like that are the winners. The rest of us are just-"

Charlie: "Just what? JUST, WHAT???"

Vaggie: "We're there to make heaven a good place for them. Keep it running smooth and safe. Mostly it's the higher ups who deal with winners personally, the rest of us stay back and stick to our jobs, try to keep some distance so no one... gets too attached... shit that sounded a lot less fucked up before I said it out loud-"

Vaggie: "Look- it's like that with hellborn too isn't it? The imps and hellhounds and-"

Charlie: "NO! YES? But this is HELL! Of course it hurts and isn't fair! You're not FROM hell it's not supposed to BE like that for you!"

Vaggie: "Or for my girlfriend."

Charlie: "I'm not the one who's dying!"

Vaggie: "You're kinda freaking-"

Charlie: "IM NOT FREAKING OUT!!"

Vaggie: "Right. I meant, you should've had more warning. I'm sorry I didn't say... I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

Charlie: "WELL I WAS! And I'm not- we're not losing that."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "We're getting you your halo back."

Vaggie: "Pretty sure it's already been recycled-"

Charlie: "THEN WE'RE FINDING ONE FROM ONE OF THE DEAD EXORCISTS and you are WEARING IT until we FIX THIS."

Vaggie: "Sweetie- heaven collected all the halos from our battle-"

Charlie: "They didn't pick up all the spears and stuff, maybe they also missed-"

Vaggie: "No they wouldn't have. Halos aren't, they're not like the weapons. Heaven doesn't care if sinners kill each other with some left behind divine steel, but a halo? They store and conduct heavenly power or whatever. No one's gonna leave one of them lying around."

Charlie: "Fine. FINE- let me think-"

Vaggie: "Can we think less and focus more on you not shaking like a damn leaf first? C'mon, sit down-"

Charlie: "-the angel Carmilla killed. We'll use that one."

Vaggie: "We could use a deep breath right now."

Charlie: "It's head was missing when heaven picked up the body."

Vaggie: "Yeah? An Overlord probably has it hanging on their wall, big whoop, Charlie please slow down-"

Charlie: "If it's head was left behind then maybe it's halo was too! If we find the Overlord-"

Vaggie: "No. No more deals with Overlords."

Charlie: "I'll make as many damn deals with them as I want!"

Vaggie: "But not for ME, alright! If it's about me then you don't get to sell your fucking soul! Or bind it or whatever! You can't make me be the reason for that!"

Charlie: "Vaggie- we NEED that halo."

Vaggie: "No we don't. I don't."

Charlie: "You're dying without it!"

Vaggie: "I KNOW I am. But that's just, life!"

Charlie: "LIFE? Dying so soon isn't-!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, you're half seraphim. You mom was the original demon, your view on life expectancies is kinda skewed."

Charlie: "You said the halos let you live longer!"

Vaggie: "I said they keep us young. It's not the same thing."

Charlie: "It's still SOMETHING!"

Vaggie: "We don't even know that would help at this point, I've been in hell for years-"

Charlie: "Oh so we shouldn't even try!? Just, sit back and go 'well we haven't don't anything to stop this but I guess it was just completely unavoidable'-"

Vaggie: "It probably WON'T help. No, listen- It worked up in heaven and for short runs down here- that doesn't mean it'd have any power to draw on in hell. It's probably just a fancy looking hoop down here."

Charlie: "Then we'll get you back to heaven until we can make it work."

Vaggie: "I'm not going back to fucking heaven!"

Charlie: "AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU STAY HERE AND DIE!"

Vaggie: "You can't kick me out- this is OUR hotel, not just yours."

Charlie: "YOU- you-"

Vaggie: "We need. To calm down."

Charlie: "CALM DOWN! Every second you spend down here your body is-"

Vaggie: "Not dying anytime soon, okay? I'm fine. This whole talk has gone way too far way, way to fast. That's my fault for not thinking about all this sooner, but. Just. Take a breath. Let's just take a breath, take a break, and come back to this when we're both had a moment."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "Did you plan all this."

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Owning the hotel together. Making sure you couldn't be forced out of hell."

Vaggie: "That's not why we started the hotel-"

Charlie: "No, that's not what I was thinking when we started it. But were you?"

Vaggie: "Charlie... you're connecting dots that aren't there..."

Charlie: "You're here. You're here and dying and don't want to leave."

Vaggie: "I'd be dying up in heaven too."

Charlie: "But your wings wouldn't already be GREY, would they?"

Vaggie: "They'd still be an exorcist's wings, if I'd never left-"

Charlie: "Well they're not anymore and going back wouldn't change that. All it would do is help you stay alive."

Vaggie: "I don't want that life."

Charlie: "It's that or die."

Vaggie: "You're being dramatic-"

Charlie: "You've always said you liked that about me. Was that a lie too?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "Do you want to die, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Of course I don't- I could've just let Lute-"

Charlie: "Die, not be killed. Does it make you feel better about all the people you've killed? You'll die and join them, sooner rather than later?"

Vaggie: "......."

Vaggie: "... I want. To spend my life. With you."

Charlie: "No you don't." (voice cracking) "You can't do that when you're dead."

Vaggie: "That's not my fault."

Charlie: "Your choice though, right?"

Vaggie: "It’s not same thing-"

Charlie: "Yes it is. You want to be one who leaves."

Vaggie: "....... wouldn't you?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I don't.... want it to b- be like this."

Vaggie: "I know."

Charlie: "I want US! Not like this."

Vaggie: "I know, sweetie, I know... I'm so sorry-"

Charlie: "Stop it." (muffled in vaggie's hair) "You don't want this either, stop apologizing for it!"

Vaggie: "... I shouldn't have let you think, it could be different."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "It will be."

Vaggie: "Okay. Denial, that's a, normal step in-"

Charlie: "No- It WILL BE. I- We going to- we'll MAKE it different."

Vaggie: "I don't think we can..."

Charlie: "We will."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "Damnit just trust me! If we can save a sinner's soul, then we can f-fucking save you."

Vaggie: "....."

Charlie: "Please, Vaggie. Can we try?"

Vaggie: "...it'll be a waste of time."

Charlie: "No it won't."

Vaggie: "We're already not gonna have forever together, sweetie. Why not just. Enjoy what we do have?"

Charlie: "I will! We will."

Charlie: "But we're going to have longer than one century for it."

Vaggie: "Half that, maybe..."

Charlie: "That's not the sound of trying. Vaggie. Please."

Vaggie: "...well... if you're gonna look at me like that about it..."

Charlie: "Don't joke about this."

Vaggie: "I'm not." (smile) "I just know better than to doubt Charlie Morningstar when she gets an idea into her cute, stubborn head."

Charlie: "All my head needs right now is an answer. One word. Clear. Honest."

Vaggie: "... alright. Yes. We can try."

Charlie: "Thank you." (kiss) "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Vaggie: "But you have to promise me. No deals. No selling souls- not for my sake, not even a little bit. Got it?"

Charlie: "Why are you so strict about this-"

Vaggie: "Because it's your soul."

Charlie: "-people make deals all the time! YOU made one with-"

Vaggie: "And it creeped me out even though it wasn't with my soul. Do you promise?"

Charlie: "This is a heaven thing isn't it?"

Vaggie: "Do you promise."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "I won't make, deals with anyone in hell, to save you."

Vaggie: (breathes out) "Then... we'll start by talking to Carmilla tomorrow."

Charlie: "TOMORROW!? But that-"

Vaggie: "Will give us time to figure out what we actually wanna SAY to Carmilla. She's still an Overlord, Charlie. Any info we give her she'll want to sure to keep her family safe first."

Charlie: "I know the fucking feeling..."

Vaggie: "So we're slowing this down and doing things carefully, so we do them right. Right?"

Charlie: "Right." (grumbling) "Fools rush in- blah blah BLAH."

Vaggie: "That's my girl."

Vaggie: (hesitates) (tentative smooch)

Vaggie: "Feeling better?"

Charlie: "Fine. I wish you'd stop asking ME that."

Vaggie: "Just glad you're not shaking so much anymore. Kinda scared me for a second."

Charlie: "I'm fine." (sighs) (hugs vaggie) "I didn't mean..."

Vaggie: "I didn't mean to scare you, too."

Charlie: "It's fine. You'll be okay."

Vaggie: "Mm. Already am."

Charlie: "And we're NOT looking for a replacement hotel manager."

Vaggie: "We're gonna need-"

Charlie: "NO."

Vaggie: "-okay. We'll hold off on it. We've got time."

Charlie: (holds her closer) (glares at distant light of heaven)

[blessedbygookim]

Fuck it.

The Queen Of Busan.

16 year old Goo and Gun, on their way to see this through.

Part one: the meeting.

Part two: defeated.

(This is my first story in a while, be nice. 🥲)

also huge thanks and hugs and kisses to @sscarletvenus for encouraging me and giving advice when procrastinating writing 🫶🏻

"Are you sure we're at the right place?"

Comes the question from the raven haired man.

"Yupp, I’m sure."

The response comes from the faux blonde after a second of silence, followed by a pop of his lips.

Goo and Gun both observe the bustling city, as the blonde looks a little impatient with his hands in his pockets. Gun lets out a soft sigh as he glances out onto the streets from under his sunglasses. His cold black scleras give away only the most minute detail about his thoughts, though as he remains completely expressionless, giving away no more than he wants to.

Both of them stood in Busan, in front of a pretty lavish looking restaurant. Word has spread, that apparently, an unknown person came in like a thunderstorm. A whirlwind of power that swept through the streets of the whole city, in the matter of months establishing themselves as the new head of Busan.

Gun keeps his eyes on the scene before them, observing the busy streets with their many patrons who possibly frequent the area. A faint smirk can be seen curling the corners of his lips as his hand moves into his pockets, leaning back against the brick wall he's standing at the moment.

Goo on the other hand can be seen casually leaning against the wall next to Gun, a faint smirk gracing his face as he casually watches the city in front of him. There is a casualness in their stances that seems unnatural, almost as if they are already in charge; in a stance best suited for villainesses, or in their cases, cocky and delusional teenagers.

For a minute or so they just stand outside looking around, Gun's expression turns as stone cold as his black irises, before he finally walks over to the door and opens it, stepping inside, with Goo following closely behind.

Finally turning to face the blonde haired man beside him, Gun speaks. Keeping his tone low and calm.

"So you're telling me that this new mysterious person is in this restaurant, right now?"

The blonde man nods his head at the calm and quiet tone of voice he has to speak.

"He has to be, I traced the source back to here and there's no where else to look for now."

He gestures more into the restaurant as he speaks, sounding almost nervous and excited at the same time.

"Are you ready to go in and try to talk to him already so we can get this over with?"

"Yes, now would you please try and keep a low profile this time? I'd rather not to have another incident like last time."

Gun says as he pulls the other man gently by the shoulder, stepping into the crowded restaurant with a slight huff from the both of them.

The blonde man nods his head at Gun's requests, following right behind Gun with a soft smirk still gracing his face. The man was the complete opposite of Gun most of the time, being very charismatic and talkative.

"You know how difficult that is for me, right?"

He says, taking a few steps right with Gun to keep up with him.

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

Gun's cold eyes scans the crowd slowly, his hands moving out from his pockets now. It's a pretty fancy establishment, with quite a lot of people inside. They know nothing about how this person looks like, so they have no idea who to look for, and unfortunately, none of them stood out to Gun.

"This'll be harder than I expected." Gun says, speaking more to himself than anyone else. He lets out a slight sigh as he pushes his way through the crowd. “Perhaps we should ask one of the waiters.. I heard this establishment is under the head’s surveillance anyway.”

The playful smile curls further up on the blonde man's face, but purses his lips with a slight shrug.

"That's not a bad idea to do. Who should be the one to seek out a waiter?"

He says, looking at him with a playful smirk reaching the edge of his eyes. What's with this place employing good looking people? Goo can't help but notice this fact. Both waiters and waitresses are stunning, which made him think it must be a requirement to be good looking to work at this restaurant.

Gun lets out a small exhale, knowing it will be him stepping up and flag down a waiter, since he was the more mature one after all- or so he liked to think.

"Yes, how may I help you?"

Spoke the waiter, his tone of voice is polite and soft, professional.

"We were wondering if the person in charge of this establishment is around right now, we've heard about a lot of people speaking highly of him lately."

Gun says calmly, speaking in a very neutral tone as he doesn't show any hints of emotion at the moment. The waiter listens carefully to their request for a few seconds before speaking up again, his tone staying polite and soft, but now it also contains a subtle hint of suspicion as he raises his eyebrows at them a little.

"I apologise, but may I ask who you're looking for specifically?"

The waiter is extremely courteous and professional, though it's clear from the subtle hints in his questions that the man probably has some suspicion that they aren't as innocent as they claim to be.

"Well... the head... of the city in a way..."

Goo shrugs, unsure of what to say and how to get his words across. Because how would you ask of someone feared through the city, especially civilians?

“We've heard of this new mysterious figure who has recently claimed power here in Busan, the city seems to be a lot safer than it was before he rose to power.” Gun continues calmly, he feels the waiter's skepticism at the two boys, as he feels that he won't believe that they are simply 'curious'. "We'd like to meet him."

Letting out a soft hum of realization, seeming to be understanding now of what they meant as his brow lowered and his expression turned into a more curious demeanor, as a faint smile appeared on his lips as be speaks again.

"Are you referring to the Queen of Busan?"

Both Gun and Goo glance at each other as those words leave the man’s lips with eyebrows raised.

Queen..?

A female..?

Was this a joke?

The waiter did not seem afraid of the question at all, nor introducing this new head of their scene but seemed more... excited? Exhilarated? Prideful? Almost boastful?

"Yes...?"

Goo responds, more of a question itself rather than a clear answer, even more confused and unsure than before.

The waiter's expression quickly turns from one of curiosity to excitement, as the waiter's tone brightened up and even his stance loosened.

"Right this way." The waiter says as he quickly motions towards the back of the restaurant. After a few seconds of walking and following the waiter into a corner part of the restaurant, they spot a woman sitting, all alone.

"Good afternoon, Miss Nova. I apologize for disturbing your lunch time, but these two gentlemen are looking for you, the Queen Of Busan."

The waiter speaks to the woman, and if their mouths weren't already in the midst of falling open, the moment the woman peaks out from beside the waiter, is the same moment both their jaws land on the floor from the beauty that she is.

The new boss of Busan, the strongest person in the city is indeed, a woman.

It’s safe to say they were both caught by surprise. They were of course expecting the 'queen' of this city to be a force to reckon with, but they were absolutely caught off guard by the beauty of this woman. Goo's eyes scanned the woman from top to bottom as Gun's expression remained as cold and stoic as ever.

No body guards, no crew members surrounding her. She was eating all alone, with no supervision, but they immediately take it as a sign that she is the right person to talk to, as someone who can run a city like this with no bodyguards is more than likely an incredibly strong individual.

“Thank you Dohkwa, you may leave.”

The woman, by name, Nova says, bowing softly as she thanks the waiter, who bows deeply, and walks off.

“Take a seat, gentlemen.”

She finally sets her attention on them, gesturing to the two empty seats in front of her, on the other side of the table. The duo both walk towards the seats she indicated them to sit on, their eyes still locked onto her the whole time. Gun is the first one to speak.

“So.. you’re the new head of Busan..?”

She nods softly.

“I am.”

Her tone was incredibly soft, tantalizing despite his condescending tone when addressing her. Eyes kind and gentle, a set of light grey orbs that had a certain glint of ferocity in them. Long, icy blonde locks, slightly tan skin, body carved by the gods, for sure had taken their time on her. There was a strong allure to her that almost seemed inhuman. She was like an enchantress, casting a spell on the both of them with her presence alone, as if they were being lulled into something.

It was hard to believe that such a delicate looking woman could be the new head of the city, however that was just the result of their bias that the leader had to be a man.

“What can I do for you?”

Shaking his slight daze away, with a clear of his throat, Gun is the first to speak up. Keeping it as polite as she is being right now, tone monotonous.

“We were sent here by our employer to see you.”

A small hum is heard from her.

“Have you now? Interesting...”

She mutters out, arms crossing in front of her chest as she places them on the table by her elbows, her eyes shifting to Gun who simply nods at her question.

“Do tell me why so.~”

The both of them listen intently to her question, still trying to focus on their mission and not get completely charmed by her.

For a few months, both of them had been going around and scouting out crews to join The Four Major Crews and extort money from them, one hundred million won every month exactly. They already have two crews ready, and they need two more. Sinu is in charge of Big Deal, and Eugene is in the works of getting The Workers up and running. Even though their plan was to only get crews running around Seoul, in close proximities.. perhaps having one in Busan which is a little further away, wasn’t such a bad thing.

"We've heard that the city life here is a lot safer lately. We're curious what you did to achieve that, in such a short amount of time."

“Well… I assume you’re very aware that sometimes violence can only be solved with–well, more violence.”

The woman starts with a gentle manner after a moment of pondering, even though the topic is the furthest thing away from gentle. A plate of red velvet cakes sliced up, and with two chocolate muffins companied by small dessert forks being placed in front of all three of them by a waiter as she continues.

“I got rid of the morally corrupt individuals and their gang related activities, dissected harmful crews through Busan, took on their business, and rolled all their money right back with better results. Lowering the rent, polishing their business aspirations, better accounting, and being kind to them. Helping out struggling businesses and establishments by lending them money without any plus fees, nor did I expect them to pay me back... but since they're so kind, they still did. Which I greatly appreciate.”

Goo is still completely entranced by her beautiful appearance and her voice alone. Not only is she attractive but her mannerisms and demeanor only amplify the charm that she exudes by several hundred times. His mind seemed completely blank. The entire time he listened, he didn't even realize his mouth had slowly opened as he continued to stare at her. He quickly snapped himself back into reality as he heard Gun speak.

“What you did was certainly genius…”

Gun, on the other hand, appears to be more composed as he still needs to keep his cool for their meeting with her. The food being placed in front of them was a welcome addition to the meeting.

“I like to say it’s just kindness. It doesn’t cost me anything, and even though many people fail to realize it, sometimes it gets you further than just being violent, and extort these people after working them like dogs.”

Gun's expression remained unchanged even as she spoke, but he did acknowledge her way of handling the city. Despite not showing it, he felt quite impressed about her methods, but he still had one specific thing to ask her. Despite them being hardened bodyguards and exceptional fighters filled with experience and countless skills under their belts, they were intrigued by this woman's methods and actions as the boss of Busan.

So then why? Why be so kind? No catches either?

Gun, with his unwavering composure, was the first one to speak up. Like always, he kept his cool and still looked at her with a neutral expression.

"Why did you choose to be kind? There are so many other options. Usually leaders of gangs aren't the best people you can meet, nor they are very kind. So I can't help but ask myself why you aren't as heartless as everyone else."

There was no way she was just being nice for the fun of it. He refused to believe that in such world, one that he was also apart of and knew very well- people like her existed and not yet trampled flat by people like his own caliber.

“Wouldn’t you think it’s a nice change of scenery?”

She asks with a faint smile, a knowing, proud look in her eyes as she gestures around the establishment with the small fork in her hand.

“Does anyone look like they're in fear of me being here? Or does anyone look overworked? I think people are absolutely flourishing.~”

Both men look around the restaurant as they listen to her, and they realize that the staff and civilians are indeed behaving exactly as she says. They seem to be happy under her rule, and no one is in fear of her presence, even going as far as to say they’re even more radiant with her presence also in the building. Lively, filled with chatter and beaming faces. There was a certain joy and happiness in their expressions that hadn't been witnessed before under others’ leadership.

Maybe an exception was Big Deal. She really is turning out to be very similar to them. Passion and romance for sure were part of her ideologies.

Gun turns back in his seat, his eyes staying locked onto her figure. He could see the kind and gentle eyes that she held as she looked at the two of them after speaking her words, even though it probably wasn’t aimed at them.

A smirk slowly crosses Gun's face as a thought pops into his mind, the wheels of his brain turning.

No extortion of money? Really?

"If you don't do extortion or run any illegal businesses, how do you have so much money? Your way of handling the city is admirable, but you still must have a source of income right?"

“Skincare businesses, tobacco and cigarette companies, hotels, restaurants, hair salons, beauty shops all around the city- make a generous amount ever since I took over.”

She responds before taking a long overdue bite of her dessert.

Both Gun and Goo were slightly dumbfounded as to how many of the business are actually under her surveillance.

And that they were completely legal.

While swallowing, a curious glint appears in her eyes as she narrows them gently.

“Tell me, why so interested about my businesses or my position?”

Gun took some time to collect his thoughts before finally responding. However before he could even get halfway through forming the first syllable, Goo suddenly blurts out a question of his own out of genuine curiosity.

"Are you single?"

The question made Gun whip his head over to Goo, giving him a death stare out of irritation.

Is he fucking serious right now..?

As deep of a holes Gun was blasting right through his sunglasses, right into Joongoo’s skull went completely ignored by the blonde, who was nothing but a young man filled with curiosity and admiration… and hormones of course. A vein throbs across Gun's forehead as a look of pure annoyance forms on his face at his question. It's clear that he was very close to beating the life out of him on the spot as he takes a deep breath before speaking up in a stern voice.

“Are you kidding me? We're not here to make the most out of your libido. We're here on a job. So stop acting like a degenerate for 1 second and get focused.”

Even though this was something more than unprofessional, especially in such moment, the woman couldn’t help but scoff out a small laugh through her nose, a small smirk pulling on the corners of her lips.

“I am, and I will continue to remain so.”

At that, Goo purses his lips into a small pout, body hunching over. Bummer.

Well, at least he still has his first love; money. At least that will never reject him.

Either way, Gun lets out another sigh, focusing his attention back on the woman.

“I apologize about him and for his existence. To answer your question- and I will keep this as transparent and as honest as possible- we've been looking for another faction to extort money from. More faction to complete Charles's plan of kickstarting his new business.. and you and your businesses would be a great fit.”

At that, she lets out an amused hum.

“I refuse.”

As expected.

After all, it was a ridiculous request to begin with. The both of them were expecting it, not at all surprised, but still slightly disappointed.

“I will not help someone unknown to me climb the stairs of success. I wouldn't want my hard work be flipped upside down, make my people work their fingers to the bone and take their money, only to flip it into your boss's pockets.”

Nova concluded, and both are silent for a few seconds.

Gun nods at her in acknowledgment while Goo pouts once more, seeming quite pissed that the woman who he was so attracted to didn't immediately say something along the lines of ‘anything for you, honey’. Again, the duo sit in silence for a moment until Goo speaks up, finally having formed a coherent thought.

"You don't care about making money, huh?"

“Correct. Especially not for your boss.”

She shrugs, expressions conveying she doesn't even want to have this argument by this point. Her decision is set in stone.

“Not everything is about profit to some.”

Her words failed to resonate with them. To them, it was. To be bigger and more powerful, and of course make as much money as they want, even if crossing boundaries. Money was an important necessity to both of them, and they couldn't understand the way she was able to refuse something that could easily help her.

Gun leans back into his seat slightly as a look of slight skepticism fills his eyes

"Aside from your kindness, I can't understand one thing. You're the boss of a city, yet you don't care about money... what about power? Status? Why don't you ever use violence or illegal activities to run the city like every other boss?"

“Because I am not like any other boss. I don’t lead gangs. Power means nothing, especially when in return I gain enemies and be despised. Why be cruel when,- as you can clearly see,- being kind took me far enough, if not further than any other.”

Her answers hit Goo like a truck, he couldn't help but be in disbelief of how much he respected her now. Her morals and logic are all so different and he can't help but admire her for it in a way. He stares at her and he has a genuine shock and surprise on his face, he was actually finding himself to be in disbelief at how amazing this woman is. Meanwhile Gun is now starting to get irritated as he realizes she has no intention to be under the hierarchy of someone else.

“I sure do hope so that just because I said no, neither of you are planning to cause a ruckus in any of my businesses or establishments in the city.”

She says bluntly, face unnervingly blank this time as she speaks. This was the first warning of someone's seemingly bright and generous exterior showing some peeks of her actual feelings.

Overprotectiveness.

Both men sit calmly in their chairs as she speaks, their calm yet menacing and intimidating auras filling the air as they listen to her words. As she speaks, Gun's eyes narrow slightly. The only hint she gets of him having any negative feelings is the vein slightly throbbing on his temple as he listens to her speak.

Gun's jaw tightens in slight anger as his fingers dig slightly into the table while Goo lets out a sigh, his expression becoming slightly agitated as a sly grin creeps across his face.

"I can't speak for this idiot," Gun says while gesturing towards Goo "but me on the other hand..."

Well, was just the same.

At first he thought lulling her into a false sense of security could work.

She wasn’t stupid of course.

She seemed harmless enough, and both of them were deprived of any empathy anyway. This was only business.

Before Gun could even think about springing to his feet and lunge over the table, just the slight twitch of his body, the minor shift in the air was enough to trigger what happened next.

Perhaps it was less than a fraction of a millisecond, like a blink of an eye as Gun opens them to spot her fork piercing into his sunglasses. Just enough to not stab him right in his eyes, but just enough that the teeth of the fork didn't reach his irises as she threw it.

“Don't even think about causing a scene. There are children beside parents in this establishment, and employees whose families are waiting for them to get home at the end of the day.”

Hand still in the position of the previous flick of her wrist, she utters out. Low, deep, not wanting to attract any attention, eyes flashing with a slight glow before disappearing.

To say that he was not expecting that reaction from her was a drastic understatement.

Goo, on the other hands, was more than surprised by her sudden action, but couldn't help his mouth from drooling slightly, looking at her with amazement at how fast she whipped her fork out to fling it into his sunglasses.

Neither of them would've expected her to react so fast, making both of them freeze in shock like a deer in headlights.

Gun could feel that he's completely and utterly defeated with no possibility of standing a chance against her, which was a thought just as rare as Kyawthuite crystals. And for the first time, he felt like the situation he's in is far more serious than he initially thought.

How did she throw it so fast? Without neither of them even noticing, neither of them feeling her even make a movement. Especially with such agility and she done it so that it didn't pierce his eyes, but was scary enough to get her point across. The second warning, and they couldn't help but want it to be the last.

...why did they obey so fast? Was it her tone? So blunt and commanding, laced with violence? Or her eyes that bore holes through their head such way it almost gave them the feeling of lasers sizzling their way through their skins? The way she was emitting such blood lust in that moment it sent a ripple or fear and excitement down both their spine?.. or her agility?..yes, it was all of the above.

After a few moments of shock, Gun can't help but let out a small laugh, his tense body calming slightly as his eyes lock onto the woman in front of him after he takes his glasses off. Goo, on the the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off of Nova, his eyes filled with genuine admiration, admiration to the point where he was just slightly shivering from how overwhelming it was.

Gun is the first one to finally speak after her warning and his laugh, his tone still filled with slight irritation mixed with amusement as he holds his, now destroyed accessory.

"Well... point taken. We will now both take our leave and let you enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

"While you can." He thinks to himself.

So this is the Queen Of Busan.

Perhaps their defeat happened before an actual fight could have taken place, and who's to say she wouldn't have won, even one against two? It was a terrifying thought to have.

“Good. Because I don't feel the need to continue communicating my feelings on the ridiculous of the endeavor I'm currently engaged in any further.”

Goo can't help himself but speak up, a grin on his face as he gazes at Nova in bewilderment while they stand up.

"Damn, you're so badass! I knew you were a 10/10 from the moment I laid eyes on you but I did not expect you to be so incredibly cool. Can you throw another fork at my glasses too?"

Gun doesn't even feel the need to make a comment about his idiocy, just taking a firm grasp of his hood and starts dragging him out of the place while Goo can't help but let out choking noises, but lets himself get ultimately dragged away from the woman he can't help but stare at longingly.

Gun can be seen taking a better look at his sunglasses once they're both out of the premises, after Goo had shaken his grasp off with a whine.

"Man what the fuck! I was about to shoot my shot!!"

Comes the annoyed exclamation from the faux blonde.

As per usual, Gun just rolls his eyes at his comment, as well as the tantrum he was having, his expression being a mix of slight irritation and annoyance.

"First of all: you wouldn't have gotten anywhere near winning her over. Second of all: quit acting like a degenerate. You're acting like a child."

Goo doesn't even respond to what Gun said, a palm flat against the window while pouting and staring at Nova through the window outside of the restaurant.

Not looking like a weirdo at all with those puppy dog eyes and jutted out bottom lip as he mumbles to himself.

"I'll miss you..."

[amell333]

His own personal desk pet. S.R

HELLO this is my fist ever fic pls Iwould love to hear what you guys think and i hope you will like my first ever fic! enjoy!

!!English is not my first languge!!

summary: Spencer like having you sitting near or on his desk, he like being able to have you close to him so he can hold you, but sometimes forgets you're not the only onse there. but can you blame him he loves having his own personal desk pet. especially one as cute and pretty as you. but just bc you can doesn't mean others can.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Content Warnings: none really just dr Reid being cute and needy. And reader being a litte embarrassed. just fluff yk.

Spencer had never really liked the idea of physical contact with another person. He didn’t like handshakes nor sitting too close to people where they were almost touching. Going his way out to mostly avoid having to touch another person. You could say he is a bit of a germophobe if you would.

But that was before you.

Everybody at the BAU knew Doctor Spencer Reid had a massive soft spot for you, ever since you walked in the doors at the FBI, the moment he laid his eyes on you he knew he was hit, Spencer had fallen for a person he didn’t even know the name of at the time, hell even the whole FBI knew how much he liked you, everyone except you. For a member of the BAU you had an extremely impressive knowledge on criminals and murder, but when it came to love you were facing a wall almost stupid on the subject of love.

You were so oblivious that you never noticed how all of his rules was thrown out the window the second you it came to you. You never noticed how his touches would linger on you’re shoulder when explaining something to you or how he would scooch closer to you when you all set at the round table going over a case, or in the jet how the seat next to you was always reserved for him. You never saw how he would stare at you with his adorable big brown puppy dog eyes like if he didn’t, he would be striped of all life.

Being the same age and having common interests made the two of you inseparable from the start, oh and ofc Spencer’s massive crush on you. You two had been best friends for almost 6 years now and in these last 6 years Spencer’s crush had only been grooving bigger and bigger.

“Earth calling Doctor Reid! You there pretty boy? Or are you too busy making lovey eyes to you’re crush over there?” Morgans voice snaped Spencer out of the spell like trance you had put him in.

“What?” not really hearing what he said, Spencer only then looked back at Morgan, locking eyes with him. Spencer’s eyes getting used to looking at something closer again needed some time to adjust. “Sorry? what did you say again? I didn’t quite hear you.”

Snickers could be heard from not only Morgan but also JJ, Emly and Rosi, “Man she got you hooked pretty boy huh? You sure that shot to the leg didn’t effect your braid as well?” spencer still confused didn’t  get time to answer before the sound of  JJ’s voice broke the laughter.

“Guys Hotch just texted we got a case”

And only a few minutes later there they were sitting around the round table explaining the case. You sitting next to Spencer, like always. No one really had seats around the table that was theirs, but you and Spencer did no one had ever mentioned it or even talked about it, but everyone on the team knew it. it was an unspoken rule. No one sits next to Spencer unless it’s you.

Spencer scooted closer to you while the quick briefing was happening, not really completely listening but enough to drop his point of view on the different point’s of the statements on the murders here and there, before randomly info dumping something only just related to the case at hand, no Spencer was far to busy loving the heat you’re  body gave off you’re arm touching his. He loved how warm you were. But once again he was broken from his thought’s by a voice.

“Ok guys wheels up in 20”

Spencer turned his head to you. You’re pretty face already looking at his face. “So see you on the jet. Save me a seat ok” it wasn’t really a question because you know he would he always did.

And like always there you were sitting next to him, you where almost sitting on his lap with how close together you were sitting, but neither of you minded, his hand around you’re waist and chit resting ever so gently on you’re shoulder.

You didn’t fly for long before landing and getting of the jet. The drive to the small town station wasn’t that bad either, it was a small town on a big land a lot of desert with not so much town. When you and the team walked in Spencer’s hand still hadn’t left you’re body it was still ever so gently resting on the small of you’re back.

Having been introduced to the sharif and the people you were going to work with. Next thing was splitting into teams on who were going where and doing what, and with Spencer’s injury it was not hard to see he was going to have to work from the station.

“So who’s staying with Reid at the station?”

Darek was quick to shot a look between you and Spencer before saying. “actually I think Pretty boy is going to be most comfortable staying here with Y/N here more then any of us others” Spencer stopped and looked over at you expectingly.

The other’s looked over to you. You feeling and uncomfortable feeling having all eyes staring at you waiting for an answer Hotch’s voice sounded “Y/N? you’re ok with staying here with Dr Reid?”

“Of curse I’ll stay here with Spence! Can’t have him getting lonely now can we.” You said with an adoring smile on you’re face. “Grate you two stay here and see what you can find on victimology and see what’s may connect the victim in any way’s. sharif could you find a desk for the two of them they can use as work station?”

“Sure yeah of curse, I’ll go find 2 desks for the two of you-“ he was quickly cut off by Spencer. “No one will be fine, we have no problem sharing a desk.” Quick looks was shared between the team. You’re voice rung out. “yeah one is fine I have no problem sharing a desk with Spence.”

“ very well then, I’ll go find and clear a desk you guys can use. In the meantime you can just wait here.” The sharif went off to find a desk you could use. Not even a minute later he came back, and showed you and Spencer to the desk. “well we should get started now huh?” you asked Spenser. He responded with a nod and a dorky smile.

Hours later you were sitting on the desk with you’re legs crossed with a Spencer leaning up against you’re thigh. The news had in someway slipped out to the press and the phones were going off like crazy. “ We know who his next victim is. I’ll go outside and deliver the news to the team.” And with that you hopped off the table and walked out the back door.

and around 5 minutes later a female cop walk up to the desk you only 5 minutes ago were siting on. “So I se you’ve been working hard huh you deserve a teat here I brought you some coffee from the coffee machine.” Handing the Warm cup To Spencer he thanked her knowing damn well he wasn’t even going to thing about drinking it.

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to her or what she was saying to be honest, that was until she leaned half sat herself on the desk not only that but a little too close to him touching his arm. Spencer almost panicked but calmed himself. “please don’t touch me nor sit on my desk I’m a bit of a germophobe.” He said as calmly as he could

“A germo-what? But you let that other girl full on sit on the desk and she was touching you? That doesn’t make any sense buddy.” She said almost offended. “ yeah but she’s different. She’s so much different then you.” With that said she stormed off. And didn’t approach the team again especially not Spencer or you.

 But at the end of the day you caught the killer. And was packing up to go back home. You and Spencer was the fist in the jet. “spence?...” Spencer was confused by the tone and turned around. When he did he did see a smile on you’re face like always you’re expression was impossible to read. It scared him. What if he had did something wrong? Had he done something to make you sad or mad? He didn’t know and he couldn’t read you. It scared him.

“spencer am I different to you then others?” the question made him panic. “Wh-what are you talking about of course not-“ he was quickly cut off by you’re voice. “Spence I heard what you said to the female cop.” Silence the only thing there could be heard was the steps you took to take you closer to him.

“ you- you heard that?! I can explain ok! It’s no because you’re different! I mean you are diff-“he was cut off by the soft touch of you’re lips on his. He was surprised but quick to kiss back, scrabbling with his hands to hold the sides of you’re face. “I like you Y/N. I like you a lot, I would even say I love you but I would want to scare you away like that.” “I like you a lot to but..” he was quick to think of the worst. “but?...” “ but I would love you if you took me on a date.” The smile returning to his face. “of course! Of course I will” hugging you with a smile.

The happy little session you had was cut off with a loud “fucking finally!” you and Spencer turned around to see the whole team standing there. You were embarrassed. Realizing they had probably seen it all or at least most of it. “my man! So you finally got the girl” ohh man this was going to be a long flight home for you and Spencer.

AGHHHH MY FIRST FIC!!  I really hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. and I wish you beautiful ppl a good morning/afternoon/night:33333

[11rosebunny]

Thank the heavens I found your blog! after getting into the wind breaker anime and currently reading manga. I am starved for wind breaker reader content until I found you. If possible can I request hayato suo relationship/boyfriend headcannons? Oh it would make my day and all the suo lovers days as well

Thank you.

—For some reason, Suo has been hot on my requests on Tumblr へ[ ᴼ ▃ ᴼ ]_/¯ !!

Hayato Suo as your boyfriend (DRABBLE)

In the past, Hayato was able to score very well with many girls that were his age and some even above his age that managed to fall for him. But, he has never dated anyone. However, he doesn’t see himself as inexperienced.

From the get-go, he’s learned how to act right which probably resulted in him getting many girls to like him. Even so, under his nice exterior, he’s an extremely hard person that falls in love. The only reason why you were able to date him out of all of the people he has rejected, was because you’ve known him the longest.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you for who you are—if anything, his infatuated with your personality and the way you look up at him with those damning eyes (although sometimes, he questions some of things you say and wonders if they should be studied or not). Before he knew it, he started to fall for you without even knowing.

It was easy when you first started dating him, he still treats you like how he always has but soon grew more intimate and touchier with you. Before in the past you two were strictly friends. Even though the both of you have been going to each other’s houses for the longest time, neither of you had made a move until the moment you started dating. He didn’t start touching you back then out of respect and not wanting to make things weird, so when the both of you held hands for the first time, you caught a glimpse of his ears going red which was something you’ve never seen before.

He continued speaking to you in the same chaotic manner you’ve always known, while from time to time sneaking in little compliments and caressing the flesh of your skin with the most subtle touches.

In the morning and nights, he used to text you when he’s going to bed and telling you goodnight before sleeping. That changed when you two switched to calling more often. Aside from the beginning of the relationship, you two got close fairly quick—after all, you’ve known each other since forever.

Quickly, he’s not shy when holding your hand and communicating with you about any problems that occur in your relationship. He ends up solving them in a few hours or a day, he doesn’t like dragging the situation on and will force you to speak out even if you struggle with communicating. If you’re the type of person that gives the cold shoulder, he will not let you do so and won’t stop bothering you until you give a proper answer.

Honestly it’s amazing he’s able to put up with your petty behaviour. Nirei had witnessed it first hand when the Suo had gotten a call from you and watched the two of you argue through the phone. He stepped away for a few minutes before returning back to the blonde-haired boy with the same smile that lets him know everything is okay.

Because of how unhinged he is, typically speaking—he’s the first one to make nearly all of the moves. He was the one that stole your first kiss. That day was surreal to you. The way he took you out skating for the first time and held hands on the rink, then going on to bringing you to dinner and finally ending the day off with a sweet, warm kiss that engulfed your mind when he kissed you in the dead of night underneath a streetlight lamp as the snow fell down within every second he kept his lips on yours.

Soon after, many of your dates were usually spending time outside together. He’s not much of an indoor person and likes to walk to different places with you all over town. The only time he will do an indoor date is if the weather is bad or one of you got sick.

Even with how nice Suo can portray himself as, somethings he does have is a little risky side of him that loves to tease you. It’s a secret though, he loves to make a fool out of the people he fights and watch them crumble, so it’s no wonder why he loves it when you’re all shy around him. Moments like this, when he’s needy and just generally carving his girlfriend, he likes to go into your personal space, place you on his lap if you’re watching a show with him, plaster open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulders all while acting oblivious as to why you’re red.

Whenever he sees something in public that reminds him of you, he buys it immediately and gives it to you the next time he sees you again. The first time he did this it was a keychain of your favourite food then it slowly turned into random stickers, pencils, clothing wear, and jewelry. He likes to spoil you without even knowing himself. You have to remind him that he paid last time when you went out to eat meaning it’s your turn to return the favour. But even so, he tells you to put your cash away and let him pay again.

Once dating you for long enough, he never grows tired of your diabolical personality and is glad you put with his chaotic behaviour.

[sailorblossoms]

Baz's raised eyebrow:

(yet another "Simon identifies as 'Baz-sexual' for very good reasons' post)

few things have annoyed me more with these books than when people do not take Simon's "I don't know anything about anything but maybe I'm just a Baz-sexual" comments seriously (dismissing it with a combination of not paying attention to what he's putting down and good old confirmation bias). He even says it in less "goofy" ways with lines such as "he's the only person I have ever wanted" (in the context of thinking about having sex) (note the emphasis on ever) (yes, it's one of the clues saying he didn't want to have it with Agatha, in case it's not clear)

"Like Baz has only ever wanted Simon, Simon has only ever wanted Baz," is necessary to bring up before I get to my point here. I have seen Simon being read as in love or attracted to Agatha ("he must have been or else how they had sex?"... I mean, Simon tells you why it happened without attraction, but even if he didn't, we could make an alphabetized list of reasons it can happen without it, the desire to fit in is no joke) or the idea of Simon liking all sorts of girls, including the girl he pointedly doesn't notice despite her being obvious to others, for the sake of drama and conflict. I have wondered if they don't believe the characters, or if they find the highlighted sentence here boring. "It's boring if the characters only want each other," "in real life people want multiple people" – indeed, but not everyone is wired the same (and why are we stuck on "real life" so much anyway in stories about half-dragon and vampire boys falling in love). But it's not like this sentence is without conflict. Note Baz's eyebrow...

In CO, when Simon says Trixie is cute, Baz's reaction is a boyish "I'm going to puke" comment, which is likely part of how he dealt with jealousy and thinking Simon was straight for years: masking his feelings with "harsh" or sort of "edgy" jokes (probably not the right words to use, but getting too hung up on precise wording is the reason I never finish these posts). In awtwb, Simon calls Pippa cute, and Baz raises an eyebrow...

By those reactions, we could say the idea of Simon calling someone cute because he finds them attractive crosses Baz's mind – or is something he feels in some way, even if the thought doesn't explicitly cross his mind. It's something the reader might assume as well... however, I don't think the way Simon uses cute – which can be used in many different situations – says anything about attraction for him. I mean, a gay man can see a girl being cute or gorgeous as well – Baz certainly does! (attraction is portrayed in these books as thoughts derailed, repetition, sentences being cut off, fixating in a detail no one else notices like they do – you see it with Baz and Simon, Agatha and Niamh, Shepard and Penny. Shep doesn't just call Penny cute – he loses his entire goddamn mind for a whole page about her cuteness and her knees. It's not just a passing comment).

I don't think those scenes when Simon says "cute" is highlighting something about him, other than the fact that he's able to note cuteness. I think it's saying more about Baz's insecurities (I know I once posted something long about it somewhere...) Baz brings attention to it in a way with his reactions... because he's bothered by it. It's something that's sort of hidden and sort of contained, but it's there.

Baz doesn't find himself desirable, partly because of his vampiric nature. But part of it is also about the complicated and messy fear that perhaps... Simon has a problem with being with a man (I know I have unpacked this in other posts, finding them though...). Perhaps "a girl would be better" (It's messier with boys than with girls, it's a thought that comes out before he catches himself with "I don't actually know anything about being with boys or girls".... "I don't know anything about being in a relationship," he says, while still being able to catch there was something wrong with Agatha and Simon's relationship when Simon talks about – because Simon will process things he would rather avoid when it's about opening up to Baz, he wants Baz to know things that would help Baz understand him better, even if he himself would rather not understand... still Baz can't let go of the programming of all those years believing in the golden couple – he has spent a longer time believing that than dating Simon, after all) (Agatha is alive and beautiful, the sort of beauty that's used to "embody" "desirability".... and Baz is "not alive"...) (as a side note, have you noticed the idea – or the actual action – of sex with Agatha is used both with Simon and Baz to indicate a lack of desire toward women?)...

While Simon thinks of Baz as the only person he has ever wanted – Baz is as desirable as it gets for him – Baz struggles with feeling desirable at all. Baz doubts and wonders and has to catch himself – even if he doesn't notice he's doing that. Even if he doesn't conciously think "a beautiful girl who is alive is more preferable than me, a gay male vampire." That is a far more interesting conflict than Baz having legit reasons to be jealous, I think. The fact that he has truly nothing to feel jealous about, and yet... he just can’t help it. It's hard to go against years of programming, of going against the idea that everything about yourself is undesirable and it's better to hide it – another way he matches with Simon. They also match in their insecurities, with small differences: Baz is so amazing and attractive while Simon doesn't feel like he's good enough for him, he can do better than him, etc... while Baz clearly only has eyes for Simon, Simon feels like Baz is merely stuck with him. And the conflict here is that you think "they need to TALK and voice their thoughts for the love of god, what do you mean Baz doesn't know Simon sees him as the love of all his lives??"... talking is not enough. That Simon and Baz only have eyes for each other is not without conflict. Sometimes we need to keep hearing some things, and even then... the fears and insecurities don't go away. Especially when we have spent a really long time believing ourselves to be unwanted, undesirable, something to be hidden. When we have been exposed to things that confirmed those beliefs for longer than we have been exposed to things that challenge them

[the-sprog]

Thinking about Hakuba just reaching his limit. He realizes that everyone involved in trying to catch KID has been a bad detective, because everyone (him included. ESPECIALLY him) seems to be obsessed with figuring out the "who?" that they've never stopped to question "why?"

When he confronts Inspector Nakamori he gets told that of course they've investigated his reasonings! That good for nothing thief is just greedy/an adrenaline junkie/does it for the thrill/to humiliate the police/etc.

But Hakuba knows this is not the same Kaito KID as when Inspector Nakamori was first assigned to the case.

He's missing something. And he doesn't know what.

It drives him up the wall. He tries figuring it out at the next few heists, but he comes up with nothing. There's no more clues/information to add to those he already had.

So he does the only logical thing.

Trap everyone involved in catching KID in a room that's ventilated as little as possible and release various pallets of truth serum in gas form. Y'know. Like a reasonable person.

Inspector Nakamori, Conan, Hakuba, and Ran (chaperoning) get caught alongside KID and get a lungful dose of truth serum.

Now, before anyone says anything, I know truth serum isn't an actual thing. The way that it's logicked to work is that it lowers inhibitions, loosens your lips basically, and makes you more susceptible to speaking before you can think about it. But of course, it doesn't actually mean people are forced to answer questions or to tell the truth.

But Hakuba is at the end of his wits.

Gonna write a snippet hold on (future Sprog speaking: this ended up being a full-on one shot. So here's the AO3 link if you want to read there)

"Taking a page out of my book, detective-san?" KID asks, the same cocksure smile ever present on his face. It annoys Hakuba. It always has. It's the same expression for every occasion, no matter what KID is saying or doing.

As long as he's not being someone else.

"It's not knockout gas," Hakuba says. He doesn't yet feel like the words are being ripped out of his mouth, but that's to be expected. He's been preparing for this confrontation. "It's truth serum."

From the corner of his vision he sees Edogawa-kun flinch. He would've given it more attention if he had any to spare.

Kaito KID tilts his head and hums. Hakuba can't see it due to the shadow from KID's hat, but he's sure KID is looking him straight in the eyes.

"Saguru-kun?" Inspector Nakamori is the first to break the silence. "If this is about-"

"Why?" It's as much of a response for the inspector as it is a question directed towards the thief himself. "I've never asked myself that question, when it comes to you. A gross oversight, a mistake unbecoming of someone calling himself a detective."

KID's smile doesn't falter, not that Hakuba expected it to. But the fact he hasn't up and left tells him he at least got the thief curious.

"I've been so caught up in trying to unmask you, that I didn't stop to think about why you do it."

"Saguru-kun-"

"I know what you said, Inspector. But your observations are at least 9 years too old. They don't hold up to the current Kaito KID."

Some silence. To his side, Hakuba can faintly hear Edogawa-kun hyperventilating while Mouri-san tries to calm him down to no success. Edogawa-kun wasn't listening to her, too intent on following the conversation.

And then Inspector Nakamori speaks. "You think this is a copycat? That all this time we've been following a fake?"

"I believe we've been following a legacy," Hakuba answers. "Either that, or something happened during his hiatus that made him change his Modus Operandi."

"My, my, detective-san. I'm flattered to know I spend so much time living in your head," KID gets up. "Well, it's been fun to hear your theories, but I think we should cut this visit short, don't you? I believe the curtain call has been way overdue," he says.

"If you leave you have no way of knowing how long the serum will stay in your system," Hakuba stops him. He can't lose Kaito KID's attention now. "And the rest of the gas that's been stagnating in this room will be released to the audience outside these doors."

That seems to do the trick. "Detective-san! I didn't expect you to be the first one to crack!"

"I want to know why you do it. No one else seems to want to focus on that question."

"I did," comes a voice from his right. Edogawa-kun slaps his hands over his mouth as soon as he registers that the words have left his brain faster than he could control.

"Conan-kun?" Mouri-san asks. She's crouched to be eye level with the kid, but Edogawa-kun's eyes are squeezed shut.

"My littlest critic has once again bested everyone else in this room, hasn't he?" KID chuckles. "Bravo, oh great detective!" He claps his hands. "Bravo!"

Hakuba gets his eyes to focus back on the thief. "So Edogawa-kun noticed something we didn't."

"And neglected to share with the class, it seems." KID shakes his head mockingly. "For shame, great detective. For shame. I thought you were all for truth and justice."

Edogawa-kun opens his eyes enough to glare at Kaito KID, which only succeedes in making the thief's smile sharper.

The mocking tone in KID's voice makes Mouri-san snap her attention on him, glare equally as present on her face. "He's just a child, you perverted thief." Her eyes widen in shock as she realizes what she said.

Kaito KID raises his hands in front of him. "I had to make sure you knew the truth!"

"There were a million other ways you could've done that!"

"Oh, but none would've bothered detective-kun as much as messing with you, now would they?" His smile doesn't falter even as Mouri-san's (and Edogawa-kun's) glare gets more intense.

"He's misdirecting us!" Edogawa-kun points out.

"But you know why he does it."

"The information you need is all there. What kind of two cents detective are you that you can't figure it out on your own?"

"Conan-kun!"

"Ah! Sorry, sorry, Hakuba-niisan! I didn't mean it- that's a lie. I did mean it." He groans when he finishes. "Stupid truth gas!"

"That's very rude, Conan-kun."

"If the child figured it out so easily, then he has a point in calling us out," Inspector Nakamori says.

"He's the highlight of my heists, that's for sure." KID looks caught off guard by his own admission.

He's lowering his guard. Or he's getting nervous.

"Answer the question, KID," Hakuba tries once more.

"You could ask the great detective. He seems to have a deduction ready."

"I want to hear it from you."

"I have a general idea of what could be going on based on observations of the heists I've attended." If anyone is surprised by Edogawa-kun's eloquence, no one says. "I lack a lot of background information, mainly on everything regarding before Kaito KID's hiatus -which my dad refuses to collaborate with me on because he says I have to figure it out myself. Fair, but rude. It's not like I have access to police records of the time." Everyone is staring at him, but Edogawa-kun seems to not have noticed. Or the drug is taking more effect than expected and he truly can't control himself. "And what I have isn't enough to account for all incognitas, and it would be unbecoming of a detective to offer up an incomplete explanation." He finally takes some time to breathe.

Which probably didn't help, considering their air was probably still extremely contaminated.

"And that's why Conan-kun is my favorite critic."

Inspector Nakamori shakes himself out of his stupor and addresses the room. "What's it matter?! He's a thief! A criminal! He should be behind bars, and that's all we need to know!"

Edogawa-kun frowns and answers the rhetorical question before Hakuba himself can. "Establishing a motive is an important step in investigating any criminal offence. It can help discern how and who. In homicide cases, it can make the difference between a premeditated murder and manslaughter."

Mouri-san's eyes haven't left Edogawa-kun's face since the little detective entered the conversation. Hakuba can't discern what she's thinking, but he can tell she's wearing the same face Edogawa-kun has when he's gathering and putting together the clues to a particularly complex trick.

"This is different, kid," inspector Nakamori says condescendingly (his tone isn't lost on Edogawa-kun, judging by how his face contorts). "This is just thievery."

"To neglect any piece during the investigation of a case, would mean to be willing to come to an incorrect or incomplete conclusion," Edogawa-kun answers. "It would mean not caring about the truth behind it."

At this point, Hakuba is just a witnessing, partially slack jawed, how Edogawa-kun goes toe to toe with the Inspector. Kaito KID looks to be enjoying the display, revelling in the chaos caused by it.

"Share it with us, then," he tells Edogawa-kun. "Let's combine our information."

Edogawa-kun takes a sharp breath and shakes his head, jaw and fists clenched tightly.

They were all so focused on Edogawa-kun that none of them notice Kaito KID making his way towards them.

"That's enough terrorizing my littlest critic." KID picks up Edogawa-kun and returns to his spot. Edogawa-kun glares at him alongside Mouri-san, but his looks to be more of an annoyed expression than anger.

"This is humiliating," he says. "I'll have my revenge."

"You still owe me a favor, detective-kun."

"I let you go that one time with the Junior Detectives."

"Pppff, you let me go all the time." KID waves the hand that's not holding Edogawa-kun to his side dismissively. "That doesn't count."

"YOU LET HIM GO?" Inspector Nakamori yells, reminding the two others of their audience. Edogawa-kun startles.

"He saved the Junior Detectives' lives," Edogawa-kun says.

"I don't need him to let me go. I'm perfectly capable of doing my own escapes, thank you very much. He's a child. It's not like he can do much to stop me."

"You don't seem to think so when I have you cornered with a soccer ball."

"Those things are weapons of mass destruction and you shouldn't be allowed to use them!" KID hisses.

Hakuba decides to end their little debate. "We've gotten off topic. My question has yet to be answered."

"It wouldn't be very fun if I just gave you the answer, wouldn't it?" KID says, with his smile still in place. "After all, Conan-kun has spent all this time working to figure it out. It wouldn't be very polite to let his efforts go to waste."

"So you admit it," Hakuba says. "Your motives are different from the previous Kaito KID."

"Or maybe," KID says. "Maybe you've been wrong all along."

Inspector Nakamori takes a step forward. "Saguru-kun was right, then? You're a different Kaito KID than the one from 8 years ago?"

It's the first time Hakuba has ever seen KID's smile falter, and for as fast as he fixed it back on his face, he doesn't think he would've noticed if he hadn't been paying close attention to it in the first place.

Inspector Nakamori curses under his breathe, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers.

"I don't want KID dead." Edogawa-kun's voice is marely a whisper. The phrase surprises everyone, Edogawa-kun included, who pales when all the attention turns to him.

"All efforts to apprehand Phantom thief 1412 have been non-lethal." Inspector Nakamori attempts to reassure Edogawa-kun. Hakuba frowns in thought. "You knows this, kid."

Hakuba checks his watch. He doesn't have much time to get the truth out of KID with this,and he doubts this method would work again.

"The police is using non-lethal action." Mouri-san's voice is barely audible. She's looking at KID and Edogawa-kun with an unreadable expression on her face. "But... Sonoko said there have been rumors of people hearing gunshots during some of Kaito KID's heists," she says, careful. Her eyes don't leave his face.

Hakuba turns sharply towards he thief. On his face, the same cocksure smile. The same can't be said for Edogawa-kun, who looks seconda away from passing out, his fingers clenching KID's vest tightly. "Someone else wants to get to you," he says. "But... why. I'm still missing something."

"There's plenty of people unhappy with me for stealing their precious gems, you know?" KID boasts, making a rose appear in his hand, making a show of examining it. "It's not so surreal to think people would want to take revenge." The rose turns into the Alexandrite that was that day's target. He holds it up to the sliver of moonlight coming from one of the room's windows.

Inspector Nakamori's eye twitches at the sight, but he holds himself and says, "There isn't any mention of gunshots in any of the official reports of any of Kaito KID's heists."

KID flicks the gemstone up in the air, letting it fall back into Edogawa-kun's hands.

When he sees Edogawa-kun with the gem in his hands, face unsurprised by the gesture, Hakuba feels like a lightbulb lit up. "You give everything back," he mutters. "You give everything back," he says, louder this time. "That's what I've been missing. The privious Kaito KID kept all that he stole, but you give everything back."

"I think that's common knowledge at this point, detective-san."

Hakuba shakes his head. He checks his watch. "Why go all the trouble of stealing the gems if you have no intention of keeping them?"

"The thrill?" Mouri-san and Inspector Nakamori say at the same time.

"That's what they said of the first KID, too. His criminal profile looked at the flashy white suit, the magic tricks, and the general showmenship and called it narcisistic behaviour. Attention seeking," he says. "And that can still apply to you."

"Hey-" the protest goes ignored.

"But that doesn't explain why you decided to give the gems back. Afterall, it's considerably more effort to return them without being seen that it would be to jsut keep them." He takes a step towards the thief. "You're looking for something." Another step. "And the people shooting at you are doing the same. And you don't want them to have it."

"That's an interesting theory, detective-san." KID tries to keep his voice stable, but the prolonged exposure to the serum, combined with the nervousness caused by Hakuba getting closer to the truth, is going its job, and KID's voice wavers.

[very-straight-blog]

It really tires me how some fans try to make Aegon look like an asshole who doesn't give a shit about anything. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of his character as such. Of course he cares, that's literally the essence of his personality. He cares. He and Aemond both feel too much emotion, but if Aemond sublimates into self–improvement, trying to be strong, cold and detached, then Aegon is literally an open wound. I want to talk about this, also using Tom's interviews (yes, I think the actor's opinion is valid in this matter) and the few scenes that we have in the first season.

We know that Aegon didn't want the throne and wasn't ready to rule. The scene with Alicent, who explains to him the prospects for the future of their family, seems very traumatic to me. Imagine what it's like to know from your childhood that the lives of people close to you depend on you, on how strong you'll be. Such a burden can destroy anyone. You can't just ignore it.

Next, we're shown how Aegon drinks on Driftmark. And that's a pretty sad sight - several cups in a row, wincing, as if taking a medicine that will help him to feel better.

Actually, I like the theory that he gets drunk after Aemond says that Helaena is his future queen. Another reminder that he'll have to marry his own sister, for whom he has no feelings. And he drinks because he tries to numb his pain.

The same goes for his obviously unhealthy attitude towards sex - he uses it to numb his loneliness. I believe that Aegon literally didn't have the opportunity to feel what love is in any form. His father disliked him and showed it openly. His mother loved him, but she never knew how to express it the way he needed to. He was married to his sister (the tragedy for both of them) and it was a matter of duty, not feelings. At the time of the first season, Aegon is deeply unhappy and this is obvious. I have every reason to believe that his need for physical intimacy is based on the fact that this is the only form of love he can receive. Considering that Aegon is quite smart, I even think that he himself understands how ugly this form is, but there's nothing he can do. During the act, I guess in some unhealthy way it really saves him from loneliness, longing and the need to be loved, but in the end it makes him even more unhappy.

Then it's impossible not to remember the eighth episode and the famous:

It's still clear that family is important to him. Yes, he feels like a stranger among his relatives, but it hurts him just because he cares. He cries and says "it will never be enough for you or father" because he wants it to be enough. He still loves them and wants them to love him back.

"What Aegon wants more than anything is to be told by his dad ‘I have faith in your capabilities as a young man. I see you bringing prosperity to King’s Landing.’ But he hasn’t said any of those things. His dad has completely ignored him, in fact, throughout his entire youth." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Esquire

Next, we can move on to episode nine and the fact that Aegon ran away. I've seen a lot of opinions that this is an indicator of selfishness and like...what? He was scared. This follows from the script:

He was scared, he'd never leave his family, much less Sunfyre. It was a decision made in a panic when he realized that his father had died and the moment he had feared all his life had come - he needed to accept the crown to protect his family.

During the conversation in the carriage, we see that Aegon was really hurt that his father didn't love him:

He even said "because he didn't like me" when talking about his father's attitude towards him. He didn't use the word "love" because it was obvious to him that his father didn't love him. He used the word "like", unknowingly emphasizing that he couldn't count on even simple sympathy.

He's also well aware that Viserys could have named him the heir, but didn't do so simply because he didn't want to and because of this, he - the eldest son, feels unworthy of the throne, and also completely lost.

When Alicent tells him that Viserys wanted to make him the heir before his death, an emotional dam breaks inside him, it's literally written in the script:

And at this moment, looking at the dagger, he's not even listening to Alicent, he's completely in his thoughts - maybe, at least for a second, his father cared about him. And when he asks his mother if she loves him, we see how much he craves love, how broken he really is, how important his family is to him.

I know this post is insanely long and I haven't even analyzed the various microexpressions in Tom's acting, but I'm really tired of people wanting to make Aegon something pure evil.

"I also see Aegon as being incredibly complex. He's not an out-and-out psychopath. I see a multilayered character that just has endless potential of pits of vulnerability and empathy and things that we don't see. I think it's his vulnerability that breeds the darkness. It's the way he copes, it's his security, it's his safety blanket, it's an addictive coping mechanism for him to shut things out and to be cold." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Entertainment Weekly