#then again this is all coming from someone who eventually gets bored and wants to start over bc they enjoy like mid-game instead of early or

[sevsgiirl]

Omg okay I can't stop thinking about needy lovesick Sevika with a younger femme partner (you can totally do a continuation of the fic you wrote) so what if, she's a little needy&insecure for their age gap? That her girl gets bored/annoyed with her? (She doesn't have this type of thoughts all the time, but the seeds of doubts grows when she hears other people talk, not directly about her and reader, but in general but it does linger when others points out how different they are) or in her own way, she start craving more compliments, affections from her but dunno how to do it and at the same time she's trying to gauce if her girl still likes her (she does!!) yet just the thoughts/doubts hurts Sevika like so bad, because she would do anything for her darling, what she has to do to make her girl still love her and not leave her?

— sevika with a younger partner and feeling insecure

synopsis: sevika doesn’t have a type. whether they’re older or younger, just as long as they could keep up with her that’s all mattered. but ever since you two started dating, she starts to wonder if she’s the one who could keep up with you and how deep down, it scares her that you might find a problem with it eventually.

note: I just had to post this before going to sleep because the idea is too good. I love the way your brain works and again, thank you for sending in the req <3 love you and I hope you like this.

you were a beacon of light in the cesspool of chaos that is sevika’s life.

to this day, she still doesn’t understand how you and her got into a relationship but here you are now, going strong for almost a year and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

you two rarely get into arguments, when you did she never hesitates to reach out and fix the situation right away because she can’t stand being on bad terms with you for long.

you two are on the same mental wavelength, which sevika appreciates given how you’re a lot younger than her. she’s in her 40s and you were in 20s, but sometimes she forgets because conversations always run smoothly between you two.

but just because she forgets that doesn’t mean other people fail to bring it up.

when you started dating, it was a bit difficult given how it wasn’t received well by a lot of her peers. not that they judged her for it because they could never unless they wanted to have their face busted in. but it was the occasional remarks that had a hint of judgement in them that made sevika uncomfortable.

things such as “she’s a bit young, isn’t she? you better keep an eye on her especially because you’re always at work. it’s hard being in a relationship with someone who’s at a different stage in life as you.”

both of you had jobs but her work compared to yours was hectic. you work as a waitress at jericho’s meanwhile sevika is paid to get her hands dirty for silco. the job was tedious and draining and sometimes she comes home, tired to the bone that she could barely catch up with you. which she feels immensely guilty for.

you’ve reassured her that it isn’t a big deal and that you understand her status in zaun is far more important than yours. you’ve always acknowledged sevika’s role in the under city and why she was feared by many, that’s what attracted you to her in the first place. she was loyal, devoted and her endurance was insane.

but still, despite how sevika’s job is her number one priority, it still doesn’t slip her mind that she may accidentally neglect you and your needs without her knowing.

and she knows it takes a toll on you too, you just don’t want to bring it up because you respect her too much. and she was right because when she came home early one night you weren’t there, and it was almost midnight when you finally returned and you were shocked to see sevika sitting on your couch waiting for you. usually she’d be back around 2-3am.

“hey, you didn’t tell me silco would let you off the hook early,” you said but your words became background noise because she was too focused on your appearance. you were dressed up and from where she sat she could tell you’ve had a lot to drink.

it’s not that it upset sevika you went out, you could do whatever you want but it saddens her that you didn’t even go out of your way to tell her about it assuming she’d be coming home late. is this what you do when she’s not here? go out with your friends and have fun? it’s not that she expects you to wait for her in your apartment all day while she’s away for work.

still, the thought bothers her as she wonders what you must’ve been up to while she was gone. she tries to set the thought aside, not wanting to think bad of you because she knows you’d never go against her back. but certain thoughts crept up at the back of her mind. did you meet someone while you were out? were you offered drinks? did someone invite you out to dance?

“sev, baby, you there?” she didn’t even realize she zoned out until she felt you cupping her cheek “are you tired? you shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”

she shook her head “it’s alright. but yeah, silco let me off early and I wanted to surprise you.”

your shoulders sagged “I’m sorry. I assumed you’d come home late again so I decided to just go out with friends. had I known I would’ve waited so we can stay in and cuddle.”

despite your flattery words, the only thing that stuck to sevika was you implying she’d be late again. you didn’t mean it maliciously, there was no bitterness in your tone but instead there was just… acceptance. which frustrated her because people were right.

perhaps being at different stages in life does this. you needed a partner who you can home to and have fun with but instead you got her who’s always late, is already asleep when you probably want to stay up and have sex at night. she would force herself to push through just for you but she isn’t getting any younger and it shows.

maybe it’s because others have planted it in her head that you two are just far too different that’s why she’s overthinking like this, but it’s becoming more and more evident that they were right and if she doesn’t find a way to fix this, god knows before you start seeing the cracks and the dents as well.

and so in the following day she asked silco if she could cut off her usual hours at work to get back home early. at least for a few weeks and silco was shocked for a second because if there was anyone who’s extremely dedicated to their job, it’s her.

but it’s because of that he deliberates on the request “very well,” he answered “but if the matters are urgent I expect you to come in either way,”

well, it’s better than nothing, sevika thought. what matters is she’ll try to find some time to spend the following weeks with you and to hopefully regain the spark in your relationship.

not that she’s saying it’s lost but she’s scared it will. because if her days don’t consist of work, she’s either at the bar playing cards to blow off some steam, which isn’t exactly a productive way of spending one’s time.

unlike you, you have tons of friends who you go out with at clubs and sevika just doesn’t want to think about all the people you meet there, who are probably the same age as you, and have wanted to ask you out but you turned them down because of her.

meanwhile, she’s here and she can’t even keep you happy like how you deserve.

it eats her up alive that’s why as soon as she comes back from work a lot earlier than usual, she immediately engulfs you in a back hug when she sees you cooking in the kitchen.

you gasped, not expecting her “sev, you’re home.” you were surprised as you turned around “did something happen?”

she shook her head, smiling “no sweetheart, silco just let me off early again. plus I’ve been meaning to spend more time with my girl…”

you still weren’t used to the disruption of the routine, because she’s normally away at these hours, but you weren’t complaining.

and with that, you spent most of the evening cooking and catching up with each other. you didn’t miss the way sevika followed you around the house like a lost puppy when you started cleaning up to get ready for bed.

you raised an eyebrow when she wrapped her arms around your waist while you were washing the dishes, noticing how she’s awfully more needy than usual.

“baby, go rest. you just got back home from work.” you giggled and she just shook her head.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I feel like I haven’t been the best partner.”

that halted you in your tracks and you angled your head so you can face her “baby, what makes you think that?” your eyebrows were furrowed and she just held you tighter.

she lets out a breath, tired and awfully nervous about vocalizing her doubts. what if once she points it out you start seeing the red flags too? and then these affectionate gestures just won’t be enough? what then?

“I know with my job and the responsibilities I have, I haven’t been able to fulfill your needs. you have so much ahead of you and I’m always at work and I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m wasting your time.” she said and you just stood there, letting her words sink in.

“you’re young and you could be with someone whose head isn’t always stuck in a bunch of paperwork or is running around the lanes doing silco’s dirty work.” her jaw clenched and she starts to wonder if admitting to all of this was a good idea.

“I’m sorry, princess. I just don’t want to bore you by leaving you here at home all by yourself…”

you immediately swiveled around in her arms and took her face in your hands.

“sev, look at me.” you said, your voice stern “I could give less than two fucks about people my age. you think when I got into a relationship with you I didn’t know what I was signing myself up for? of course I did and I don’t regret any of it. I know you have responsibilities and I accepted all of your duties the moment you became mine.”

“I could never be bored of you, baby.” you told her, thumb caressing her cheek “you don’t treat me any differently because of my age so why should I? I love it that you’re so hard at work and that you provide for me. the fact my salary at jericho’s isn’t even enough to pay half of our rent but you don’t mind because you provide for us both, why would I find that boring? that’s fucking sexy.”

she couldn’t help but let out a snort “oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re staying with me because I’m basically your sugar mommy?”

you grinned “amongst other things,” you said before capturing her lips with your own.

the kiss was hot, heavy and slow as sevika gripped your hips and pulled you against her. pushing her knee up and sliding it across your thighs and she started rubbing against your clothed cunt, making you whimper.

“so you’re not bored of me? or mad?” she asked as she pulled away to look at you.

you rolled your eyes “you could be 23 or 75 for all I care and I still wouldn’t get bored of you.”

your finger drew circles around her chest as you fluttered your eyes up at her “plus you fuck me like you’re 23 anyway, so I don’t see why I would look for someone my age.”

she couldn’t help but laugh, swooping you up in her arms and you circled your legs around her waist as she walked you to your bedroom “god, you’re such a handful.” she said.

you smirked “but you love it.”

[madamechrissy]

Losing Control Now

Pairings: Mobster Gojo x bartender F!reader

Summary: Something about running the Gojo mafia just makes Satoru so bored. Boring, boring boring. Sure, he loves money, he loves women, he loves snorting snowy powder off their bodies. He loves the power that comes from it- but he's just bored. That is, until he stumbles upon you, the brand new bartender that makes him pause, falter, and then soon he becomes obsessed, with knowing you, in every single way. Paying off your mom's debts and working two jobs, you're exhausted, but something about this pretty Mob boy just makes you... excited again. How far in are you, and how far is Satoru in the mafia world? All he knows, is he must have you.

CW: Sexual tension, eventually explicit sex, mafia themes, drug themes, violence, obsessed Satoru Gojo, oral sex, possessive Gojo, drug use and drug dealing - lowkey Yandere fkn Gojo hehe. Light angst, some fluff, heavy smut, lots of teasing. This part- Lots of plot. drinking, making out, oral sex (M recieving) swallowing, fingering, some choking, light angst, sexual tension, whipped Toru- WC this part- 8.2k wc

That Gojo art is by michi_ia on X, divider be @cafekitsune, based on Satoru from Pour it Up (Sukuna's story) -set right at part 6 of that fic- You can read it alone, but I think it enhances this- Reblogs//comments appreciated if you enjoyy!

<<<part two - masterlist - playlist- Part four>>>

Part three

“They’re ready for you.” You hear your friend’s soft voice even over the blaring music, as you’re mixing up a drink. Sukuna’s girl now, they were just about inseparable, she is smiling brightly at you. “Satoru really has it bad.”

“No, you think so?” You flush a bit as she nods, helping open a couple of beers for the rest of the patrons sitting, entering numbers on the screen for you.

“Oh I know so, he’s pouting that you’re not there already.” Through all your exhaustion you can’t help but feel excited. “Also… talking about Mei.”

“You know now?” You ask her, frowning, while she takes your hand gently, pulling you away from the bustling bar as someone else takes over.

“I do, and I am so sorry, I didn’t know it was that bad, baby.” She has tears glistening in her eyes, even under the strobing red lights of the club, and you shake your head, brushing a hand on her bare arm.

“I wasn’t ready to tell you. But Satoru… I don’t even know him but…”

“You feel safe with him.” She finishes, and you smile, nodding then.

“That. Can you find if they have any drink orders? I’ll whip a couple up before I walk in. I know Satoru’s mix already.”

“Yeah, you know his flavor hmm?” You giggle and shake your head. “No way, not yet?”

“He wanted to… be very giving.” She’s grinning big, nudging at you now.

“Sukuna is too, my gosh though I owe him. My kid kind of…” She leans closer, conspiratorily holding a hand up. “I got off but… well…”

“Oh no!” You laugh just a bit, and she sighs.

“Mhm. He’s mad. I’ll get drink orders and help bring them!” She bounces off, before running back and helping you mix a few up. “Sukuna just likes to sip on whiskey, Toji it’s beer. Suguru is a little fancy, he likes a nice cosmo - Satoru loves anything that will give him diabetes as you well know. Now Mr. Choso…”

“Who is he?”

“He’s new. He said anything, so I’ll let you whip up something special.” She takes the shot for Sukuna and the beer for Toji and winks. “See you in there, baby.”

“Got it!” She’s giggling as she runs off, someone so upset before you remember, now she’s glowing being with Mr. Sukuna. Seeing the two of them just fuels how badly you want to have that with Satoru, but it seems insane. It seems too fast, but the man had just drank you an hour ago, how can you not go insane?

You mix up a classic rum and coke for Choso, grabbing his drink, Satoru’s and Suguru’s, heading into the huge VIP room, Satoru’s eyes light up bright when you walk in the intense atmosphere. You hand him his drink, smiling, then handing Suguru his, which he winks up at you.

“Thank you, love.” He murmurs, sipping and sighing. “So good.”

“You must be Mr. Choso?” You ask the other man in the room, who smiles sweetly at you, nodding, he’s without a girl in his lap like the other men, a little out of place you notice. “I made a rum and coke, is that okay?”

“It’s perfect, thank you pretty.” You flush at the sweet words from the man, but Satoru is standing and yanking you, making you gasp as he throws you on his lap, to the laughter of the room.

“My pretty bartender.” He grumbles, pulling you close, and you can’t help but giggle as your arms wrap around his neck.

“All yours hmm?” You whisper, he just nods, big hands taking over your waist as they begin talking, it’s constantly impossible for you to focus on shit when you’re in his arms, and he’s taking a blunt from Toji, inhaling it into his lungs, making even that action look sexy.

His lips around a blunt addle your already exhausted brain, reminding you of where they’d just been, making you heat up and shift. “Do you smoke, sweetheart?” He asks softly, coughing just a bit, and you shake your head.

“I haven’t before.”

“You little goody good. Girl scout.” You glare a little, just earning his pretty white grin across his handsome face. “Want a hit?”

“I’ll try.” You inhale the smoke barely, coughing out, and you hear Suguru and Satoru chuckle.

“You’re a horrible influence Satoru.” Suguru teases, you hand him the blunt as he smiles at you. “Don’t end up like him.”

“Excuse me!?” Satoru scowls at his friend, while he inhales the blunt, blowing it into the dancer’s mouth on his lap with ease. “Shit, why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’s hot.” Satoru glares now, and you giggle. “If you did it, I mean.”

“You better mean that. I’ll get jealous.” He pouts as you brush a thumb over his cheek, the scent of marijuana, cigars and Satoru’s cologne filling the air, swirling around you both, so heady.

“I mean it.” You press a kiss on his cheek as Satoru tenses, while Sukuna begins to speak. 

“We deal with Mei, she’s likely collecting debt for the Zenin.”

“I want to deal with her, personally.” Satoru says then, his jaw locked as he grips you so tightly squeezing your ribcage, you can feel his fury at her, making your brows knit with worry.

“Satoru, you can’t go running around provoking everyone without backup.” Suguru says, in between another hit, and Satoru scoffs now, as you feel the eyes of everyone on the two of you in the room.

“We have history.” Satoru mumbles, and Sukuna laughs then, shaking his head, as his girl scowls at his next words.

“Well who hasn’t fucked Mei?” Sukuna says amusedly.

Fucked Mei…

“You fucked Mei!?” You hiss, and Satoru flushes a bit, pulling at the knot on his black skinny tie.

“Maybe?”

“I did too, I think I was eighteen.” Suguru admits next to you, as Satoru stares at them all with an open mouth.

“I fucked her with Shiu Kong, threesome.” Toji says as he shrugs, sitting across from you all, a big hand on each stripper in his lap as they’re holding another blunt to his lips, and he’s exhaling, smirking with that scar on his lip stretching just a bit.

“Okay so everyone fucked this Mei lady, so can we make her stop being a bitch to my friend?” Your friend’s words touch your heart, and you feel Satoru relax just a bit, looking at her and nodding.

“We sure will, pookie, don’t worry.” Satoru says to her, before looking back at you and cupping your face. “But I wanna go alone.”

They try to argue about it, you even try to talk him out of going alone, but it’s no use, when Satoru wants something, he clearly will do it. He’s running his fingers up and down your back when it’s bare, sipping the fruity concoction as the plan to deal with who you’re hearing is the Zenin, which you know a bit about in stories, but it’s all so clearly real.

You had no clue your mom was in with such scary people, shit you didn’t even realize Mei was as scary as she was, and apparently… had slept with the entire room of men aside from Choso. The thoughts that she’s had Satoru make you burn with anger, not at him, but that she had him at all, possessive wild thoughts you shouldn’t be having yet, right?

But how can you not, when he’s fast becoming everything.

You were all alone before he brightened your sad, gloomy world.

“You alright baby girl?” Satoru murmurs to you softly, you blink just a bit, nodding. “Zoning out?”

“I’m just thinking about a lot.”

“About me?” He grins, and you bury your face against his neck, making him chuckle a bit, when the next words make you tense.

“We should take him the fuck out.” Toji’s gruff voice speaks of Naoya Zenin now.

“Let’s take Mei out too.” Satoru says, making you pull back with a gasp, eyeing his feral, insane grin and eyes that are too bright.

“Satoru!” You admonish, earning his cute little pout, like he’s some sweet baby and not speaking of murder. “No killing.”

“Do you know what a mafia is, baby?” You sigh, shaking your head.

“The solution can’t be taking people out.” Choso chimes in, Satoru sighs, leaning back and faking a yawn.

“Boring.” He mumbles, to the agreement of the room. “Let’s try to threaten them.” Satoru says then, and the room all reluctantly agree. “I’ll deal with Mei, Choso can deal with the Zenin before we get Sukuna involved.”

“What why!?”

“You’ll kill him, that’s why. Not that I disagree.” Toji says with a chuckle, and soon the room is dispersing, leaving you and Satoru again, just like that first time, and he’s eyeing you curiously.

“Do you mind if I kill her so much?”

“Oh god!” He’s grinning again, looking batshit insane, as you turn in his lap, straddling him now, watching his expression shift as he holds you in his lap, pressing you against his length. He’s feeling your heat, remembering the sweetness of your arousal all over his mouth, dying to fuck into you. “No killing.”

“For now.”

“Satoru!”

“I’ll try not to?” You sigh then, but that sigh turns into a gasp when he pulls you down further, and you’re grinding against his cock, whining out, his huge hands gripping your hair, lips hovering an inch from you. “I’ll try to negotiate first.”

“D-don’t pay for me, promise?” He frowns then, shaking his head.

“Don’t ask me that.”

“Please, I can’t take charity f-from- mnh…” He’s kissing you again, as you’re grinding on him, and he can’t think of anything but killing anyone who’s ever fucking touched you, your mom included, he doesn’t care.

He needs you to be his.

You’re soaking his slacks, earning his little smirk against your lips, hands slipping up the curve of your waist and hips. “Just trust me baby girl, can you?”

“I do.” You whisper, watching his snowy lashes lower, when his timer starts to go off from his pocket, and he winces.

“Can you get it for me? I hurt.” You laugh breathless, hand slipping into his pocket, making your cunt lift off him for just a moment, as his cock is pulsing, ready to fill your tight little cunt so good he can’t take it. You hand him the phone as he curses under his breath. “I have to go, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, of course!” You go to get up, but he’s pulling you back down, your arms wrap his neck, a hand brushing his snowy locks back then. “What is it, Satoru?”

“A date. Can we go on a date?” You feel your heart race at his words, god when is the last time you have had a date? And with Satoru!?

“Yes! I mean… yes.” He’s got a big grin on his pretty face, cupping your face with his long, slender fingers.

“I’ve never been on one?”

“What!? How!”

“That’s a story for the date, hmm?” You nod shyly, so fucking adorable Satoru can’t take it, the excitement making your tired eyes glitter. “Perfect, then I’ll have it all set for tomorrow, after I… take care of the situation.”

“Without killing.”

“Psh.” You nudge at him, and he rolls his baby blues. “Oh fine, yes. But, a date, you’re really down for it?”

“How couldn’t I be? I’d love to.” You feel a blush heat on your cheeks as he stands you up then, bending low and cupping your face with his huge hands, your own hands grip his wrists, looking up at him, seeing his pupils dilate, feeling the intensity of your emotions overwhelming.

“You deserve a good night’s sleep. And to relax, to have some fun, shit to just… live, okay? I want you rested up for the date.” He kisses your lips so sweetly, before it’s more passionate, and he barely resists picking you up and slamming you right against a wall, fucking into you until you pass out from how hard he’d have you cumming.

“I’ll need my energy, huh?” You tease against his lips, but he’s very serious as he pulls you against him in the room, still cloudy with smoke, but all you can breathe or feel is Satoru.

“You’ll need all your energy, baby.” He tilts your chin up, pressing another kiss, swiping off his phone when he pulls back. “You have yummy drinks to make, don’t you pretty?”

“I do!” He walks you towards the bar, the club is filled to the brim with men everywhere, women dancing, smiling, serving drinks, but Satoru’s eyes are only on you when you take back over the bar, and he leans forward.

“If you need me, you have my number, any time. Okay?” You nod and tuck your hair behind your ear, making his heart ache with affection. “You’re so cute.”

“You’re too sweet.” He leans forward, kissing you again, in front of curious eyes of the club goers and workers, murmuring about the notorious head of the Gojo family with a pretty bartender. You feel just a little frisky, yanking on his tie, deepening the kiss, and he moans into your lips. “Taste sweet.”

“Not as sweet as you.” He’s sighing when he pulls back, he doesn’t want all these stupid responsibilities, he wants to spend every moment with you.

Inside you.

Fuck his dick hurts, and he did it to himself.

“Will you text me when you get home safe?” You ask softly, so caring and sweet you melt him, he brushes his cool thumbs under your eyes carefully, watching you sigh in relief.

“I will. Good night, pretty bartender.”

“Good night Mr. Gojo.” He’s walking outside then, finding Suguru waiting on him once more, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the building.

“Gonna admit you’re obsessed now?” Suguru asks, and Satoru snorts, shrugging a broad shoulder.

“I am, okay, so what? But… Mei…”

“Yeah, I know you want to go alone, but let me at least wait in the car tomorrow when you see her?” Satoru nods, as his friend flicks the cigarette and puts a hand on Satoru’s shoulder.

“I would appreciate it. You really fucked her too?” Suguru has the grace to blush in the dark night, while the two of them lounge in the back of the limo now.

“Right at senior year.”

“Shit me too.”

“Have you two…” Suguru wiggles dark brows, and Satoru grimaces, pulling out a water bottle from the limo cooler and gulping the cool liquid, sighing.

“She tried to suck me and I turned it down.”

“You turned it down, a bj? You!?”

“Yeah.” Suguru’s chuckling, and Satoru glares. “What?”

“You’re down bad, shit.”

“Fuck if I don’t know that.” He swipes a hand across his face. “Blue balls like a mother fucker.”

“Satoru, having feelings, this is a new development.” Suguru gets a smack from Satoru, and smacks him back, as the two of them head to their destination, and for a moment it’s like it was back in school, before the two of them took on so many responsibilities.

Suguru was Satoru’s left hand, without him he couldn’t do all of this. “I do have feelings, I wanted her to just… feel good.”

“I taught you well.”

“Pshh, you’re younger than me? I knew how to eat pussy before you.” Suguru rolls violet eyes, leaning back and pulling out his phone then.

“You asked me for advice, I’ll never forget.”

“Oh whatever Suguru, you asked me for advice.”

“Pshh. She looked… pretty happy though.” Gojo grins big then, patting himself on the back big time.

“Yeah she did. I want her to… always look happy? I know, I know. I’m down bad.” Suguru just smiles, saying nothing, but seeing his friend lit up for the first time in seven years was something he enjoyed. “You’ll help me with Mei?”

“Of course, anything you need.”

“Good.” Satoru starts plotting in his mind then, hoping he can hold back just a bit of the terrible things he wants to do.

He’d do anything for a girl who he barely knows, but wants so badly to know every little part of.

*****

That night, you never get a text from Satoru, it’s late and you shouldn’t call him, right? You’ll seem clingy or weird or…

But you’re worried.

You’re laying in bed, exhausted as you pull out the phone, dialing his number, hearing his hushed whisper. “Hey baby girl, sorry we’ve had a situation.”

“Anything bad!?” You whisper in fear, heart hammering in your chest.

“We’ll be fine, it’s about Sukuna’s girl. But I’m okay, don’t worry about me, you get some sleep.”

“I wanted to know if you were fine or… I’m sorry I…” You’re turning on your side as Satoru leans closer to the phone, stepping away from his friends.

“No, no please. Thank you for checking on me? It’s really sweet and… you can’t bother me, okay?” You exhale in relief, in your past you’ve always felt like… a burden, an annoyance, and just his soft words of reassurance make you tear up.

He makes you ache for him.

“You know what I wish?” You say then, and Satoru’s own heart is pounding at your sexy little voice.

“What is that, pretty bartender?”

“That you were here, in bed. Shirtless.” His cock aches again, and he still hasn’t taken care of it, making him curse softly, hearing your breathless giggle.

“You’re torturing me, cruel, cruel woman. Shirtless hmm?” He’s walking further away, until he’s locked in the bathroom, hopefully out of earshot. “Why do you want me shirtless in your bed, what would you do?”

“I’d kiss and lick every part of your body. Slowly.” Satoru moans then, rubbing his cock over his slacks.

“Shit… You’re gonna kill me, y’know that?” His hoarse voice just brings out more from you, making you feel so daring.

“I’d kiss him too.”

Fuck.

“You brat.” You’re giggling once more, the sound making him smile alone, as he pictures you in that bed of yours. “Just kiss him?”

“Every inch, lots of kisses.” Satoru’s head falls back on the door, as you torture him with images of your pretty lips all over his length, your mouth open wide for his cum, before he fills every hole you have.

“You’ll be making this up to me tomorrow.” He whispers out, lost in the thoughts of you, and you’re snuggling under your blankets, he brings something out in you, this is not something you’ve said or acted like. But with him? It’s like he makes you want to have fun again.

“I sure will make it all up to you.” You’re picturing it, what does Satoru’s body look like, his cock felt huge and…

Fuck.

You’re torturing yourself too.

“I’ll hold you to that you know, all that talk, are you going to be a good girl?”

Good girl, shit, he’s fucking with you right back.

“Y-yes. I will. I can’t wait.”

“Then get some sleep, missy. You’ll need energy. Remember?” 

“Got it. Good night, Satoru.”

“Good night sweetheart.” He hangs up the phone, longing to be with you, but he has to push you deep in his mind for now, focusing, while you fall asleep, not realizing the impending danger surrounding you both, nor how willing Satoru is to fix this for you.

*****

“Gojo, what an unexpected surprise.” Mei’s voice practically purrs the words, sauntering over to him in her fancy office, decorated with the finest gold and blues all over, every inch of it oozing wealth, too much wealth, even Satoru does not go on such a display, and he knows he’s richer than anyone in this city.

“Mei, how are ya?” Satoru puts on an easy grin, he knows how she moves, how to play her, even though disgust fills his stomach at knowing what she’s done to you, he  shuts the door behind him with a resounding click, perching his signature Gucci shades down his straight nose just a bit.

“Been a long time…” She perches on her desk, crossing her legs and tossing back her light blue braids, slightly falling in front of an attractive face. Surely eighteen year old Satoru was all for Mei’s attention, but now it feels wrong to even act as he’s going to, when all he wants is you.

But he knows how to play this bitch.

“Aren’t you looking good, shit.” He whistles a bit, earning her flattered laughter, throaty and full, while Satoru waltzes in, hands in his pockets, until he’s right between Mei’s spread thighs in her business slacks. She raises a thin brow, slipping a hand up and down his tie then.

“You look pretty good yourself.” Mei brushes her hands against his cheek, and he tries to keep a calm demeanor, his own hand sliding up her back, watching as her barriers lower for him. “Miss me so much?”

“I’m here on business, I fear.” His hand entangles in her hair, as his lips hover an inch from hers, his other on her waist, watching as her expression changes, her hips shift just so.

“Just business?” She teases, pulling him closer.

“I need to know about a girl you’re getting money from, Mei…” He’s slipping a hand further up her waist, looming over her on the desk, as she gets visibly turned on from him, nipples pressing against her thin blouse, as he palms her under that dark blue blazer.

“A girl, hmm? Should I be jealous, Gojo?”

“I need you to stop the interest, cut her a break, as a favor for me, hmm? Could you do that sweets?” Satoru asks, voice humming softly, she blinks long light blue lashes, her hands slipping to his belt buckle then.

“A personal favor, what’s her name?” Satoru speaks it then, your name off his lips, making her pause a bit. “What’s she to you, is she so special?”

“I’m asking you to back off. I’ll pay off the interest, just don’t charge anymore, can you do that, hmm? For me?” He pouts at Mei, but her expression shifts then, to one of irritation, her body tensing now.

“You wanna pay her interest? No, sweetie, that won’t do. Her mother owes the Zenin a massive debt and that interest goes to me.”

“Then you’ll get it in your pockets quickly, don’t you love lining them?” His words turn to a low hum, grinning as he brushes fingers down her neck, and she sighs then, eyes icy as they stare daggers at him.

“Who is she to you?”

“A girl I’m taking on a date that’s so tired she can’t keep her fucking eyes open, and so much red bull she’ll have a goddamn stroke.” Mei laughs then, and Satoru loses it, squeezing her throat and cutting the laughter short. “I didn’t joke here, did I? Let me rephrase this shit, I’ll cut off any money from the Gojo family, if you don’t at least back off the interest. Got it?”

She’s pulling at Satoru’s wrist, but he’s squeezing harder, leaning over her now, and seeing a file with your last name right on her desk. But not your first. He pulls the file as he keeps squeezing, blue eyes narrowing as she’s sputtering for breath, not that he could care less. He smirks while she struggles, but then releases her, letting her cough shakily.

“Shit…” He whistles, as he reads through a gambling addiction that makes Toji Fushiguro’s look casual. Mei pulls a knife on him, which he casually knocks out of his hand with a little flick of his wrist, grabbing her wrist then as he bends it behind her, earning her grunt of frustration. “Ah, ah, you’re getting sloppy, what happened?”

“Oh fuck you.” He sighs, clicking his tongue as he holds her down with ease, like it’s nothing when he stumbles further on your file.

Twenty-Five.

Born right here.

How’d he never see you? Three years older than you, he wonders what your life was before, pursuing further to find you had just shy of a full psychology degree. What were you… doing here then, working some admin job and bartending? Did you give up college for this woman?

A woman with a rap sheet that makes him whistle, ignoring Mei’s struggles until she starts disturbing his reading, making him glare. “You’re lucky she is a sweet girl, or you’d be dead.”

“You’re threatening me?”

“Promising. Take the interest or I'll take care of this.”

“It’s not just me, you know it.” He lets go of her then, rolling his eyes as he snatches your files up for himself. “The Zenin-”

“The Zenin are on their last leg.” He smirks then, pulling out his phone, flashing a picture of their leader for her to gasp at. “Did you fuck him too? Aw…”

“What have you all done?” She demands, with horror affixed on her face, a face Gojo did find pretty before, but now it’s all you, and he can’t find an attractive feature on this woman’s greedy body.

“It’s none of your business, but considering the Kamo’s are now with us, you may consider a change of employer, hmm?” He grins now, as she takes off her blazer in a huff, throwing it on the back of her enormous desk chair.

“You’ll pay all her interest right now?”

“Give me a number.” She does just that, it’s nothing for Satoru but he knows you don’t want him to pay…

But he hopes you’ll forgive him for that too.

He needs to buy time.

“She’s not protected as some girlfriend, she’s not your wife or a member of the Gojo family, so they can keep coming after her.” Mei says then, while he transfers the obscene amount of money to her over the phone, and she plops down in her seat, lips curling up a bit.

“Money gets you so wet, doesn't it.” She glares, opening her mouth, he snorts then, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna know, actually. What do you mean by that?”

“If you actually want her left alone by others, not just me, then you’d have to marry the girl, or she’s not in your family.” Satoru falters at that, earning her nasty little smile. “I was the least of your problems, lover boy. But, she won’t hear from me or get more interest on my end.”

“They want her mom. I get that, but why her?”

“Collateral damage.” She says calmly. “It’s what you do too, don’t be mad because it happens to be some girl you want in your bed.”

“That is not all I want.” She blinks a little, standing up once more, coming up to him and trailing her fingers down his body, humming a bit.

“Maybe hate sex would be fun?”

“Not with me, sweets. Maybe one of my friends, I heard you were really catching these high school seniors like Digimon.” He shoves her off him with a grin now, slipping his sunglasses back up, while Mei looks at him furiously. “Kinda creepy, the barely legal thing Mei.”

Her face contorts into a scowl. “Oh just get the fuck out. Go have fun with your little girlfriend, she still will owe us the rest though.”

“For now. Pleasure doing business, Mei.” He winks and dodges a flying projectile, which shatters against the wall, exhaling as he leaves and shivering with disgust with having touched her.

What is this feeling?

He feels like you already are his, and you have a date tonight, it’s brand new, but he loves it, this feeling, the one where he wants to protect you, learn you, and make you feel so good you forget you ever had these problems. He would have paid the entirety of the debt, but he knows that’s too far for you right now.

He checks the time now, meeting Suguru in the car, handing him the file, which Suguru studies for a moment, whistling, his dark brows lowering. “Shit, this is her mom, huh?”

“Yeah. We have a lot more trouble than Mei.”

“How’d that go?” Suguru’s flipping through the file curiously, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as he reads about you.

“As good as it can be, paid the interest, gotta hope she’s not mad about it, she told me no money…”

“Like you listen to shit.”

Satoru shoves Suguru, but the laughter dies as Suguru pulls up a particular page, where he sees your brother, who Satoru hadn’t made it to yet. “Shit, look at his criminal record. And he owes debts, is she paying them too?”

“Not that I know of. I know she said he begs for money.” Satoru’s jaw locks, studying them further.

“You can’t just kill her mom and brother, Satoru.”

“It’s tempting, they’re trash. But no, a conversation is all I’m thinking, hit the brother, offer him some money, figure out more what’s going on, how they got on the Zenin’s radar.”

“Surprisingly smart.”

“Hey now!” He scowls at a smiling Suguru, as his phone starts blinging, and his face gives it right away.

“She text you?”

“Yes.” He can’t stop his dopey grin. “Almost time for our date.”

*****

“Don’t be mad, pookie, mmkay?” Is the first thing you hear when you step into Satoru Gojo’s limo, and his eyes swoop down your body, hugged in a form fitting dark red dress, showing far too much of your perfect breasts, making his mouth drop open, cock already straining. 

“Mad at what, Satoru?” You ask, but he’s staring at your body, exhaling then, pulling you against his hard frame, making your mind go haywire. “Satoru?”

“Shit, you’re gorgeous. Fuck, this dress…” He’s running fingers down it, swiping the soft velvet, having you trembling in moments.

“Mad at what?”

“Shit…” He’s kissing your neck, a hand gripping your breast, eliciting a cry as his other finds purchase at your waist. “Taste yummy, smell good, look fucking-”

“Thank you, very much but… mnh, mad at what?” He pulls back then, frowning just a bit. “Did it go bad?”

“I mean, as good as we can hope.” He’s taking a breath, pulling back just so, trying to remember what he even meant to say. “Well, I paid your interest-”

“You can’t do that!”

“Baby it’s nothing-”

“But I… you… why…” You’re sniffling then, so touched but also you feel horrible he’s had to do this. “I’m too complicated for you, Satoru, I-”

“Complicated is good. I don’t want boring, yeah? Don’t want perfect. I want this pretty little mess right here, who looks so beautiful I can’t stop thinking of ripping this dress off.” You’re melting, breasts heaving, only making his hands grip them again, you bite your lip not to moan out loud. “I want all of you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this. It’s not okay. It’s not fair.” You’re shaking your head, and Satoru cups your face now, leaning over you, it’s all him.

And you’re falling for him, so hard, so fast, it’s like falling off a cliff, a free dive with no fucking gear. Feeling more than you have in your entire life, for someone you’re not sure you deserve. Who is little you compared to Satoru Gojo?

“It’s not fair what happened to you, and I’m going to fix it, but for now, it gets that part gone, and that’s something, yeah? I didn’t pay it all, enough to get them all the fuck off you for now. Please, you never have to give it back. Ever.”

“Oh, Satoru…” You’re so exhausted then, it all hits you, all you’ve been dealing with alone, as you lean on him, on Satoru, and he’s pulling you into his arms so tightly, wishing to never let go. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You deserve so much more than what you have. Okay? I wanted to help, please don’t refuse it.” You’re kissing him, over and over, until your back is on the limo, and Satoru could take you then and there.

You’ve never wanted anything more, eagerly yanking on his shirt, deepening the kiss, while you feel his length hot and heavy against your inner thigh, even under his slacks. He gasps a bit for a breath, cupping your cheek, watching your eyes flutter shut in pleasure when he’s got his cock snug against your clit, hearing your every whine, cry and whimper.

“Thank you, Satoru.” He exhales in relief, shaking his head.

“Don’t thank me. I also… may have had to flirt?” You look away a bit, making him turn your face back. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I hated it. Disgusting.” You can’t stop the flush creeping from your cheeks, the fullness of your heart, how he looks at you, with those endless azure pools he calls eyes, so dilated now.

“What all did you have to do?”

“I flattered her, acted like I wanted her.”

“What now?”

“Aw, you’re jealous baby girl?” Satoru whispers, husky toned while his sweet cool breath brushes against your skin, and his hand slides up your collarbone, resting right at the base of your throat.

“That you touched her, yes.” Your admission is so soft and genuine, but you can’t help but express it.

“I choked her.” You glare and he grins. “Not sexually, she wishes, shit.”

“Sexually?” He sees it then, the curiosity in your pretty expression, in your lidded gaze and dilated pupils, while his free hand slips down your body, the other tightening its hold on your delicate neck.

“With you, it would be slow, deliberate…” He’s trailing off as he squeezes just a bit, pressure on your beating pulse. “Get you fuzzy and lightheaded, but never enough to hurt your pretty neck.”

“Mnh!” You’re crying out as you feel it, the pressure increasing, all while Satoru looks at you under those snowy lashes, licking his lower lip when he presses his fingers against you now, slick pooling so quickly it’d be embarrassing- if you could think right now.

“Feels good, hmm?” You nod just a bit in his hold, while his fingers gather all your sticky arousal, and he’s slipping them between your lips, up and down until he finds your hole, aching to be filled. The combination of his squeezing of your throat and his finger now curling inside your cunt are too much, your every sense heightened.

“Ah!” You’re crying out while he works your spot, increasing that pressure, vivid eyes watching your every movement, you’re clinging to him then, arching your hips while everything gets faded, fuzzy.

“You’re so pretty, fuck…” He’s murmuring more to himself than anything, watching the flush of your face as he squeezes, as he hears the clicking sounds of your soppy little pussy, just for him, releasing you for a moment. He sees his hand prints as you gasp for breath, pretty breasts heaving from your dress.

“That was…”

“Intense?”

“Yes but, I’d like more.” You’re burying your head against his chest as you whine out, while he crooks that finger up again, chuckling.

“Adorable, I swear. Want it a little more?” You nod eagerly, neck already sore, and he slips another finger inside you now, curling just so in gummy walls so slick, muscles so tight you’ve got him like a fucking vise. “Cum f’me, would you? Let me watch you.���

You shatter as he squeezes your throat tighter, fingers working you so good, you see fuzz all over, it’s black damn near, like a circle closing on a picture perfect face, with Satoru’s feral face hovering, fading. You scream out silently as he presses your throat so tight, you’re gasping for air while he chokes you through it, making you feel like you’re floating in the back of this limo.

“Gorgeous little neck, so tiny compared to my huge hands, huh?” Your eyes roll back as he thumbs your clit with his two fingers in, feeling all your aftershocks, finally releasing you bit by bit, until you eagerly suck breaths in. He’s pecking kisses all over your forehead, as your numb hands flex, trying to get life to them. “Oh, you really like that.”

You cough gently, rubbing your throat. “I’m apparently freaky.” You look up at him with a pout, and his grin just grows wider, easing his fingers out then with a wet pop.

“Open.” You do just that, sucking your sweet, tangy taste off his thick digit, watching as his nostrils flare from the sight. “Do you think I’m freaky?” You nod, as he kisses your lips softly. “You really haven’t seen shit yet, baby.”

“More freakiness hidden, hmm?” You’re so wet against the thigh that now presses between yours that you can scarcely function, blinking rapidly as your senses are skewed, engulfed in him. “Will you show me?”

“When you’re ready, yes. Are you not very…”

“No, not really.” You admit, you’ve done things but the way Satoru consumes you, touches you like he knows you, it’s hard to compare anything prior.

“You’re not a-”

“No, not that innocent. Do I give virgin vibes?”

“Kinda. It’s cute though.” You huff a bit then, pushing his chest, moving under him and making him groan out.

“I have done things, just they were… nothing like with you.” Your words make his heart hammer, as his cock is straining against his slacks, dying to be surrounded by your heat. “They weren’t anywhere close to what you did the other day.”

“I’m the best at eating pussy.”

“Clearly.” You both laugh, as he kisses down your body, over your dress, nipping and licking your breasts, then lower, feeling your thighs tremble on either side of his narrow hips, your hands entangled in his hair.

God he needs you.

“I want to please you, too.” You say as he’s slipping up the dress high, until it’s up on your hips, and he’s breathing against the pale blue lace of your panties, with a growing dark spot by the minute.

“So eager to suck me off?” You’re a little blushing mess again, when he licks your inner thigh, pressing a kiss on it. “Words, baby.”

“Yes, I want to.”

“And have you?” He’s kissing your other thigh, pulling your panties up so the lips are revealed on either side, making you squeak.

“No, but I’ve watched a lot of…” He pulls up a bit, grinning.

“Go on.”

“Oh man.” You’re covering your face now, hips jerking as he breathes against your pussy, making it pulse.

“Nuh- uh, spill.”

“A lot of porn clips, okay?”

“Naughty girl. Were you doing that before our call?” You refuse to remove your hands, until he bites your panty clad cunt, teeth sinking in until your hands drop, gripping his hair as he smirks up at you. “Gonna answer me?”

“Maybe.” He laughs softly again, tickling you to no end, you’re so sensitive and needy you almost cum from his damn breaths on you, releasing his hair just a bit, trying to calm your breathing.

“Got horny from porn then called me?”

“Got horny from you, then watched porn. Then called you.” He moans then, leaning back over your body, as the limo stops at a light, watching as the leds dance across your skin, your face, making his breath catch.

“You can suck me any time, I just wanted you to relax, not put in more work.”

“Is it gonna be so much work?” You tease, raising a brow, Satoru’s smirk speaks for itself. “It will be fun not work.”

“You’re underestimating him.”

“I am not, I am sure he is…” You’re giggling now as the car moves again, and he’s sitting you both up, brushing a thumb on your lips. “Huge.”

“Come find out then, so eager, huh? You’re slutty just for me?” His whisper excites you, and you can’t help but nod, when his hand entangles in your hair. “Get on your knees then, baby. We have a few minutes before we get there.”

You eagerly do just as he says, fuck you’d do anything he asks, the way he speaks, the way he looks at you, tilting your chin up, his blue eyes bright under his snowy lashes. You unzip him carefully, he watches as you do, as you slowly pull out a thick, veiny cock, so long it makes you nervous now, curved up with a blushing tip, leaking precum.

“You’re-”

“Huge?”

“Pretty.” He blinks then, women have told him how big he is, certainly, he’s a little conceited about it, but the way you look at it, touching his sticky tip with the milky precum and rolling little circles around the ridge, he bucks up in your hand from that.

“Pretty?” He murmurs, as you lap your pink little tongue along his slit, tiny hand trying to wrap his length, eliciting a soft cry from him that makes you ache more.

“Very pretty.”

“Shit…” He’s pulling your hair gently, watching you circle your tongue around his tip, just a bit unsure, torn between fucking into your throat and taking it easy on you, warring as his hands tense, your mouth sucking his tip in. “Oh my god… can you take more, baby?”

You just exhale, slipping more of his thick cock into your open mouth, eyes looking up at him, so sexy his cock twitches against your tongue. He’s leaned back for a moment, eyes fluttering shut, whispering filthy words as he guides you down further, your drool pouring down every vein, wrapped around his pretty cock.

Pretty, yes it was pretty.

“That’s it, sweetheart… f-fuck… t-take it, please, s-so good.” He’s whimpering now, a sound that surprises you from a six foot four mobster, one so conceited and sure, but he’s letting go while you suck him deeper and deeper. Your cheeks hollow when you suck hard, pulling up, and his hips thrust. “Fuck you don’t need lessons, you suck it so good, perfect f’me- ah!”

Satoru’s lost now, in your motions, of a cock he’s been stroking to the thought of you since he met, watching as tears form in your pretty eyes, as your nails press against his thighs, making him hiss when you go deeper. As you all hit a bump his cock is shoved even deeper, while you’re balancing yourself, he feels it, the back of your tight throat.

“Oh f-fuck… there, baby, you’re taking me so well… can you take it if I… fuck this tight little throat?” You pull back with a pop, shifting your thighs, the friction alone eliciting a cry of pleasure that just makes him crave you more. “It’s okay if not yet.”

“I want it.” He’s lost then, sitting up and forcing his cock in your throat so deep you choke for a moment.

“Breathe out your nose, relax baby.” You do as he orders, Satoru Gojo still in that suit with a pretty cock slamming up your throat, stretching and burning, you feel him thicken inside your throat as the tip hits your uvula, you’re clinging to him, struggling to take more. “That’s it, not even gonna be able to talk, that throat is mine.”

Satoru descends into madness when you’re gagging just a bit, drool making his cock slicker and slicker, while the sounds of you sucking him wetly fill the limo, and he’s so close. The car stops and soon he hears it open, but it’s already too far, one or two more sucks and he’s busting, and you also have no intention of stopping, even as pretty tears smear that mascare.

“Where do you want it, baby?” You pull back as the door has a rap of Kiyotaka’s knuckles.

“We’re here Mr. Gojo.”

“I’m coming…” He chuckles as you giggle, covering your mouth with your palm as you do, and he’s brushing drool off your chin. “One sec.”

“My mouth.” You whisper, so daringly, he blinks before he’s got his cock back in your mouth, and you’re sucking him eagerly, swirling your tongue along every ridge, vein, every bit of him.

“You are going to be such a naughty girl f’me, look how pretty you fucking are like this.” He’s fucking your throat fully now, sitting up as your knees press into the soft mats of the floor, and you’re struggling to act calm, when you’re so nervous. “Pull back a little.”

You do as he says, earning his soft moan.

“Good girl, m’gonna cum, f-fuck can you… take me baby?” His voice is just a quiet whisper, and at your answer- sucking him deeper, he busts his creamy load so much it’s hard to swallow it all. “Oh m-my… that’s it, drink it all, like a good girl.”

You’re drinking Satoru’s milky cum down your throat, bit by bit, gulping him down while he pulses from aftershocks, biting his own lower lip to muffle his guttural groans and soft whines. He’s murmuring your name, over and over, you’re easing back just a bit, licking the rest of him up, saliva and the remnants of his sticky ropes dripping from your lips.

“God, look at you.” Satoru’s pulling you up then, yanking you to sit on his lap, as your eyes lower shyly. “Perfect, fuck I’ve never felt that good.”

“Really?” You ask softly, and he exhales, nodding, cupping your face.

“Is it normal to keep thinking how pretty your eyes are during it?” He’s speaking more to himself than you, brushing his thumbs in circles over your cheeks, which are burning.

“I thought it when you ate me out.”

“Yeah?”

“Your eyes… surely you know how beautiful they are. Also… you came a lot, you know- that was a lot to swallow, Sir.” You’ve got him laughing then, as he kisses your lips, tasting himself on them, and you shift just so, over his cock that’s still glistening with you.

You’re worth every bit of money in the world, worth it all, to have this moment with you, not just cumming - and fuck he needed it - but your laughs, your blushes, your cute little motions. Worth any fight or anything Satoru will have to do in order to keep you safe.

For the first time since he took over at age eighteen, he feels light, he feels so good, to think he’d do anything but spend time with you makes his heart clench. “Think I’m falling, shit.”

“Satoru… please don’t say that if you don’t… it will hurt if you don’t mean it.” You say, tears swimming now, while you press your lips against his again, softer, and he’s slinking a hand up your waist. “Because so am I.”

Satoru’s heart thuds now, gulping, throat dry at the sincerity of your words, not a woman who wants him for his money, his power, his looks, position… no you want him. And fuck he wants you.

“It’s insane.” You say, and he sighs, eyes darting back and forth across your gorgeous face.

“It is, but baby I’m insane, don’t you know?” You bite that lower lip, making him tut, pulling it from the grip. “I won’t say anything I don’t mean.”

“Neither will I, ever. I mean every word… of how much I feel. How my mind is racing, however… well it’s dirty.”

“Is it now?” He’s wiggling his brows, as you laugh softly. “The thoughts?”

“Um…” You’re whispering in his ear, like it’s a secret. “Could you choke me again, when we…”

“Oh… oh. Fuck yes I can. You liked it so much?” You’re nodding against his neck, he pushes your chin up to face him. “Choke you harder?”

“Yes, please.”

“Fuck do we need to go on this date? I can take you home, shit.”

“But you’ve never been on one!”

Satoru sighs, adjusting his cock now, and you eye it, seeing it’s already getting hard once more. “I want to go, I just also wanna fuck this perfect pussy.”

“We have time. No work tomorrow, remember?” He’s sighing, pulling you close against his chest.

“You deserve many more days off. Now, let’s go hmm?” You nod eagerly, ever curious where he’s brought you, when he finally opens the door, the cool breeze hitting both of your overheated bodies when you step out, eyes taking in the beautiful marina, along with a giant, beautiful boat bobbing up and down the water, lit up in the evening with soft white lights.

“What’s this? It’s beautiful.” You hold his hand then, as the breeze gently blows your hair back, and for a moment he forgets all the danger, forgets anything but how you look in that moment.

“It’s my boat. Just bought it.”

“Huh?”

“For the date.”

A/N- hehe- yes he bought a boat for that dattee. Still a lot more to go with these two, but Toru got some relief. This ties heavily into Pour it Up part 6 but I tried not to copy it verbatim and show a diff POV. I hope you all enjoy!!

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[calypso-apologist]

Could you do Hermes and/or Apollo head-cannons if there s/o is like a princess but her father (the king) was both verbally and physically abusing her thx :)

tumblr user arsonist123 really making me reconsider adding the heart after every post's title but i'm commited to the aesthetic

Hermes and Apollo with an abused princess darling ♡

Hermes

Hermes is the type of guy to straight up kidnap you. Consensually, of course. If you'd let him, he would absolutely just pick you up and fly off, giggling loudly.

But of course, you're too kind for this world despite all the suffering and hardships you've endured and you don't want to leave the people in your kingdom with the tyrant king.

It's adorable, of course, but come on, the kidnapping thing would've been so much fun!

Still, Hermes adores your cute self too much to just go against your wishes like that. And so he starts to think of a plan to get you to himself. He might be getting some tips from Athena, but he decides those are too boring. And then he has the brilliant idea to ask Zeus for help.

Because asking Zeus about romance obviously always works well.

Still, no matter who helped, Hermes did come up with a plan! Sort of.

His plan is to quite literally scare your father shitless. He uses his role as the Messenger God and delivers your father a very scary (and very fake) prophecy from Apollo himself. Yes, he got his help to write it. To make it more believable.

And then cashed in a few favors, getting Zeus and Poseidon to cause some nasty storms around your island. Maybe some shitty crops if Demeter agrees to help. And maybe a tiny plague with Apollo's help.

And the "prophecy" clearly states your father has to give up his crown to you and leave the palace to live as a beggar among his people.

And it also includes you making a visit to a certain god's temple to get his blessings and so the curse placed on your land is undone. A temple that belongs to someone who's not afraid to... send a message.

Of course you go to his temple, knowing damn well who the "prophecy" was about. And you confront him about it, flicking his nose.

"You've made the whole prophecy thing up, didn't you, Hermes?"

You only get laughter in response.

Apollo

When he learned that his precious little ray of sunshine is getting hurt, he comes up with a plan.

Now, of course, he'd be delighted to simply shoot your father, but that would put you at risk of being given away to one of your suitors.

The suitors you, of course, keep refusing, absolutely enamored with the God who composes songs and speaks poetry just for your ears each night.

And so, he plans to free you in a way that you'll probably consider very sweet and romantic.

He disguises himself as an artist, a musician, who wishes to work in your father's palace and asks for your hand in marriage.

Of course, while your father laughs at him marrying you, he does enjoy music, so he lets the mysterious man stay and play for him.

He is immediately the only one you care about, sneaking away whenever you can. You're happy! You're just so happy that he's there, always giving you that soft, adoring look as he subtly serenades you, his words so masterful that only you understood, everyone else assuming his songs were about the beauty of nature.

Eventually, even if it takes weeks or maybe even months, he softens your father's heart and asks again to have you as his bride.

It's worth noting that with just how your father has grown to adore the new musician, he's also stopped harming you in any way, easily soothed into sleeping if he was nearby, charmed by Apollo's words.

And then, once the king finally agrees, Apollo reveals himself as the god of music and poetry, taking you away from your father's kingdom...

And then he still shoots him, of course.

[ghstyles]

Elysium | His Angel

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Pairing: College!Yn x CrimeBossl!Harry

WC: 6.5k

Summary: How Harry Styles met his angel

His Angel Masterlist

· · ─────────────·────────── · ·

The bass thrums through the exclusive nightclub, vibrating beneath Y/N's feet as she follows her friends through the crowd. The place screams money and danger in equal measure. All sleek black surfaces, private booths guarded by serious-looking men, and beautiful people trying too hard to look like they belong.

"I can't believe we got in!" her friend Mia shouts over the music, clutching Y/N's arm excitedly. "Do you know how impossible it is to get into Elysium without being on the list?"

Y/N shrugs, taking in the scene with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "Perks of knowing the right people, I guess."

Their other friend, Zoe, leans in, nudging Y/N’s side. "And being hot.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes. "That's ridiculous. We didn't get in because of that"

Mia nudges her, eyes wide. "Come on, let's get drinks!"

They make their way to the crowded bar. As Y/N waits, she feels a prickling sensation, as if someone is watching her. She scans the crowd, her eyes eventually landing on a VIP section elevated above the dance floor.

There, lounging with casual dominance in the center of the booth, sits a man who seems both part of the scene and separate from it. He's undeniably handsome. Sharp jawline, intense eyes, an air of controlled danger in the way he holds himself. Unlike the eager crowd around him, he appears almost bored.

Until his eyes meet hers.

Y/N feels the impact of his gaze like a physical thing. She quickly looks away, unsettled by the intensity of the brief connection.

"Who's that?" she asks Mia, nodding discreetly toward the VIP section.

Mia follows her gaze and nearly chokes on her drink. "Holy shit, that's him. That's Harry Styles. The owner. He never comes here on Saturdays."

Before Y/N can respond, a bartender approaches with a glass of amber liquid.

"Compliments of Mr. Styles," he says, placing it in front of her.

Y/N stares at the drink, then back at the VIP section. The man—Harry—is still watching her, one eyebrow raised slightly in challenge. She can feel her friends buzzing with excitement beside her.

"Tell Mr. Styles thank you," she says to the bartender, then adds clearly, "but I prefer to buy my own drinks."

She pushes the glass back across the bar, ignoring her friends' shocked expressions.

"Are you insane?" Zoe hisses. "You don't turn down Harry Styles!"

"Watch me," Y/N replies, turning her back to the VIP section and ordering a vodka soda.

The night continues, and Y/N determinedly enjoys herself with her friends, though she can't shake the feeling of being watched. An hour later, the same bartender approaches again, this time with a different drink. Something fruity with an umbrella.

"Mr. Styles thought perhaps his choice wasn't to your taste," the bartender explains with a barely suppressed smile. "He's offering alternatives until he finds something you like."

Y/N can't help the laugh that escapes her. "Persistent, isn't he?"

She glances toward the VIP section. Harry is leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, watching her reaction with undisguised interest. When their eyes meet again, he raises his own glass in a mock toast.

On impulse, Y/N takes the fruity concoction and walks directly toward the VIP section. The security guards look to Harry, who nods once, allowing her to approach.

"Most women would be flattered by the attention," Harry says when she reaches him, his voice deep and smooth, with an edge that suggests he's used to getting what he wants.

"Most women aren't me," Y/N responds, placing the untouched drink on the table in front of him. "And I don't drink things from strangers, no matter how expensive their clubs are."

Instead of being offended, Harry looks amused, his eyes traveling slowly over her face, down to her lips, then back to her eyes.

"Harry Styles," he says, extending a hand. "Now we're not strangers."

Y/N hesitates, then takes his hand. His grip is warm and firm.

"Y/N," she replies, deliberately withholding her last name.

Harry's lips curve into a smile that makes her heart beat a little faster.

"Y/N," he repeats, as if tasting her name. "Sit with me."

It's not a request, but not quite a demand either. Something in between that makes her want to both comply and resist.

"I'm here with friends," she says, nodding toward Mia and Zoe, who are watching with wide eyes from the bar.

"They can join us," Harry offers, though his eyes never leave hers, making it clear who he's interested in.

Y/N considers him for a moment, then shakes her head.

"Maybe another time," she says, turning to leave.

Harry catches her wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the strength she can feel in his fingers.

"Dance with me, then," he says, his voice lower. "Just one."

Y/N looks down at his hand on her wrist, then back to his face. Up close, he's even more attractive. Sangerous in a way that should send her running but instead makes her curious.

"One dance," she agrees finally.

The dance floor is crowded, but people seem to instinctively make space for Harry as he leads her through the press of bodies. When he turns to face her, pulling her closer than strictly necessary, Y/N feels a thrill of something that's not quite fear run through her.

"So," she says as they begin to move to the music, "is this what you do? Send drinks to women and expect them to fall at your feet?"

Harry's hand slides to the small of her back, warm through the thin material of her dress.

"Only when they catch my attention," he replies, his eyes holding hers. "And they don't usually send the drinks back."

"Maybe you need the challenge," Y/N suggests, surprised by her own boldness.

Harry's eyes darken slightly, his fingers flexing against her back.

"Maybe I do," he agrees, pulling her incrementally closer. "Though I usually get what I want in the end."

Y/N raises an eyebrow. "Pretty confident for someone whose drink I just rejected. Twice."

Harry laughs, the sound rich and genuine, transforming his face from intimidating to almost boyish for a brief moment.

"Yet here you are, dancing with me," he points out.

The song changes to something slower, more sensual. Harry's hand slides lower on her back, not quite inappropriate but definitely possessive. Y/N knows she should step away, create some distance, but something about him draws her in.

"I'm curious," she admits. "What does a man who owns a place like this do when he's not sending drinks to women?"

Harry studies her, as if deciding how much to reveal.

"I have various business interests," he says vaguely. "The club is just one of them."

"That's not an answer," Y/N challenges.

His lips quirk. "It's all you're getting for now."

They dance in silence for a moment, the chemistry between them building with each sway of their bodies.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Harry says finally, his thumb tracing slow circles on her back. “And I notice everyone who walks into my club.”

Y/N raises a brow, amused. “That’s a lot of people to notice.”

Harry’s gaze sharpens, locking onto hers. Without a word, he spins her smoothly, guiding her back into his chest. His lips lower to her ear, his voice low and deliberate.

“I would have noticed you.”

Her breath catches as his words settle over her, the bass of the music a faint echo compared to the quiet intensity of his tone.

“Probably because I don’t go out much,” she says, trying to steady her voice. “I’m at Westlake University. Moved here for school.”

Harry nods, filing away the information, spinning her back to face him. “Studying?”

“Psychology. With a minor in criminal justice.”

That earns her a small, intrigued smile. “Planning to analyze criminals?”

Y/N smiles. "Something like that."

Harry leans back in, his lips near her ear. "And what would your analysis of me be, Y/N the psychology student?"

His breath against her skin sends a shiver down her spine.

"I'd need more data," she manages to say, her voice steadier than she feels.

Harry pulls back just enough to look at her, his expression shifting to something more intense, more predatory.

"I could give you more data," he suggests, his meaning unmistakable.

Y/N knows she should walk away. Everything about this man screams danger and complication. But the heat in his eyes, the chemistry crackling between them, makes her reckless.

"Your office," she says, surprising herself with the decision. "Not your home, not a hotel. Just an hour, then I go back to my friends."

Harry's eyes widen slightly, clearly not expecting her directness. Then that slow smile returns, satisfied and hungry at once.

"My office it is," he agrees, taking her hand and leading her away from the dance floor.

They navigate through the club, Harry nodding to security as they pass. No one questions where they're going or tries to stop them. It's clear who's in charge here.

His office is surprisingly tasteful with dark woods, leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Harry locks the door behind them, then turns to face her.

"Having second thoughts?" he asks, noticing her hesitation.

Y/N shakes her head, stepping closer to him. "Just wondering if you do this often."

Harry's hands come to rest on her hips, drawing her against him.

"Bring women to my office?" he clarifies. "Never."

Before she can decide if she believes him, his mouth is on hers, hungry and demanding. Y/N responds immediately, her body arching into his as his hands slide down to cup her ass, lifting her against him.

"Fuck," he breathes against her mouth. "You taste even better than I imagined."

He walks her backward until she hits his desk, then lifts her onto it, stepping between her thighs. His hands are everywhere—tangling in her hair, tracing the curve of her breast, sliding up her thigh beneath her dress.

Y/N pulls at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin beneath her palms. Harry helps, practically tearing the buttons in his haste to remove it. His body is a work of art—toned and tattooed, with a strength that makes her mouth go dry.

"You're sure?" he asks, his voice rough with desire as his fingers find the edge of her underwear.

Y/N nods, beyond words as his touch sends electricity through her veins. Harry's eyes hold hers as he pushes the fabric aside, his fingers finding her already wet and ready for him.

"So responsive," he murmurs appreciatively, circling her clit with his thumb. "So fucking perfect."

Harry's fingers work with devastating precision, drawing small circles around her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance. Y/N's head falls back, a breathy moan escaping her lips as he slides one finger inside her, then another, curling them to find that spot that makes her thighs tremble.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice low and rough.

Y/N forces her eyes open, meeting his intense gaze as he continues to work her with his fingers, his thumb maintaining that maddening pressure against her clit.

"I want to see your face when you come," he tells her, the crude words somehow making everything more intense. "And you will come, angel. First on my fingers, then on my cock."

The confidence in his voice, the absolute certainty that he can deliver on that promise, sends another rush of wetness to her core. Harry feels it, his eyes darkening as he increases his pace.

"That's it," he encourages, his free hand gripping her hip to keep her steady on the desk. "Let go for me."

Y/N feels herself tightening around his fingers, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. When his mouth drops to her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, she shatters, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through her.

"Fucking beautiful," Harry murmurs against her skin, working her through the orgasm, not stopping until she's trembling from oversensitivity.

Only then does he withdraw his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her as he holds her gaze. The sight is so erotic that Y/N feels desire pooling in her belly again, despite having just come undone seconds before.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he tells her, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through her. "And I've been imagining it since I saw you walk into my club tonight."

His hands move to the hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs.

"Off," he orders, helping her pull it over her head and tossing it aside.

Y/N sits on his desk in just her black lace bra and matching thong, feeling both vulnerable and powerful under his hungry gaze. Harry steps back just enough to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving her body.

"Touch yourself," he instructs as he unfastens his pants. "Show me how you like it."

The command should embarrass her—she's never been this bold with previous partners—but something about Harry makes her want to obey. She slides her hand between her thighs, fingers finding her still-sensitive clit as she watches him free himself from his boxers.

The size of him makes her breath catch, both intimidated and desperately eager to feel him inside her. Harry strokes himself slowly, watching her fingers move between her legs.

"Condom?" she manages to ask, her voice breathy with arousal.

Harry reaches into his desk drawer without taking his eyes off her, retrieving a foil packet. He tears it open with his teeth, rolling it on with practiced ease before stepping between her thighs again.

"Spread wider for me," he directs, his hands gripping her hips to position her at the edge of the desk.

Y/N complies, letting her knees fall further apart as Harry aligns himself with her entrance. He teases her first, running the head of his cock through her wetness, circling her clit in a way that makes her whimper with need.

"Please," she breathes, beyond pride now, wanting only to feel him inside her.

"Please what?" Harry asks, his voice strained but still commanding. "Tell me what you want, Y/N."

The use of her name sends another jolt of arousal through her.

"I want you inside me," she tells him, meeting his gaze directly. "Now."

A flash of approval crosses his features before he pushes forward, entering her in one slow, deliberate thrust that has both of them groaning. Harry pauses once he's fully seated, his forehead dropping to rest against hers.

"So fucking tight," he murmurs, his breathing ragged. "You feel even better than I imagined."

He gives her a moment to adjust to his size before he begins to move, setting a pace that's deep and measured, each thrust hitting spots inside her that make her see stars. Y/N wraps her legs around his waist, changing the angle and drawing him even deeper.

"That's it," he encourages, one hand moving to the small of her back to support her. "Take all of me."

The desk creaks beneath them as Harry's thrusts grow more forceful, his control visibly slipping as pleasure builds. He reaches between them, his thumb finding her clit again, working it in time with his movements.

"Come again," he orders, his voice strained. "Come on my cock, angel."

The combination of his touch, his words, and the relentless pressure of him inside her pushes Y/N toward the edge again. She clings to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as her second orgasm approaches, more intense than the first.

"Harry," she gasps, her inner walls beginning to clench around him.

"That's it," he growls, his pace becoming punishing. "Say my name when you come."

The command sends her over the edge, her body arching as pleasure explodes through her, his name falling from her lips like a prayer. Harry's rhythm falters as she tightens around him, but he doesn't stop, working her through the orgasm before pulling out completely.

Before she can protest the sudden emptiness, he's turning her around, bending her over the desk, her chest pressed against the cool wood surface.

"I'm not done with you yet," he tells her, his hand running down her spine before gripping her hip. "Not even close."

He enters her again from behind, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper. Y/N cries out, oversensitive but still somehow wanting more. Harry establishes a brutal pace, one hand gripping her hip while the other tangles in her hair, pulling just enough to arch her back.

"Look at you," he says, his voice rough with exertion. "Taking it so well. Like you were made for my cock."

The crude praise should offend her, but instead, it sends another rush of arousal through her already overstimulated body. Harry seems to sense this, his words becoming filthier as his thrusts grow more erratic.

Just when Y/N thinks she can't take anymore, he pulls out again, turning her to face him before lifting her effortlessly. Her legs wrap around his waist as he carries her across the room, pressing her back against the wall.

"Hold onto me," he instructs, supporting her weight with his hands beneath her thighs.

Y/N locks her arms around his neck, marveling at the strength it takes to hold her this way. Harry enters her again in this new position, the angle hitting a spot inside her that makes her cry out.

"There it is," he says with satisfaction, adjusting to hit that same spot repeatedly. "One more time, angel. Give me one more."

She didn't think it was possible. Not after two already and especially when most guys struggled to get one. But the way he's moving inside her, the way he's looking at her like she's the most exquisite thing he's ever seen, has her building toward a third peak.

"I can't," she gasps, even as her body tightens around him.

"You can," he insists, one hand moving from her thigh to where they're joined, his thumb finding her clit again. "And you will. For me."

The pressure of his thumb, combined with the relentless thrusting and the weight of his gaze locked on hers, pushes her over the edge one final time. This orgasm is different. It’s more intense, almost painful in its pleasure, ripping a scream from her throat that Harry captures with his mouth.

Only then does he allow himself to follow, his rhythm becoming erratic as he chases his own release. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside her, a guttural groan escaping him as he comes, his body shuddering against hers.

They stay like that for several moments, both breathing heavily, his forehead resting against hers. Y/N feels boneless, completely spent, her body still pulsing around him in aftershocks.

Eventually, Harry carefully lowers her to her feet, keeping an arm around her waist when her knees threaten to buckle. There's something almost tender in the way he steadies her, a gentleness that seems at odds with the man who just fucked her senseless against his office wall.

"Alright?" he asks, his voice quieter now, a hint of concern in his tone.

Y/N nods, unable to form words just yet. Harry guides her to the leather couch at the side of the office, grabbing his discarded shirt along the way and helping her into it. The gesture is unexpectedly thoughtful, as is the bottle of water he retrieves from a mini-fridge, uncapping it before handing it to her.

"Drink," he says, the word still carrying that commanding tone even as his expression softens slightly.

She obeys, suddenly aware of how thirsty she is. Harry sits beside her, still gloriously naked and apparently unconcerned about it. His hand comes to rest on her thigh, thumb tracing small circles on her skin.

"You're full of surprises," he comments, watching her with an intensity that makes her wonder what he's thinking.

"How so?" Y/N asks, finding her voice at last.

Harry's lips curve into that dangerous smile again.

"You don't seem like the type to follow a stranger into his office," he observes. "Let alone let him fuck you three ways from Sunday."

The crude language makes her blush, but she holds his gaze.

"Maybe I'm not usually," she admits. "But there's something about you..."

Harry's smile widens, satisfaction evident in his expression.

"The feeling is mutual," he tells her, his hand moving higher on her thigh. "Which is why I'm not done with you yet."

Y/N's eyes widen, her body somehow responding to the promise in his words despite how thoroughly he's already wrung her out.

"I don't think I can—" she begins, but Harry cuts her off with a kiss, this one slower, more deliberate than the desperate ones they'd shared before.

"You can," he assures her when he pulls back, that same absolute confidence in his voice. "And you will. But not here."

He stands, offering her his hand.

"Come home with me," he says, and it's not really a question, though his eyes search hers as if waiting for permission. "Let me show you what I can do when we have a proper bed and all night."

Y/N knows she should say no. She knows nothing about this man except that he owns this club, commands respect from everyone around him, and just gave her the most intense sexual experience of her life. Going home with him is reckless, potentially dangerous.

So  shakes her head, reality returning now that the haze of desire has cleared.

"I can't. My friends will be worried."

Harry looks like he wants to argue but instead reaches for his pants off the floor, extracting a business card. He scribbles something on the back before handing it to her.

"My personal number," he explains. "Call me."

Y/N takes the card, tucking it into her purse without promising anything. Harry pulls her in for one more kiss. Slower this time, almost tender.

"You'll call," he says against her lips, somewhere between a statement and a question.

Y/N smiles enigmatically. "We'll see."

She doesn't call. Not that weekend when she returns to her university, not the following week. She tells herself it was just a one-time thing, an exciting story to remember but not repeat.

But two weeks later, as she exits her favorite coffee shop near campus, a familiar black Range Rover pulls up to the curb. The window rolls down to reveal Harry, looking both out of place and perfectly at ease in the college town.

"You didn't call," he says simply, his eyes taking in every detail of her surprised face.

Y/N stares at him, coffee clutched in her hand. "How did you find me?"

Harry's smile is slow and confident. "I told you, Y/N. I usually get what I want in the end."

And despite knowing better, despite all her training in psychology telling her this is a dangerous path, Y/N finds herself walking toward the car, drawn by something she can't—or doesn't want to—resist.

She steps closer to the car, “what do you want Harry? I’m busy” she crosses her arms, taking a sip of her coffee that Harry knew had too much sugar than a normal person should have

He leans slightly out the open window, his forearms resting on the door as he studies her with those intense eyes. He's dressed more casually than at the club with a simple black t-shirt that clings to his shoulders, expensive watch glinting on his wrist, but he still radiates the same controlled power.

"Too busy to call?" he asks, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Or just busy in general?"

His gaze drops to the coffee cup in her hand, then back to her face.

"Three pumps of caramel, extra sugar, light on the actual coffee," he says, nodding at her drink. "Your barista looked concerned for your health."

Y/N's eyes narrow slightly, unsettled by how he knows her coffee order.

"That doesn't answer my question," she says, maintaining her composure despite the flutter in her stomach at seeing him again. "What are you doing here, Harry?"

Students pass by on the sidewalk, some glancing curiously at the luxury vehicle and the imposing man inside it. Harry seems oblivious to the attention, his focus entirely on her.

"You were supposed to call," he says simply, as if that explains everything. "When someone doesn't follow the script, I get...curious."

He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against her arm where it's crossed defensively over her chest.

"Get in the car, Y/N. Let me buy you lunch."

It's not quite a command, but it's definitely not a request either. That same in-between tone that had worked on her at the club.

Y/N takes a deliberate step back, out of his reach.

"I have class in an hour," she says, though she doesn't immediately walk away. "And I don't appreciate being tracked down. It's creepy, not flattering."

Harry studies her for a moment, then nods as if coming to a decision. He opens the car door and steps out, his height and presence immediately dominating the sidewalk. Several passing students actually stop walking to stare.

"Forty-five minutes," he counters, moving into her space with a confidence that borders on arrogance. "That's all I'm asking. Then I'll drive you to your class myself."

He reaches for her free hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he uncurls her fingers from their tight grip.

"Unless you're scared," he adds, the challenge clear in his voice. "Afraid you might actually like me beyond a quick fuck in my office."

Y/N inhales sharply at his crude reminder of their encounter, heat rising to her cheeks despite her best efforts.

"I'm not afraid of you," she says, the lie obvious to both of them.

Harry's smile turns knowing, almost predatory.

"Not afraid of me," he corrects softly. "Afraid of how I make you feel."

He's standing too close now, close enough that she can smell his expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely him. Close enough to remind her body exactly what it felt like to be pressed against his.

"Forty-five minutes," he repeats. "Then you never have to see me again if that's what you want."

Y/N knows she should walk away. Everything about this man from his unexpected appearance at her school to his obvious disregard for normal boundaries screams danger. But there's something else there too, something in the intensity of his gaze that makes her wonder if there's more to Harry Styles than the dangerous club owner with too much money and power.

"Thirty minutes," she counters, asserting what little control she can. "And you stay on your side of the table."

Harry's smile widens, genuine amusement mixing with triumph.

"Deal," he agrees, opening the passenger door for her.

As Y/N slides into the luxurious interior of his car, she can't help wondering if she's making a terrible mistake. But when Harry gets in beside her, his eyes meeting hers with that same electric intensity from the club, she also can't help wondering if some mistakes might be worth making.

"So," she says, buckling her seatbelt as he pulls away from the curb, "how exactly did you find me? And don't say 'I have my ways.' That's not an answer."

Harry glances at her, then back at the road, his hands confident on the steering wheel.

"You told me you study at Westlake," he reminds her. "Psychology with criminal justice."

"That doesn't explain how you knew I'd be at that specific coffee shop at this specific time," Y/N presses.

Harry is quiet for a moment, then shrugs slightly.

"I had someone look into your schedule," he admits without apology. "You go to that coffee shop every Wednesday between your morning classes."

Y/N stares at him, caught between outrage and disbelief.

"That's…that's stalking, Harry. You can't just investigate people because they don't call you back."

He turns to look at her, his expression serious despite the casual way he's just admitted to having her followed.

"I wanted to see you again," he says, as if that justifies everything. "Normal methods weren't working."

"Normal methods like accepting rejection?" Y/N suggests pointedly.

Harry's jaw tightens slightly, the first crack in his composed facade.

"Is that what you were doing? Rejecting me?"

His tone is casual, but there's an undercurrent of something else, perhaps genuine uncertainty, which surprises her.

Y/N sighs, looking out the window as they drive through the college town.

"I don't know what I was doing," she admits quietly. "That night was... intense. But complicated. You're complicated."

Harry pulls into the parking lot of an upscale restaurant and the kind of place college students rarely frequent due to the prices.

"I'm actually very simple," he says, turning off the engine and facing her. "I see something I want, I pursue it."

His eyes hold hers, intense and unwavering.

"And I want you, Y/N. More than I've wanted anyone in a very long time."

The raw honesty in his voice catches her off guard. Y/N swallows, trying to maintain her composure.

"Thirty minutes," she reminds him, reaching for the door handle. "And then I have class."

Harry's smile returns, confident now that he's gotten what he wanted—for the moment, at least.

"Thirty minutes," he agrees. "For now."

They take a seat and Y/N sit with her arms crossed, “so, how many other women have you harassed into having lunch with you?”

Harry settles across from her, his posture relaxed despite the tension between them. The restaurant staff clearly recognizes him, a nervous maître d' having practically tripped over himself to seat them at the best table in the house.

Harry smirks at her question, unfolding his napkin with deliberate movements.

"Harassed? Is that what we're calling this?" he asks, seeming genuinely amused rather than offended. "And to answer your question: none. Contrary to what you might think, I don't make a habit of tracking down women who ignore me."

He signals the waiter, who appears instantly at his side.

"Bring us the chef's selection and a bottle of the Château Margaux," he says without consulting the menu or Y/N. "And water for the lady."

The waiter nods and hurries away. Harry turns his attention back to Y/N, his eyes tracing over her face as if memorizing every detail.

"You're special," he says simply. "A first for me in many ways."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, maintaining her defensive posture.

"Let me guess: I'm the first woman to ever say no to the great Harry Styles?"

Harry's expression shifts slightly, something darker passing behind his eyes.

"Among other firsts," he acknowledges. "But I'm more interested in why."

"Why what?" 

"Why you didn't call," he clarifies, leaning forward slightly. "We had a connection. You felt it too so don't bother denying it. Yet you walked away."

Y/N shifts uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny. The waiter returns with water and wine, pouring a glass for Harry before retreating again.

"Maybe because normal people don't pursue connections with men they meet at clubs and sleep with once," she says finally. "Especially men who clearly have...complicated lives."

Harry takes a sip of his wine, watching her over the rim of his glass.

"And what exactly do you think you know about my life?"

Y/N uncrosses her arms, leaning forward slightly.

"I know enough. The way people react to you, the security, the resources to track down a random college student." She gestures around at the restaurant. "The fact that you can walk in here without a reservation and get treated like royalty. You're either old money or you're something else entirely."

Harry's lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Perceptive," he murmurs. "That psychology degree is working for you."

"You didn't answer my question," Y/N points out.

Harry studies her for a long moment, then sets down his wine glass.

"What if I told you I'm both?" he says finally. "Old money...and something else entirely."

A server appears with their first course, small plates of artfully arranged appetizers. Harry waits until they're alone again before continuing.

"My family had money," he says, his tone shifting to something more detached. "But I built my own empire. Through methods that wouldn't exactly make the cover of Forbes."

He watches her reaction carefully, waiting to see if she'll run.

Y/N takes a sip of her water, processing his words.

"So you're what…a criminal with a trust fund?"

Harry actually laughs at that, the sound unexpectedly genuine.

"That's one way of putting it," he acknowledges, his posture relaxing slightly. "Though these days, most of my businesses are legitimate. On paper, at least."

He picks up his fork but doesn't eat, instead pointing it at her plate.

"Try the scallops. They're exceptional."

Y/N ignores the food, focusing on him.

"And that doesn't bother you? Breaking the law?"

Harry's expression turns contemplative.

"Laws are made by men in suits who've never had to fight for anything," he says quietly. "I learned early that following the rules only works for people who are born into the right circumstances."

There's an edge to his voice now, something raw and personal that catches Y/N off guard.

"So you just decided to make your own rules?" she challenges, though her tone has softened slightly.

"I decided to survive," Harry corrects her. "And then I decided to thrive."

He reaches across the table, his fingers stopping just short of touching hers—respecting her earlier boundary despite the clear desire to break it.

"I'm not a good man, Y/N. I won't pretend to be. But I'm honest about who I am, at least with you."

Y/N studies him, her training in psychology making her look for tells, for signs of manipulation or deception. But all she sees is surprising sincerity.

"Why me?" she asks finally, the question that's been bothering her since she saw his car outside the coffee shop. "You could have anyone. Why chase after a college student who didn't call you back?"

Harry's expression shifts again, something almost vulnerable appearing before he masks it.

"Because you looked at me and saw a person, not a resource," he says quietly. "Even when you were walking away."

He picks up his wine again, taking a drink as if to wash away the unexpected honesty.

"And because you're fucking gorgeous when you tell me no," he adds, his tone shifting back to the confident man she met at the club. "It's refreshing."

Despite herself, Y/N feels a smile tugging at her lips.

"You're used to people saying yes," she observes.

Harry's answering smile is predatory.

"To everything," he confirms. "Always."

Their eyes lock across the table, the air between them charging with the same electricity from the club. Y/N is the first to look away, suddenly interested in the scallops he recommended.

"These are good," she admits after taking a bite.

"I know," Harry says, watching her with undisguised interest. "I only surround myself with the best."

The implication is clear, and Y/N feels heat rising to her cheeks despite her determination to remain unaffected.

"Twenty minutes left," she reminds him, glancing at her watch. "Then I have class."

Harry nods, accepting the boundary for now.

"Tell me about your studies," he says, surprising her with what seems like genuine interest. "What made you choose psychology and criminal justice?"

Y/N hesitates, then decides there's no harm in answering.

"I've always been fascinated by why people do what they do," she explains. "Especially when their choices hurt others or themselves. Understanding the mind behind the action..."

She trails off, suddenly aware that she's basically describing her interest in people like him.

Harry's smile suggests he's made the same connection.

"And what have you learned?" he asks, his voice dropping lower. "About people who break the rules?"

Y/N meets his gaze directly.

"That they're usually running from something," she says honestly. "Or toward something they think they can't have any other way."

Harry's expression flickers, something hitting home in her assessment.

"And which am I, Dr. Y/N?" he asks, his tone light but his eyes serious. "Running from or running toward?"

Y/N studies him, seeing beyond the dangerous exterior to something more complex beneath.

"Both," she answers softly. "Just like most of us."

Harry looks momentarily taken aback by her insight, then nods slowly, acknowledging the truth in her words.

"See?" he says, his voice rough. "This is why you should have called me back."

Y/N checks her watch again, gathering her things.

"Time's up, Harry," she says, standing from the table. "I have class."

Harry rises immediately, signaling for the check without taking his eyes off her.

"I'll drive you," he says, making it clear this isn't negotiable.

As they walk to his car, he stays close but doesn't touch her, maintaining the boundary she set despite the obvious tension between them.

"This doesn't change anything," Y/N says as he opens the passenger door for her. "One lunch doesn't erase the fact that you had me followed."

Harry nods, his expression serious as he closes her door and walks around to the driver's side.

"I know," he says once he's settled behind the wheel. "But it's a start."

He drives her to class in comfortable silence, pulling up outside the psychology building with five minutes to spare.

"Thank you for lunch," Y/N says formally, reaching for the door handle.

Harry reaches out, his fingers wrapping gently around her wrist to stop her.

"Have dinner with me tomorrow," he says, his tone making it clear this matters to him. "A proper date. No tracking, no showing up unannounced. Just text me yes or no."

He releases her wrist and pulls out his phone, sending her a text so he can be sure she has his number.

Before she can question how he knows her number, Y/N feels her phone vibrate in her pocket but doesn't check it yet.

"I'll think about it," she says, which is more than she intended to give him.

Harry's smile is knowing, as if he can already sense her answer.

"That's all I ask," he says, though they both know it's not all he wants.

As Y/N walks away toward her class, she can feel his eyes on her back, watching until she disappears inside the building. Only then does she pull out her phone to see his message:

Say yes. I promise to stay on my side of the table. Unless you ask me not to.

Despite herself, Y/N smiles, already knowing she'll probably say yes, even though every instinct tells her Harry Styles is dangerous in ways she's only beginning to understand.

· · ─────────────·────────── · ·

A/N: what do we think of the series so far?

Taglist: @silastylesswift @babegoals @harryssunflower17 @puzio19 @goldensunflowerss-blog @drewrry @tinawritesstuff @dipmeinhoneyh @spinninc @harrystyleshotwife @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @estaticheart

[akisteahouse]

Soulmates. A concept where in a world of magic, talking direbeasts and overblots, were believable enough, with families passing down tales of romance and tragedies generation to generation. Some describe meeting their soulmate like a love-at-first-sight encounter, others say it feels like finding a missing puzzle piece, an instant click.

So… what do the Savannaclaw boys think of meeting you, their soulmate, for the very first time?

Jack Howl! Who had been fed all the fantastical stories of soulmates ever since he was a child - constantly begging his parents to tell him the tales over and over again, before repeating the tales as bedtime stories to his younger siblings, to the point that they had long gotten sick of it, asking him to read them something else for once, please? So, of course, Jack had expected - no, waited - for his soulmate to come, eventually. Hopefully, by the time he’d graduated Night Raven, opened up maybe a gym, with a nicely furnished apartment of his own, with a small balcony to put his cacti… but fate had other plans. You. Just another student walking the vast halls of Night Raven. And yet. Just the sight of you made his face burn hotter than the many days of running track under the sun ever could, the blood roaring louder than waterfalls in his ears, the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart beating against his chest… oh, and his tail thumping on the floor. Wait, what? Thanks to you, he simply can’t focus on any of his classes and club activities anymore… what a bad influence! >:( As his soulmate, you ought to take responsibility… By following his principles, of course! Which means he’ll have to be around you to make sure you follow them! Whatever shall you do… ;)

Ruggie Bucchi! Who never really thought much of it. Sure, sure - he’d meet his destined soulmate, and then what? Partners were costly, and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, what kind of idiot would want to date, much less marry, some poor street rat? No one, he supposed - and he really couldn’t blame this mysterious soulmate either. Sure, granny would nag him constantly for this belief, telling him to ‘Have a little whimsy!’ But he couldn’t. Because whimsy took up time, and time was something he couldn’t afford. Until he met you, that is. It was a complete accident - you were simply yet another unassuming person who had just bought a sandwich from the school’s canteen, the same sandwich that everyone wanted. Which meant Leona had to get it and sent Ruggie to steal it for him. So, Ruggie did what he always did. He sneaked up to you, snickered, and was about to use his unique magic when - oh. You heard him. Well, that didn’t happen often. Your eyes locked into his, and he felt his knees weaken, his tail twitch, and his hands tremble. “Y-You - Laugh With Me!” Who then proceeded to run away with non of the limbless agility he usually possessed, face burning pink. Ohnonononono - absolutely not. Unless? But you - agh, he forgot Leona’s stupid sandwich! Hey, soulmate - help him out here, pleaaaaaaaaase? ;)

Leona Kingscholar! Who wasn’t really fond of all that soulmate crap. After all, his parents weren’t soulmates, and the only soulmated pair in his family were Falena and his wife, and that was just a lucky fluke. Besides, even if he did meet his soulmate, if they weren’t royalty? End of that relationship. Who was he to say that he’d even meet his soulmate? Hundreds and hundreds of people lived in Sunset Savanna, much less the entire world of Twisted Wonderland, so the chances of finding them realistically were slim. The thought had never really bothered him much - after all, he couldn’t miss someone he don’t know. And then, you happened. Just another fool who’d stumbled upon him napping in the botanical gardens, with the luck of accidentally waking the prince up. He had lazily cracked his eye open, tail twitching in annoyance when - huh. His heartbeat raced, eyes boring into yours with an intensity. Great Seven. His ears twitched for any sounds from you, tail unconsciously curling around your ankle. Soulmate. He’d actually managed to meet his soulmate. What kind of cruel prank was this? (Do expect to get trailed and used as a human pillow now. Sorry not sorry. ;) )

[mahmahmahmysharona]

When you and Bob try to stay away from each other and fail miserably.

(Bob Reynolds x Avenger Reader) Part 4/?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself falling apart. Not enough for everyone to notice, but enough for you to feel it.

You missed him. You missed your friend. And unfortunately, now that you knew you loved him, Bob's absence hurt you.

Maybe you did something wrong. Maybe you didn't. Bob is a complicated person with a complicated past. Perhaps he just changed his mind about wanting to know you.

You found yourself staying in your room to avoid accidently coming across him (you didn't need to bother: Bob was also hiding out in his room for the same reason), and this raised questions from the others. But you shrugged them off, not wanting to spill your secrets and worries when it looked like they might not even matter anymore.

Things aren't helped by the fact that Bob was getting worse. Not that you witnessed it, but the others made sure to mention it to you. He seemed more agitated, more careful than usual. He was talking to himself again. He was jumpy, too. It scared you. You wanted him to be okay.

Finally, you could both stand to be in the same room again. But there was little eye contact, and only conversation when necessary. ("Can you pass the milk?") You hated it.

If you had more courage, you would have told him that you couldn't stand him not being around you, and how unfair it is to lose someone just when you realised you loved them.

You would happily pretend not to if it would make him come back to you.

Things came to a head one afternoon when Bucky and Walker came to blows. Walker, resorting to pointing out the flaws of other team members in order to defend himself, ended up using Bob as collateral damage, calling him "the world's worst house pet."

Bob was standing right there. Walker didn't mean it. It was a cheap shot. But Bob took it personally. You should see his his fists curl up and a sadness wash over his eyes. He slipped out of the room, unnoticed by the others in the chaos of the fight.

You were furious. Raging. If you couldn't help Bob like you used to, you could sure as hell still stick up for him. You crossed over and knocked Walker to the ground, slamming your fist into his nose.

Walker yelped, but he fought back. He always fought back — you made him promise never to go easy on you in training, so why should he now?

The fight lasted a good while, and the others even got bored and wandered off. Eventually, you both called it quits, somewhat unsure of who actually won. But you were fairly certain he got the message you were trying to send.

Afterwards, you headed back to your room, your cheek scraped and jaw bruised from the scrap. You were about to go inside when you heard a crack from across the hall. Bob.

You rushed inside his room without knocking. He was pacing the floor, rubbing his wrists together. Talking to himself. To him. Behind him, a fist-sized patch of the wall crumbled inward.

"Bob," you said, stepping forward. His fist wasn't bloody — he doesn't get injured as easily as you — but he looked shaken. When he saw you, he stepped backwards. God, it hurt you to see him look at you like that.

"Please, don't come any closer," he said. "Something's happening to me."

The tremor in his voice and the self-hatred you felt even from where you stood was enough to make you move towards him again. "You're upset, that's all," you said. "Ignore Walker, he was just heated. You were in his eyeline, and you're an easy target. He was out of line."

"Except he's not out of line," Bob said. When you reached out for him, he shifted away, suddenly alert. He told you again to stay back. It was the worst he's been in a while, and he didn’t know what would happen to you if you touched him.

"I'm here with you," you told him. It's the best you could do if he wouldn’t let you go any closer. His eyes were red with restrained tears.

He continued, "I'm the most useless person here, and even if I weren't, I'd be the most dangerous."

"I don't believe that. I don't believe it for a second."

"None of you are safe with me."

"I'm safe with you, Bob."

He looked at you. You could practically hear his heart splintering into a thousand pieces beneath his ribs. "How can you be sure?"

You once told him that if he ever got lost, you'd find him. You'd crawl through your worst memories to bring him back. He was lost now, right in front of you, and you needed him. He needed to know you trusted him, that you'd give him everything on blind faith alone, because you believed in him.

You reached out, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him into you. You kissed him. His body stiffened under your touch, but he didn't pull away. Your lips moved against his, trying to say a hundred things without speaking at all. I'm safe. You're safe. We're safer together.

You kissed him for god knows how long, until you needed to come up for air and you heard him choke out, "I—I don't know if I can—"

But he could. You knew he could. You took his arm and wrapped it around you, holding onto him for dear life as you did so. His hand hooked onto your shirt and grasped the fabric tightly. A lifeline. He was coming back to you, out of the darkness.

"Don't let go of me, okay?" you told him, your lips grazing his mouth again. He nodded, tightening his grip on you. You kissed him, and his time, he kissed you back. At the feeling of it, you became undone. Suddenly, it was you who needed to be held. You'd never felt like this, and it was almost too much. Between kisses, you heard yourself begging him, "Don't let go of me.”

He held you firmly, and when he pulled away to speak, his voice was calmer. He pressed his forehead against yours, lips skimming your own as he said, “I won't.”

And he didn’t. He didn’t even when you had to pull away from the kissing for good, dizzy and breathless. When you finally looked at him again, he was flushed, his nostrils flaring with loaded breaths. But he was calmer. He was back. And more importantly, he was holding you steady. Weren’t you supposed to be supporting him right now?

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah. …How did you know to do that?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know if that would do anything. Worth a shot.”

He caught your eye, and before you knew it, his thumb was touching your cheek, just below the fresh grazing.

"Did you have this before?" he asked.

"I beat the shit out of Walker. I'll admit, he got some good punches in."

Finally, he laughed. Then you. When you both regained yourselves, you worked up the nerve to say something — something you’ve been wanting to say since that day in the elevator.

“Bob…” you began. “I’m not sure I can be your friend anymore.”

His first reaction was one of hurt, and it’s one you’re far too used to seeing on his face. But once he understood what you were saying, he nodded.

“I don’t think I can either.” You felt his hands tighten at your back, and he whispered, “I'm going to ruin this.”

“No, you won’t. And even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t let you.”

“How can you be sure?”

When the words landed, you both caught each other’s eyes and smiled. Right before you pulled him down to you, your lips meeting again, and the world disappearing once more.

Next time: When it’s yours and Bob’s first time…twice.

Tag list: @purplefluffycows @i-shall-abide @avengersinitiative2012

[petew21-blog]

Prison visit

Hi, my name is Logan. I come from a quite boring family that includes my dad, my mum and my little brother. Unfortunately our family is now somewhat broken, because my dad decided behind our back to steal some money from the company he was working for. It wasn't a small ammount for all I know, so he was locked up and we all had to got to the trial.

We all had to dress up to represent our family. I hated the moment when the judge sentenced my father for several years in prison. All I could think about was the fact that I was the one, who had to take care of our family now. Which meant that I had to leave the army.

Me and my brother skipped the first few visits, because mom said that dad had to get used to being in prison and he didn't want to be seen in a bad mood. But the first visit was quite nice. Maybe except for the attack. Some prisoner bumbed into momand they both fell on the ground. It must have been a mental patient, because he started crying and screaming, that his body was stolen. Creepy, right?

Mum must have been shocked. She even missed a few turns when we were coming home from prison. I left her to relax and cooked dinner for us. When I went up to get her, the door to her bedroom were wide open and I couldn't believe what I saw.

Mom stood in front of the mirror, naked and fingered herself. Screaming in pleasure.

She turned her head slightly and smiled. I immediately left, hoping she didn't notice me.

I got my brother and told him that mom was too tired to join us.

The following days were really strange. Mom was walking around the house only in her bra and panties. I didn't wanna look, because it's my mom but ut was unavoidable.

One night, I think I heard male and even another strange female voices coming from my parents bedroom.

I eventually had to start taking care of my brother, because she didn't seem concerned, that he didn't have any food to eat etc.

I woke up in the morning to a weird feeling on my body. I opened my eyes and froze. My mom sat on my bed, my chest and boxers were uncovered and she had her hand on my stomach.

I couldn't let out a word, what was happening?!

Mom:"I have such a handsome young son. You really take care of your body, don't you? My son a soldier. How PROUD I am."

Me:"Mom, what are you..."

Mom:"Ah, don't you worry. I am just taking care of my LITTLE boy. But looking at the bulge you're packing, it seems you're not so little. Haha"

Me:"Mom... Stop it."

Mom:"Oh, come on. Don't you tell me you don't like these perfect tits. That you never wanted to touch them. And this pussy. God, you're really gonna enjoy this. And I can't wait to enjoy that dick" she said as she squeezed her tits and touched herself over the pants she was wearing.

As she finished, she quickly sat on top of me, I still couldn't react. She then pressed something against my chest, which hurt real bad. I passed out.

I opened my eyes and realised I sat on top of someone. "What the fuck?" I saw my own face smiling at me, My old hands were now placed on my hips. And I felt something below me... hardening

My body:"So, how do you like those tits... MOM?"

Me:"What the hell?!? What did you do?"

My body:"I gave you a gift. You can enjoy those tits and that tight wet pussy you like to peek on. You dirty WHORE. And unless you want to be fucked by your own body, I suggest you get off, because I am more then ready to shoot."

I moved and fell on the ground. I look down and indeed. My muscular chest was replaced by a pair of big boobs. My mother's boobs. I am my MOTHER

Me:"Mom, why are you doing this? Why me?"

My body:"Ah, you're so naive. I am not your mom, Logan. Or I should call you Cristine, now. Or better yet, MOM."

He started flexing and laughing at me

My body:"The chicks are gonna love this. I can't wait to fuck someone as a man again. Being a woman sucks."

I still sat there in shock, watching my body posing, flexing and enjoying his new reflection.

Only then I noticed the phone next to the mirror. My body noticed it.

My body:"Oh this? That's for me to have a memory. And also an insurance if you won't behave. I recorded what I did in your mother's body and If you won't behave I won't hesitate to use that as evidence to get you in prison. Unless you want to join your father and mother in prison, I suggest you behave. Now, go cook something, woman. I am hungry and now I got a job to do."

I got up from the floor, looking back at my body, feeling up my body.

I need to get help somehow

Prisoner's P.O.V.

Getting this kid's body is like a gold medal. After many years in my overweight body and then being that woman, this is by far the best thing yet.

I took out his phone to snap a few photos.

This kid has an amazing body. I can't wait to put it to test.

A message came to his phone number from LOVE<3. I browsed through the messaged. Fuck, this kid is gay. Nevermind, gonna turn him straight and dump this fucker. There won't be no more gay shit under my watch.

"Jeez. He's like a sculpture. If I had looked like this before, I wouldn't have to steal from all those people. This is amazing. Let's get this body showered and ready for Stacy."

At Stacy's house

Stacy:"Fuck. I can't believe it worked again. I was worried, that you would stay in that woman's body. I couldn't picture us like that back together."

Prisoner:"Don't worry, my darling. I found myself a great body for you to suck and enjoy. Wait till you see the dick that this kid has. Not only it is big, but the head of the cock is so strange, but hot at the same time."

They started making out. The tongues moving from one mouth into another. But there was a problem, that has never happened before.

Prisoner:"Wait. Something is wrong."

Stacy:"It happens sometimes. Remember that you're in other man's body and you're still not used to it."

Prisoner:"It's not that. This kid is gay. I think I can't get hard for you."

Frustrated and bored, the new Logan rested in the living room of his new body. The "mother" was walking around suspiciously, but careful.

Prisoner:"This is bullshit. I can't be gay forever. I need to find a better body to swap."

The younger brother rushed in with his way too loose Spiderman costume to hug his brother, who now wasn't used to it and pushed him off of himself.

Kyle:"Why did you do that?"

Prisoner:"I don't want another man to touch me."

Kyle:"You're funny, Logan. If you wouldn't have a boyfriend, i would believe you."

Prisoner:"Right."

Kyle:"Ok, so byeee."

Prisoner:"Where are you going dressed like that? It's not Halloween."

Kyle:"To Johnny's. We are having a costume party sleepover, while his older brother is gonna look after us."

Prisoner:"Who is the brother? Do I know him?"

Kyle:"Yeah, you do. You played football together. He's in university."

Prisoner:"Hmm. Interesting." I just hope it's not another gay jock like this one.

Prisoner:"Kyle? I have a cool deal for you. Wanna hear it?"

Kyle:"I bet mom won't know a difference between me and Logan. I can pretend to be him easily without her noticing. But I wonder why would Logan do that. It's nice of him that he gave me his body to try the costume, but he went to that party instead of me. I was looking forward to that."

Kyle pulled up the zip of the costume and started doing Spiderman poses.

Kyle:"Hell, yeah. Wait till the boys see how my costume first better then everybody else's!"

[ambersky0319]

I have at least 5-10 and I have not reached true perfection ever

Dw about reaching true perfection! It's not a requirement, the game doesn't end after reaching perfection, and if you want you can always go back and play the farm again later. You don't need to delete old farms to make new ones so you'll always be able to return to your previous farms if you decide you wanna further your progress

Also, as a reassurance: there's really no right way to play this game. You can take literally dozens of years in game to reach perfection or even complete the community center and you'll still be playing as correctly as someone who minmaxes or speedruns.

And! Since this was your first farm! Obviously you're gonna look back and think of all the things you could have done differently. And the beauty of this game is that you can make a new farm and implement everything you now want to do instead, while still being able to look back fondly on your first playthrough.

okay so any stardew valley players, how many farms do you have and how many of them are at true perfection? because I'm on my first playthrough and usually with first playthroughs, I feel obligated to reach perfection with my first farm/first character/etc... but I'm super tempted to start a new farm because I feel like I wasted a lot of time in my first two or so years when I could've spent it like,,,, making money/food/fishing/etc and for some reason I feel guilty about it, even though I know this is a game you can take at your own pace. does that make sense??

I guess I just kinda need reassurance that not every farm needs to reach true perfection before starting a new one 💀 I feel like I didn't manage my time quite right and that I rushed the wrong things due to stress and obv being new to the game/new to farming games in general lol,,

[airybcby]

Now I'm Covered In You

(bllk boys as boyfriends)

a / n — thought making another post in this form would be fun, so i hope you enjoy!

content — bllk characters x reader, gn! reader, pet names used in a few parts, sadly canon otoya i fear, misspelled words are there for a reason i swear, cheater! otoya and oliver, some characters repeated, lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — bllk boys and what type of boyfriend they'd be

✿.｡. “ how's one to know? ” .｡.✿

—The Romantic One

is always planning surprises for you, and i mean always. there's not a single week where you aren't being taken on 'adventures' that always lead you to a different restaurant.

what's the point in having all this money and not spending it on you?

they are constantly writing you love letters and poems. well, they try to anyway. they're not the best with their words and with many spelling mistakes, rather liking to show with actions, but they tried for you.

usually their poems end up something like this

' roses are red

so is my heart

my darling

my deer

my sweet buttercup

you taste just like a

tasty soda pop '

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ISAGI YOICHI, shido ryusei, jyubei aryu, ALEXIS NESS

— The Player

you know the famous saying, "how you get them is how you lose them?" yeah that's exactly how this relationship is.

you'd been one of their many side quests while they had a relationship going on. eventually after they'd ended said relationship, they'd chose you as their next partner.

they do spoil you with many gifts, mostly after you catch them cheating on you for the umpteenth time, but you stayed because they 'loved you'

sure they told you they loved you, but that wasn't really the case when they'd broken up with you because you were 'boring' them.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ OTOYA EITA, oliver aiku

— The Protector

is constantly worrying about you and is looking out for your safety.

with them being this 'big bad' soccer player, many people refuses to even look you in the eyes when you were with them. but if someone dared to hit on you when they walk off for a second? please pray for them.

some guy could be asking you for directions and he'd come up behind you and wrap an arm around you without even uttering a word. you didn't have to look at them to know the look they were giving the man was nothing but deadly.

some may call it controlling, but you knew them, they just wanted to keep you safe from all these men.

you had him, who else would you need?

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, rin itoshi, SHOEI BARO, tabito karasu

— The Funny (insane) One

is constantly making jokes- some that aren't funny - but you laugh anyways.

everyone always asks you how your relationship is doing so well, and the answer is always, " i don't know," because you genuinely don't. yes, the two of you get into arguments, and sometimes the two of you get heated enough to have to take time apart from each other, but you always come back together.

how?

because they always forget what the fight was even about and come back into your space to show you some cat meme they believe you would like.

and the two of you laugh until you feel better again.

maybe you don't know how your relationship is so healthy, but you know why you're happy.

because they take the time to make you laugh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ BACHIRA MEGURU, RYUSEI SHIDO, gin gagamaru, seishiro nagi

— The Traditional One

dates. Dates. DATES!!

they took you on soooo many dates before officially asking you to be their partner.

they definitely give the vibes of "my mom taught me i needed to..."

just the best gentleman!

you need to step over a puddle? they're putting their jacket down over it for you (it wasn't necessary, but they insisted on it)

you talked about wanting to see a movie once? he's already bought the tickets.

if you get married? he's insisting you stay home

" a pretty face like you doesn't need to work, i'll provide us everything." in his words

will do anything for you, really.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ YUKIMIYA KENYU, michael kaiser (pls ignore the mom part), REO MIKAGE, oliver aiku (again)

✿.｡. “ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bone ” .｡.✿

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[jailforwriter]

Let's delve into...

Look, I know you don't like to fail. I KNOW. Neither do I. But do you know who will—and should—fail a lot? YES, your characters! Failure does all the nifty things writing teachers promise us will keep the story interesting: raise the stakes, bring emotions to a boil, and keep things from stagnating and/or getting predictable. Triumphs have their place, and should be present (unless you enjoy metaphorically kicking your readers in the shins, which, hey, more power to you!) but your characters can't always win. That's boring, and unfortunately, boring is the biggest noncriminal sin in entertainment. The good news is that, when your character does win, their previous failure is going to make it all the more satisfying. Doesn't that make you want to nail that failure for maximum improvability? (Hey I HEARD YOU rolling your eyes just now. Rhetorical questions are NOT cringe. Rude.)

So, what do I mean by a "good failure"?

Basically, when they mess up naturally, because of their own choices, in a way that reflects their flaws. "But wait," I hear you say, "does that exclude the possibility of an external circumstance making for a good catalysts for failure?" Nope! There are no hard and fast rules in writing, and shit does, indeed, just happen sometimes. Happen poignantly, even. But your character can't be entirely blameless in every scenario because then things get *taps on chalkboard* BORING. Seriously, consequences are so cool, I promise.

Okay then, why do I want a good failure?

Emotional resonance: do you remember that time you studied hard and still failed the test? Betcha that felt real bad. Yeah, it's that, but magnified by however many people died (or were sad about it! The stakes don't always need to be cataclysmic).

Catalyst for organic growth: do you remember how failing that test made you decide never to pull an all-nighter cramming again? Perhaps even reassess your relationship with God, your identity, and your place in the universe? Yep. And it felt earned, too. Huh.

Narrative depth: how mad were your parents about that test? And how much did it suck getting your Nintendo taken away because of it? That was compelling, realistic tension, baby! It put you right on the—unfun, but necessary—path to making that eventual success feel meaningful. Yay.

Relatability: you know, I felt kinda bad writing all that stuff about how failing that test wrecked you. Because I have empathy, certainly, but also because I've been there too! Mistakes are human, and few things are more effective at humanizing someone than making them an honorary cringefail loser. (This holds especially true if they're usually the god king of being hot and correct, btw.)

Fine, so how do I go about writing that?

Foreshadowing: why, yes, everything DOES always come back to foreshadowing. Good catch! See, foreshadowing marks the difference between a failure being contrived and awkward, and landing because it was tragically inevitable. The character has been making bad decisions that will come back to bite them all book, and the time for gleaning lessons from the teeth marks on their ass is now.

Make the failure specific and personal: sure, failing a test is a universal experience, but failing the most important test ever conceived in the history of mankind and if you fail your mom will hate you and your girlfriend will leave you and you'll go bald isn't. Make 'em feel it where it hurts!

Consequences: internal or external, they better be tailormade to catalyze change. Be it damaged interpersonal relationships or crippling self-doubt, they better not walk away from their mess-up willing to do it again. (NOTE: exceptions may apply in negative character arcs, but even then, the next time they make that mistake, it shouldn't be the exact same one again. It should be so, so much worse.)

Redemption: following on from the last point—make it a turning point! Show me how things are fifty kinds of broken now and how your character plans on rebuilding the mess using the tools they just got from chucking the toolbox full-tilt at their lives.

Examples be upon ye:

Simba in The Lion King: hopefully we can all agree that thinking you caused your father's death is a valid reason to crash out. However, the important thing here is that the crash-out was not eternal. It allowed for an emotional development cooldown period, and when it did end, empowered Simba to make his triumphant return all the more triumphant. Do you think smacking his geriatric uncle off a mountain would've been half as hot if his emotional arc and subsequent redemption had been underbaked? No. Literally. C'mon, lock in.

Zuko in Avatar: The Last Airbender: ahh yes, the king of redemption arcs, which kinda also makes him the king of cringefailing (both externally and internally! Very illustrative, thank you, Zuko). But I bet you don't just remember his struggle with capturing Aang. In fact, I'd bet quite a few buckaroos what you most remember is his struggle with honor. Could it be because you're grateful for what each setback did to help him find his? What about how they taught him that true honor was internally cultivated rather than externally conferred? And the fact that he chose to help the person whom he'd vowed to destroy in order to get it, for which he used the tools he painstakingly won throughout his arc? Hmm. Perchance. See what I mean? It just feels right when things come full circle, and boy is a good failure shaped like zero!

Ultimately, I hope you found something useful here and that, the next time you're down in the trenches of narrative predictability and character stagnation, you consider pissing in their metaphorical coffees. Thank you!

Happy writing!

[vxlentinescookies]

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them. 

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books.  So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here” 

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god? 

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner. 

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 14

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 13 | Series Masterlist | Part 15

Chapter Word Count: Over 5k

Chapter Summary: The manager of The Red Room gives you a little advice regarding your situation with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, backstory, reference to stalking, hopelessness. inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! I realize some of this may feel like filler, but it's happening for a reason. Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Ray kept a close but respectable distance as he took you to his car. It was similar to the vehicle he drove Bucky around in, but a slightly different shade of black that wasn’t as flashy. You should've spotted it sooner, but you weren’t exactly looking for it, were you?

“Have you just been driving around following me all day?” you asked once you were in the car.

“I followed you on foot, too. I’m good at blending in,” he said, giving you a sideways glance as he buckled up and made sure you were buckled up, too. There was no boasting in his statement, just truth. “It wouldn't surprise me if I’m the one asked to stay nearby when you join your friends on Saturday.”

“But perhaps if she really does want to go and you’re unable to accompany her, boss, someone could discreetly keep an eye on her.”

With his looks and massive build, he shouldn’t be able to blend in so easily. How many people paid that close attention to their surroundings though? You hadn’t before. You needed to be on guard more. And what was that going to do to your stress levels?

At least it would be Ray watching if he was asked and not one of Bucky’s other friends.

“Well, I hope watching me drink wine doesn't bore you,” you said, glancing out the window as he drove off, watching the cars and people go by. “How did you get so good at what you do?”

“Making sure you're safe doesn't bore me,” he said. Ironic considering his boss put you in danger. “And I think that’s a story for another time.”

Ray said he had been working for Bucky for a few years. You wondered just how they met. There had to be a story there. “Do you ever think about walking away from it?” you asked curiously, bringing your gaze back to him while he kept his eyes on the road. “I mean, you have a life outside of this, right?”

Did he have family? Friends? A loved one? He had to have a hobby at least. Something.

He tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “Do you think one simply walks away?”

“No, I guess not,” you replied. It was unlikely that you would ever escape, but you didn’t know how it was for people who willingly ran in circles with men like Bucky. You still had a lot to learn. “But I’d like to think there’s hope for you if that’s what you want.”

“I appreciate the hope and I don’t want you to lose that,” he said, sparing you a sad glance. “But you should place it elsewhere.”

Where exactly would you place that hope when Bucky continued to infect everything in your life?

You nodded once, feeling a bit sad for him, too. He just seemed different from the others Bucky surrounded himself with. “Sorry for the questions.”

“Don't apologize,” he said, tapping the steering wheel again. “It’s nice that you care enough to ask.”

You smiled to yourself, content to sit in silence after that. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you aimlessly scrolled through your messages and stopped at Bucky’s name. There were no new messages, but would he send something at the stroke of midnight? And if he was in a mood without you around and Ray eventually told him that Zemo introduced himself to you, what would he do?

“We’re here,” Ray said after a minute, parking his car in front of a tall, sleek building and getting out. He held up a hand to stop the valet from opening the door for you, opting to help you out himself. “This way.”

The sleek theme continued as you went into the lobby and you understood why it was called The Red Room. The color was everywhere, balanced out by a mix of black and gray and soft lighting. The nearby sofa and chairs looked high-quality, as did the art. It appeared to be an oasis of luxury and a place for a well deserved break.

You stopped Ray before you got to the desk. “How much is a room? I get paid tomorrow, but…” You had some money in savings you could transfer over to cover what was surely an expensive cost.

“You haven't checked your account today, have you?”

Taking out your phone with a furrowed brow, you quickly logged into your bank account. An embarrassing squeak came out when you saw the amount, your eyes wide as you looked between your phone and Ray. That had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way…

Bucky.

“He put money in my account?” you whispered, double checking the amount to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you. Why did he do that? “I can't…”

“He did and he won't take it back if you try,” Ray confirmed. “Regardless of how much you now have, if my boss found out that I suggested you stay here and made you pay he’d have my head.”

“Well, what’s the point of having this money then?” you pressed.

Not that you intended to use it. Spending even a dime of it would likely encourage Bucky to give you more. Or was it a test to see if you would spend it? Would he know if you did?

Maybe, just maybe, you could get Addison and Brady a nice wedding gift.

“To make sure you're taken care of in every possible way,” he said, gesturing to you to move forward.

“Welcome to The Red Room,” a woman in a black dress smiled, Ingrid from the name on her tag. “Do you have a reservation?”

“We do not,” Ray said, sliding a card over. “And I’ll need to speak with Natalia regarding a room, please.”

“Natalia?” Ingrid’s smile didn’t slip, but a hardened look took over her eyes and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I’m afraid that’s-”

“It’s fine, Ingrid. I’ll be happy to take care of them.” A redhead in a similar black dress walked over, her heels echoing on the marble floor. She carried herself with grace and power and looked like she could snap your neck without breaking a sweat. So did Ingrid for that matter. “Why don’t you go on break?”

“Of course.” Ingrid’s smile was back on her face. “Enjoy your stay,” she added, gliding away.

“Raymond. Good to see you,” Natalia said, her voice warm as he gave her a nod. “You’ll have to excuse Ingrid. She gets a little protective when anyone asks for Natalia. You know you're one of the only men around who still calls me that.”

“It’s your name, is it not?” he asked, though her tag read Natasha.

“Indeed it is. Maybe one day you’ll call me Natasha,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at you. You didn’t think she was judging you, but you still felt a little self conscious under her gaze. “I wasn't supposed to meet you until later. I also expected Bucky to be with you when that happened.”

You held your breath before you remembered that Ray said the manager had worked with Bucky before. “So you know who I am,” you said. For Bucky to preach about your safety, a lot of people were aware of who you were. “Does everyone know who I am?”

The corner of her lip quirked up. “Not everyone,” she said, turning her attention to Ray. “Why is she here early? Did something happen?”

“She needs a place to stay for the night and she’s not to be disturbed. That includes my boss.”

She raised an eyebrow again. “Understood. I’ll give her suite 213 and put you just across the hall.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard before she slid the card back to Ray. “Follow me.”

“Isn’t a suite a bit much?” you asked. And for Ray to pay for that, you had to pay him back somehow.

She paused to stare at you. “All of the rooms here are nice, but the suites are a bit more spacious. It’ll give you room to breathe while you relax,” she gently spoke. “You look like you could use some rest.”

Did she know the extent of what you had gone through? You weren’t claustrophobic but with Bucky smothering you, breathing and rest didn’t come to you as easily. “I appreciate that,” you said. A spacious area would feel nice.

She nodded, pressing the elevator button. “You’re also welcome to book anything in the spa at no charge and whatever you’d like from the restaurant or room service menu is on the house.”

You gaped at her. “So because I’m Bucky’s girl, you’ll just give me these things for free?” you asked, noticing that she stood on one side of you and Ray on the other. “I mean, I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but there’s no need for the special treatment.”

Everyone so far in Bucky’s circle fawned over you. But what had you done to earn anything? Nothing. All you did was catch the eye of a powerful man.

“Nothing in life is free. There’s a price for everything,” she said above a whisper. “And I know you’re not ungrateful. You’re just not used to it.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it since you grew up with the belief that you had to work for what you were given. “You asked why I was here early. When exactly was I supposed to meet you?”

“Not to spoil the surprise, but Bucky booked a dinner reservation and our best suite for a romantic evening.” She gave Ray a glance, who didn’t look too pleased. “I think he plans to tell you the day of, if I had to guess.”

“Wonderful,” you muttered, a shiver running through your body. You weren't an idiot. If Bucky booked a suite for the two of you, he’d expect you to sleep with him.

“I thought you were good at keeping secrets, Natalia,” Ray uttered.

“I’m very good at keeping secrets that are actually worth keeping, Raymond,” she retorted.

“I’m glad you told me,” you said. In her defense, you asked a question and she gave you an almost direct answer. “Besides, it’s just another thing to add to the list of ‘surprises’ for today. Bucky having Ray follow me. Meeting Zemo.”

“Zemo?” She didn’t give anything away, but she gave Ray another look. This guy didn’t seem to have a lot of fans. “You met Zemo? When?”

“He introduced himself to me at the park just before we came here,” you replied.

She pursed her lips when the elevator door opened. “I can’t wait to hear how Bucky responds to that.”

Your stomach sank. You saw what he did to John after he insulted you. Zemo likely wouldn’t fare much better, but he also seemed to be a bigger player in whatever went on in the city.

“Will you let me do a sweep before she goes in?” Ray asked before Natasha could open the door.

“No one has been in this room and no one knew you were coming here, but I know you'll be chewed out if you don’t,” she said, stepping aside for him.

“You’re not planning to bug the place, are you, Ray?” You didn’t want to think he would, but you had to ask.

He didn’t look offended by the question. If anything, he seemed to understand your concern. “This is meant to be a safe haven for the rest of the day. I won’t take that from you,” he promised, shutting the door behind him. It was nice to have him somewhat on your side, even in the smallest capacity.

The hall was eerily quiet as you stood alone with the redhead. Your gaze darted back and forth, expecting Bucky to waltz in and tell you that this wasn’t a haven at all. That he’d drag you to the suite bed and do whatever he pleased.

“I’ve been told you have a kind heart,” Natasha said, bringing your attention back to her. “That’s good for Bucky.”

“Is it?” you asked, looking down the hall again.

“Relax,” she urged. “You don’t have to feel nervous here. You’re safe.”

“You work with Bucky, so I’m naturally going to feel nervous and suspicious,” you said. You wouldn’t apologize for that. “How much do you know about me?”

“A man named Jake who does security and surveillance works for both Bucky and I. When Bucky needed him for an extended period of time, I was naturally curious as to why. He gave me just enough pieces to put the puzzle together.”

“So you know I’m trapped,” you said. She had to know it wasn’t a consensual relationship.

“More or less,” she said.

“And let me guess. This Jake guy specializes in bugs and listening devices?”

“Hmm. So you know about the bugs,” she said. Bucky was all too proud to share that when you asked. “Jake does specialize in those and you might meet him at some point. If and when you do, don't blame him for doing his job, please. Not everyone gets to choose their line of work.”

“Well, I wish he would’ve stopped him,” you said. You could blame this guy, but it wouldn't do you any good. Like Natasha said, he may not have had a choice.

“If it’s any consolation, he wasn’t pleased when he realized he was helping bug an innocent person's place, but he has a sister and niece to consider,” she said, giving you a hard stare when you opened your mouth. “And before you ask because I know you’ll ask, I can’t help you.”

You tried not to get upset at her immediate denial to help. “May I ask why not?”

She sighed, toying with the delicate gold necklace around her neck. You wondered if the arrow charm was symbolic. “The women who work here… We didn’t exactly have the best upbringing and we didn’t have much freedom, even as adults. Including my sister,” she explained, a haunted look taking over her eyes momentarily. “But Bucky stepped in some time ago and helped us. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to open this place or give us normal life. I’ll be forever in his debt for that.”

“He helped you?” you asked. Marc mentioned that he donated to the local hospital and charities, but this was something else. Was this a normal hotel or some kind of refuge?

“He did. When he isn't doing bad things, he actually does some good,” she answered, still toying with her necklace. “In all the time I’ve known him, there have only been two things I’ve ever heard him say he wants and you’re one of them. If I help take you away from him, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“So you won’t help me, but it’s really more like you can’t,” you guessed. She was essentially in Bucky’s pocket and had to think of the women under her employment and her sister. She couldn’t put them in danger. “No one will help me.”

“Barnes isn’t the kind of man you win a fight against. It’s better for most to stay on his good side than to be his enemy,” she said, putting a hand on your shoulder when you hung your head. “Hey. I’m not telling you to just lay over and accept your new relationship for what it is, but I don’t want you to be surprised when people keep telling you ‘no’ when you ask for help.”

“Everyone just looks the other way and that isn’t…” You bit your lip to keep from screaming.

“It isn’t fair. I know,” she whispered. Her sympathy didn't make you feel better. “I won’t make excuses for him because what he has done is awful, but he isn’t entirely evil. He’s… flawed. We all are.”

Would Bucky be so flawed if people didn’t enable him or look the other way? “Do you think I’ll get used to belonging to him? I keep fighting it, but…” Doors kept getting slammed in your face in terms of help and that hope continued to fade. Was it time to accept the inevitable?

She considered your question. “I can’t say if you’ll get used to it, but there’s a careful balance between embracing a circumstance while maintaining your own boundaries. You need to find that.”

“But I have no boundaries thanks to Bucky,” you argued. He took them away.

“Maybe not now, but you could get some back down the line. He isn’t a man most people win fights against, but he’s still just a man. Use what you know about him and sway him. You have a little more power than you think.”

You thought back to the club when Jax flirted with you. Bucky worked himself up, but your touch and soft demeanor helped calm him down. “I guess I could try,” you said. It seemed easy enough, but he was so good at swinging things in his favor that you had a hard time believing you had a chance.

“And it isn’t much, but I can offer you a space here to use on occasion if you need time away from him. I know you don’t believe he’ll let you use it, but I think you can convince him and you deserve a safe haven,” she said, smiling a little when she handed you a card. “I could even have one of the girls teach you some self defense if you’re interested in any lessons.”

You turned the card over. There was only a phone number listed and a black widow spider. “I appreciate the offer, Natasha,” you said, tucking it in your bag. It wasn’t freedom, but it was something. And whatever Natasha’s full story was, your heart went out to her. “Can I ask what the second thing is?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said Bucky has only wanted two things in the time you’ve known him and I’m one of them. What’s the other thing?”

She shook her head. “That’s for him to tell you.”

Ray came out of the room a moment later. “All clear. Not that I expected anything less from you and your staff, Natalia,” he said. It earned him a small smile as she passed his room card over. “I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.”

“And you can ask for me personally if you call the desk,” Natasha added.

“I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine,” you said honestly. As long as Bucky didn't show up. “I’ll just order some wine and food, curl up in bed, and finish reading my book.” You didn’t need much else.

“Are you sure?” Ray asked.

“I’m sure,” you smiled softly. He had done enough by bringing you there. “Thank you both.”

They each gave you a sympathetic gaze as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you. The red, black, and gray theme continued in the tastefully designed suite. It was the nicest hotel room you had ever been in. Too nice for someone like you.

Setting your bag down and removing your shoes, you went right to the bedroom with your phone and book. The large bed looked comfortable and inviting. Sighing as you stretched out, you stared at the ceiling and tried to reflect on what had recently transpired.

Natasha. She couldn't directly help you and she had her reasons, but she might be a good ally. She was at least in the camp that you deserved some sense of freedom and offered you a small form of sanctuary. It was better than nothing.

Ray, you still couldn't figure him out. Like Natasha, he wouldn't directly help you. Bucky said he was loyal and didn't let emotions cloud him. He seemed to care to an extent though.

You froze when a message popped up on your phone. It wasn't from Bucky though. It was from your coworker, Kate.

“Hey, girl! You know Clark? Pretty blue eyes. Super hot. He stopped in and asked when your next shift was.”

Your stomach twisted in knots. Why was he asking? “Hey. What did you tell him?”

Kate messaged back quickly and your stomach twisted up more. “Told him you’d be in tomorrow and he looked happy until Mrs. Crandle announced that you have a boyfriend?! Girl, WHAT?! I need all the details!”

You groaned and hid your face in the pillow. Mrs. Crandle meant no harm, but this was the last thing you needed. Maybe Clark wouldn't come around after hearing that. “I’ll tell you about it during our next shift together.”

You didn't look at your phone for the rest of the afternoon. Instead, you lost yourself in the pages of the book and only took a break to order a drink and meal from the room service menu. And true to Natasha’s word, no one disturbed you. The food was left outside of the door once ready. Natasha even had a nice pair of pajamas sent up for you.

It was a quiet and relaxing rest of the day.

But as the sun went down and you got ready for bed, you held up your left hand and looked at your bare ring finger. A shuddering breath left your lungs as you imagined a ring around your finger. How happy your friends would be that you found love. How happy Bucky would be to have you tied to him forever.

Glancing at the empty side of the bed after your delicious meal, you wondered how it was going to be sleeping next to Bucky. Was he a cuddler or would he want his own space? Would he hog the covers? You would find out soon enough, wouldn't you?

But for today, he left you alone. He kept his promise. Yes, he sent Ray to watch you, but he hadn't shown up or reached out. He actually gave you some space instead of smothering you. And with you in the suite, he didn't have eyes on you.

Who knows? Maybe his mood improved and he had a good day without you. One could only hope.

“Good night, Bucky,” you whispered, closing your eyes and getting the sleep you craved.

A loud knock on the door woke you. Slowly opening your eyes with a groan, you wondered what time it was. Your body alarm clock said it was too early. Stretching, you made your way to the door and stopped when you heard raised voices outside.

“Get the hell out of my way, Natasha.”

You gasped when you heard Bucky’s voice, the quick anger rushing through you making you clench your fists. God, you knew it. You knew he’d show up.

“Don't make me put you on your ass, Barnes.” Natasha didn't sound afraid at all. What was it like to not have fear? “I’ll repeat myself in case you didn't hear me the first time: My instructions were that she wasn't to be disturbed and that includes you. So unless you're checking in, I suggest you leave. The fact that you’re even on this floor after I promised no one would bother her-”

“He was up here to speak with me,” Ray cut in.

“And I did. Now I need to see her,” Bucky said, the desperation in his voice making your heart ache.

“Boss, it’s two in the morning.”

“Exactly. You need to let her sleep. It’s the least you could do,” Natasha urged.

“I promised her the day to herself, but that day is up and I have to see that she’s okay,” Bucky argued. You were lucky he didn't knock on your door at 12:01. “I just need to see her with my own eyes.”

The bugs at your place would've given him access to whatever he wanted, but he didn't have that in the suite. It was probably driving him crazy. He sure as hell sounded out of sorts.

“Wow, an entire day. How generous.” You almost laughed at Natasha’s snark. It was appreciated. “Is this about Zemo? I know he saw her at the park, but he hasn’t been around here. We both know I’d never allow him to set foot in the door without a very good reason.”

“I still need to deal with him and he’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him with my bare hands,” Bucky growled, making you tense up.

“You have enough blood on your hands, but what’s one more body?” Natasha asked, the conversation reminding you once again that Bucky was a killer. “Look, I’m not going to disturb her and neither should you.”

“Natasha-”

“No. You played this wrong, Barnes. You could've chosen a compassionate route of courting her and eased her into this, but you intimidated her from the start and made it so she won’t ever be free of you. Maybe you're more like your father than-”

The sound of something colliding with the nearby wall made you jump back from the door, your heart thudding. It took a moment to get your bearings before you threw the door open to make sure Natasha was okay. The redhead, Ray, and Bucky all looked toward you and no one had a single mark on them. The wall beside the door, however, had a fist sized hole.

“Kotyonok,” Bucky smiled the second he saw you. He looked like he hadn't slept much. Good. Now he knew how it felt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not having it in you to scream, cry, or anything else. “And did you just punch a hole in the wall?”

He chuckled sheepishly, brushing off his gloved hand. “Yeah, I did that.”

He was unbelievable.

“I’m so sorry he woke you,” Natasha said, putting out an arm to stop Bucky when he stepped forward. “Back up, Barnes. You’ve seen for yourself that she’s fine.”

“Yep. I’m fine.” You gestured to yourself and yawned. “Can I please go back to sleep?”

“Can I come in for just a minute?” Bucky asked, a touch of guilt in his eyes when you narrowed yours. He was pushing his luck when all you wanted to do was go back to bed. “Please?”

“Apologize to Natasha for damaging her property,” you demanded. He had no right to do that.

“I’m sorry, Natasha,” he sincerely stated.

Natasha’s mouth parted before her cool expression took over again. “Thankfully no one else was on this floor, so you hopefully didn't disturb anyone else.”

Bucky's eyes were still on you, full of longing. “May I please come in?”

You mulled over it. Technically he still kept his promise and let you be for a day. You could be angry later that he showed up so early. For now, you needed sleep.

“Come in,” you said, surprising everyone, yourself included. “It’s fine,” you assured Natasha and Ray.

The redhead nodded after a moment and lowered her arm, but the bodyguard shot his boss a subtle glare. “You know I'll have to bill you for the damage,” Natasha told Bucky.

“I know,” he said. He could afford it.

“Thank you, Ray. Natasha. I hope you both get some rest, too,” you said, letting Bucky into the suite and shutting the door.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked you over, but didn't move any closer when you backed up. Of course he had to invade what was meant to be your haven for the night. Strangely, you weren't as nervous as usual to have him so close. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you mumbled, crossing your arms when he slipped his jacket off. “You really couldn't wait until after sunrise to see me?”

“I’m sorry. I was up late at the club and Ray said you were here and… I missed you,” he explained, his expression soft.

It was kind of nice to be missed. “I’m sure you did,” you yawned again. “King of the loopholes,” you added under your breath.

He ran a gloved hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry about Zemo. I should've known he would-”

You shook your head quickly. “Nope. Not having this talk when I'm still sleepy,” you said, heading toward the bedroom. It was too heavy of a discussion to have in the middle of the night. “Take your shoes off. We both know you aren't leaving.”

He looked surprised all over again when you looked back at him. “You’re letting me stay?” he asked, a smile on his face like you handed him a gift. “You aren't telling me to leave?”

“Stay or go, up to you, but I'm going back to sleep,” you said, curling up on the bed. “And if you sleep next to me, don't you dare let your hands wander.”

“And you’re letting me lay with you,” he said, the mattress dipping beside you. “You’re being very agreeable.”

“You’re lucky I’m choosing to be nice instead of kicking your ass or letting Natasha kick your ass for disturbing me and my sleep,” you said, tensing up when he spooned you, his arm wrapped tight around you and his breath warm against your neck. “We have some things to talk about when I wake up.”

Ray following you. Zemo. Natasha’s offer. Bucky’s mom. Your relationship.

“We can talk about whatever you want,” he whispered, nuzzling you gently as your eyes shut. “Did you miss me yesterday?”

“No,” you mumbled.

Your reply didn't stop him from chuckling. “Not even a little bit?”

You sighed. “If I say ‘yes’, will you let me sleep?”

“I will,” he answered.

“I missed you a little,” you said, snuggling further into the pillow. He placed his hand over yours and you blamed your tiredness for why you didn't tense up again. “Now sleep.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, but didn't push any further, thankfully. “Thank you for letting me hold you.”

Your heart clenched. He sounded so happy just to be around you, just to be in your space. You were his everything.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled, drifting off not long after.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was that you hoped Bucky would behave himself.

Lovelies, I think we all knew Bucky would show up the first chance he had. What do we think of Natasha? Is she being truthful that she can't help or is she biding her time? Will Bucky behave? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[meracyn]

ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ, ᴋᴡᴏɴ ᴊᴀᴇ-ꜱᴜɴɢ

sypnosis. after a painful breakup that left you mentally scarred, you're forced to see kwon again, this time at the sekai taikai tournament. after successfully avoiding him many times, he finally got you to himself. the question is- will you go back to him again?

warnings. cursing, female reader & part of miyagi-do. kind of angst? the other 2 parts are up! click these; two, three

You arrived at the bar with the rest of the Miyagi-Do members. After many hours of rough training sessions and competition at the Sekai Taikai tournament, you all agreed it was fair to have some fun for a while.

The music blared through the speakers, every vibration being sent to your body. It was pretty full, but you weren't going to let that prevent you from having fun. Robby and Miguel went off on their own, as well as Demetri and Hawk. Devon had stayed back since she claimed to feel unwell, leaving you, and the female captain of your dojo alone.

You made your way to an empty spot, when you heard an all familiar voice call out to you. Looking up, you saw Sam, who sat next to you on the table, offering you a drink. "Here, you did great today by the way." She said with a smile.

Taking it from her hand, you took a sip. "Thanks, you did too." Not long after, Sam excused herself to take some fresh air outside, reassuring you she wouldn't take long.

As you were left alone, you eventually got bored and decided to go up to the bartender and order a stronger drink, which was probably a bad idea as you ended up drinking more than you intended to. Your vision was slightly blurred and your head was starting to throb.

"Ugh.." You groaned, pressing a hand against your forehead as you tried to walk out of the bar, stumbling on the way before you bumped against someone. Muttering an apology, you took a step forward when a hand grabbed your arm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A sharp, low voice practically hissed at you. You felt your heart stop as you recognized the voice all too well, bringing back painful memories you thought were already gone. You tried to get out of their grasp, but their hold became much more firm, making you unable to leave.

"Let me go," You said, your tone coming off more aggressive than you thought.

"And let you be with those guys who are practically eyefucking you?"

Clenching your fist, you finally looked up. Like you figured out, it was Kwon.

Memories of the breakup flooded your mind, reminding you of the pain you felt back then. It only made your head hurt even more–and your heart, too.

"I can handle myself, thanks." You mumbled, taking the opportunity to remove your hand away from his touch. "I don't have anything to talk to you about."

Kwon reached out to hold you again, this time an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. "Actually, we do need to talk."

You shook your head in anger, attempting to get him off of you. Kwon dipped his head low in response, his lips beside your ear. "Do you really want to cause a scene right now?" He asked, his tone sending you shivers down your spine.

You reluctantly stopped moving, as Kwon took your hand and led you out of the bar, headed towards a dark alley. The air was very chilly, a stark contrast to the bar’s warm atmosphere. As soon as Kwon stopped walking, you yanked your hand out of his.

"Why did you even bring me here?"

"I didn't think you would be at the Sekai Taikai."

"But I am, what about it?"

"You keep avoiding me."

"Yeah. The same reason you ended our relationship turned out to be in vain." You retorted, voice wavering slightly. The alcohol was starting to affect you more by the second, causing you to hold onto the cold, rough wall behind you.

Kwon took a step closer to you, faint hesitation flickering in his eyes for a moment before disappearing just as quickly. He lifted his hand to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. "Remember those nights we spent together?" He whispered.

You shook your head, feeling a wave of drowsiness overcome your senses. "Kwon..don't.." You said quietly.

"Let us try again," Kwon persisted. "Give me another chance..yeah?" He murmured, bringing your face closer to his. Your breath hitched at his actions, heart pounding.

"We can't." You pushed him away from you, making him slightly surprised. "We're in different dojos now. Focus on yours, and I'll focus on mine." Before you could continue any further, Sam spotted the both of you and quickly rushed over to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder as she glared at the male in front of you.

"Get out. Don't you dare get any closer to her." She threatened, before turning to look at you, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah.. let's just go." You replied while avoiding Kwon's burning gaze. Sam nodded, letting you hold onto her for support as she led you out of the place.

You couldn't look back, fearing you would break and go back to him. Although deep down, you knew Kwon would do his best to do just that.

[myth1cs]

Locked in (Oh Haewon x M!Reader)

Yes Haewon spread that Charisma Uniqueness Nerve and Talent (Smut! .... Sorry!) Word Count: 5,588

"Fuck you Y/N, I'll do whatever I want!"

"Haewon please get off the table. You're getting it dirty with your shoes!"

You were getting tired of Haewon. She always purposely went out of her way to piss you off. This time was no different, yesterday you made a big deal about her spilling her drinks all over the table and not cleaning it. Today she decided to get revenge by making the table dirty with her shoes.

You aren't much of a clean freak but the way Haewon kept being so unhygienic was driving you crazy.

"And what if I don't get off the table Y/N what are you going to do about it?" You aren't much of a confrontational person and Haewon knows it. You try to assert authority but she never felt intimidated by you, which made her more comfortable challenging you.

You sighed as you knew you couldn't do anything to get her off the table. The only thing you could do was wait for her to get bored and get off so you could start cleaning the table.

Suddenly you heard someone enter your dorm and looked behind you to see Kim Dahyun.

"Are you guys arguing again?!" Dahyun asked as if she was a mom who was disappointed that her kids weren't getting along.

"It's Y/N's fault!" Haewon said when she saw that it was Dahyun. Something you noticed about Haewon is that she treats everyone nicely. Well everyone except you for a reason that you don't know.

"Both of you guys need to learn to get along. Why do you guys even argue so much?"

"It's all Y/N's fault!"

"Oh really Haewon? Last time I checked you were the one being such a fucking bitch!"

"Enough both of you!"

Dahyun grabbed both of you by an arm and dragged you both into a room.

"I was gonna take you both out to the friend groups hangout but instead you guys can talk out your differences. By the time I get back you both better have made up." Dahyun left and closed the door.

"Wait!" Haewon yelled, she tried to open the door but it was locked. "Dahyun quit playing don't leave me in here trapped with this loser." Haewon started banging on the door but it was useless Dahyun already left.

"Ugh! I hate you Y/N."

"Me? This is your fault Haewon!"

"Shut the fuck up Y/N!"

Haewon went up to you and punched you in the face. It hurt you, it didn't even feel like she put much power into that punch yet it still felt painful.

Both you and Haewon started fighting each other. Leaving bruises on each other and tiring yourselves out at a result. Eventually you both got tired and laid on the bed.

"Fuck you Y/N lay on the floor."

"Why don't you do it Haewon?"

"Because it's gross, now get off the bed!"

"Make me."

Haewon sighed, she didn't have the energy to push you off. You both laid there on the bed for an hour not talking to each other. Neither of you had anything to entertain yourselves with and it was driving you both crazy.

You eventually turned over to Haewon

"Hey can we talk."

Haewon turned over and you guys made eye contact for the first time since you guys laid down on the bed.

"Well not like I have anything else to do."

"Why do you always bully me?"

"Y/N ... I just like seeing your reaction. Seeing you upset is something that-"

While Haewon was talking you started to pay more attention to her body. You never realized how ... good she looked. I mean she was totally your type. How come you never noticed?

You couldn't stop yourself from looking at her lips. They looked so delicious you just knew those soft lips would feel amazing.

"Hey! Hey! Y/N!'

You suddenly came out of your thoughts and realized you've been staring at her for too long.

"Do my lips look that good to you Y/N?"

You blushed and nodded your head. I mean she already caught you no point in lying to her at this point.

Haewon smiled and started scanning your body.

"You know Y/N you're not too bad yourself."

"Really Haewon?"

Haewon pulled you into a hug, hugging you tightly as if you would disappear if she let go.

You hugged her back taking her sweet smell in.

"Y/N I'm sorry for everything. I hope you can forgive me."

You brushed her hair and kissed her on the cheek which made her gasp. She didn't expect you to take such a sudden move on her.

"Haewon I love you. I could never stay mad at you."

"I love you to Y/N"

You both hugged each other tightly and drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly you and Haewon were woken up by the sound of the door opening. Dahyun entered the room.

"When I told you guys to make up I didn't expect this. So are you guys dating now?"

"Wh-were not dating!" Haewon quickly responded in defense.

"Yeah sure, I've never seen you as happy as you were just now Haewon. You were hugging Y/N as if your life depended on it."

Haewon sighed "Fine you caught us, we're dating now."

You were shocked when Haewon said that. You realized you two were now official, and honestly you couldn't be happier.

Haewon reached out for your hand to help you get up. You were still a bit hazy from just waking up but you managed to grab Haewon's hand, and she helped you sit up on the bed.

Dahyun squealed "I'm so happy for you guys!"

You clung to Haewon's arm as if she was going to leave you. You were in love with her. The same girl that one day ago you wanted nothing to do with was the same girl that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

"So when's the first date?"

"Aren't you rushing things Dahyun? Besides little Y/N here is still sleepy, he probably wants to catch up on his sleep."

"Haewon you're only 1 month older than me!" you responded in a groggy voice.

Dahyun giggled "Alright well I'll leave you two love birds to it. Don't do anything dangerous without the proper protection."

Dahyun left you both in the room alone. You laid your head on Haewon's shoulder.

"Haewon can we go back to sleep."

Haewon looked at you and gave you a warm smile.

"Of course we can."

1 week later

You and Haewon were going out on a first date. As you held her hand you couldn't stop yourself from feeling happy. Your heart kept beating fast and it felt like the only thing in the world that mattered was you two.

You and Haewon arrived at the ice cream shop and went inside. There were a handful of people inside but not too many people that it felt cramped. You both went up to the counter and ordered your favorite ice cream flavors.

You both decided to eat outside. You felt the wind blowing on your skin as you ate. It was relaxing, you felt at ease with Haewon at your side. Back then even being in the same room with Haewon would put you on edge but now she was a source of comfort for you.

"Y/N you have something on your face."

Haewon acted like she was wiping something off your face but she really just wanted an excuse to rub your cheeks.

"Did you just make that up?"

Haewon giggled "You caught me Y/N."

Ever since the day Dahyun locked you both into a room you've both been inseparable. You've both been sleeping, showering, and hanging out together. Every morning you felt blessed being able to see Haewon's face first thing in the morning.

When you finished your ice cream you clung to Haewon again.

"Y/N you're so clingy!" Haewon said when she felt you cling onto her.

I mean ... you were, but could anyone blame you? I mean when someone like Oh Haewon is your girlfriend you just have to show her love every moment you get.

"Hey Y/N can I ask you something?"

"Anything Haewon."

"Okay ... just know I don't want to force you into anything if you don't want to do what I'm about to say then that's completely fine and I respect your decision."

That night you locked the door to your room and looked at Haewon a little nervous.

"Y/N are you okay?"

"It's just ... I don't feel good about myself. I don't want you to see me naked."

Haewon hugged you and kissed your cheek.

"Y/N I love you the way you are. But if you don't want to go through with this then that's okay."

Hearing Haewon say those words gave you confidence and you decided to go through with it.

"Can you strip first Haewon?"

Haewon nodded and began to take her clothes off. You were mesmerized, you couldn't believe that she had such a perfect body. But it only made you that much more insecure knowing it was your turn next.

Haewon went up to you and grabbed the hem of your shirt.

"Do you want me to take it off for you?"

"No! Please let me take my time Haewon."

Haewon understood. She backed away and watched you as you slowly mustered up the courage to start taking your clothes off.

When you finally took all your clothes off you felt horrible. What business did you have trying to have sex with Haewon? You should have stayed in your clothes. What were you thinking by taking off your clothes? You should just put your clothes back on and try to-

"Y/N your perfect."

You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard those words come out of her mouth. You felt relieved and happy when Haewon called you perfect. You started blushing and feeling giddy.

"Oh ~ Y/N you like it when I praise you?"

You were a little bit surprised when Haewon said that. You never thought that you had a praising kink but when you thought about it you always felt butterflies when Haewon praised you.

"Well I guess I do." You responded.

Haewon went up and softly kissed your lips. They felt like heaven, you kissed her soft lips back wanting to be able to kiss her forever.

Haewon started mumbling while kissing you "Y/N you're doing so well." It turned you on. Your cock started rising slowly.

You started to deepen the kiss. You both were caught in the moment and you both started to kiss each other more rough. You slid your tongue in her mouth and your tongues started fighting for control.

Neither of you won as both your tongues got tired and you both eventually pulled away.

"Y/N you did great." You felt yourself getting flustered and your cock was getting hard when you heard Haewon say those words.

Haewon looked at your cock and smiled. "Do you want me to take care of you?" You nodded and she got down on her knees.

Haewon was on her knees for a few moments before she spoke up. "Y/N I'm new to this. Is there anything in specific I should be doing?"

You had to ponder for a moment. This was your first time having sex to so you weren't sure if there was something she should be doing or if she should just do what she thinks is right.

"How about you try just touching it?"

Haewon nodded and started to poke your cock. She wasn't sure if there was a specific way she should touch your cock so she just went with what she thought was a safe option by poking it.

"Ngh~"

"Y/N are you okay? Am I doing it wrong?"

"No Haewon your doing just fine."

Haewon started to rub your cock with one finger to see if she could get a reaction out of you. She saw that you slightly reacted but it wasn't anything significant.

"Y/N is there something else I should be doing?"

"Try licking it."

Haewon got her tongue out and started to wonder where she should lick your cock. Should she start with the head? Or maybe the base of your cock. Or would somewhere in the middle be better?

Haewon decided to start in the middle just in case. When you felt her tongue you jerked. Her tongue on your sensitive areas felt great and you felt your legs going weak from it.

You grabbed onto Haewon's head grasping it desperately so you wouldn't fall. Haewon started licking your cock at different speeds. She didn't know which speed was optimal so she did all of them. Randomly going from a slow speed to a slightly faster speed only to drastically increase her pace the next second.

Even with all of the stimulation you felt you didn't feel any closer to release. "H-Haewon I hate to bother you but I'm not any closer to cumming."

Haewon felt horrible when you said that. Was she really that bad? She was regretting asking to have sex she shouldn't have ever tried. She got up and sat next to you.

"I'm sorry Y/N I really wanted this night to mean something special to us." You could tell Haewon wanted to cry for messing up an important moment in your relationship.

"Haewon don't cry." You embraced her patting her back. "Let's try again Haewon"

"But Y/N the moment is ruined now."

"As long as it's with you every moment is precious to me."

That made Haewon feel better. She got back up but this time she was going to do what she thought was right.

"Y/N lay down."

You followed her instructions without hesitation. Haewon got on top of you and started to align her pussy to your cock.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Let's hope so." Haewon said as she quickly took your whole cock in her pussy. She knew it was gonna hurt so she decided to just try to take the whole thing in one go.

"Ow fuck- It hurts."

"Haewon you should get off. I don't want you to be hurt."

"Trust me Y/N I can handle it."

After some heavy breathing she managed to calm herself down and started to bounce on your cock. Her pussy gripped your cock so good you thought the blood flow to your cock stopped.

You both were sweating. It was the first time for both of you so it felt like an extremely intense activity.

"Y/N I feel like something is building up in me."

"It's fine Haewon just relax yourself and let it happen."

Haewon proceeded to cum all over your dick. So much came out that some got on the bed sheets.

She was exhausted. After having an intense orgasm she was ready to hit the hay but she still wanted you to experience pleasure.

"Y/N sit up and let me try to suck your dick again."

"Haewon that's the least of my worries. My time can come another time right now let's just get some rest."

She nodded and fell asleep on top of you.

A few years later

You and Haewon had just finished moving all of your stuff into your new house. After college you and Haewon decided to live together and move into a home together. The rest of your friend group lived separately but you all didn't live far from each other so you guys would see each other every now and then.

"Let's start unpacking Y/N."

You started to help Haewon unpack and as you went through all your things you couldn't help but to think about the past. Honestly so many things fell in place for you and Haewon to even be together. You had to had picked the same college, you guys were randomly assigned roommates, and it just so happened you shared a friend that decided to lock you both in a room. You were grateful for Dahyun as if she had never locked you in that room with Haewon. Well who knows how your life would've turned out.

"Reminiscing about the past Y/N?"

"Yeah I was just thinking about us and how we even came to be you know?"

"I remember, I remember when we first did it. We were so inexperienced."

"Don't remind me Haewon! I prefer to think that night never happened."

You and Haewon started to talk about the past and talk about old memories. Suddenly you heard the doorbell ring.

You got up and went to open the door. When you opened the door and saw one of your friends from your friend group Lily Morrow.

"Y/N it's so nice to see you!"

"It's nice to see you to Lily."

"Where's Haewon?"

"She's unpacking in the living room."

"Want to help me scare her?"

You walked back into the room and went back to help Haewon with the unpacking.

"Who was at the door Y/N?"

"It was just a sales person."

"Ugh I hate sales people. Like why are they bothering us on our own property."

While Haewon was complaining Lily suddenly came up behind her.

"Surprise!"

"Yah!"

"L-Lily! Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry Haewon I couldn't resist."

"Did you plan this with her Y/N?"

"Perhaps."

"You're gonna pay for that."

You knew exactly what Haewon meant.

"Anyways Lily why did you even come over."

"I was in the area and wanted to pay you guys a visit. Well since I'm here I might as well help you guys unpack."

After a few hours you all managed to unpacked all of your things and put them in there place. Lily was about to leave but suddenly it started raining.

"Just my luck. It rains just when I'm about to leave."

"You can stay with us Lily for the night." You offered.

"Really? I don't want to bother you two."

"It's fine you can have the bedroom here on the first floor."

"Thank you."

Lily got up and left for the bedroom. Once Haewon heard the sound of the door close she looked at you and gave you a smirk you were all too familiar with.

"Haewon please don't."

She started to rub your clothed cock and you tried your best to keep your moans in.

"I don't know Y/N. I think you should learn your place."

You gulped knowing what was going to happen next.

"Follow me."

You obeyed Haewon and followed her to the bedroom on the second floor. On the way Haewon grabbed an unopened box. Once you two entered the room Haewon locked the door.

Haewon started to open the box. You gulped wondering what she would pull out. She pulled out handcuffs.

"H-Haewon?"

It was no use she was already lost. Haewon put your hands behind your back and put them in the handcuffs. You didn't resist and let Haewon do what she wanted.

Haewon kissed your lips for a few moments before pulling away.

"Safe word?"

"Lock"

Haewon smiled and went back to the box. She pulled out a whip and went back to you.

"You'll listen to me from now on."

"Yes Haewon." It would only make it worse if you resisted so it was easier for both of you if you just listened to her.

"Now don't move or else I'm going to punish you." Haewon proceeded to pull down your pants and saw your hard cock.

"Horney already Y/N?" You nodded. You couldn't lie you enjoyed seeing Haewon take charge like this.

Haewon started to slowly take your cock. Her tongue glided through your whole length. Swirling your tip and gently sucking. Your legs were shaking you. Wanted to thrust in her mouth but knew better.

You started moaning but you quickly shut your mouth and tried to suppress them. When you did this Haewon used the whip to hit you.

"Did I tell you to suppress your moans?"

"But Lily-"

Haewon whipped you again "I don't give a fuck that she's downstairs. You listen to me got it? Now you let me hear your moans Y/N."

You nodded and Haewon went back to taking care of your cock. You moaned loudly knowing full well that there was a good chance Lily could hear you.

"Mhm~ Yes Y/N let Lily know that you're submissive for me."

Haewon went back to whipping you. It hurt you horribly but something about it turned you on. Haewon started to tighten the handcuffs on your hands to add to your pain.

"Fuck"

There was too much to focus on. The pain you felt was horrible but at the same time Haewon gave you the best pleasure you had ever felt. Your cock started twitching in her mouth and she pulled out.

"Who knows Y/N maybe I'll leave you like this as punishment for earlier."

"Please~"

Haewon pushed you onto the bed and got on top of you. She started to strip her clothes and you couldn't help but stare.

"You're really excited to see me naked huh?"

You blushed and nodded.

Haewon smirked and deliberately started going slower.

"Please don't tease me Haewon."

Haewon smacked your face.

"Since when do you order me around?"

"I don't.."

"Don't speak up unless I say so."

Haewon went back to undressing and after what felt like hours she finally took off all her clothes off.

Haewon sat on top of you and you started to struggle to breathe.

"If you want to be able to breathe properly eat me out."

You started eating Haewon out as fast as possible. You slurped down every bit of juice from her pussy and ran your tongue all over it. Haewon was lost in her own world. Her legs were shaking and she held onto your head for support.

As you felt yourself suffocating Haewon squirted all over you and got off you. You gasped for air and tried to regain composure.

Haewon however didn't have any interest in letting you rest.

"Get up Y/N and let me get those handcuffs off you."

With low energy you sat yourself up and Haewon grabbed the key and freed you from the handcuffs. She also took this chance to take off your shirt.

Haewon got up and went back to the box and reached for something else. She ended up pulling out a blindfold and some ropes.

You gulped. It was far from your favorite activity but you wanted to make Haewon happy.

Haewon tied up your arms and legs. She put the blindfold on you before she got on your dick and started riding you.

She whipped you repeatedly. It stung you horribly but for the sake of Haewon's pleasure you didn't want to use your safe word.

"Fuck Y/N I'm gonna cum!"

Haewon was sadistic which you were fine with but you felt the pain becoming more unbearable overriding your enjoyment. You tried holding out until Haewon came.

But you reached your breaking point. Your body was bruised badly. If Haewon whipped you one more time you felt like you would break.

"Lock! Lock! Haewon please stop!" You yelled in pain unable to take much more of Haewon's sadistic tendencies.

Haewon was snapped out of her trance and quickly got off you. She untied the ropes and took off your blindfold.

"Y/N are you okay?! I'm sorry I got ahead of myself." Haewon was sad when she saw a few tears on you.

"I-I'm fine Haewon."

"No you're not! Come on Y/N let me fix you a hot bath."

Haewon helped you get into the bathroom into the bathtub. She started the warm water to help you relax.

"Thank you Haewon."

"Don't mention it Y/N. I should be sorry to you. I got carried away."

Haewon got in the bath with you and embraced you lovingly. She kissed you in the spot where she smacked you earlier.

"I love you Y/N please don't ever hold off from using your safe word."

"I promise I won't next time Haewon."

You both sat in silence until Haewon remembered something.

"Y/N you did great back there."

To say you were a bit surprised would be an understatement. But it also warmed your heart that Haewon still remembered when you told her you had a bit of a praising kink all those years ago.

"Y/N you are perfect I love you so much."

You felt yourself getting worked up from Haewon's compliments and started to feel your cock rising.

"Want me to make you cum?"

You nodded

Haewon and you got out of the bath. She got to her knees and started to give your cock all the attention she could. You started thrusting in and out of her mouth. Her tight throat felt amazing and you felt closer to release.

You increased your thrusts and Haewon started to deep throat your cock. You ended up spreading your cum all over Haewon's mouth and she swallowed every last drop.

"Your cum is amazing thank you Y/N."

You both dried yourselves before going to sleep together naked.

The next day you were both woken up by Lily's yelling downstairs.

"Haewon Y/N! I made pancakes!"

You both got dressed and went downstairs. You saw the pancakes Lily made and went to eat them.

"Thank you so much Lily. You shouldn't have." You said before eating her pancakes.

"Well it's the least I could do for you guys. Besides I'm sure you guys need the energy after last night."

You and Haewon blushed.

"You heard us?" Haewon said surprised

Lily chuckled "Of course I did. My room was directly under yours. I didn't know you were sadistic like that Haewon."

Haewon couldn't make eye contact with Lily and ate her pancakes with her head down.

One year later

You were nervous.

Today was the day you would propose to Haewon. You ran the scenario multiple times throughout your head.

Step 1: Go to the outdoor venue you rented out for the day and set up the place with Lily.

Step 2: Dahyun picks up Haewon to take her to a "Fancy restaurant"

Step 3: Dahyun tells Haewon that she needs to "Pick up her friend" as an excuse so she can head to the venue.

Step 4: If everything goes well you and Lily should be done by the time Haewon and Dahyun get their and you propose to Haewon.

It should be simple enough.

When you arrive at the venue you notice Lily is not there. Panicking you call her.

"Where are you?!"

"My car broke down!"

You started panicking. Lily was in charge of bringing all the decorations. The venue only had some basic decorations but you wanted to go all out as this would be an important moment in your life. Should you try to pick Lily up? No she lives too far away, you probably won't make it back in time.

Should you tell Dahyun to try to stall for more time? But Haewon would be suspicious if after Dahyun gets a call she suddenly starts stalling.

You checked the time and saw you only had 20 minutes before Dahyun and Haewon would get to the venue.

You were about to have a break down. How could everything go bad on such an important day?

15 minutes passed. Only five more minutes until Haewon and Dahyun arrived. You were contemplating whether you should try to propose another day or if you should just try to make do with what you already have.

Suddenly you heard people scream your name.

"Y/N!!!!"

Looking in the direction of where the sounds were coming from you saw Lily and Bae running towards you.

"Lily and Bae? What are you guys doing here?"

Lily was out of breath "I called Bae to pick me up. We were speeding our way here. And then we ran the rest of the way since the closest parking lot was far."

Bae suddenly interrupted Lily "Guys we're running out of time we need to decorate now!"

All of you started setting up the venue. You had to cut some corners as you didn't have time on your side anymore.

You got a text from Dahyun telling you that she arrived. Lily and Bae quickly went to hide and you tried to get yourself ready as you went to hide.

"Dahyun why is your friend here anyways."

"They had to help out someone set up for an event."

"I don't see them."

"Hold on I need to use the restroom Haewon. Try looking around for them."

Once Dahyun left the area you came out from hiding.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"Haewon I need to tell you something."

"What do you need to tell me?"

"I-I don't think our relationship will work out if we stay like this."

Haewon was shocked. She grabbed your hands while looking as if she was about to cry.

"What do you mean Y/N."

"Ever since we graduated from college I truly loved you. I love everything we've done together and honestly I've made memories I will never forget with you. But we can't keep going ... at least not like this."

Tears fell down Haewon's eyes. She was crushed fearing your next words.

"Y/N please don't leave me! I promise I can fix everything just name it."

"Haewon I can't let you be my girlfriend ... I want you to be my wife."

You got down on your knees pulling out the ring you bought.

"Will you be mine Haewon?"

Haewon looked at you. You couldn't make out her facial expressions. You held your breath waiting for her answer.

"Y/N fuck you! Don't ever scare me like that again! Of course I'll be your wife Y/N."

Haewon took the ring and put it on. You breathed a huge sigh of relief and pulled her into a hug. Lily, Bae, and Dahyun came up to you guys and congratulated you.

"Come on Haewon let's go eat." You said while holding your fiance's hand.

Wedding Day

You were waiting for Haewon to walk down the aisle. You were ready to spend the rest of your life with Haewon. Sharing all of your worst and best moments and being there for each other even in illness you were ready to tackle anything as long as you had Haewon by your side.

And then you saw her. She was perfect, you couldn't take your eyes off Haewon. It was as if time slowed down.

Everything was going perfectly. You two exchanged vows and then the magic words were said.

"You may now kiss the bride."

You pulled Haewon in for a deep kiss. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and her.

"Y/N I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Me to Haewon."

That night you partied hard. Hanging out with the people who meant the most to you.

Haewon threw the bouquet and Bae ended up being the one to catch it. Everyone cheered for her and you jokingly asked her.

"Are you finally going to ask out Sullyoon?"

Bae blushed and lightly pushed you.

"Yah not so loud Y/N."

Eventually the party came to a close and everyone went home. When you got home with Haewon you carried her to bed.

You laid her down gently and kissed her forehead. Haewon was getting sleepy so you started to change her into her pajamas. Once you got Haewon changed you started to take off your clothes so you could change but suddenly you heard Haewon get up.

"How about I give you a special present Y/N as a celebration to us?"

Knowing where this was going you nodded your head and took off your remaining clothes. Haewon got on her knees and started to pump your cock.

"Haewon this is the best thing I could ask for."

She simply smiled and started to suck your tip. Haewon swirled her tongue on your tip covering it in her saliva.

Haewon bobbed her head. Her tongue sliding through your cock letting every inch feel it. Your cock started twitching and you were close to release.

You started to thrust in her mouth. You spread your cum in her mouth. So much cum came out it was leaking out of her mouth.

Haewon's face was stained with cum. And both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Now it's my turn to give you a special gift Haewon."

You picked up Haewon and laid her on the bed. You took of her pajamas and started to lick her pussy and rub her clit.

Haewon moaned loving the feeling you gave her. You licked her pussy and enjoyed how her fluids tasted. You truly never could have enough. You ate Haewon out.

Shoving your tongue deep into her pussy Haewon screamed and squirted all over you. You drank every last drop.

You both laid naked next to each other in bed and shared another kiss.

"I love you Haewon."

"I love you to Y/N"

You both drifted to sleep holding each other, ready to spend the rest of your lives together.

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

Finally finished this for all the people requesting longer smuts.

I wanted to make this longer but I felt like people would loose interest if I made it too long.

Anyways if you actually sat through all of this thank you.

[shesgaymichaelscott]

hiii can i request melissa and fem reader where melissa is still with (literally can't remember any of her boring ass guys names lmao) but somehow their eyes meet and they feel like time stops 🤭 but they get pulled apart before they can introduce themselves and then reader ends up working at abbott and they're pining eeeeee then they become friends and the tension and chemistry is crazy and melissa ends up leaving loser guy bc she realizes she's falling in love with reader :)))

(if you're feeling like writing smut then maybe mel realizes she's never really had great sex before bc of the losers she's been with until reader blows her mind 🙂‍↕️)

Look at Me Again

(sooo much mutual pining it kills me!!, love at first sight, eventual smut🤭)

Word Count: 7.6k

taglist <3: @writerspirit @schemmentigfs @myownworriedshoes

~

Gary was easy.

That was the honest truth of it, and Melissa Schemmenti had long since made peace with honest truths.

He was easy like vending machine candy when you skipped lunch. Like watching reruns of Law & Order instead of dealing with the mess in the sink. Reliable. Predictable. Someone to warm the other side of the bed without asking much of her soul.

And after everything—her ex-husband, the chaos of her family, the emotional highwire act that came with being needed by everyone in her orbit—Melissa had thought maybe easy was enough.

He was fine. He was sweet. She didn't hate that he knew how she took her coffee or that he gave her space when she wanted it. She didn't mind that he thought her chaotic, oversized family dinners were "endearingly intense," even if he spent most of them blinking in terror.

But deep down, somewhere in that slow-burning place inside her that used to wake for things like poetry and lust and the way someone's voice could curl around your name and make it mean something—Melissa knew she wasn't lit up.

Not really.

She hadn't been lit up in a long time.

"It's one drink, Melissa," Jacob insisted, arms flapping like he was coaching a Broadway cast. "You are allowed to enjoy yourself."

"We're celebrating the grant funding," Janine chimed in, bumping Melissa's shoulder affectionately. "Come on. Just one night out with your work family. Please?"

Barbara raised a brow but sipped her tea calmly. "Consider it a wellness initiative."

"And I'm buyin' first round," Ava added, flourishing her phone like a magic wand. "Because I finessed a corporate sponsorship from this kombucha company that thinks I'm an influencer. They don't need to know the drinks are vodka."

Gregory looked up from his quiet corner, one brow raised in amusement. "What she means is, we'd all like to hang out. With you. So stop trying to ghost."

Melissa sighed dramatically. "You're all like moths in my damn ears."

"Flattering," said Jacob, already pulling his coat on. "Let's go, hot teacher girl."

Melissa rolled her eyes but let herself be pulled along, her coat slung over one arm. She texted Gary a simple 'Going out with the staff. Be home late. Don't wait up' and didn't wait for a reply.

Ruby's was crowded in that warm, familiar way—half dive bar, half community hub. The air buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low pulse of music no one really danced to but everyone bobbed their heads with.

Melissa took her usual seat near the corner of the bar, where the light hit just right to keep her visible without inviting too much conversation. She was nursing her whiskey when it happened.

The moment.

That moment.

A figure stepped through the door like they didn't even know they were about to ruin her life.

You weren't dramatic. You weren't posing. You weren't the kind of woman who asked to be seen—but Melissa saw you anyway.

It was something about the way you moved, sure. That slow, self-assured grace. But more than that, it was your eyes. The second they lifted—just casually, just for a flicker—and met hers across the room, Melissa forgot what air was.

Time slowed.

She didn't believe in that kind of crap, normally. Fate. Lightning strikes. Love at first sight. But this—this felt like a ripple in the universe. Like someone had pulled a thread too tightly and it snapped, right between her ribs.

You looked at her like you knew something. Like you recognized her.

And Melissa, for once in her very stubborn, rooted life, didn't look away.

Not until Ava spilled someone's tequila sunrise directly onto Barbara's lap and chaos erupted.

In the shuffle—Gregory trying to help, Janine fussing, Barbara elegantly swearing under her breath—Melissa's eyes darted back to where you had been.

Gone.

Just like that.

She didn't get your name. Didn't know if you really noticed her back or felt that same pull. And yet, the moment lodged itself deep in her, something to carry home like a splinter under the skin.

That night, in bed next to Gary, Melissa stared at the ceiling. She let him rest his hand on her hip, let him mumble something about work tomorrow, let herself pretend that nothing had happened.

But her heart beat just a little faster.

Because something had.

She didn't know it yet, but she'd just met the woman who would ruin her life in the best possible way.

And she was going to see her again.

Soon.

—

Your first day at Abbott Elementary began the same way your morning runs usually ended—sweaty, breathless, and mildly terrified of what you'd just signed up for.

You smoothed your hand down the front of your blazer as you stood in front of the school's side entrance, taking a deep breath. The sign out front was crooked. There was a paper bat taped to the front door that said Don't test me, I bite. And someone was already yelling about a laminator inside.

God help you, you liked it already.

You were the first guidance counselor Abbott had ever had—budget expansions, new district initiatives, blah blah blah. What it really meant was that no one knew what the hell you were supposed to be doing yet.

And that meant freedom. Reinvention. Possibility.

It also meant pressure.

"Deep breath," you muttered to yourself. "You've got this."

Inside, the front office was mid-chaos. Phones ringing. A kid doing the worm down the hallway. A woman with sleek black hair encouraging him to find a better rhythm.

"Principal Ava Coleman," she announced, like it was a name you should already know. "Style icon. Visionary. Professional life coach—unofficially. You must be my new project."

Your eyebrows rose. "Guidance counselor, actually."

"Same thing," she said, waving it off. "You'll be in charge of vibes and emotional crises. Like me, but with paperwork. Come on, I'll give you the world's most chaotic tour."

And chaotic it was.

She breezed you through classrooms and corners of the building that barely passed for code-compliant, introducing you to teachers in rapid-fire bursts:

Barbara Howard, regal and composed, whose handshake felt like a benediction. Jacob Hill, who immediately launched into an unsolicited monologue about restorative justice and the time he cried during Encanto. Gregory Eddie, quiet, observant, and lowkey hot in a flannel-wearing-sad-boy kind of way. Janine Teagues, who practically vibrated with friendliness and already asked if you needed help decorating your office.

They were all warm. A little strange. Deeply loyal to each other in a way you could feel like heat off a sidewalk.

You liked them. That terrified you a little.

"Almost done," Ava chirped, leading you down the hallway toward a door labeled 'Staff Lounge' with a sticker of a possum and the words Emotional Dumping Ground. "Just gotta introduce you to our last teacher. Redhead. Probably yelling about the Philly parking authority or spaghetti right now. She's like if the mob adopted a kitten."

You laughed, nerves easing.

The second the door opened, you heard her voice before you saw her:

"—and then the guy tells me I can't park there 'cause of street cleaning? In October? I said to him, buddy, I've been street cleaning since I came outta the womb, and if you think I'm moving my car in heels, you've got—"

She turned as Ava pushed the door open wider.

And stopped.

Mid-sentence. Mid-gesture. One hand in the air like punctuation that never arrived.

Your eyes met.

And there it was again.

The spark.

No—not a spark. A match dropped in gasoline. That moment from the bar, crystal-clear. Like it had been waiting in both of you, smoldering in the background of your lives until now.

Melissa's breath caught audibly. Her green eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she masked it—fast, sharp, the way you knew a woman who'd learned to protect herself did.

You swallowed.

"Hi," you said, voice just barely steady. "I think we've... sort of met."

Silence, thick enough to spread on toast.

Janine blinked between you two. "Wait... did you guys go to Temple together or something?"

"No," Melissa said, eyes still locked on you. "Ruby's."

Ava's mouth dropped open. "Ohhhhhh. This is the bar girl."

You flushed.

Melissa stood a little straighter, voice gruff but softer now, "Melissa Schemmenti. Second grade."

You told her your name.

She repeated it like it tasted good in her mouth.

"Guidance counselor," Ava added helpfully. "Here full-time. Permanent. Not leaving."

You swore Melissa's throat moved when she swallowed.

You stuck out your hand, because professionalism mattered, even when your heart was trying to beat its way through your sternum.

She shook it. Firm. Warm. A little too long.

God help you both.

By the end of your first week at Abbott, two things were abundantly clear:

Melissa Schemmenti avoided you like it was a competitive sport. And you liked her anyway.

She was polite. Respectful. Occasionally gruff in that Philly way you were starting to realize meant affection—but she never lingered. If you came into the lounge, she left. If you stayed late working on a bulletin board for mental health awareness, she mumbled something about paperwork and disappeared into her classroom.

She was like a cat—always around, never close, watching from the edge of the room with those sharp green eyes.

And you? You had it bad.

You noticed the way she always held the door open without being asked. How she joked with Barbara in the mornings and somehow always had spare Tylenol in her drawer like she was prepping for the end times. The way she lit up around her kids, especially the ones with fire in their bellies and chaos in their notebooks. You watched her soothe, defend, fight for them like they were hers.

So yeah. You had it bad.

And you'd barely spoken since the bar.

Barbara, of course, noticed it first.

It started with a glance. Then a pause. Then a sideways look during a particularly chaotic Thursday lunch when Melissa spent more time staring into her soup than eating it.

Barbara leaned over, calm and motherly. "You've hardly touched your lunch, Melissa."

"I'm just thinkin'."

"About the new guidance counselor?"

Melissa dropped her spoon. "Excuse me?"

Barbara didn't flinch. "You've been distracted. Quiet. You've left the staff lounge three times this week to make calls that never seem to last more than two minutes. Either you're dodging bill collectors or there's a woman involved."

Melissa scowled. "I'm not dodging bill collectors."

Barbara waited.

Melissa sighed. "She's... fine."

"Mhm."

"She's good with the kids. I mean, really good. That fifth grader who wouldn't talk to anyone last year? Already asked if she could have lunch in her office next week. She—" She stopped herself. "She's good."

Barbara looked over at where you were kneeling in the hallway with a kindergartener who had drawn an entire comic book about a squirrel detective. You were animated, laughing, gently guiding the kid's enthusiasm into confidence.

"You mean she's charming," Barbara said, sipping her tea. "And possibly everything you've always said you don't have time for."

Melissa didn't answer.

Because you were. You were earnest and steady in a way that sneaked under her skin. You asked questions no one thought to ask, remembered people's birthdays, brought in tissues with lotion during flu season without being asked. And worse—you saw her.

Every time your eyes met, she felt it again. That Ruby's lightning. The moment that never left her.

She tried to ignore it. She had Gary. Gary, who brought her her favorite pretzels and laughed at her jokes and didn't make her feel like the ground was shifting under her.

But you...

You made her nervous.

She hadn't felt nervous in years.

The thing about nervous energy, though? It builds. It simmers.

It boiled over two weeks later.

It was raining. The kind of cold, sideways rain that made the whole school smell like wet sneakers and permanent marker.

Melissa was standing outside her classroom, arguing with a parent on the phone, when she heard laughter. Real laughter. Coming from the guidance office.

She glanced over. The door was open.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor with two sixth graders between you, showing them how to fold little origami foxes.

Melissa meant to walk away. She really did.

But then one of the girls held hers up and whispered something to you, and you giggled—head thrown back, warm and delighted like you hadn't learned to be cautious with your joy yet.

And Melissa? She couldn't breathe.

She was soaked. Cold. Her nerves were fried from the parent she just had to talk off the ledge. And still, all she could think was:

God help me, she's beautiful.

You looked up and caught her staring.

For a split second, neither of you moved.

Then you smiled. Soft. Shy. Like you knew what she was thinking.

"Want to make one?" you called, voice easy.

Melissa blinked.

And for once in her life—she said yes.

The sixth graders left in a flurry of thanks and half-folded paper animals, their voices trailing off down the hall like echoing laughter. You leaned back against the edge of your desk, exhaling with a smile still lingering on your lips.

"They're sweet," Melissa said, watching the door even after it shut. She still hadn't sat down. She looked out of place here—too much leather and steel inside your cozy, pastel-colored office.

But she hadn't left.

"They really are," you said. "They don't trust easily, but when they do..." You gestured to the pile of foxes. "They give you their whole world."

Melissa's eyes flicked to the desk, where one of the kids had drawn a tiny crown on her paper fox and named it Queenie. You caught the smirk tugging at her mouth and grinned.

"You really wanna make one?" you asked again, gentler this time.

She hesitated.

You held out a square of orange paper. "It's therapeutic. Or infuriating. Depending on your tolerance for tiny folds."

She gave you a look. "You're really sellin' it."

But she took the paper.

She sat beside you. Close enough that her coat brushed your sleeve. Her hands were calloused, strong—meant for chalk and defending small children, not delicate creases. You placed your fingers over hers without thinking, guiding her through the first step.

Her breath hitched. You felt it more than heard it.

"Like this," you said softly, nudging her thumbs inward.

"I'm not great with this kinda thing," she muttered.

"You wrangle second graders like it's nothing. You can handle some fancy paper."

She laughed—quiet, real—and your heart pulled tight.

For the next few minutes, you folded side by side. The air between you was thick, but easy. You worked in tandem, shoulders occasionally bumping, fingers brushing.

"You're good at this," she said finally, holding up her slightly lopsided fox like it was a trophy.

"I'm good at calming anxious minds," you said. "Origami just happens to be part of the toolkit."

She looked over at you. "Is that what you think I am? An anxious mind?"

You smiled. "No. I think you're someone who never lets anyone see when you are."

That stopped her.

You didn't flinch, though your own heart was hammering.

Melissa looked down at her fox, turning it over like it might offer her an answer.

And then—almost too quickly—she stood up.

"I, uh..." she cleared her throat. "I should get back. I've got papers to grade, and Gary's pickin' up dinner tonight—"

The name dropped like a stone.

You blinked. "Oh. Of course. You're... with someone."

"Yeah," she said. Too fast. "I am."

You nodded, trying not to let the sudden heat in your chest show on your face. "Of course. Sorry if that—this—was..."

"No," Melissa cut in, voice low. "It wasn't. It's not. I just—"

She didn't finish.

You looked down at your fox. The silence stretched.

Then you offered her a smile. Small. Safe. "We could be friends."

Melissa froze.

"Unless that's... weird," you added quickly. "I don't want to step on anything. Or anyone."

"No." Her voice was rough, like it scraped on something inside her. "It's not weird."

You nodded. "Friends, then."

She reached for the door but paused, hand hovering over the handle.

When she looked back, something in her face had cracked open just a little. Vulnerable. Searching.

"I don't know what this is," she admitted. "But it's... not nothin'."

You met her gaze.

"No," you agreed. "It's not nothing."

She left without another word.

And for the first time since Ruby's, you felt like the floor beneath your feet was shifting.

Melissa didn't notice how cold she'd gotten with Gary until Jacob noticed for her.

It was a Tuesday—rainy, again—and Gary had shown up mid-morning to restock the vending machines like he always did. Usually, Melissa had something snarky to say. A flirty dig. A hand on his arm. Some tiny gesture of ease.

Today? She barely looked up from her crossword.

"You want anything while I'm at Wawa later?" Gary asked from the break room doorway, shaking his keys.

"No," she said, too quickly. Then, realizing it, added, "I'm good, thanks."

Gary lingered, visibly waiting for something—anything.

Melissa didn't offer it.

She kept her pen moving, focused too hard on trying to find a six-letter word for regret. Her jaw was tight. Her heart tighter.

Gary finally left.

Jacob, sitting on the couch with a yogurt and an Us Weekly, peeked over his container with a look that was way too perceptive for Melissa's comfort.

"Everything okay in heteroville?"

Melissa glanced at him. "Excuse me?"

"You didn't even smirk. Usually, I get at least one 'that man's lucky I put up with him' for the road."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm tired."

"Mmm," Jacob hummed. "Sure it's not, oh, I don't know—internal emotional collapse brought on by gay panic and long-suppressed yearning?"

Melissa snapped her head up. "Jacob."

He held up his hands innocently. "I'm just saying. You've been moodier than a Scorpio on decaf ever since a certain charming guidance counselor showed up looking like a Pinterest board and handing out kindness like candy."

"I'm not—"

But she didn't get to finish.

Because that's exactly when you walked into the staff lounge.

With Janine.

And smiling.

That smile that did something to Melissa's spine.

"Hey, everyone," Janine chirped, brushing water off her sleeves. "It is pouring out there. You'd think this school was cursed with endless emotional metaphors!"

You laughed beside her, cheeks pink from the cold. "Hi, Melissa."

Melissa looked up.

God, you were so warm. It was annoying. That quiet kind of kindness that didn't ask for attention, that didn't need to flirt to make people gravitate toward you.

And worse?

You smiled at Gary.

He'd come back in to grab the dolly cart and was fiddling with the side panel of the vending machine. When you greeted him—sweetly, with no edge, no jealousy—it knocked the wind out of Melissa.

"You're the one who stocks the sour straws, right?" you asked, soft and playful.

Gary chuckled. "Guilty as charged."

"They've saved me like three times this week. I owe you."

He lit up.

And Melissa felt something tighten in her chest.

You weren't flirting. You were just nice. But Gary was basking in it like a goddamn sunflower, and Janine was chatting with him too, and Jacob was watching her like she was on an episode of The Bachelor: Internal Crisis Edition.

Melissa stood.

"Need air," she muttered.

"Melissa, it's pouring," Janine called after her.

"Better than choking," Melissa snapped before the door shut behind her.

Jacob whistled low. "And that concludes our preview of emotional implosion season."

Janine blinked. "Is she... okay?"

You frowned. "Should I—?"

Jacob gently touched your arm. "No. Just... give her a minute."

You looked toward the door Melissa had disappeared through, the sour straw wrapper still in your pocket from earlier when you almost brought her one, and whispered, "Okay."

But your chest ached anyway.

—

You were sitting in bed, half-asleep, the soft hum of a lo-fi playlist keeping you company while your laptop blinked with half-finished notes for a student grief workshop. Your phone buzzed beside you.

Melissa: Got your number from Jacob. Hope that's not weird.

You sat up straighter immediately, your stomach doing something unsettling.

You: Not weird at all. Hey, Schemmenti.

There was a pause. You could practically feel her debating whether to continue.

Melissa: Didn't mean to be a jerk earlier. In the lounge. Was just... rainy. Bad mood.

You: You weren't a jerk. You're allowed moods. You're human. Allegedly.

Melissa: Allegedly. Don't go spreadin' rumors. (...thanks.)

A beat.

Melissa: Didn't know you liked sour straws. I'll keep that in mind.

You: Didn't know you texted after 10pm. I'll keep that in mind.

She didn't reply right away.

But the next night?

She texted again.

It became a thing. A quiet, sacred thing.

Late-night messages about the kids. About ridiculous school meetings. About old movies and music and what you'd order at a diner at 2am. About everything except what was really happening between you.

Melissa: They're makin' us do a trust fall at the staff PD day. If I die, avenge me.

You: Deal. I'll give you a Viking funeral in the parking lot with office supplies.

Melissa: Romantic.

You: Only for you.

She never responded to those texts. Not the flirty ones. But she never ended the conversation either.

At school, it was worse. Or better. Depending on how you looked at it.

Melissa would pass by your office and flick the lights off just to hear you squeal and threaten revenge. You started slipping notes into her mailbox—"Drink water. Don't stab anyone before lunch." She'd toss you a piece of gum with a smirk in the lounge. You'd put her favorite pens in her mail slot like it wasn't obvious you'd noticed.

Your friendship was banter. Heat just beneath the surface. Almosts and what-ifs.

And the rest of the staff? They absolutely noticed.

It was Barbara who made the first move after weeks of the back-and-forth.

She found Melissa in the quiet calm of her classroom during lunch one day, organizing flashcards with a kind of surgical precision that screamed avoidance.

"Melissa," she said gently, sitting down beside her without asking.

Melissa didn't look up. "If this is about me not eating again, I swear I'm gonna—"

"It's not," Barbara said. "It's about her."

Melissa froze.

"I see how you look at her," Barbara continued, voice soft but steady. "I see how you don't look at Gary anymore."

Melissa sat down. Slowly. Like the weight of it all was finally catching up.

Barbara reached out, resting a hand over hers.

"You deserve more than just comfort. You deserve someone who makes you feel alive."

Melissa's throat worked around a tight swallow. "It's not that simple."

Barbara's smile was full of quiet wisdom. "It never is. But what do you want, Melissa?"

And that was the thing, wasn't it?

She didn't know how to say it.

But every time she opened her phone at night and your name was there waiting?

She knew.

Meanwhile, Janine had cornered you in the copy room.

Literally.

"Okay," she said, arms crossed, "you're gonna tell me right now whether you're in love with Melissa or if that's just your face all the time."

You nearly dropped your coffee. "Janine—"

"Uh-uh," she said, holding up a finger. "I've seen the glances. The smiles. The lingering hand touches. This is a rom-com and we're in act two."

You tried to laugh it off, but your ears were already red.

"I don't know what it is," you admitted. "But it's... something. And I think I might be in trouble."

Janine softened. "She's scared. You know that, right?"

You nodded. "I just don't want to push. She's with someone. And I like her too much to mess her up."

Janine tilted her head. "But what if she's already messed up without you? What then?"

You didn't have an answer.

—

The library smelled like cheap coffee, dry Expo markers, and repressed rage.

It was Development Day at Abbott Elementary—aka the one day a year where time lost meaning and even Barbara, poised as ever, looked like she wanted to throw someone through a window.

Ava, naturally, was leading the session.

"Alright," she called, spinning a whiteboard marker like a dagger. "Let's all pretend to care for the next hour so the district doesn't smite us."

Melissa muttered something under her breath that sounded like, "I'd rather be audited," as she sank into the seat beside you.

She hadn't said much since that late-night text where she'd asked if you'd ever seen Moonstruck, and you'd replied, Yeah. You remind me of Cher. If Cher were meaner and hotter.

She'd ghosted for a full six hours after that one.

Now, seated next to her, your knees brushed.

She didn't move away.

Across the table, Jacob was trying to organize color-coded notepads. Janine shot you a look. Gregory looked like he'd spiritually vacated the room twenty minutes ago.

Ava pointed at the two of you with her marker. "You two. The star-crossed lovers. You're in charge of the wellness initiative next week. Don't make it weird."

You blinked. "What?"

Melissa coughed. "What?"

Janine blinked at Ava. "Wait, why them?"

Ava waved her off. "Please. The slow burn tension? The nightly texting I know is happening? The hallway glances? I might not care about children, but I do care about unresolved sexual energy."

You tried not to choke on air. Melissa shifted beside you like she was deciding whether to leap through a window or tackle Ava to the ground.

Jacob cleared his throat, eyes wide with delight. "Um, excuse me, but I would like to officially second the 'star-crossed' comment. We're talking Persian poetry levels of longing over here."

"I hate all of you," Melissa grumbled, voice tight.

"I think it's sweet," Barbara added mildly, sipping her tea. "Though a bit tragic."

Your face burned.

"Alright," Ava continued, tapping the whiteboard. "You're in charge of 'mental health awareness and emotional team bonding,' which sounds fake but is technically required. Go bond or whatever."

The room dissolved into side chatter.

You stayed quiet. So did Melissa.

Until, finally—so softly you almost missed it—

"I'm not with Gary anymore."

You turned to her, pulse suddenly in your throat. "What?"

She didn't look at you. Her eyes were fixed on the dent in the conference table. "Few days ago. I ended it."

You blinked. "Oh."

Melissa breathed in slow. "He's a good guy. But it wasn't enough. And I think maybe... I didn't want it to be."

Your heart was pounding now.

"Melissa—"

"I'm not saying anything else," she cut in. "Not yet. But I thought you should know."

You stared at her profile. The way her jaw was clenched like it cost her something to be this honest. The way her hand was gripping the folder in her lap like it might steady her.

"Okay," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for telling me."

A pause.

Ava glanced back over from the whiteboard, her smirk feral.

"Told you," she muttered to Jacob.

The staff meeting broke up in a blur of chairs scraping and voices buzzing, but Melissa didn't move. You didn't either.

She'd just told you—finally—that she ended it.

You didn't say anything more. You just looked at her. And she felt it.

Later that afternoon, you found yourselves shoved into the smallest workroom on the second floor to "brainstorm logistics" for the upcoming student wellness initiative. Ava had waved a stapler vaguely at you and said something about "zen zones or hugs or whatever" before disappearing with a tray of cookies and no actual leadership.

Melissa was already there when you walked in, arms crossed, hip against the low counter.

You dropped your bag by the file cabinet, closed the door behind you, and smiled slow.

"So," you said. "Do you want the kids to do mindfulness jars or emotionally repressed rage-scribble journals?"

Melissa snorted. "Do I look like a mindfulness jar kinda woman?"

You stepped closer, deliberately. "No," you said. "You look like the kind of woman who would throw glitter at someone on purpose and then claim it was therapy."

She held your gaze. "Not glitter. That stuff's a plague."

You leaned in just slightly, lips twitching. "I'll bring confetti, then. For when you inevitably lose your mind planning this with me."

She didn't answer right away. Just stared. Like she was waiting for you to say something you hadn't yet.

So you did.

"Melissa," you said, voice low, "just to be clear—I'm going to flirt with you now."

She blinked. "What?"

You smiled. "Don't worry. It'll be subtle. Maybe a little dangerous. But technically, it still counts as workplace appropriate."

You took a step closer, barely brushing past her as you reached for a pack of sticky notes.

"I was thinking we could do compliment cards," you murmured, your shoulder grazing hers. "The kids write kind things to each other anonymously. Like: 'You're brave,' or 'You helped me today.'"

You met her eyes. "Or maybe: 'You looked so good today, I forgot how to spell my name.'"

Melissa stared at you like you'd knocked the wind out of her.

But she didn't move away.

"Subtle, huh?" she rasped.

You tilted your head. "You haven't told me to stop."

Her voice was soft. "I know."

The silence stretched, thick and charged. You brushed a speck of lint from her sleeve. Let your fingers linger.

"We could also do affirmation mirrors," you offered, like your fingertips weren't sparking on her arm. "Let the kids look at themselves and say kind things. You could demo it. 'I'm a badass who looks criminally good in red.'"

Melissa let out a low sound that might've been a laugh—or a warning.

"You're not making this easy," she muttered.

"I'm not trying to."

That undid her just a little. Her hand braced on the counter behind her like she needed it to keep her upright.

"You drive me nuts," she murmured. "You know that?"

You leaned in, lips nearly brushing the shell of her ear.

"I hope so."

She let out a shaky exhale.

Then someone rattled the doorknob, and the moment shattered like a wineglass under pressure.

It was Jacob, of course.

"You two almost done plotting your wellness cult?" he chirped. "Ava wants to know if there's going to be a sign-up sheet for drama therapy, and also I need to pee."

Melissa jumped back half a foot. You bit your lip, fighting a smile as you opened the door.

Jacob looked between the two of you. His eyes narrowed.

"Was the air always this thick in here?" he asked.

"Yes," you said sweetly, brushing past him.

Melissa still hadn't moved.

—

It was just after 5 p.m the next day. The halls of Abbott had gone quiet—kids long gone, most of the teachers too, save for the die-hards still grading papers or stress-eating in their rooms. You were curled on the floor of your office, poster supplies strewn around you, taping down borders for the "Self-Love Station" banner when you heard it—

A knock.

You looked up, and there she was.

Melissa.

Still in her boots and leather jacket, still somehow rumpled and perfect, still looking like the decision she hadn't made yet was clawing its way out of her skin.

"I have an idea," she said. Voice scratchy, low. "For the event."

You raised a brow. "You're on fire this week, Schemmenti."

She gave a tight half-smile. "Yeah, well. I've been... thinkin'. Too much."

You pushed aside some markers. "Come in."

She did.

And sat closer than she had to. Cross-legged across from you, elbows on her knees like she might spring up at any second if she dared to relax.

"What's the idea?" you asked.

But she didn't answer right away. Just stared at you like she was looking for something.

Your voice softened. "Melissa."

Her eyes met yours.

"Where's the line?" you asked, barely above a whisper. "Because I've been dancing right on it. And you haven't stopped me."

Her breath stuttered. Her fingers curled into her palms.

"There isn't a line anymore," she said. "Not with you."

The silence buzzed between you, electric.

You reached for her hand, slow and careful. She let you take it.

And when she leaned in—tentative, trembling—you leaned too.

Your noses nearly brushed. Her breath fanned across your lips, ragged and wanting. Her forehead tilted to yours like instinct.

You were right there.

And then—

Her phone rang.

Loud. Abrasive. Sharp as a slap.

She jerked back like she'd been burned, swearing softly under her breath. You scrambled to give her space, heart racing.

"Sorry," she muttered, checking the screen. "It's my sister. She'll call five more times if I don't pick up."

You nodded, trying to breathe evenly. "Of course. Go ahead."

Melissa stepped out, phone pressed to her ear, her other hand still half-curled like it remembered holding yours.

She didn't come back.

You stayed in your office another twenty minutes, just... sitting. Fingers ghosting your own lips. You had been right there.

That night, the texts came earlier than usual.

Melissa: I'm sorry.

You: For what?

Melissa: You know what. I wanted to. God, I wanted to.

You: Me too. Still do.

Melissa: You drive me insane. You always smell like vanilla and soap and something dangerous. It's not fair.

You: You could've kissed me. I wouldn't have stopped you.

Melissa: Don't say that. I'll lose my mind.

You: Already there, Schemmenti. Join me.

A pause.

Melissa: You're not helping. I'm in bed trying to behave.

You: Tell me how that's going.

Melissa: I'm thinking about your mouth.

You: Yeah?

Melissa: Yeah. The way you talk. The way you look at me. The way you didn't pull away.

You: Next time the phone won't stop us.

Melissa: Don't tease me.

You: Not teasing. Unless you want me to.

There was a long pause.

Then—

Melissa: Jesus. I haven't wanted someone like this in... I don't think I ever have.

You: Then don't hold back next time.

Melissa: I'm trying. But I want you so bad it hurts.

The next few days at Abbott were a masterclass in barely holding it together.

Melissa was different now. Not in a dramatic way—no declarations or dramatic sighs or broken coffee mugs. But in the way she looked at you. Longer. Hungrier. Like she couldn't stop. Like she didn't want to.

You'd catch her staring when you weren't speaking, when your back was turned, when you were laughing too hard with one of your students. She'd pretend she wasn't. You'd pretend not to notice.

And the touches? They lingered.

A hand on your back as you brushed past in the hallway. Fingertips grazing your wrist when she passed you a folder. A knuckle brushing your knee under the staff lounge table—once, just once, but it had you both holding your breath.

Jacob and Janine were, unfortunately, feral about it.

They cornered you between the copier and the extra laminating pouches like they were on a mission from God.

"Okay," Janine hissed, "are you in love yet or are we still playing chicken with our emotions?"

Jacob flailed a folder. "I saw her blush today. Melissa Schemmenti. Blushed. Over you. She nearly spilled her coffee!"

"I think she bit her lip in the break room," Janine added, eyes wide. "Bit. Her. Lip."

"She lingered at your door for ten whole seconds," Jacob whisper-screamed.

"I think my uterus ovulated from the tension alone," Janine whispered dramatically.

You groaned. "Okay, stop. Both of you. I know. I know. But I'm not pushing her. This has to be her decision."

Jacob softened. "You're really into her."

You nodded. "Completely."

Janine squealed into her elbow.

That night, it was storming.

Soft thunder. Dim bedside lighting. Your phone buzzed in your palm.

You'd been staring at Melissa's contact for ten minutes already when her name finally popped up.

Melissa: Are you home?

You: Yeah. Cozy. Rainy. You?

Melissa: I can't stop thinking about you. I haven't been able to focus all day. You're in my head.

Your stomach flipped. Hard.

You: Same.

There was a pause.

And then—

Melissa: Can you come over?

You blinked.

You: Right now?

Melissa: Yeah. Please.

You: Send me the address.

The typing bubbles came fast.

She sent it.

Melissa: I don't know what this is gonna be. But I need to see you.

You sat there for half a second, heart in your throat, adrenaline humming in your fingertips.

Then you got up. Grabbed your keys. And left.

The drive to Melissa's house felt like moving through a dream. Rain smudged the windshield, city lights blurred behind your headlights, and your heart was pounding so loud it felt like it was in your throat.

You barely remembered parking.

Barely remembered walking up to the door, soaked hood down, every nerve in your body coiled like a live wire.

The door opened.

Melissa stood there barefoot in leggings and an oversized Eagles sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. Her hair was messy, damp at the ends like she'd been pacing or—God—showering, and her eyes?

Her eyes burned.

You didn't say anything. Neither did she.

You stepped inside.

She shut the door behind you without a word, locking it with a soft click. The silence was loaded.

"Hi," you breathed, voice hoarse.

Melissa took a step closer. "You came."

"You asked."

"I wasn't sure you would."

"I wasn't sure I could not."

Her hands reached for your face like instinct, like gravity, fingers threading into your hair as her lips crashed into yours with a sound so relieved it made your knees buckle.

You kissed her back hard, hungry, like you'd been waiting your whole life to get to this moment and now you were done waiting.

Melissa groaned into your mouth, tugging you closer by the waist until your bodies were flush, her hands hot and desperate on your back.

You gasped between kisses, and she chased the sound—her lips catching your jaw, your throat, the edge of your mouth like she couldn't bear to stop tasting you.

"Tell me to stop," she rasped against your skin. "Tell me to slow down."

You shook your head, breathless. "I don't want you to."

That was all it took.

Melissa's hands slid under your shirt, greedy, reverent. Yours pulled the sweatshirt over her head in one slow motion that left her half-naked and heaving in front of you.

"Jesus," you whispered, drinking her in, her breasts practically begging to be freed from her bra. 

She surged forward, kissing you again, slower this time. Deeper. Her body was pressed against yours like she wanted to memorize every inch of contact.

You guided her backward, gently, until the backs of her knees hit the couch. She sank into it, pulling you with her.

You were still in your bra, jeans undone, breath catching as she hooked her fingers in the waistband and tugged—rough, urgent—until you helped her, until denim hit the floor and you were straddling her in nothing but soaked cotton.

Melissa's eyes dragged over your body like she was starving, and maybe she was. Starving for something real, for the heat she'd been denying, for you.

"Come here," she breathed, voice ragged.

The kiss deepened—hotter now, wetter, messier. All teeth and tongue and low, needy sounds pulled from places neither of you had touched in far too long.

You ground down against her with a soft moan, and Melissa swore, the sound guttural.

"Jesus Christ—"

Her hands flew to your ass, gripping hard, dragging you even closer like she couldn't stand the space that still existed between your bodies. Your clothed core slid against the smooth skin of her thigh, and you gasped into her mouth. Her breath hitched—then turned feral.

"Fuck, you're so wet," she groaned. "Is that for me?"

"All for you," you whimpered. "Only you."

Her mouth found your collarbone, then lower. You arched into her as her tongue flicked over the swell of your breast, then circled your nipple until you were gasping, clutching at her hair as your hips moved against her with a mind of their own. 

You didn't even realize she'd unhooked her bra until you felt bare skin on bare skin.

You hissed at the contact, your nipples brushing hers as your hips moved in tandem, your bodies finding a rhythm that was messy and desperate and so fucking good.

"Look at me," Melissa rasped, her voice low and wrecked.

You did. And what you saw there—God, it was everything. Years of pretending, of playing it safe, of folding herself into versions of love that never really fit. It was all there. And so was want.

All for you.

"I need you," she whispered. "Please. I need—"

You kissed her hard before she could finish, slipping your hand between her legs, under the waistband of her panties.

She was drenched.

Your fingers slid through her easily, and her head dropped back against the couch as she gasped, her hips bucking into your touch.

"Fuck, baby," she moaned. "Please don't stop—"

You didn't. You pressed two fingers into her, slow but deep, watching her unravel beneath you.

She was gripping your shoulders like you were the only solid thing in her world, her thighs trembling as you curled your fingers just right, your thumb circling her clit in tight, purposeful strokes.

"Let go for me," you whispered, lips brushing her ear. "I want to feel you fall apart."

With a guttural cry, Melissa came hard around your fingers, her whole body tensing and trembling as she clung to you, her breath hot against your neck.

Melissa was still shaking when she pulled you up against her, kissed you like she needed your mouth to breathe. She didn't say anything—just took your hand, laced your fingers together, and tugged you off the couch.

"Come here," she murmured.

You followed, heart still racing, every nerve still alive from the sound she'd made when she came—wrecked and soft and yours.

She led you upstairs. The hallway was dim, lit only by the occasional flicker of lightning through the windows, but she didn't need lights. She didn't need words. Her hand never left yours.

Her bedroom door clicked shut behind you.

And then she was kissing you again, deeper this time, less frantic and more reverent. Her fingers slid into the waistband of your panties, slow, deliberate, like she wanted to memorize the moment before they fell to the floor.

You didn't even make it to the bed before you dropped to your knees.

Melissa froze, her breath catching, one hand tangled in your hair.

"Wait—are you sure—?"

You kissed her inner thigh and looked up at her, voice low and reverent.

"I've never been more sure of anything."

You pressed another kiss higher. Then another.

She let out a sound that was half curse, half plea, and let you guide her to the bed. She lay back, legs falling open for you without hesitation. She was already so responsive, so raw and sensitive, every inch of her body humming like it remembered your touch and needed more.

And when you finally put your mouth on her?

She sobbed.

Not a cry. Not a scream. A full sob. Like you were giving her something she hadn't known she could even ask for.

You moaned into her, her taste addictive, your hands holding her thighs open as you licked and kissed her like you were worshipping her—because you were.

She gripped the sheets, her hips grinding up into your mouth, head thrown back against the pillows as she whispered your name over and over like it was the only thing tethering her to earth.

And you?

You were so gone.

So gone.

She was everything—her voice, her scent, her thighs trembling around your head. You were dripping, aching, and completely wrecked with how much you wanted her, how much you were giving yourself to her, how deep you were letting her inside you just by tasting her, claiming her, loving her like this.

And somewhere in that blur of pleasure, of tongues and moans and fingers digging into skin—

You came.

No hands. No touch. Just her. Just the sheer overwhelming intensity of it, of giving her everything, of finally being here.

You gasped her name into her skin as it happened, body shuddering against the sheets.

When you finally looked up, dazed and panting, Melissa was staring down at you like she'd just witnessed something holy.

She reached for you instantly.

"Come here," she whispered, voice thick. "Come back to me."

You climbed into her arms, collapsed into the curve of her body, still trembling.

She kissed your temple. Your jaw. The corner of your mouth.

"I've never..." she started, then stopped.

You lifted your head, eyes meeting hers.

"I've never had this," she said. "I didn't think I could. I didn't know I could feel like this."

You kissed her, slow and sweet.

"You do now."

Melissa pulled you closer—closer than close—until your body was flush against hers, hearts pounding in tandem. You could still taste her on your lips. Still feel the ghost of her against your tongue.

Her hand slid down your stomach like it belonged there, like she'd been aching to trace you.

You gasped, clutching at her shoulders, your legs parting instinctively as she pressed her fingers against you—warm, slow, deliberate.

Your head fell back as she kissed your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. Her mouth was hungry but reverent, open-mouthed kisses like she was marking you, like she wanted to memorize every sound you made.

And you made them. Soft cries. Whimpers. Her name over and over like it was the only word that meant anything.

Her fingers moved inside you with a confidence that didn't come from experience—it came from desire. She wasn't showing off. She wasn't rushing. 

She was listening. To your breath, your body, the tremble in your voice as you begged her not to stop.

"You're so fucking beautiful," she whispered, lips brushing the underside of your breast before sucking gently, leaving heat blooming across your chest. "You feel like you were made for me."

You whimpered, your thighs tightening around her wrist as her pace quickened just enough to push you over that dangerous edge again.

"I'm gonna—Melissa—"

"I've got you," she breathed. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel you."

With a cry that cracked through your ribs, you shattered in her arms—spine arching, nails digging into her skin, your whole body trembling against hers like every nerve had caught fire.

She held you through it, kissed you through it, never letting up until you were clinging to her, dazed and gasping, your body wrung out and boneless in her embrace.

The aftershocks hit you in waves, smaller quakes as she slowed her hand, finally easing you down from the high she'd given you.

Your forehead pressed to hers, both of you breathing like you'd run miles.

"Holy shit," you murmured, barely coherent.

Melissa laughed softly, a breathy, wrecked sound. "Yeah."

She pulled you close again, wrapping the blankets around your bodies, her thumb stroking your hip as the thunder rolled in the distance and your breaths began to sync again.

"I don't want this to be just tonight," she whispered into your hair. "I want more."

You tilted your head to meet her gaze, your smile tender and trembling.

"I want more too," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I always have."

Melissa's eyes softened in a way you'd never seen before, like something in her finally exhaled. She tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering on your cheek.

"You scare the shit outta me," she murmured, half-laughing, half-serious.

You smiled wider. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Her thumb stroked your lower lip. "Because this feels like something I could ruin just by wanting it too much."

You shook your head, leaning into her hand. "You won't ruin it. You can't."

Her brow furrowed, like she was still trying to believe that could be true. But you were here, in her bed, your legs tangled with hers and your heart cracked wide open, and she was still looking at you like you hung the stars.

You cupped her face, kissed her again—slower this time, deeper. The kind of kiss you gave someone when you wanted them in the morning, and the next morning, and all the ones after that.

She kissed you back like a promise.

Eventually, the storm outside eased, and inside the bedroom, so did the both of you. Her hand stayed on your back, warm and grounding, even as your bodies began to sink further under the covers, into something softer. Something safe.

You shifted slightly, pressed against her chest, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

"Stay?" she asked quietly, like she already knew the answer but needed to hear it.

You nodded. "I'm not going anywhere."

[sophenelisse]

⋆˙⟡ — plot ideas !!

hey y'all!! i'm back at it again — meaning i'm bored, it's a dreary autumn, and i'm finding myself retreating back to cutsey fantasylands in my mind 🥰 listed below are a few plot ideas i've had in my notesapp for a while — as always, send an ask or a private message if you'd be interested in any of these up !! happy writing !!

childhood sweethearts (on the rocks)

a plot where muse a and muse b have been friends since childhood — here and there, they would have a one night stand, but never really allowed themselves to progress into anything more than just friends. now, as adults who are figuring out the dating scene isn’t as easy as their parents made it seem, muse a and muse b are seeing each other more and more frequently. eventually, muse a starts seeing someone new, and has less and less time for muse b. i’m talking jealousy, tension!!! muse b realizing maybe they’ve had feelings for muse a the whole time, muse a having to make tough decisions — either continue dating this new person or hurt muse b!!! i liiiiive for drama pls

childhood sweethearts (with a twist)

okay but a plot where close childhood friends reunite — except muse a was in love with muse b growing up, and muse b became muse a’s best friend’s high school sweetheart. muse a concealed their feelings for muse b all throughout their friendship, in high school & college, although both muses definitely had feelings & felt sparks for one another long before muse b started dating muse a’s best friend. despite the connection they’d felt, neither wanted to jeopardize any of the friendships between the three, and ultimately, muse b ended up married to muse a’s bff… except now, years later, muse a and muse b reunite at muse a’s best friend’s funeral. imagine the hurt of losing a loved one but having the comfort of yet another loved one?? blurred lines, tension, second-guesses…….

let me take care of you (southern charm)

okay so i’ve been kicking around a ranch hand plot where muse a is looking for help around the ranch they’ve just inherited due to a death in the family, and seeing as they’re just one person with lots of land, and virtually no knowledge on how to take care of it, it’s impossible to go it all on their own… enter muse b. muse b, a man who not only knows how to work the land but can take care of the ranch with ease, finds it impossible to not take care of muse a, while he's at it. just give me texan sunsets and lovers with low static music crooning in the background from some vinyl record please & ty

friends with benefits (with feelings)

a friends with benefits plot where muse a is dead-set, hellbent on not having a relationship and not getting too intimately involved with muse b; muse b has been in love with muse a for years, and muse a knows this, but still can’t bring themselves to get emotionally attached. i need tensionnnn and like, a lil toxicity ykwim??? for the angst omg 

will you come find me (after the after party?)

so hear me out — a plot where muse a and muse b met at a friend of a friend’s party & instantly hit it off. muse a is immediately infatuated with muse b — they laugh, talk, drink; they even make an incredible beer pong team. at some point during the night, muse a decides to put the moves on muse b. however, after leaving to get them some drinks, muse a comes back to find muse b kissing someone else… and to make it worse? it’s their boyfriend/girlfriend. tbh this plot could have the potential of a shakespearean comedy if we did it right akdjgh ok i'm talking messssssssyyyy 

you feel like home (but i’ve got a different address)

okay so i need a tense plot where muse a and muse b are soulmates, beyond the shadow of a doubt — but muse a is married to a nightmare of a spouse. little by little, they spend more time together one on one, but it’s getting increasingly harder for muse b to see muse a with their spouse, especially knowing how that spouse treats muse a. idk this is a rough plot/work in progress plot but i feel like it has potential to go somewhere!!!

— as always, send an ask or a private message if you'd be interested in any of these up!! happy writing 🥰🥰