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Cold, Shiny, Hard Plastic - Part 4
Steve and Eddie share their first detention. Read on A03 [here] Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
Steve stays silent as Robin slides into the passenger seat. His eyes are fixed across the parking lot, watching Eddie Munson climb into a beaten-up van.
At first, when Eddie had given him a chance to win him over, Steve had felt elatedâmaybe even a little smug. He was confident in his ability to charm people, after all, and heâd been sure Eddie would be no exception. But now, doubt was creeping in. This didnât feel like a game or some lighthearted banter. He genuinely wanted to be Eddieâs friend. And for some reason, he had a gut feeling that his usual approach wouldnât cut it.
âStare any harder and you might set him on fire with your mind,â Robin says, breaking the silence.
Steve doesnât respond. He just keeps watching until the van rumbles to life and pulls out of its spot.
âA penny for your thoughts?â she tries again.
Steve taps his fingers against the steering wheel, then lets out a troubled sigh. âHow do I prove to someone Iâm not a complete asshole anymoreâin two weeks?â
âDonât be yourself,â Robin deadpans.
Steve shoots her a lookâequal parts frustration and betrayal.
âI donât know,â she continues, shrugging. âAsk him about himself. Take an interest in his interests. Or bake him a giant cake with âSorry I was a humongous assholeâ written on top in three different colours of icing.â
âThanks, Rob,â Steve scoffs. âMaybe Iâll open an apology bakery. Hand out cakes to everyone Iâve ever personally victimised.â
âIs there enough flour and icing in the world for that?â Robin teases, laughing at the wounded look on his face. âOkay, okayâmaybe that was too far.â
Steve flips her off with a sigh, then starts the engine.
The next afternoon, Robin is doubled over with laughter as Steve pulls a Tupperware container out of his locker. Itâs full of cookies, each one iced with a single word in neat, looping black and red script. Lined up, they spell: âsorry for being an asshole.â The last cookie, added just to make the number even, is decorated with tiny batsâlike the tattoo Steve had noticed on Eddieâs arm.
âI canât believe you actually baked something,â Robin says, wiping a tear from her eye. âPlease tell me you took pictures of this. We need scientific proof that guys will do literally anything except talk about their feelings.â
âI was stressed, okay?â Steve hisses. âI stress-baked. And then I figured, why not do something with it? At least itâs not a cake like you suggested.â
âRight, because a container full of perfectly decorated cookies is totally normal, but a cake? That would be too much,â Robin says, deadpan. âHonestly, the worst part is no oneâs going to believe me when I tell them Steve Harrington bakes under pressure.â
âI donât usually,â Steve mutters. âYou put the idea in my head.â
âYou canât lie to me, Steve,â Robin says, narrowing her eyes. âI bet you had a little apron with your initials on it and everything.â
Steve doesnât respondâbecause unfortunately, he did have something like that. When he was six, his nanny gave him a tiny apron with his initials embroidered on the chest. Sheâd been teaching him to bake. His mom had called it adorable. His dad had just frowned, waiting for the day Steve would outgrow it so he could throw it away.
âOh my gosh, you did!â Robin crows. âThis is the best day of my life.â
âI was six, Rob. I donât have it anymore.â
Robin is still giggling as Steve carefully places the container into a gift bag he picked up from the store, handling it like it might explode.
âI mean, itâs actually kind of impressive,â she says, peeking into the bag. âThey look really good. You even kept the icing from bleeding. Thatâs, like, expert level.â She glances from the cookies to Steve, then back again. âWaitâwhereâs mine? Why didnât I get anything from the Harrington Apology Bakery? Is this because Iâm a lesbian? Wow, Steve. Discrimination and emotional neglect?â
Steve glares at her. âYouâre not helping.â
âIâm not trying to help,â she replies cheerfully. âIâm preparing myself for the moment you hand this to Eddie Munson and he either laughs in your face, throws the box at your head, or proposes on the spot because youâve proven youâd make a great house husband.â
Steve groans, staring down at the gift bag like itâs suddenly a terrible idea. âHeâs going to think Iâm making fun of him, isnât he?â
Robinâs grin softens. âMaybe. But if he does, youâll explain. Youâll tell him itâs sincere. And if he still doesnât believe you, at least you tried.â
Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. âI donât know why I care so much.â
âBecause youâre not plastic anymore, remember?â Robin shrugs. âOr maybe you are, but now youâre using your powers for good.â
âSomething like that,â Steve mumbles. He looks at her, then down at the bag again. âI just hope he sees that too.â
âHey,â Robin nudges him gently as they head toward the entrance. âItâs going to be fine. And if itâs not, youâve still got eight more days to win him over. Thatâs what the prophecy says, right?â
âNow you sound just like him, nerd,â Steve says with a laugh as they stop outside the music room.
âIâm not the one who spent last night perfecting apology cookies for a guy I once saw drop half a sandwich in the parking lot, shrug, and keep eating it without brushing off the gravel,â Robin says, giving him a look. âLoser.â
âGo hang out with your crush.â
âEnjoy making a fool of yourself in the name of friendship,â she fires back.
They grin at each other before heading off in opposite directions.
Steve mutters under his breath on the way to detention, rehearsing what heâll say when he hands over his homemade olive branch.
âOkay, just say it. âHey, Eddie, I made you these to say Iâm sorry I used to be a jerkââ He grimaces. âNo, too blunt. Heâll think Iâm trying to bribe him into forgiving me.â A pause. ââI figured you deserved something sweet for once.ââ He winces. âNope. Sounds like Iâm flirting. Shit.â
He stops outside the classroom door, takes a deep breath, and squares his shoulders.
âYouâve got this. Just walk in, hand it over, be cool. Be sincere. No big deal.â
He pushes the door openâand frustration hits him like a freight train. Tommy Hagan is sitting in the second row, smirking like he owns the place.
âWell, well,â Tommy sneers. âPrecious Stevie slumming it in detention with the misfits.â He nods at the gift bag in Steveâs hand. âWhatâs in the bag, Harrington?â
Steve rolls his eyes. He spots Eddie in the back row, watching curiously. Drawing on the same fire heâd felt in gym class, Steve smooths his expression into one of bored disinterest.
âWouldnât worry about it, Tommy,â he says coolly. âItâs not for people who peaked in sophomore year.â
Laughter ripples through the room as Steve walks past.
Tommy scoffs and twists in his seat. âSo, howâve you been spending detention time? You and Munson been bonding over being total losers? Your shared Daddy and Mommy issues? Might wanna watch who youâre spending your time with, Steve. Weâve all heard the rumors. People might start thinking youâre a Devil worshiping queer too.â
Eddie stiffens. His gaze drops to his notebook, shoulders tense, fists clenched.
Steve stops. Slowly, he turns. The room falls silent. He sets the bag down on an empty desk with deliberate care, then faces Tommy, arms crossed.
âYou know, Tommy,â Steve says, voice calm but cutting, âI used to think you were just a loudmouth with a small brain. But now I think youâre scared.â
Tommy blinks. âOf what? You? The freak?â
âYeah,â Steve says, stepping closer. âBecause heâs got something you never willâan actual personality. He doesnât need to tear people down to feel important. He doesnât need to ride someone elseâs coattails to matter. And he definitely doesnât spend his afternoons trying to prove heâs relevant by bullying people who are ten times more interesting than heâll ever be.â
Tommy opens his mouth, but Steve keeps going.
âYouâre not funny. Youâre not clever. Youâre not brave. Youâre just loud. And the only reason anyone ever laughed at your jokes was because they thought they had to.â
The silence is deafening.
âAnd what really scares you,â Steve finishes, âis that I feel better nowâwithout you, without Billy, without any of it. Because that means all the crap you did to be popular? It didnât matter.â
Tommyâs face flushes. âYou think youâre better than me now?â
Steve leans in, voice low. âIâve always been better than you. I just used to pretend we were equals.â
Before Tommy can respond, the teacher walks in and clears his throat. âThatâs enough, gentlemen.â
Steve doesnât break eye contact. âYeah. It is.â
He turns, picks up the bag, and walks to the back of the room. Eddie is staring at him, wide-eyed.
Steve sets the bag down gently. âThis is for you,â he says, quieter now.
Eddie blinks, then pulls out the Tupperware. He lets out a breathless laugh. âYou really are full of surprises, Harrington.â
Steve shrugs and slides into the seat beside him. âGet used to it.â
âI thought youâd try to bribe me with some fancy rich-kid gift. But this?â Eddie lifts the lid. âYou bought me personalized cookies?â
âI baked them,â Steve says. âThey say âsorry for being an asshole.ââ
âYou baked these?â Eddie stares at him. âFrom scratch? And iced them?â
âYeah. I didnât know what else to do. I was stressed, started baking, and⊠well, here we are.â
Eddie looks at the cookies, then at Steve, then back again. Then he exhalesâand bursts out laughing.
Steveâs stomach sinks. He knew this was a bad idea.
âShhh!â the teacher hisses.
âSorry,â Eddie says, trying to stifle his laughter.
âIf you think itâs dumb, I get it,â Steve mutters. âI can take them back.â
Eddieâs head snaps up. âDonât you dare.â He clutches the box to his chest. âIt is dumb. Itâs also the most ridiculous, thoughtful thing anyoneâs ever done for me. I love them.â
Steve blinks. âReally?â
âYes, really. The time and effort you put into this?â Eddie shakes his head. âI gave you two weeks, and youâve already got me rethinking everything I thought I knew about King Steve Harrington in twenty-four hours.â
Steve swallows. âAnd what conclusions are you coming to?â
Eddie grins. âFirst? Youâre really fucking weird.â
Steve frowns.
âNo, thatâs a compliment,â Eddie says quickly. âThe weird ones are the ones I trust.â
Steve smiles. âI can live with that.â
Eddie sets the box down, pulls out the bat-decorated cookie, and snaps it in half. He offers one piece to Steve.
âTo new alliances,â he says, holding his half like a toast.
Steve taps his cookie against Eddieâs. âNew alliances.â
They take a bite. And honestly? Theyâre pretty damn good cookies if Steve does say so himself.
Steve drags himself to detention the next afternoon.
If he had to guess, heâd say he got maybe two and a half hours of sleep last night. His brain had decided to torment him againâvisions of monsters with too many teeth, and flashes of Nancy with her finger on the trigger, aimed right at him. Worst of all was the dream about Barb. Dying alone in his pool.
Those were always the hardest. He hadnât seen what happened to her, so his imagination filled in the blanksâusually in the cruelest way possible.
Tommyâs already there when Steve walks in, but heâd overheard the teacher say itâs his last day. Small mercies. Still, Tommy seems determined to go out swinging.
âYou look like crap today, Steve,â he sneers.
Steve doesnât miss a beat. âSo, like you every day, then.â He pauses, then adds, âBy the way, I never said this before because I didnât want to hurt your feelings, but last year? Your hair looked like a toilet brush.â
Tommy bolts upright. âYou said it looked cool! You said Carol would love it!â
âYeah, I lied,â Steve says with a cringe. âWe used to laugh about it when you werenât around. Sorry. Guess Iâm just a huge bitchâlike you told Billy when you ran and cried to him after I showed you up in gym last week.â
Eddieâs doing that thing where he hides a smile behind his hand. Steve feels a flicker of reliefâat least their fragile truce from yesterday hasnât shattered overnight.
He drops into the seat beside him. âSo⊠Dungeons and Dragons has monster fights, right?â
Heâs still jittery from the nightmares. Part of him just wants a distraction. The other part is hoping Eddie might say somethingâanythingâthat makes the things he saw feel less real.
âThatâs a bit of an oversimplification,â Eddie says, leaning forward, âbut yeah, thatâs part of it. Why? Thinking of playing? Because Iâm telling you now, Steveâif you give another DM your D&D virginity, I might have to revoke our friendship.â
Steve grins. âSo, you admit itâyou think of me as a friend.â
He ignores the rest of what Eddie said. He has no idea what a DM is and heâs not ready to ask.
âItâs been, what, two days since you issued your challenge? Be a bit harder to get than that, Eddie.â
âWhat can I say? The way to a manâs heart is through his stomach.â Eddie pats his stomach for emphasis. âAlso, my uncle tried one of your cookies and told me to hold off on forgiving you until we see if youâll bake more. So, it works on him too I guess.â
âWell, now youâve shown your hand,â Steve teases. âBut honestly, if today keeps going the way itâs been, Iâll probably be stress-baking again by tonight.â
Eddieâs expression shifts. âYou okay?â
âIâm fine,â Steve says quickly. Then, after a pause: âDo you ever feel like youâre living on a completely different planet from everyone else? And you wish you werenât, but thereâs no changing it?â
âOnly all the time,â Eddie says without hesitation. âEvery single day. Three sixty-five, twenty-four seven.â
He looks at Steve like heâs trying to figure him outâand like heâs willing to offer a piece of himself in return.
âWhat do you do about it?â Steve asks.
âI find people who feel the same way,â Eddie says. âMakes it less lonely.â
Steve nods slowly. âYeah⊠that makes sense.â
He remembers Mike and his friends huddled together in the hospital waiting room, comforting each other while they waited for news about Will.
âThat makes perfect sense. Thanks, Eddie.â
âNo problem,â Eddie says with a quiet smile. âSo, I believe we were talking about D&D. What did you want to know?â
Steve hesitates. âSay you defeat the monster. What are the chances it comes back?â
Eddie tilts his head, thoughtful. âShort answer? Yeah, it can. Depends on how it was defeated. Some creatures are hard to kill for good. You can slay it, sure, but if the conditions are rightâor if somethingâs unfinishedâit might return.â
Steveâs jaw tightens. âUnfinished like what?â
âCould be anything.â Eddie shrugs. âMaybe the party didnât destroy its source of power. Maybe it left a mark on someone. Or maybe it just lives in a place that doesnât follow the same rules. Some monsters donât die the way you expect them to.â
Steve nods, eyes distant. âSo even if you think itâs over⊠it might not be.â
âExactly,â Eddie says, watching him more closely now. âBut thatâs why you donât fight alone. Youâve got your party. If it comes back, you face it againâtogether. And maybe this time, youâre stronger. Smarter. Less scared.â
Steveâs voice is quiet. âRight. Yeah. Thatâs what I was afraid of.â
Eddie shifts in his seat, more careful now. âIn the game, thatâs kind of the point. The danger coming backâit keeps the story going. Helps the characters grow.â He glances at Steve, then away. âBut if youâre talking about something else⊠itâs not really about the monster. Itâs about what it left behind. The effect it had on you.â
Steve doesnât respond, but he doesnât look away either.
Eddie clears his throat. âIâm not trying to get all deep or anything. I just⊠I get it. Being afraid somethingâs not really over. Even when everyone else thinks it is.â
He offers a small, tentative smile. âYou donât have to tell me what it is. But if you ever want to talkâthrough D&D metaphors or just normallyâIâm around.â
Steve gives him a grateful smile. âIâll keep that in mind.â He straightens up a little, trying to lighten the mood. âAnyway. What made you get into D&D in the first place? I remember Mikeâs games used to go on for hours, and he never ran out of things to say.â
âOh yeah, that can happen,â Eddie laughs. âWhoâs Mike? I need to know who my competition is for best DM in Hawkins.â
âNancy Wheelerâs little brother. Donât worry, heâs like 13, heâs probably not coming for your throne any time soon.â
âSee, you say that, but I do actually have a throne in the Hellfire Club room. And itâs not nailed down. If this Mike kidâs good at lockpicking, I might be in trouble.â
âAnd they call me the King.â Steve laughs. âI donât think Iâve ever met anyone more dramatic than you.â
Eddie gasps. âMe? Dramatic? you wound me, Steve!â He clutches his chest like heâs been mortally wounded, then flops back in his chairâtoo far. The legs tip, and his eyes go wide.
Steve lunges forward and catches it just in time.
They look at each other, then both burst out laughing as Steve steadies the chair. Heâs still giggling when he sits back, the image of Eddieâs panicked face replaying in his head.
âDude, your face,â he wheezes. âYou looked ridiculous.â
âStill saved me, though, didnât ya?â Eddie says smugly, leaning in. âAnyway, itâs cool you know another group of players. Always nice to hear about more people keeping the game alive. Youâll have to introduce me sometime.â
Eddie pauses, more serious now. âD&D was the first thing that made me feel like I was good at something. I could make people laugh, get them hyped, tell a story that mattered. Suddenly, I wasnât just the weird kidâI was the Dungeon Master. People respected me. It gave me a place to belong. Still does.â
âThatâs really cool,â Steve says.
âReally? Even though itâs a nerd game?â
âYeah. I wish I had something like that.â
âYou can,â Eddie says. âYou just have to find it. Itâs part of the journey from current jock asshole to reformed jock asshole.â
Steve thinks for a moment. âI used to like swimming. Now I just get in the pool, panic, and swim as fast as I can to get it over with. Still worksâtiming-wiseâbut I donât enjoy it anymore.â
âWhyâs that? If you donât mind me asking.â
Steve hesitates. âItâs kind of a long story.â
Eddie raises an eyebrow. âWhat, Iâm not cool enough to know?â
âNo, no. Thereâs just legal stuff involved, and I have to be careful what I say,â Steve sighs, running his hands through his hair to self-soothe. âSomeone... drowned... in my parentsâ pool. I didnât even know they were out there. But I still feel guilty. I get these nightmares, and since I didnât see what happened, my brain fills in the blanks. Itâs disturbing. Now I feel weird around pools. Itâs stupid.â
âWell shit,â Eddie says. âThatâs rough, buddy.â
âYeah. Tell me about it.â
Eddie shakes his head. âItâs not stupid, Steve.â
Steve raises an eyebrow. âReally? Whoâs afraid of swimming pools other than literal children?â
âTrauma is trauma,â Eddie says with a shrug. âBrains do weird stuff. My dad was a shithead criminal. Used to make me hide in the closet when the cops came around. Now, even if I know itâs not for me, sirens make me feel like Iâm back in the dark again. Scares me every time.â
Steve blinks. âWow.â
âYeah. Momâs dead and dadâs on the run. Your old buddy wasnât totally wrong with the âmommy and daddy issuesâ comment.â
Steve is quiet for a moment, then lets out a breath.
âMy parents arenât⊠like that. Not in the same way. Theyâre not around much, but itâs not because theyâre running from the law. Itâs more like they just⊠donât care.â
He glances at Eddie, then away again.
âMy mom had me to try and save their marriage. She told me that onceâlike it was some kind of confession. But it didnât work. She still has to follow my dad around on business trips to make sure he doesnât cheat on her. And when sheâs not doing that, sheâs pretending everythingâs fine. Like Iâm just this⊠background detail in their life.â
He shrugs, trying to play it off, but his voice is quieter now.
âI think they see me as a disappointment. Or maybe just a reminder that things didnât turn out the way they wanted. Either way, Iâve kind of been on my own for a while.â
Eddieâs expression softens. He leans back slightly, like heâs giving Steve space but still fully tuned in.
âMan⊠that sucks. I mean, I knew your folks werenât exactly winning Parent of the Year, but I didnât know it was like that.â
He pauses, thoughtful.
âThat thing your mom said? About having you to fix the marriage? Thatâs not on you. None of it is. You didnât ask to be born into their mess. And if they canât see what theyâve got in front of them, thatâs their loss.â
He gives Steve a small, sincere smile.
âYouâre not a disappointment, Harrington. Youâre just stuck trying to live up to expectations that were never fair to begin with. And honestly? Youâre doing a hell of a lot better than most people would in your shoes.â
Then, after a beat, Eddie adds with a crooked grin:
âAlso, if it helps, I think youâre alright. And Iâve got excellent taste in people.â
âJust alright?â Steve asks. âDamn, tough crowd.â
âWell, I canât let you have all the highest honours right away. Thereâs still a chance I might find something that makes you go down in my estimationsâlike what if youâre secretly lying about your perfect hair and have just been wearing a wig this whole time?â
Steve gasps, deeply offended. âYou take that back right now. Donât even joke about that.â
âI donât know,â Eddie says, eyes narrowing playfully. âSounds like youâre protesting a little too much there, Steve.â
Steve lunges at him, but itâs all in good fun. Soon theyâre both roughhousing and laughing in a way that makes Steve feel light and carefree. The teacher starts to yell at them, but the timer goes off, signaling the end of detention.
Somehow, the hour flew by.
They gather their things, still grinning.
âSame time tomorrow?â Eddie asks as they head for the door.
Steve bumps his shoulder. âWouldnât miss it.â
And for once, he means it.
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#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve x eddie#my fics#sneaked in an ATLA reference
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Never was just friendship

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto
Tags: 18+, smut, angst, emotional tension, forbidden love, ex bestfriends to lovers.
Art not mine!
Summary: It was supposed to be over. Gojo was supposed to kill him. Geto was supposed to stay gone. But when a cruel twist of fate forces them into a confrontation neither expected, old wounds resurfaceâalong with desires they both buried a long time ago.
Gojoâs grip on Getoâs collar was tight, his breathing ragged as he slammed him against the wall, the weight of a hundred unsaid things pressing down on both of them.
âYou should be dead,â Gojo snarled, but his hand didnât move to finish the job. His other hand trembled at his side, knuckles whitening as though it took everything in him to not pull Geto closer.
Getoâs smirk was lazy, but his eyes flickered with something sharp. âAnd yet, here I am. Still haunting you.â
Gojoâs teeth ground together. âI should hate you.â
âYou donât.â
His cursed energy flared, fingers tightening in the fabric of Getoâs robes, dragging him impossibly closer. Their faces were inches apart nowâtoo close, too dangerous, too familiar.
âDo you know how many times I thought about this?â Gojo hissed, his voice cracked at the edges, strained with restraint. âHow many times I wanted to end you?â
âTell me, Satoru,â Geto murmured, his voice like velvet wrapping around a dagger. âWhen you had your hand around my throat in those fantasies⊠were you trying to kill me or fuck me?â
Something inside Gojo snapped.
His mouth crashed onto Getoâs, brutal and bruising, years of suppressed feelings exploding in the violent kiss. He hated him. He wanted him. He always had.
Getoâs hand slid into Gojoâs hair, gripping the soft strands tight as their teeth clashed, tongues battling for control. Neither of them gave an inch. Neither wanted to.
Gojoâs blindfold was ripped off and discarded, his impossibly blue eyes blazing with something between lust and rage. âYou think I forgot what you taste like?â he growled, biting at Getoâs lower lip hard enough to draw blood. âYou think I havenât missed this?â
His hands roamed down Getoâs body, shoving aside layers of his robes, desperate to feel skin under his fingertips. His palm splayed across Getoâs chest, nails dragging down his ribs, leaving angry red lines in their wake.
âYou missed me?â Geto taunted, even as his breath stuttered when Gojoâs hand slipped lower, cupping him through the growing heat between his legs. âCouldâve fooled me when you tried to kill me.â
Gojo shoved his knee between Getoâs legs, grinding up against him with maddening pressure. âOh, Iâm still going to kill you,â he promised, his voice rough as he licked the blood from Getoâs lip. âBut not before I make you fall apart for me first.â
Getoâs hiss of pleasure melted into a groan when Gojoâs hand slipped into his pants, his long fingers wrapping around him with a firm, practiced grip.
âStill the same,â Gojo whispered, pumping him slow but tight, savoring the way Getoâs head tipped back against the wall. âStill so responsive to me.â
Getoâs composure frayed with each stroke, each calculated twist of Gojoâs wrist.
âFuck, Satoruââ
Hearing his name like thatâguttural, needyâunlocked something feral in Gojo. âYouâre not going to come until I say,â Gojo ordered, dragging his thumb over the leaking tip. âSay it.â
"Fuck you."
Gojoâs pace stuttered, a dark grin pulling at his lips. âLater.â
With his free hand, Gojo unzipped his pants, his cock aching, flushed, desperate for friction. He dragged Getoâs hand down to wrap around him, forcing him to stroke him in sync with his own pace.
âTouch me, Suguru. You owe me that much.â
Their foreheads pressed together, sweat beading on their skin, curses muttered between kisses that were more teeth than tongue.
âSay you missed me,â Gojo demanded, his breath hot against Getoâs lips. Getoâs fingers squeezed just a little tighter. âI fucking hate you.â
âYou can hate me all you want,â Gojo groaned, rutting into Getoâs palm as his own hand worked him faster. âBut you still fucking want me.â
Their strokes grew more frantic, more desperate, hips moving in a messy rhythm as both teetered on the edge. âCum for me,â Gojo panted, his grip faltering as pleasure coiled tight in his core. âCum with me.â
Geto bit back a groan, but his body betrayed him, his release spilling over Gojoâs hand just as Gojo buried his face in Getoâs neck, cumming hard with a shuddering breath.
They collapsed against each other, foreheads still pressed together, their pants mingling in the silence that followed.
Gojoâs thumb lazily brushed over Getoâs lip again, tracing the cut heâd made. âI should still kill you,â he whispered, but the venom was gone now. It sounded more like a plea than a threat.
Geto smirked faintly, brushing Gojoâs hair back. âYeah. Maybe next time.â And they both knew thereâd be a next time.
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!! SPOILER WARNING!! â ïž
What if there was something more to Loganâs statement?
In the newest episode, âWhat Makes a Perfect Gift?â, when Logan hints to Virgil that he is disappointed with his newspaper, he makes a point to say:
â⊠there was obviously something about my personality that made you think a newspaper would be a proper gift for me, and whatever that is, I will have to reflect on that. This whole activity was to serve a higher purpose anyway.â
Thomas then assures Logan: âYouâre doing good, Logan.â
They never discuss what exactly âthe purposeâ was. I also believe the wording of Loganâs statement was odd. This could just be a nod to his past history of disconnection with the group, but I believe it could be more.
I propose:
Could he be talking about the Orange Side?
I believe that âthe aspect of his personalityâ Logan needs to reflect on could be a reference to Orange.
We already know that Orange and Logan are connected in some way, hence, the glowing orange eyes. They never discuss âthe purposeâ or âthe aspect his personalityâ after itâs brought up.
Something about how Thomas said, âYouâre doing good Logan,â tells me that Thomas, in some capacity, can see how much of a hard time Logan had. Janus and Remus obviously know about Orange, but what about the others?
Could it be that Logan is trying to keep Orange at bay?
Logan was the Side who ultimately decided to initiate the Gift Exchange. This is odd.
They even call this out when Roman says: âLogan, youâve never run one of these things.â
Patton agrees with that statement saying: âHey, yeah! Itâs usually me or Roman. Wha-?â
Logan replies: âWell, things are a little different this year.â
Logan is trying new things and intentionally going out of his way to make sure Orange is not shown to the rest of the group.
He is making an effort to reconnect and get away from the one-dimensional âsmart guyâ stereotype because he can see how that can feed into Orange.
I would like to hear other peopleâs takes on this line. There are many ways you could interpret it, but it seems so cryptic that I might as well apply it to a theory of mine. Enjoy my over exaggeration of a small line. đȘđȘđȘ
#sanders sides#sanders asides#ts sides#thomas sanders#sanders sides spoilers#ts logan#logan sanders#orange side#sanders sides theory#these are just my thoughts#this line is going to make my head explode#analysis
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Irwin,
Iâm probably the last person you want to hear from. Youâre also probably wondering how I got your email addressâblame Ken. I know how you are so Iâll get straight to the point. Iâve come across a lucrative deal that I just canât ignore, and I need you. I need you for one last job.

Even though weâve ignored each other forâ God knows how longâ I just had to reach out because youâre the only one I trust. Should you choose to accept this job, Iâll split everything down the middle and I swear thisâll be the last time that youâll have to protect me.
-Ted
P.s. If all goes well, Iâd love nothing more than to catch up. Iâve missed you. There is so much that I need to tell you.

<-previous
#money inc x vice city au#money inc: disjointed#my art#2008- Liberty City- Star Junction#So far removed the heat and life of Vice City...#Irwin was ready to leave for the night when a notification rings out on his laptop#An email with the subject line ''One Last Job"#His heart sunk when he read the sender's name; almost as if a ghost appeared..to haunt him...to remind him. To call out-#Usually Irwin was prompt with responses even after business hours#But this...he couldn't find the energy to craft an answer.#To do what Ted was asking him to do...the weight of that request. And it's so easy for Ted to ask for it- he's never had to watch a man's#head explode through a scope...over...and over again...for the sake of loyalty and protection.#Devotion#But it was all too tempting; 20 years apart has the power to make you revert to the old you that was lost to time#To go back...a chance to go back and revel in it for a brief moment#-Mark as unread-#There was a strange bead forming in the corner of his eye...taking his glasses off he wipes it away.#Must be the eye strain from working in the dark. It must be....
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bf! toji who fucks you so well on camera that your account skyrockets to the top on onlyfans and pornhub. his face, body, and dirty talk garners thousandsâno, millionsâof followers and gets the money rolling in faster than you could say his name. of course, heâs not the only reason for all the popularity; youâre sexy in every way possible, fucking him back before you inevitably go dumb on his cock, going so far as to talk right back to him.
âwhat am i, a whore?â despite his words, toji smirks, clicking his tongue at the incoming comments of new members of the stream. âweâve been live for two minutes. âm not taking my clothes off yet, damn.â
âoh, come on,â you press up against his side, manicured nails lightly raking over his biceps, âgive âem what they want, toji.â
he huffs, turning his head to the side. still damp from the shower, tojiâs dark hair goes along with the movement, bits sticking to his forehead. âwhat you want or what they want, baby?â
the chat explodes with wild comments, ranging from raw next question to iâm doing it are you, all of which makes you laugh. tips ka-ching on the screen and finally, the clothes fly off in all directions.
tojiâs on his back, greedily pulling you on top of his face like heâs starving (dinner was an hour ago). heâs refrained from ripping off your underwear, favoring the idea of teasing you through the fabric instead.
âoff, let me take âem off,â you whine, squirming as he holds you over his face and takes his sweet goddamn time licking over your dampened panties. âthatâs not fair, toji.â
his green eyes narrow at you, a scoff slipping past his lips. so sassy, but at least he doesnât ignore your pleas this timeâmaybe tojiâs feeling magnanimous. âsuck it up.â
perhaps not. another whine, and you go so far as to tug at his hair, hips rocking insistently into his face. âyouâre so annoying,â neither of you are looking at your phone, the way the screenâs bursting with colorful tip notifications and comments, âif you arenât hungry, just say so. donât waste my time, toji.â
of course toji would never admit it, but heâs got a habit of being easy: always taking your purposeful bait, smug expression melting into a scowl. and oh, maybe that was the wrong thing to sayâbut it certainly feels so damn right when he yanks your panties to the side and sits you all the way down on his face.
still offended, he grunts, mumbling something intelligible as his lips find your wet cunt. (like, youâve been together for how long?) slippery arousal coats your skin, slicking up his lips with something bittersweet when he indulges in his favorite dessert.
youâre rocking your hips into his face, eagerly taking everything heâs giving you. a small moan escapes you when your clit bumps into the tip of his nose, sending a delightful bolt of electricity through your entire body.
ât-toji, fuck.â
your virtual audience is nearly enjoying this as much as you are. if his teeth werenât lightly nibbling at your folds while his tongue pushes inside you inch by inch, youâd be in a state to laugh at the comments. one of his palms falls away from your ass and before you can register the brief loss, a stinging slap cuts through the air.
âoughta watch that mouth, babygirl,â toji ignores the wail that follows the impact, along with the glossy tears that spring to your eyes. âmaybe if you didnât have so much goddamn nerve, iâd..â
it shouldnât come out as quickly as it does, but you purposefully grind down into his mouth, ignoring the muffled sound of him choking on all the saliva. âyouâd what, toji?â
some comments are excited, wondering whatâll happen now that youâre challenging him right back. others are raving about being in your position or tojiâsâsomething along the lines of how difficult it is to choose.
he shoves you up with just one hand, feeling his cock twitch from the softness of your thighs circling his head and the way you use that damn mouth of yours. tojiâs never had someone talk back to him as much as you do, and itâs something heâll never get tired of. itâs something that throws him off while heâs giving you backshots and secretly makes him cum faster, although he pretends to get hamstring cramps just to buy himself some more time.
tojiâs almost too blissed out to snap back.
âiâd give you mercy, but what was i jusâ saying? maybe youâd like it a little fuckinâ better if i kept eating this pussy of yours.â
you look down your nose at him. âlike you could keep going, old man.â
that strikes a chord, hitting a nerve much faster than it should. so toji drags in a breath and dives in, as filthy and careless as he can beâmaking a mess, spreading your legs impossibly wider just to find that sweet spot of yours that always gets you arching on his face.
wet noise fills the room, backing the breathless gasps and moans that fall from your lips, along with softer panting of mumbled praises bunching with his name. the way he eatsâno, devoursâyou is akin to someone whoâs been both starving and thirsty for days on end, too insatiable to please with just one taste.
ecstasy sparks in all your nerves, chasing its way to the tension pooling in the core of your body. itâs red hot and heavy, begging to be released; but no, toji commands your high with the rough strokes of his tongue and obscene slurping of his lips. he lets it simmer right below the surface until youâre begging, hands on either side of his head as you weakly hump against his face.
âi-i said,â you grit out, ignoring the sticky sheen of sweat covering your face, âmake me cum, toji.â
he arches an eyebrow, satisfaction sparkling in his eyes. âand ya still didnât say please.â
frustration bubbles up in your chest. itâs rare for you to be reduced to a begging mess on live, but thereâs supposedly a first time for everything. your lips part, preparing to give him what he wants, when something bratty speaks in the back of your mind. thereâs no need to listen to him, is there?
with one hand slipping into his damp hair and the other stabilizing you on the bed, you take what you want from him. like an ocean wave, your hips roll not-so-gently over his face until you finally fall over the edge, convulsing a little as you cum.
the orgasm literally takes your breath awayânot to mention his as wellâand leaves you whining as you come down from the intense high, stars shooting across your vision. neither of you have been paying much attention to your phone, too engrossed in each other to notice the fact that youâve met the livestream donation goal or all the new followers youâve earned.
toji lifts you up, cheeks flushed scarlet. he is simultaneously turned on by you taking control of him and also pissed that you refused to say just one word.
âfucking brat,â toji curses, easily maneuvering your weakened body into a new position thatâs got you on your hands and knees, ass all the way up. âyouâre gonna face that goddamn camera while i wreck this pretty pussy, got that?â
ââm still sensiâoh my god. a-ah, fuckâwait a second, iââ
behind you, toji smacks his lips, placing both hands on your ass cheeks and spreading you wide. âno, no. this is what you wanted, right? for me to make you cum again and a-fucking-gain.â
you backpedal, back arching unintentionally when two large fingers slide into your cunt without much resistance. âfuck, tojiii, waitââ
a squeal actually leaves you when he puts a hand on the small of your back and forces you to maintain the arch. toji can be stingy at times, but never when youâheâs got a habit of being too generous, if the right buttons are pushed.
âmight wanna think about saying please next time, yeah? fuckinâ thought so.â
#kurooh#pegging pt 2 ?#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk imagines#jjk x you#toji x you#toji smut#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#smut#toji headcanons
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Golden Boy
pairing: Bob Reynolds/Sentry x fem!reader.
summary: Riding your Golden Boy. Somewhere along the lines, Sentry takes over and has his way with his girl.
warnings: smut, smut and more smut. bob being a soft boy, sentry being self indulgent and taking you within an inch of your life because you asked for it. (i fear i was the one being self indulgent bcs idk sentry is so hot but so is void. but bob has my heart. let me know what yall think. hope yall enjoy this <33)
word count- 2.2k
masterlist
He wants to live inside you forever. Imprint himself on your very soul and on every fiber of your being. You feel good, you feel so incredibly and unbelievably right.
âOh God, Bob.Youâre so big..â you moan as you sink down on his cock. The dangerously adorable man underneath you has the thickest cock youâve ever had. The stretch overwhelms you and you bury your face in his neck, arms around him, trying to go as deep as possible. Bob hands grip your hips tightly, stopping you from sinking down on his cock too quickly. Mentally, you curse yourself for taking so long to try this position with your golden boy.
Bob feels dizzy too, his head spinning as he watches you. He craves touch, he craves your touch. His entire life, nobody had ever touched him like you, so lovingly and gently, tracing his skin like you were memorising and worshiping him. Instead, he spent a good portion of his years filling this empty space with drugs, getting high out of his mind and doing awful things he wouldnât even want to tell you.
Leaning up against the headboard, Bob watches you with lustful eyes, his plump lips part as he pants breathlessly. At this very moment, Bob felt like his heart might explode, death would be welcomed since he had truly lived a life worth living, an angel in his arms, wrapped around his cock. Sex before you was meaningless, he had been far too high to care about anything that was happening anyways.
âG-go slow. Donât have to get it all in.â He whimpers out between moans, groaning at how wet you are, dripping down the length of the cock.
âI-I want to, baby.â you reply shakily before pushing yourself down fully onto his cock. The stretch makes your eyes water, but he feels so goodâ you could cum right then and there.
Bobâs hands lift from your hips, moving to clutch your head and pull you away from his neck. âG-god, baby. Y-you didnâtâ you didnât have to.â He stutters out, his forehead flush against yours.
You want to ride him, bounce on his cock until you can't remember your own name. Rolling your hips and clenching down on his cock, your legs tremble at how good it feels. Bob, bless his heart, lets out a choked moan.
âB-Baby, baby. You canâtâ you canât do that. Iâll cum tooâoh god, too soon!â He moans.
It takes all your might to begin riding your golden boy. Hands on his shoulders you start lifting your hips, then sliding back down in his cock, over and over again. Your pace is slow yet hard and deep. You want to go faster but the blood in your veins feels so hot, you think youâll explode if youâre not careful.
His head is thrown back, eyes shut, lips parted and face flushed as you ride him. His hands return back to your hips, clutching you like a lifeline. The Golden Boy under you, is unequivocally and irrevocably yours, and fuckâ he looks gorgeous under you.
Letting go of his shoulders, you reach to clutch his face. âBob? Baby, look at me, please.â you whine, wanting those pretty eyes on you.
He blearily opens his eyes, his pupils blown and he looks utterly debased and lustful. His unnecessarily superhuman senses flare, overwhelmed by everything around him. He can feel every touch on his skin, the soft fingertips on his cheeks trying to reel him in, and the drag of your walls around his cock each time you move up and down.
Bob never wants this to end. He wants to be inside you like this forever. His cock pumping deep inside the love of his life.
The sound of your heart pounding in your chest echoes in his ears as he zeros in on you, the way your blood rushes so loudly through your veins.
The pleasure is too much, it throws you off-kilter. Head spinning, your hands drop down to his stomach to steady yourself.Thoughtlessly, his hands move to cup your breasts when yours let go of his face, entranced by each movement they make when you bounce on his cock. The pads of his thumbs toying with your hardened nipples.
His touch spurs you on, the way his eyes lustfully looks at you has you choking on your own saliva. Invigorated by this, you speed up, bouncing on his cock harder and faster. Bob can only take what you give him, mouth parted, moaning and grunting, here and there. You know you shouldnât overdo it, but Godâ his cock stretches you out so good and so deep, you know youâll feel it tomorrow. You want him to wreck you, rearrange you and ruin you for anyone else.
The coil within you winds up, getting tighter and tighter with each bounce of your body. Body tense and hot, you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, higher and higher. Head light and blood rushing, youâre losing yourself to this pleasure, your legs and thighs begin to cramp but you force yourself to keep going.It's like your mind isnât yours. You donât want to stop, you canât stop.
Bob knows you far too well. He can tell when youâre teetering to the edge of going too damn far. The way your eyes glass over, the way your moans spill out like you're about to cry, and the way you shake. His hands clutch your waist, his grip firm but careful, trying to bring you back to him. âS-Slow down, baby. Youâreâ fuck! Youâre t-trembling.â He says shakily trying not to succumb to how good you feel on his cock.
He says your name so softly, so reverently, trying to rouse you back to him. His arms wrap around you, under your arms, pulling you flush to him. Bobâs hand finds purchase on the back of your head, as it falls into the crook of his neck.
Gibberish falls out of your mouth. Something along the lines of âI want to cum, Robert. Let me make you cum too, please.â if Bobâs superhearing is to be trusted.
âI-I know, baby.â he soothes you. âL-let me do this for you, baby. Donâtâ you donât have to p-push yourself fâfor me.â he reasons with you, knowing you wouldnât stop until both of you had been thoroughly spent.
Too far gone to think straight, you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him take over. Holding your hips tightly, Bobâs hips begin to thrust up into you, his pace is steady but deep.
The way you melt into him makes his heart pound out of his chest, how you trust him to take over, when even he didnât trust himself. The way your soft moans spill out of your lips could make him cum inside your silky walls right now.
You want him to go faster, harder, make you cum so hard, you see stars. Desire has you so deep within its clutches, you canât escape. So you beg. âBob, please. Fuck me harder, please.â
âShh, Iâ I donât want to lose control, baby.â he whines back.
âI donât care, Bob. Please, just fuck me hard.â You beg him, voice needy.
âI need you to fuck me. Just fuck me hard, Robert.â The words leave your mouth desperately without much thought.
Something shifts in the air and you feel it immediately. The sudden influx of unexplainable energy, it feels sharp and strong. Steady and firm, unlike Bobâs hesitance.
Beneath you, Bob shifts, hands gripping your hips even tighter. Then, he plants his feet down onto the bed, angling himself before thrusting back into you, hard. This new angle hits that spot inside you, the one that makes you scream and see stars
The force of his thrusts has you losing your breath, your arms tighten around his neck as you hold on for dear life. Ecstasy flows through your veins, as he begins to fuck you within an inch of your life while your moans spill wantonly from your lips.
This, you think, is new. Bob has never done this. He doesnât usually fall into your begging, opting to hold back and not let himself lose. Alarm bells ring in your head, but somewhere between his grunts and the way his cock pounds into you, you forget it.
Heâs so deep inside you, pounding your pussy like his life depended on it. The pleasure builds within you, the pressure between your legs borders between too much and just enough.
You donât have a clue how long he has you like this but the coil finally snaps. Intense pleasure washes through you, sending your body into a state of ecstasy,and leaving you moaning and trembling. Your juices leak down Bobâs cock, coating both your thighs. He doesnât slow down.
His thrusts don't falter. Bobâs pace is unyielding, grunting as your walls clamp down on him. Utterly spent, your body is limp and pliant atop his as you try to get your bearings, letting him have his way with you.
Before you know it, Bob flips the both of you.
The sudden movement shocks you. Suddenly, you are underneath him. Peering up at your Golden Boy, his eyes are shut and his curls fall haphazardly across his forehead, sticking to the sweaty skin.
Without much thought, your hand reaches up to brush away his curls. You think to ask why he stopped when he hasnât cum yet.
Then, it clicks. The moment your fingers touch his skin, his eyes open. Otherworldly glow shines from his eyes.
Oh. This isnât your Bob.
âSentry?â You breathlessly ask.
The being above you doesnât reply. Instead, he looks at you with the ferocity of a starved man. Fear rushes through you yet your excitement outweighs it. His cock is still buried inside your sensitive pussy, you donât know whether to be afraid of him or do you want him to fuck you into the mattress.
Sentry speaks to you, âItâs unfair that he gets to keep you all by himself.â
Now, Sentry takes the reins. He pins you down onto the bed before thrusting into you. His presence is overwhelming, like he invades every inch of your senses.
Your previous climax had already made you sensitive. The sheer force of his unforgiving thrusts sends your body into overdrive. Overstimulation has you arching your back and curling your toes into the mattress.
In your fucked out state, you canât even comprehend the words that spill out your mouth.
Sentry thinks you look so damn pretty like this. A lover fit for a god like him, moaning and writhing under him as he pounds into you. Only he should see you in this state.
He increases his pace, pounding into you harder. After all, you had asked him to fuck you hard. He can feel your thighs tremble and he can hear how hard your heart is beating.
The blood in your veins rush rapidly through your body as you fall deeper into your sex-induced high. Sentry too gets high on you. His focuses his efforts on bringing to the edge again, too feel you clamp down his cock and wantonly moan for him. Only him.
He knows heâs close to the edge when his balls tighten and the pressure low in his belly becomes too much. You feel yourself losing control, his cock is so big and heâs going too hard and too fast. When you tense and your body arches without your control, he knows your cumming again.
Only this time, he comes too.
He ruts into you wildly, grunting loudly while letting pleasure take over as he spills himself into you. He holds you close, letting your pinned arms go.
Somewhere in your haze, trembles and aftershocks you manage to wrap your arms around him as he spills himself inside you. Itâs so much, even in your state, you know itâs too much.
The sheer volume of his thick cum feels so good inside you.
When he comes to, he can tell youâre still dazed. Your body is soft and pliant under him, while your eyes are glassy. His touch on your cheek grounds you a little. Itâs like you see that it's him.
âBaby?â You call out breathlessly to him.
âHmm?â He replies back but he thinks you donât even notice.
You wince when he slides out of you. Thick fluids both his and yours leak out of you. He holds back the urge to push it back in. He knows that tomorrow that youâll be sore but he hopes you donât regret asking him to fuck you hard.
He lays beside you, pulling your weak body into his and letting your head rest on his chest. Sentry feels your body tremble under his touch, the aftershock of your orgasms.
He softly strokes up and down your arm, you are safe and sound here with him. He is the Sentry after all. A God in his own right.
When your breathing slows, he knows youâll fall asleep soon. Your body is practically melting on him.
Right as sleep pulls you into its grasp, a soft sentence slips past your lips. Barely coherent and understandable but he doesnât have superhearing for nothing. âLove you, my Golden Boy.â
Your Golden Boy. He likes the sound of that.
As Sentry closes his eyes, he hopes you wouldnât mind him taking over your Bob next time. After all, it is unfair for Bob to have you all to himself.
Sentry lets sleep take him too, knowing that Bob will wake in the morning with only memories of this.
Sentry- 1, Bob- 0.
Yeah, he thinks. Heâs a God, so why not keep a fucking tally.
#bob reynolds x reader#bob thunderbolts#bob reynolds#thunderbolts#lewis pullman#sentry x reader#sentry#marvel
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like, okay, i'm sure this scene has been talked about and dissected to pieces already in this fandom but. BUT. i need to put my two cents in or i will explode.
so, your lord and best friend has just admitted to you that if you die, he will be so beside himself with grief that he might just die too.
the game then gives you THIS option in response.
and you, the player, know how video games work. you know this is the press x for romance button. you expect henry to admit his feelingsâa culmination of all the hints he's dropped from the heart options we've chosen beforeâand kiss him as soon as the button's been pressed.
except henry doesn't kiss hans.
instead, henry places his hand on hans' hand. it's the first moment of physical contact between them in the whole scene...but it's not a kiss. it's gentle. it's intimate. it's tiptoeing the line between comforting a friend and something more...
...but henry leaves it at that. and he gets up and goes to leave.
and in that moment of panic. in that split second of 'this might be the last time i'll ever see you again, please don't go' â it's hans that kisses henry.
and it's henry who pushes hans away.
this isâfor all intents and purposesâthe opposite of what we, the player, chose.
and to add insult to injury, henry looks conflicted.
he looks SO conflicted that hans believes he's fucked up royally.
that he has completely tarnished their final moments together by acting on impulseâby giving into temptation and desperation and feelings he can't even put into his own wordsâand henry must be disgusted by him.
and hans believes this because he watches henry turn his back to him. refusing to look at him. and head for the door.
but henry stops before he opens it. and i keep thinking back to the heart option we chose.
the player is not making the choice for henry to kiss hans. we are not forcing his hand.
the player is reminding henry what he's been telling himself throughout the entire game.
don't run away, henry.
kiss him. kiss him back.
so henry does.
#kingdom come deliverance#kcd2#hansry#kcd2 spoilers#hans capon#henry of skalitz#meta#kcd2 meta#video game#my gifs#my post#HI HELLO I COULD WRITE WHOLE ESSAYS ABOUT THIS SCENE#IM LOSING MY GOD DAMN MARBLES#SOMEONE NEEDS TO SEDATE ME#ive seen a few people mention the heart option contradicting what henry does in this moment so i had to expand upon it IMMEDIATELY#i apologize for this long ass post but i HAD to include the gifs as examples lol#was this just an excuse for me to gif this scene? a little bit#am i also here to spread my wavy hair and bearded henry agenda? a little bit
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đđđđđđđđđ
đđđđđđđ ! đđđ đđđđđđ đ đđđđđđđđđ! đđđđđđ â tw: nsfw (?) . MDNI . male lactation
You tried to kick and fight against Briar, but all your feeble efforts were blocked by his disgustingly strong limbs, it pissed you off so bad you could rip that stupid tag off his ear.
Now here you were, sat on his lap like a grumpy kitten. You didnât want this, you swore to yourself that this would never, EVER happen again.
You didnât mean to make the great mistake of saying that you were thirsty, you were out of cartons but still wanted milkâ normal milk. Not milk that your strange genetically flawed cow made! you didnât want anything anymore!!!
Your fists tried to pound against his chest, but the man laughed like you were petting him. He was not affected by your five grams of âstrengthâ and you were deeply wounded by that.
âBriar. If you donât let me go I will cut off your grain supply for the monthââ You were shut up by a large tit forced in your mouth and an enormous hand landing on your head.
âYouâre hangry~ I can tell.. Just let me quench your hunger..â Briar cooed in your ear like a loving mother, his fingers massaging your scalp in a way that almost made you melt in his arms like chocolate left to sit out on a hot day.
No! You had to persevere! You werenât going down like this! You refuse to let yourself be treated likeâlike a babyâ Because you were a full grown adult and you didnât need anyone mothering you!
âmmMMGHââ you choked on his nipple, lukewarm milk landing on your tongue in a thick coat.
âShhh.. Just let mama feed you.â Briar stifled a sigh as he bounced you on his lap gently, making sure to hold you properly so you couldnât escape.
Your hands clawed at his skin, but the damn cow didnât even seem fazed or remotely bothered by your nails. He really thought it was you imprinting on him, you know.. Like branding him as your mommy!
His milk was sweet and silky, smooth on your tongue and easy to digest. You almost choked on his milk, you were basically forced to swallow down the liquid.
This was unnaturalâHe was squirting too much! Your cheeks began to puff up with warm milk, your throat could barely keep up with the sheer volume and frequency at which the lactose content from his chest was coming at.
His savory essence began dribbling down your chin, the liquid going to waste as it went down your neck and pooled in the dip of your collarbone.
Briar held you tighter, suffocating you in pectoral, his other neglected breast kept leaking white, your ears barely catching the soft âdrip dripâ of his milk splashing on the floor.
Too muchâThis was too much. You closed your eyes, tears beginning to bubble on your lash line out of pure despair.
Briar felt intense relief and pleasure, your mouth wrapped around his sensitive bud was a privilege greater than any. His whole body shuddered with joy as he kept you in place, his vision was fogged and lidded, he wanted to be milked dry.
He felt that his right chest had been relieved of most of its added weight, but that didnât mean he was done though. His left chest had yet to feel the toe curling ecstasy from the soft suckles of your mouthâ He needed you, now.
You looked tired, your hand gripped his chest tightly, wringing out the last of substances out his right breast.Â
âB..Briar, Iâm going to⊠ha.. ban you from my bedââ yet again he stuffed his other chest in your mouth. Your stomach felt like it was about to burst, you were being force fed so much milk you were about to explode.
You had no choice but to shove everything deep down, your throat was getting tired, the bottom part of your face was sheening with liquid, the collar of your shirt was bleeding with it.
âSuch a good baby~â the perverted cow praised,  pressing your face deeper into his skin. You were about to bite off his nipple at this point.Â
Your mouth was too full, with a valiant force of your throat you managed to pull the milk down your esophagus. Or so you thought.
Your nose burnt like it was getting set on fire, someone fanning the blazing hell flames in the back of your throat.
Milk spilled out your nose, you managed to pull away with a coughing fit, your nasals felt hot when you finished regurgitating milk through your nose.
âOh! Iâm sorryâ I didnât know I was overwhelming you.â The thick assailant above you said innocently as if he was not at fault for it, asshole. Prick. Slut. He knew what he was doing and wasnât going to pull away unless you sprayed that shit through your nose.
âFâFuhâ *cough* fuck you!â You wiped at your nose with your forearm, pushing him away with your hand while trying to dislodge yourself from his lap.
Stupid himbo. You thought bitterly, fiercely glaring at him through the corner of your eye. He just sat there and smiled, basically glowing.
Briar looked down at his chest, slightly less full than before, a new change being his abnormally puffy nipples, his index pressed against his soft tissue, his spine arching at the delicious sting that came from the contact.
His areolas had deep teeth indents, lovebites from you! Just for him only, to show how much you really love him, he wished that he could replay the memory of you eagerly lapping up his milk like a starved calf.
Briar lifted his head, bleary blues looked for you in the living room, but it was just him, sitting on the couch with a pool of now cold milk on the wooden floor and a painful erection.
âAh! I see! You want to play hide and seek with me, donât you?â Briar clapped his hands together, excited for playtime with his darling, he took care of buttoning his flannel back on correctly, wincing at the feeling of his sensitive nipples brushing against the soft fabric.
You hid in a closet, crossing your fingers and toeâs that Briar never actually found you. You had just gotten your stomach pumped, you didnât want to be squeezed like a dog toy next.
Heavy footfall outside the closet alerted you, accidentally letting out a little gasp. The shadow of a large bull man stopped in front of the door. Shit, he had heard you.
In a sudden movement, he threw the doors of the close wide open, sending a small gust of air your way.
Scared shitless you grabbed onto whatever was closest, but Briar didnât care, he seemed overjoyed that he had found you!
You let out a small scream as he grabbed you like a stuffed animal and held you up in the air.
âFound you!!! Aww.. Poor little thing, you must be all tuckered out from all that milk..â he tilted his head closer to you âLetâs go take a nap together, okay?â He asked in a baby voice, squeezing you with his hands and kissing your face.
You werenât able to say or move as he dragged you upstairs like a prized possession, absolutely getting your face wet with sloppy kisses once again.Â
How did you even end up with a man-thing like him? Oh! Right, because you used to have a heart of gold.
You glared at the obscenely humongous male sitting with you between his legs, his hands were brushing through your hair while rambling on about god-knows-what.
You were so completely and utterly fucked.
#divider by 1999ji#yandere x reader#smilesyanderes#yandere#male yandere#male yandere x reader#smilesanswers#fem reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#yandere male#briarposting
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Zayne: In Heat! (NSFW)
Right Here, Right Now!
Summary: A new sort of Wanderer keeps appearing around Linkon City, sending the Hunters Association into a frenzy trying to figure out just what it does. When killed, it releases some sort of dangerous âpollenâ, but thatâs all youâre really cleared to know - other than the clear warning to get back to headquarters as soon as possible if you are hit. Turns out, thatâs easier said than done.
Warnings: yes this is an A/B/O fic (the demons got me), afab!reader, omega!reader, alpha!characters, heat, swearing, petnames (Zayne calls you "darling" and "wife"), marking/mating, breeding kink (Zayne), office sex, a little bit dubcon!!
This is Zayne's part to this series! Looking for someone else?
Rafayel | Xavier | Caleb
Or use the tag #daisy's series: in heat!
Let me know if you think I missed anything!!
All characters are over 18 :)
â â â
It was a simple mistake, you try and tell yourself. You didnât know the Wanderer was going to explode like that!
But even the simplest of mistakes gets people in your profession killed. Being a Deepspace Hunter, especially a hunter in the UNICORNS unit, meant you couldnât afford to make mistakes, not when other peopleâs lives were on the line.Â
So you donât go back to headquarters, not yet anyhow,heading straight for the hospital instead.
You know for a fact Zayneâs in office tonight, because you were complaining about him cancelling yet again your plans to hang out. He was your best option right now - whatever you got hit with is making you feel all sorts of weird.Â
The first thing you noticed was your vision blurring and your sense of smell dulling; like the world was fading into grey. You smack the side of your head, trying to keep yourself in one piece. The hospital was only two more blocks away, and you couldnât afford to not make it. Even if Zayne didnât know exactly what was happening to you, hopefully he could draw your blood or send you for an eval in one of the other offices. Thereâs no one in your life that you trust quite like Zayne, and youâre certain that he can help you with whatever the hell was going on with you.
The second thing you notice, as you draw nearer to the hospital, is the looks. People always look at you, especially when youâre in your hunterâs uniform, but thereâs somethingâŠdifferent. Some people look sympathetic, like they know something you donât. Others jeer at you, making comments that made you wish you were off the clock right now and could kick their ass. But youâre a professional - so you hold your head high, and you keep moving.
You make it into the clear glass doors of the hospital, and thatâs when the third thing hits - the smell. Your sense of smell had dropped drastically when this âpollenâ had originally got you, but there was a mysterious smell coming from somewhere in the hospital that was calling out to you. It smelled like hot chocolate on a winterâs day, the kind that you have right next to the fireplace after having been outside for too long. It smelled like home, and almost mindlessly, you try to follow it.
Youâre stopped pretty quickly by a nurse, who mutters something about âheatâ and âomegaâ to one of the passing nurses. Youâre led to sit down, but the bright lights of the waiting room are nauseating, and you almost lose your whole lunch as your world spins.
â-you okay? Is there anything we can do for you? If you forgot your heat suppressants, I can direct you to the pharmacy down the street-â
âHeat? What are you talking about?â You respond, snapping your head towards hers, âIâm here to see Dr. Zayne. Heâs my primary care physician? Somethingâs wrong, I just went through a Wanderer attack, and-â
She shushes you, looking over her shoulder (likely for back-up, even you can tell youâre acting a bit crazed right now).
âHoney, youâre in heat. At this point, all we can do is suggest a heat partner. Do you have a ride home?â
You frown, still not understanding. In heat? Youâre a beta, always have been. You donât have to worry about finicky things like âheatsâ or ârutsâ. You move to try and explain this to her, but a voice from behind the nurse cuts you off.
âIs everything alright? What could you possibly be doing here this late - oh.â
Zayneâs voice sends a spike of heat through your body, and you canât help the smallest of whines from slipping out of your mouth. Itâs quiet, but you can tell he hears it, and his whole demeanor shifts.
âDid they tell you what happened?â
The nurse tries to tell Zayne what youâve told her so far, but heâs not actually listening - all of his senses are honed in on you. He notes your symptoms - visible fever, shortness of breath, pupils dilated - and he motions for the nurse to move, offering you an arm.
âTheyâre my patient. Theyâll listen to me,â he tells the nurse, keeping his composure as much as he can.
He wonât tell her that itâs because heâs merely a man, a selfish one at that, and he canât stand the burning looks of the other alphas in the room boring into you. To them, youâre nothing more than a good time, a pretty little omega for them to fuck and move on. Something protective rumbles in his chest before he can stop it. The nurse sends him a skeptical look, about to protest, when you grip on to his extended arm, and oh. Your skin isnât even touching his, and yet itâs like a wet dream come true. You set him alight, and it takes everything in his power not to coo at you as you lean your weight into him.
âZayne, whatâs happening to me?â You sigh, looking up at him with your eyes blown wide.
âLet me get you to my office, okay? I can tell you everything you need to know there, just need to get you away from-â he sends a weary, menacing look to any wandering eyes behind him, â-from all of these heathens.â
âOkay,â you respond, so soft and sweet it sends a sick sort of thrill down Zayneâs spine.
He knows as he leads you to his office itâs a bad idea. He knows, but he canât help himself. Heâll regret it in the morning, but for now? For now, he can have you, his darling, all needy for him in his office. He imagines bending you over every surface of the room, pushing your bare body up against the glass for everybody to see - and heâs already leaking. If you were a well attuned omega, you would be able to smell the lust rolling off of him in waves, but you donât know whatâs happening to you. All you know is that something about Zayne is sending your body into a frenzy, and you want nothing more than to burn under his touch.
Finally, finally, you make it into his office, where he guides you to sit on the couch there. He hovers for a moment, as if contemplating his next move, before leaving you there to lock the door (odd - you donât remember him ever locking the door for your other appointments). Heâs almost on top of you in the next instant, and his scent makes your brain foggy and your limbs heavy. He smells like warmth on a winter day, and youâre acutely aware, if only for a moment, that youâd let him do anything to you.
He reaches out with a hand, tilting your chin up so youâre forced to look up at him. His other hand brushes stray hairs from your face, before falling back to his side. He looks just as crazed as you feel, his pupils swallowing the chocolate brown of his eyes. If it werenât for the lab coat he was wearing, youâd be able to see the wet patch heâs leaving on the front of his slacks, his cock already straining for release.
âSo?â Yyou ask, eyeing him curiously. Youâre a little on edge now, your senses a little sharper.
You may have been hit by something funny, but youâre not stupid. Zayne, in all of his quiet composure, has a tell - the tips of his ears are dusted with a light pink, and he pushes up his glasses not once, but twice (even if theyâre not on his face. It makes you giggle every time). Heâs holding something back, and youâre worried all over again.
Thatâs when a terrible pain rips through your body, like your abdomen is being ripped apart from the inside. It feels like something is trying to claw its way out of you, and a sob wracks your body. Zayne rushes forward as your body goes limp.
âHey, hey, look at me, darling,â he says, urgency lacing his tone.Â
âLook at me.â
The pain ebbs a bit as he nears, but you can still feel the way the pain tears at your stomach. Barely lucid, your weary eyes find his, pleading and wet.
âI can help, okay? Are you okay with me helping? Just let go for me, darling.âÂ
Heâs close - too close - but God, you could care less right now. Thereâs nothing in the room right now but him, in all of his glory, hovering just inches away from you.
You give him the smallest of nods, but itâs enough. Enough for him to spring into action, hand already working at the button of your pants. Youâre so wet with slick that he has to peel them off your skin, but itâs worth it to see you, poised on his work couch in only your underwear.
He thumbs at the waistband of your underwear, fingers dipping under it teasingly.Â
âMay I?â
âY-yeah, yeah, go âhead,â you say back, voice gravelly with want.
But he doesnât take them off like you thought he would - instead, he shoves his face right up against your entrance, lapping at it through the soaked fabric of your underwear. Your hips buck instinctually, and his hands find their way to your thighs, kneading at them. Your legs try to close around his head, but he gives you a warning look over his glasses, and you try your best to keep them spread. A small smirk appears on his face at your obedience, but itâs gone as quickly as it came, because heâs already diving back in for more.
Even through your underwear, he can taste your arousal so potently, coating his tongue like the sweetest ambrosia. Heâs sucking it through your underwear like a pervert. All open-mouthed and nasty, but itâs only making the slick pour from your entrance like a waterfall. Watching the usually cool and collected Zayne fall apart at merely a taste of you was dragging you close to an early edge. His glasses are starting to fog at the heat youâre radiating, but he doesnât care - just dives deeper into you. He wants to taste you on his tongue forever, to keep his pretty, perfect omega satisfied. He doesnât need anything from you, the bulge in his pants meant nothing to him. All he can think about is drawing those sweet little noises from you.
Your hand finds its way to his hair, and in a pleasure-seeking haze, you grind his face into your entrance. He groans, rich and deep, and it sends pleasant shockwaves through your system. Everything is hazy, like youâve stepped into a dream, but you keep rolling your hips against his face, chasing your high. Youâre heavy eyelids lift long enough to catch him staring up at you reverently, glasses askew and foggy, and thatâs all it takes to send you spiralling over the edge. His unabashed worship for you, even now, made you clench around nothing as you came, the universe exploding into a million stars behind your eyes.
Youâre not sure how long it takes for you to come back down, but by the time you do, Zayne has you in his lap, your head resting in the crook of his neck. The sensitive spot just below his ear is where his scent is the strongest, and when your head feels like your own again, you shift to nuzzle your nose into it. When thatâs not enough, you start to nip at his neck, placing gentle kisses between lips. You can hear him exhale through his nose, and you feel the way he stiffens beneath you, trying not to interfere with whatever youâre doing. But heâs just so sensitive, and the little âanh!â that escapes his lips at your ministrations sounds almost like a whine.
âAre-mnph-are you feeling-ah-better?â He stutters out, his whole body weak to your touch.
âMhm,â you mumble out against his neck, still not quite sure what youâre doing.
All you know is that he smells intoxicating, and you need more of him. You want to feel every inch of his skin against yours, want to cut him open and crawl inside of his skin so you can feel him everywhere. It makes you sick just how badly you yearn for him at this moment, and you bite down a little harder at the soft flesh of Zayneâs neck, grinning against his skin when his hips buck up against you.
âMine.â You declare, before you can stop it.
It feels so natural, to call him yours. Almost like itâs always been that way. It twists your gut in a way you donât understand, so you donât try to. Instead, you lean back, taking in Zayne under you.
Heâs flushed, a pretty red that spreads all the way from his cheeks down his neck, and he looks like your wettest dreams. Heâs gnawing at his lip as he looks up at you so prettily, and your eyes flick down to them - a question. As you lean in, you give him enough time to back out, but he sinks into you instead, meeting your lips halfway. Itâs a juxtaposition to the filthiness that went on earlier, the way he kisses you like youâre something delicate. You can still taste the hints of yourself on his tongue, and it makes you melt against him, fingers tangling into the short hair at the back of his neck. The moment shifts, and everything starts to feel more intimate. With the worst of the pain gone, you realize this is Zayne, your Zayne, the one who made you little snow seals when the seals at the aquarium made you feel bad. The one who texts you to make sure youâve eaten lunch, and to make sure youâre not overworking yourself (to which you usually respond âhypocriteâ, which shuts him up awful fast). Youâre overwhelmed with something akin to embarrassment, and you pull away.
âAre you okay, darling?â He searches your face, concern written all over his expression. âIs there anything else I can do for you?â
You hum, a noncommittal thing, still too embarrassed to properly look him in the eyes. He huffs, and squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, dragging you so close that your forehead knocks against his.
âTalk to me.â
Itâs not a question, this time. Itâs a command, and heat sparks in your stomach anew.
âI justâŠâm sorry I dragged you into whatever this is,â you say, unsure of yourself.Â
âI know this is probably just work to you, but-â
âItâs never just work with you.â
He says it with such sincerity you canât help but lean in to kiss him again, short and chaste. You hope he can feel your love in every move you make against him, that this means something more than just sex to you.Â
And then it hits again - that twisting heat in your abdomen, like a punch to your stomach. Itâs less bad, now that youâre pressed against Zayne, but it still makes you hiss, hand moving to put pressure on your stomach. He moves to pull you closer, looking down at your shaking frame.
âAnything you need, darling. Anything.â
So you beg. You plead until all thatâs left of your voice is wispy breaths. Youâre not even quite sure what youâre saying anymore, overwhelmed by the raw need to feel him fill you up, to have him carve the shape of himself into you. Your lips find his neck again, and your hands fumble for his belt, buried under the thick weight of his lab coat. His thighs twitch underneath you, and you shift just enough to yank his pants and boxers to his mid-thigh, enough for his cock to spring out of its confines. It smacks heavily against his black button-up, and god, is it glorious.
Heâs impressive in length and in girth, the kind of thickness that would just split you apart if you werenât already dripping for him. A lone blue vein runs up the underside of his cock, prominent and glistening with his own precum.You can feel your mouth watering at the idea of tracing it with your tongue. But when you go to slide off of Zayne to do so, his fingers find purchase on your hips, dragging your dripping heat to rest just over his leaking cock. You both groan at the contact, and you canât help but press down into him, catching your clit right on the throbbing head of his dick. Heat overtakes your body, and your hips canât help themselves as they began to rut down into him, your body begging you for more.
âI-fuck-I need tâfeel you, need it, alpha,â you pant out, already forgetting your desire to taste him.
His eyes roll back in his head, fingers digging into the meat of your hips, hard enough to bruise. Something inside of you purrs at the idea of him marking you up with the kind of bruises that leave no doubts about what happened tonight.
âDarling I-hngh!-canât hold b-back anymore,â Zayne starts, heaving as your hips refuse to slow down, âI have to have you. Can I? Please, can I have you?â
You can barely nod before an obscene rip echoes in the room. Between Zayneâs fingers is the tattered remains of your underwear, a lewd string of slick connecting it to your entrance still. You watch in awe as he presses the ripped fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. His tongue darts out, and a groan rumbles out of his chest when he gets another taste of your slick, his dick twitching pathetically against your now bare entrance.Â
And when his tip just barely catches against your entrance? Itâs over, his cock already spurting hot cum against you, coating his abdomen.Â
âW-what a waste, darling,â he murmurs, muffled by the underwear still pressed to his face. âShould-hah-shouldâve been i-inside.â
And his free hand moves from its place on your hip down to his release, scooping up some of the sticky mess onto his fingers. Before you have a chance to question him, heâs pressing his fingers to your entrance, forcing his cum inside of you. The feeling of his thick fingers stretching your entrance has your head falling back and your mouth falling open in a silent scream. His fingers reach so deep, and you wonder, briefly, if youâll even be able to take his cock. They escape your entrance once again, just to messily smear more cum into your hole, mean and unforgiving.Â
If you werenât so lost in your own pleasure, youâd be able to see how Zayne couldnât look away from your entrance, now dripping with a mix of your slick and his release. He was hypnotized by the way you canât help but grind down on his fingers, begging for more of him. He curls them just right, and his breath catches in his throat when you fall forward into him, moaning out his name. No pleas, no âalpha!â, just Zayne.
A sick, twisted part of him hopes it takes. He can already see it - how beautiful youâd be all round and heavy with his pups - and it makes him burlly another finger into your entrance, trying to dig his cum deeper into you. All he can think about is you, his sweet little darling, all powerful and strong, reduced to his little housewife.
âCanât take it anymore,â you whine, snapping him out of his perverted daydream. âWant your knot, want to feel you fill me up, please.â
And something mean twists in Zayneâs gut, something sharp twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at you. He slips the tattered underwear into the pocket of his lab coat, and his now freed hand moves to tilt your head to look at him.
âAre you sure, darling? Iâm not sure I believe you,â he responds, eyes glowing with mirth, âBeg for it.â
What a cruel alpha he is, making a heat-riddled omega beg for his cock. But the idea of him not filling you up sends you into a frenzy, frantic pleas falling from your mouth as you squeeze around his fingers pathetically.
âNo, no! Need it, promise I do. C-canât you feel how-ahn!-wet I am? Please, âm drippinâ for you, need to feel your cock fill me up, need you to mark me as yours-uhn! Iâm yours, arenât I, Zayne?â
At the sound of his name, so sweet falling from your lips, Zayne rips his fingers from your entrance, fumbling to grasp at the base of his aching dick. Itâs flushed red and heâs not sure how long heâs going to last inside of you when youâre looking at him like that. Like heâs the only thing left in the world, like you love him.
But neither of you can even think once his cock slides into your entrance. No amount of fingering could have prepared you for just how thick he truly was, and tears bead at the corners of your eyes at the stretch. And it just keeps going, keeps sinking into your heat until you feel him all the way in your stomach. His tip is kissing your cervix so sloppily, and it makes your walls clench around him.
And suddenly youâre in the air. Youâre dizzy and disoriented as you move, his dick sliding impossibly deeper in a way that has your legs locking behind his back, keeping him there. His teeth dig into your shoulder at that, trying to keep his sounds down, but itâs impossible when you just feel so good.
With one hand, Zayne balances you against his body, and with the other, he sweeps the papers and trinkets off of his desk, not caring where they end up. He cradles your head as he drops your back to meet the cold surface of his desk, always worried about your safety, even when heâs balls deep in you. It makes your heart squeeze in your chest, an unfamiliar warmth flooding your body.
You donât have much time to think, though, before heâs pulling his hips back until only his tip is still inside you. He stays there for a moment, loving the way you pulse around his sensitive head, before his self-control fully snaps, and heâs bucking into you wildly. The desk creaks under you, shifting under the raw power of Zayneâs thrusts, until you hear it roughly thunk against the wall.Â
Youâre certain the whole wing can hear you two, bodies sliding and humping at each other like animals, but you donât care, not when his cock is slamming into that spot that makes you see stars. Your body surrenders to the heat overtaking it, surrenders to him, and youâre limp in his hold, forced to take until your body is satisfied.
âZ-Zayne, mark, pl-uhn-please?â You beg between moans.
And this isnât really consent, not when youâre so deep in an unfamiliar heat, and the back of Zayneâs mind is screaming at him to stop, donât give in. But when your head falls to the side, baring your neck to him so submissively, how was he ever supposed to resist?
His canines sink into the delicate flesh of your skin, right in the juncture where your scent gland rests, and itâs like fireworks explode behind your eyes. It feels like your souls are intertwining, a metaphysical connection that fills your entire being with the warmth of a thousand suns. Your body convulses under him, but that just makes him dig his teeth into your skin harder, the metallic taste of your blood filling his mouth. Only when your convulsing turns into weak twitching does Zayneâs jaw unlock. He presses gentle kisses into your shoulder, licking at the blood dripping from his mark, unable to stop his hips from still bucking into your sensitive body.
âYouâre mine, mine, you hear me?â He babbles, not even realizing heâs saying anything at all.
âMy omega, my perfect little darling, a-arenât you? Fuck, âm gonna fill you up so good, make you-mhm-round with my pups, make you a pretty momma, knot you again and again and again until i-it takes. Do you-hah-want that, darling? Want to be my perfect little wife?â
Your head is filled with cotton and your limbs donât feel like theyâre even yours anymore, but you blink your weary eyes up at Zayne. His silhouette is blurry from the tears you canât seem to control, but even blurred heâs still a sight to behold.
His glasses are barely still on his face, askew and only really still hooked on one of his ears. Heâs still almost fully dressed, but his collar is mussed, and his pants and boxers have made their way around his ankles. His belt, still looped through his pants, clanks against the floor with every harsh thrust of Zayneâs hips, mixing into the symphony of moans and squelches filling his office.Â
Itâs obscene and sloppy, everything is dishevelled in a way that is so markedly not Zayne, but it makes you clench around him nonetheless. Only you get to see him like this, make him like this. It sends a thrill down your spine, and a rush of heat floods your abdomen, your walls fluttering around Zayneâs girth.Â
âDarling, darling, feel so good for me, are you going to let go? Let go, let me feel you cum around me.â Zayne coos, looking down at you adoringly.
You frantically shake your head. Youâre close, unbearably so, but you want-need Zayne to come undone with you. So you lift your feeble hands to grip at the hair at the back of Zayneâs neck and to pull his collar to the side. With the last of your strength, you yank him down to you, right into your eager mouth. He gasps as your teeth sink into his scent gland, and thatâs all it takes - the base of his cock swells, and you can feel his knot start to take. The pathetic whimper that escapes Zayneâs mouth as your teeth sink deeper into his skin is enough to tip you off the edge, and you cum hard, biting into Zayneâs neck in a weak attempt to muffle your noises. It doesnât matter anymore, really - the slam of the desk against the wall and the wailing you did earlier was certainly enough to tip anyone off to what was happening in here. But as you start to come back down to Earth, a wave of embarrassment overcomes you. This was your best friend. You just had sex - you just mated - your best friend, and an embarrassing part of you doesnât even care. Youâve just claimed and marked the illustrious Doctor Zayne as yours, and heâs going to have to walk around the hospital after this, smelling like you and wearing your mark on his gland.
âItâs going to be a while before my knot goes down.â Zayne says, his voice still strained but mostly back to his normal matter-of-fact tone.
His knot. It all floods back to you - how you pleaded for his knot, how you begged him to mark you - and you fluster under his watchful eye.
âIâm sorry,â you mutter, still unable to really even look at him, âI shouldnât have forced you to do this, toâŠto mark me.â
You say it with so much contempt that it makes the ever-stoic Zayne frown, concern written in the creasing of his eyebrows. The hand thumbing at your hip moves to cradle your face, and he leans closer to you, wincing at the way his sensitive cock shifts inside of your gummy walls.
âDo youâŠâ he ponders for a moment, âDo you regret it?â
He looks at you, searching your eyes for even a hint of anger at him, but all he finds is guilt. Like somehow you were at fault for all of the sick things Zayne did to you when you didnât know what was happening to you. It makes something in his stomach flip, sadistic and cruel. You were so sweet, thinking that any of this was somehow your fault, and it makes him want to bite into your scent gland all over again. It was likely that the effect of whatever hit you would soon fade, but a little voice in the back of his head hopes that the mark he left doesnât fade with it. That when you have to go back to work, all of the people that so much as glance at you can tell that youâre his, that youâre off-limits forever. In every lifetime, heâs given himself up to get even a taste of your love, and a certainty settles into his gut that heâll never be able to let you go again, not after heâs had you.
âDoâŠdo you regret it?â You ask, still carrying that heavy guilt in your eyes.
âOf course not,â Zayne responds, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, âI could never regret anything if itâs with you.â
â â â
ehehe thank you for reading!!! I don't have a sylus part planned, buuuut if anybody wants it please let me know! I just unlocked him and I wouldn't be opposed...
(also if you have other ideas for LADS send them in! I am so feral about them right now I will write just about anything)
#daisy writes<3#daisy's series: in heat!#lads smut#love and deepspace smut#lads a/b/o#a/b/o#omegaverse#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#zayne smut#zayne x reader#yes i'm on my freak shit again i'm so sorry
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Ateez members when you squirt. Ft maknae line
Including: San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho x fem!reader (all separate!)
Warnings: porn no plot, Squirting, nasty nasty nasty, degradation, dirty talk, use of names (slut), mention of passing out but you don't (San) cocky!wooyoung, size kink (mingi), oral (f, mingi and wooyoung), like one pussy slap (wooyoung), daddy kink (mingi and wooyoung), this is just messy and nasty I didn't proofread so lmk if I missed anything!
Authors note: English isn't my first language. I think I went overboard . . . Especially with mingis đđđ„Žđ„Ž

San.
âAgain,â he growls, breath hot against your shoulder as he slams his hips into yours with bruising force. âFucking again, babyâdonât stop now.â
You canât. Youâre sobbing, face twisted in pure overstimulated bliss, thighs twitching, soaked and ruined and trembling as another gush of wetness sprays out from between your legs.
âOhhh fuckâthere it is,â San groans, head thrown back, hips grinding through it like heâs ossessed. âThatâs it, baby. Made a fuckinâ mess for me, huh?â
You try to answer, but you canât form a single coherent thought. Your eyes roll. Your fingers claw uselessly at the sheets beneath you.
San just laughs. Itâs feralâguttural.
âDumb little thing,â he snarls, reaching down to slap your twitching clit, watching your whole body spasm from it. âYou like being fucked stupid, donât you?â
You nod. Barely. More of a shake. Your lips part to speakânothing comes out but a whimper.
âI said donât stop.â
He flips you onto your back, grabs both your ankles and spreads you wide, cock already rock-hard again despite the fact he just emptied himself inside you not even two minutes ago.
âYou thought I was done? You thought one little squirt show was gonna be enough?â
He lines up again, sinks in without warning. No mercy. You scream.
âFucking tight,â he hisses. âYouâre still squeezing me like you donât wanna let go.â
Your entire body jerks. Nails digging into the mattress.
He leans down until heâs nose-to-nose with you. Grabs your jaw hard enough to ache. Forces you to look at him.
âEyes on me, baby. Wanna see how dumb you look when you come.â
Your lashes flutter. Your lip quivers. He starts pounding into you like he wants to break the bedâslamming his hips, skin clapping against yours, sweat dripping from his forehead to your chest.
âSanâSannie pleaseâI-I canâtâ!â
âYou can.â
He presses his hand to your lower tummy, feels how swollen and full you are.
âFeel that?â he grunts. âThatâs me. Right there. So deep inside Iâm practically part of you.â
He fucks deeper. Harder. Faster.
âYouâre gonna squirt again. Youâre gonna cover my cock, the sheets, everything. Make a mess like the filthy little slut you are.â
Youâre wailing now, words melting into cries and breathless mewls. He snakes a hand up to your throat, squeezes just enough to make the edge of panic blur with the pleasure.
And thenâ
âFuckâyes,â he growls. âThere it is. Pretty little pussy fuckinâ exploding for meâholy shitâlook at that.â
You squirt so hard it splashes against his thighs. He doesnât even stop. He shoves your knees to your chest and keeps fucking through it, watching your face twist, your mouth open wide in a soundless scream.
âAgain,â he spits. âFucking again.â
You canât even fight it. Your body obeys him before your brain can catch up. Another wave crashes over youâwet, hot, helpless.
He moans loud, cock throbbing deep inside you. âYouâre mine. You get that?â
You whimper. âY-YesâSanâfuckâyoursââ
He bites your neck. Hard. âSay it.â
âYours! Iâm yoursâIâm only yoursââ
He kisses you like heâs trying to consume you.
Then he pulls out, drags you to your knees by your hair, and shoves his cock back into your ruined cunt from behindâstill gushing, still twitching.
âGood fucking girl,â he growls. âNow keep squirting until you pass out.â

Mingi.
Heâd been down there for a while.
Palms spreading your thighs wide, tongue lazily lapping at your clit like it was breakfast, chin shiny and eyes half-lidded in pure obsession. Youâd lost count of how many times your hips bucked or how many times his tongue teased your folds before dipping inâdeeper, deeper, until your whole body was convulsing.
âMingi, waitâfuck, Iâsomethingâsââ
Thatâs all it takes. The tremble in your thighs, the way your belly tightensâŠ
And then it happens.
Your body arches, the pressure snaps, and a sudden wet gush bursts from youâhot and clear and everywhere.
âOhâŠâ Mingi stops, stunned for a second. His mouth parts, brows lifting slightly as he pulls back to look. Your thighs are soaked. His face is drenched.
Then:
ââŠHoly shit.â
He grins. Wildly. Tongue darts out to taste you againâlicking his cheeks where the mess landed.
âBabyâŠâ His voice drops lower, cock already rock hard against the bed. âYou never told me you could do that.â
You whimper, dazed, humiliated, but so high on it you can barely think.
âIâMingi, I didnâtâIâve neverââ
He growls. Thatâs the only word for it. Like you just unlocked a kink he didnât even know he had.
âFuck, youâre unreal.â
And then heâs on you.
Flicking your clit, tongue rolling filthy patterns over your overstimulated cunt, groaning against your skin like heâs starving. His big hands are clutching your hips down so hard it stings.
You squirt again. And again. Itâs automatic nowâhe demands it.
âMmhmm, thatâs it⊠so fuckinâ wet for me.â
Youâre barely breathing when he finally lifts his head, face dripping, lips swollen and red, pupils blown. Heâs panting.
âYouâre a goddamn fountain.â
He strokes his cock, lets it slap against your slit. âWanna see if this pretty pussy squirts like that with my cock too.â
You moan. Shake your head. âMingi, youâre too big, I canâtââ
âOh baby.â He leans down, voice a whisper, thick tip teasing your entrance. âYouâre gonna take it.â
He starts slow. Just the tip. Then another inch. And another. Youâre already clawing at his arms, panting, your eyes rolling.
âFuck,â he hisses. âSo tight. I can feel your heartbeat in this cunt.â
He bottoms out with a brutal thrust. Your body jerks. And he laughs.
âYouâre so full, huh?â
You sob. âC-CanâtâMingiâtoo muchâtoo deepââ
He cups your cheek. Kisses you softly. Then ruins you again.
His hips slam into yours at a vicious rhythm, skin slapping, the sound of wet squelching echoing off the walls. Heâs obsessedâwatching your pussy swallow every inch of his thick cock, watching how each thrust pushes more slick out of you.
âYou gonna squirt on my dick, baby?â he groans. âGonna soak me like you did my fuckinâ face?â
You do. Screaming his name, gushing hard enough to leave his lower abs dripping.
He doesnât stop. Wonât let you come down.
âShiiit, youâre fuckinâ gushing,â he moans. âLook at this mess. Look what you did.â
You cry out. Your body convulses. Another orgasm barrels through you like a freight train.
He pulls you up by your waist, fucks you like a ragdoll, moaning into your neck, whispering filth between praises.
âDirty little thing⊠makinâ a mess all over daddyâs cock like you need to be ruined.â
Youâre babbling nowânothing makes sense. âMhmâMingiiiâahâfâso goodâfeelsâahâf-fuck!â
He bites your shoulder. âYou love it.â
You nod wildly.
He grabs your face again, eyes dark. âThen squirt for me again, baby. Right now.â

Wooyoung.
âAlready?â He says it with a cocky laugh, like watching you tremble under his mouth is funny to him. Your thighs are clenching around his head, stomach twitching, and you canât breathe through the sounds youâre making.
âMmhâfuck, Wooâah, Iâ!â
He pulls back with a string of spit clinging to his lips, face glossy, tongue dragging over the corner of his mouth like heâs still hungry.
âGod, listen to yourself. Youâre gasping like you just ran a mile.â He rolls his eyes, leans down, slaps your pussy lightly with two fingers. You jolt.
âThis got you that fucked up? From just my tongue?â He smirks, tapping your clit with lazy precision. âWhatâs gonna happen when I put my cock in, huh?â
âD-Donât say shit like thatââ
âWhy not?â He spits directly on your folds, lets it drip down before rubbing it in with his thumb. âGonna make you squirt, pretty girl. Wanna see how fucking messy I can get you.â
And then heâs diving back in.
Tongue rapid, focused, filthyâlike he knows exactly what your body needs before you do. He groans deep against your cunt like itâs his favorite meal, and your hips jerk off the bed.
You feel it coil in your stomach again, tight and terrifying.
âW-Woo, wait, I think Iââ
He doesnât stop. Doesnât care. He wraps an arm around your thighs to lock you down and moans loud into your clit. Thatâs what pushes it over.
You squirt. Hard.
Gushing up into his mouth, thighs convulsing, head tossing back into the pillows as you scream. He keeps going. Licks it up, grinds his chin into your pussy, rubs you through it like heâs got something to prove.
âFucking knew it,â he pants, chin soaked, fingers already replacing his mouth. âThatâs it, messy girl. Drip for me.â
You try to close your legs, overwhelmed. He slaps your inner thigh.
âKeep âem open. Donât be shy now.â
And then? Then he fucks you with his fingers until you squirt again.
Youâre crying. Moaning slurred nonsense into your forearm as your thighs tremble.
âOh, poor babyâŠâ he coos, fake pout on his lips. âToo much for your dumb little pussy?â
Your only reply is a hiccuped whine.
âYeah, I thought so.â He sits up, starts unbuckling his belt. âAnd nowâŠâ
He slaps his fat cock against your overstimulated slit, groaning when it twitches from the contact.
âNow I fuck you stupid.â
You scream his name. Again and again. You lose track of time, lose count of how many times he makes you squirt, how many times he moans right in your face, laughing when you canât form full sentences.
âW-Woo⊠ngh, c-canâtâd-daddy pleaseâ!â
âShhh, youâre fine. Just a dumb little slut with a squirty little pussy, huh?â
He grabs your face, shoves two fingers in your mouth and spits on your tongue.
âNow take it.â

Jongho.
âYou didnât tell me you could do that,â Jongho mutters, voice lowâdangerousâas he stares down at your soaked thighs.
Your chest is heaving, whole body trembling. Youâre still recovering from itâyour orgasm, your releaseâyour squirt.
It had surprised even you.
One moment his thick fingers were pumping slow and steady into your cuntâpressing right there, right thereâand the next? You were shaking, crying, spraying his hand, his wrist, the sheets under you, everything.
And Jongho hasnât said much since. Just breathing. Watching. Processing.
Then he wipes his soaked fingers on your inner thigh.
âYouâre going to do that again,â he says flatly. Not a suggestion. Not a request. A command.
You whimper. âI⊠I donât thinkââ
His hand snaps around your jaw.
âI didnât ask you what you think.â
He grabs you by the waist, flips you like youâre weightless. You gasp. He pulls you into his lapâhis cock already achingly hard, thick against your soaked folds.
Then, with terrifying calm, he slides in.
You scream.
Not loud. But wrecked. Like your body canât decide whether to panic or worship him.
Jongho groans low in his throat. Hands gripping your hips so tight it hurts.
âYou squirted all over my fingers. Letâs see if I can make you do it on my cock.â
He doesnât move at firstâjust sinks in deeper. Slow. Unbearable. Stretching you open inch by inch until your mouth falls open in a silent moan.
Then he grinds.
Your body jerks.
âOhhhâJongho, Iââ
âEyes on me.â
His hand fists your hair, pulls your head back until youâre forced to meet his gaze.
âNo hiding,â he whispers. âYouâre going to look me in the eyes while I ruin you.â
Thenâhe fucks you.
Hard. Precise. Deliberate. Each thrust perfectly angled to bully your sweet spot, to force a reaction out of you.
Youâre gasping, sobbingâfingers gripping his arms like a lifeline.
Jonghoâs not sweating. Not moaning. Just breathing. Focused. Like heâs studying you.
âYouâre going to do it again,â he murmurs. âI can feel it. Youâre pulsing.â
You cry out. Your legs are shaking.
âSay thank you.â
âW-Whatâ?â
Smack. His hand lands on your assâhard.
âSay thank you for your cock.â
âTh-thank you! Ohmygod, thank youâ!â
Thenâyou snap. Again.
A burst of slick soaks his thighs, your body twitching uncontrollably.
And Jongho smiles.
Dark. Satisfied.
âI knew you could.â
He pulls outâjust to slam back in. You wail.
âN-Not again, I canâtâ!â
âYou can. You will.â
And he keeps fucking you. Pushing. Over and over.
Until your voice breaks. Until your body stops responding.
And when you finally pass out in his arms, he kisses your forehead.
âNext time, I want three.â
Writing by @lustlvii please do not translate or publish anywhere
#© lustlvii#ateez hard hours#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#ateez#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#ateez maknae line
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The Shower Show (m)
synopsis. A lot happens when you find out that your horny housemate is taking a shower in your bathroom and the worst way to find out is when you walk in on him naked in the shower.
genre: 18+, cringe, comedy, mature, crack
pairing: roommate jungkook x female!reader
warnings: shĂŽwĂȘr wĂąrs, rĂŽĂŽmĂątĂȘs tĂ»rñĂȘd chùÎtĂźc fĂŽĂȘs, jûñgkĂŽĂŽk bĂȘßñg Ăą flĂźrty lĂźttlĂȘ shĂźt, tĂŽwĂȘl drĂąmĂą, bĂźg d sĂ©lf-hypĂȘ, ĂźnĂąpproprßùtĂȘ shĂŽwĂȘr sĂȘx rĂȘfĂȘrĂȘñcĂȘs, dĂźrtĂż jĂŽkĂȘs, thrĂŽwßñg shĂąmpĂŽĂŽ Ăąs Ăą wĂȘĂąpÎñ, sĂȘxûùl tĂȘñsßÎñ bĂąt nĂł shĂŽwĂȘr shĂąrßñg (fĂŽr ñÎw).
note. Besties heâs here to torture you again.. I bet youâve missed him, but letâs see share your feedback. Please give me everything. ENJOY. I just want to thank JK for this GIF because it fits so well đ also GIF credits to owner. I found this on Pinterest.
âąâąâą
The bathroom door is open.
The shower is running.
The universe is testing your patience.
You stand frozen in the doorway, towel slung over your shoulder, brain cells malfunctioning as you process whatâs happening.
Jungkook. Your roommate. Your personal headache. Your walking HR violation.
In your shower.
Naked.
Steam curls around his body, clinging to the obscene lines of his back, his unholy shoulders flexing as he runs shampoo through his hair, completely unaware of your presence.
Until he hums.
Not just any hum.
A deep, throaty, sinful hum.
Like heâs enjoying himself too much. Like heâs two seconds away from making the type of noise that would get this entire building evicted.
Your eye twitches.
âJEON JUNGKOOK.â
He jumps. Actually yelps. And thenâhe turns.
You see everything.
Then you see nothing because your soul leaves your body.
âOh,â Jungkook breathes, completely shameless, absolutely evil. His hair is soaked, water dripping from his stupidly pretty face, rolling down his obnoxiously chiseled chest and lowerâ
You look lower.
Mistake.
The steam is not covering enough.
Jungkook grins.
âHey,â he says, like this is normal. Like heâs not standing there, dick swinging, looking like a Greek god sculpted by the hands of sin itself.
Your brain malfunctions.
âWHY THE FUCK ARE YOU IN MY SHOWER?!â
Jungkook just shrugs. âYours has better pressure.â
Better pressure.
Better pressure.
Better fucking pressure.
Like that is a valid reason to traumatize you before 8 AM.
âJungkook,â you seethe, gripping the doorframe so tight it might snap. âGet. Out.â
He pouts. âBabe, donât be like that.â
âWE ARE NOT DATING.â
Jungkook tilts his head. Smirks. Drops his voice.
âBut youâve thought about it.â
Your soul glitches.
âIâ WHAT?!â
âI mean,â he hums, so casual, so dangerous, âyouâve definitely thought about me naked before. So this is, like, a dream come true, right?â
Your sanity explodes.
âJungkook,â you hiss, âthe only dream Iâve ever had about you is me strangling you to death.â
He grins. âKinky.â
âTHAT IS NOTâ;â
âYou shouldâve told me earlier, baby. I wouldâve let you tie me up.â
âIâM GOING TO KILL YOU.â
Jungkook just laughs, shaking his head, completely unbothered, completely insufferable.
And the actual worst part?
He doesnât even stop showering. He just turns back around, casually flexing, running his hands through his hair like heâs doing an audition for a porn parody of an Old Spice commercial.
Your life flashes before your eyes.
âDamn,â Jungkook sighs, glancing over his shoulder, grinning so hard it hurts. âWanna hand me the body wash, babe? You can get real up close and personal.â
âI WILL THROW IT AT YOUR HEAD.â
âMm.â He smirks. âDo it. I like it rough.â
You black out.
The next thing you know, a bottle of shampoo is flying across the room.
Jungkook dodges. Laughs. âOoh, feisty.â
You are going to prison.
âYouâre seriously not leaving?â you demand.
Jungkook just leans against the wall, completely naked, completely hardheaded, and possibly just hard at this point.
âWhy would I?â he smirks, tilting his hips slightly, watching your eyes flicker down involuntarily.
Fuck.
Fuck.
You looked again.
And he knows it.
Jungkook grins. âWanna touch it?â
You make a strangled noise.
âIâEXCUSE ME?!â
âWhat?â He grins wider, stretching, flexing, committing war crimes against your sanity. âItâs really nice. People say I should charge.â
Your brain ceases to function.
âIâWHAT PEOPLE?!â
Jungkook shrugs, completely casual. âYâknow. The lucky ones.â
Your life is over.
You should leave. You should run.
But youâre too furious, too flustered, too weak in the knees to even move.
Jungkook notices. Oh, he notices.
âDamn,â he murmurs, eyes dropping to your very obvious reaction, his voice dropping even lower. âYouâre really into this, huh?â
You sputter.
âIâNO?!â
Jungkook clicks his tongue. âBabe, youâre standing there watching me like Iâm the main course at a five-star restaurant.â
Your soul leaves your body.
âJUNGKOOK.â
âYou wanna ride me so badââ
âI WILL KILL YOU.â
He laughs. Laughs. Like this is fun for him. Like heâs living his best life while you suffer.
And then. Oh.
Oh.
The real war begins.
Jungkook leans back. Smirks. And then drops the bomb.
âYou know,â he purrs, so cocky, so smug, so filthy,
âshower sex is scientifically proven to be good for your health.â
Your entire body malfunctions.
âEXCUSE ME?!â
âItâs efficient,â he winks. âGets you clean and gets you off. Two birds, one very lucky stone.â
Your soul ascends.
âIâWHAT THE HELLâ;â
Jungkook tuts, shaking his head. âDamn, no wonder youâre so grumpy all the time.â
You malfunction.
âYâknow,â he continues, completely evil, completely Jungkook, âI could totally help you out.â
Your brain combusts.
âYOU ARE A DEMON.â
âOr,â he grins, so sinful, so smug, âIâm just really good at what I do.â
You cannot breathe.
Jungkook tilts his head, all fake innocence, all filthy intent.
âYouâre curious now, arenât you?â
You launch the showerhead at his face.
Bestie, you want filthy? Youâre getting filthy.
âOUT.â
Youâre dripping wet, the bathroom is steaming up, and Jungkook? Still standing there, looking entirely too entertained.
âIn a second,â he shrugs, leaning against the doorframe like heâs got all the time in the world.
âNow.â You point at the door with all the authority you can muster while wrapped in a damp towel.
But Jungkook? He just grins.
âDamn, babe, youâre really gonna throw me out when Iâm standing here, fully clothed, knowing damn well you just got all wet and needyââ
âJungkook.â
ââAnd naked.â
You whip a bottle of conditioner at his head. He dodges, but barely.
âYouâre disgusting.â
âAnd youâre in denial.â He tilts his head, all faux innocence.
âYou sure you donât wanna share? Itâs an efficient way to save water. And time.â
âGET OUT.â
He scoffs. âYou act like I havenât seen tits before.â
âNot mine.â
âYet.â
You stare. âJungkook. I will kill you.â
He bites his lip like heâs thinking. âDamn, at least let me die with a good visual.â
You grab the showerhead.
âOkay, okay..â he laughs, hands up, but his eyes are shamelessly raking over your barely-covered figure. âYou donât have to be shy, babe. Weâre roommates. We share everything.â
âNot this.â
âCâmon,â he grins. âItâs not my fault Iâm built for shower sex.â
You gape. âBuilt forâwhat the fuck?â
âI mean, youâve seen my thighs.â He gestures to himself, completely dead serious.
âPerfect for bracing you against the wall, if you think about it.â
Your brain is short-circuiting.
âOh my fucking goodness.â
âAnd donât even get me started on my stamina,â he continues, absolutely shameless. âI could make youâ;â
The shampoo bottle goes flying.
Jungkook DIPS.
He books it out of the bathroom, laughing his ass off, knowing damn well youâre about two seconds away from actual murder.
Fucker.
#jungkook smut#bts smut#jjk smut#yandere bts#yandere jungkook#yandere smut#smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jungkook imagine#jjk ff#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jungkook ff#Jungkook fanfiction#jungkook fanfic#yandere jjk#jungkook fluff#jjk fluff#jeongguk smut#yandere x reader#jjk x fluff#kpop fluff#jeongguk x reader#jeon jungkook#jungkook
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You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno-Â
Could you start at the beginning?
Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets seeâŠ
Take your time.Â
Woof. Lets seeâŠI started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runninâ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party.Â
Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants?Â
I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop.Â
You mean an agent of the FDA?Â
No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial.Â
And you tried it?
Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up.Â
Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time?Â
At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didnât know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didnât happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants.Â
Accountants?
Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See, Iâm really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. Youâre waterâs best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldnât get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in.Â
What got you using regularly?Â
Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier.Â
How so?
You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its likeâŠIts like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You canât ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you canât see anything else. Or. No. Its likeâŠYou see that you donât need to see anything else. Money is everything. Youâre money. Iâm money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything.Â
By 1973 you were a regular user yes?
Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. âRegular user.â 76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadnât stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit?Â
Would you like to discuss the raid?Â
No. Not really.Â
I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene.Â
I don't want to talk about it.Â
Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed.Â
Alright alright, Christ.Â
Please. In your own words.Â
From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was likeâŠ
The raid, please.Â
I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up.Â
It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home.Â
Your statement alluded to some additional information.Â
YeahâŠthere was something else⊠I dunno how to describe it. The fuckinâŠeyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seeinâ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. OrâŠno. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something.Â
What exactly is that?
I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit.Â
I'm sorry?Â
Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun.
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hii, i would love for you to do âthe prophecyâ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much đ
The Prophecy | F.W.



summary: fredâs starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawneyâs reading doesnât make it any better.
pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader
includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end
a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if itâs not up to the usual standards đ
One, two. One, two, three, four.
You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawneyâs stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasnât a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.
As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.
She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.
âMy dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.â She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. âExpect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.â
Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.
Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.
Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual â Ravenclaw, through and through â and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.
However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words â which you thought was utter rubbish.
When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.
Which it wasn't.
Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.
You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap â although they weren't very subtle with it.
The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.
George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.
"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.
"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.
You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.
Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.
You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.
The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.
You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.
The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.
Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.
As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didnât have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.
Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.
"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."
Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him couldâve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two â almost three â weeks.â
Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?
"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because â " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."
Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?â
"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."
You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"
"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."
Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone â â
He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."
Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.
Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.
This wasnât the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasnât good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldnât change it for the world.
âFreddieâŠâ You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. âI don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.â
He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.
You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."
When he didnât say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.
"Fred â?â
"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."
You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."
You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"
"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."
"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. âDonât you ever forget that.â
©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
#augustâs works đ«§#augustâs 2k celebration đ©·#augustâs ts works đȘ©#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley#fred weasley oneshot#fred weasley headcanons#fred weasley angst#fred weasley smut#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasly x reader#fred weasely x y/n#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#harry potter#harry potter x reader#weasley twins#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts fanfiction#x reader#fred weasley blurb#weasley family#gryffindor#ravenclaw#james phelps#fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader
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Can we get a big one shot or a series, of single daddy JK and reader is an assistant at HYBE daycare while she temporarily figures her life out (sheâs an artist trying to make means meet). She also bartends on the weekend and runs into JK one of the nights he is out with the boys.
I feel like youâll be incredible in writing this
after hoursâ jjk 18+
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
genre: single dad jungkook, slow burn
rating: 18+ (explicit content â sexual themes)
synopsis: y/n juggles quiet days at a daycare and late nights bartending, never expecting her life to shift when jungha â a soft-spoken kid â walks in with his ridiculously attractive, unreadable dad.
between shared coffees, late-night drives, and silent promises, y/n learns that love doesnât always arrive loudly. sometimes it shows up in small, steady ways â and maybe this time, itâs hers to keep.
-
i really hope this is applesauce.
itâs barely 10 am and my jeans are dotted in glitter glue and something sticky.
"gina," i murmur, crouching beside the low table where a few kids are coloring. "we can get you a new one, okay?"
i try to console her as she's having a full-body meltdown because her juice box exploded.
beside her, haruâs chewing on a blue crayon like itâs a snack. again.
surprisingly not the worst morning iâve had.
i've been working here for about 6 months now, as a daycare assistant with my bestfriend. unlike her, i never aspired to work anything in child care industry.
but life doesnât really ask what you want.
it's been hard to keep myself up recently, not after my mom's passing. i dedicated the last 2 years of my life as her caregiver, cutting my own dreams short to tend to her illness and keep us afloat.
i would do it again in a heartbeat, its just funny to think that i wasted my time just to see her go.
after she left i've just been trying to survive, i work at the daycare in the mornings, bartending at night.
my real dream? probably to be an artist.
i was always obsessed with painting, color palettes were my own way of expressing myselfâ
"miss y/n, how do you draw a sunset?"
jiwon holds up a paper with orange scribbles and a sun in the top corner.
i crouch down beside him, resting my chin in my hand. âwell⊠sunsets arenât perfect circles. they kind of melt into the sky, right? like when your ice cream melts.â
he blinks. âso i draw a puddle?â
âa pretty puddle,â i say, smiling, and he giggles.
i help him blend red and orange together with his stubby fingers, showing him how to smudge the lines just a little.
âcan i put it on the wall?â
-
âalright, clean up time!â i call, clapping my hands twice. âparents are on the way!"
i help the kids line up their drawings on the little gallery wall we made near the door with their names are signed at the bottom.
"say bye to miss y/n and miss kyla!" summer's mom smilies as she carries her toddler between her arms, holding her lunch bag in the other.
"bye bye!"
i wave, already turning back toward the cubbies when i hear someone crying over a missing sock.
"look whoâs here, y/n," kyla says behind me.
i glance over my shoulder.
sheâs holding a sleeping haru on her shoulder, smirking. her head tilts toward the front door.
i follow her gaze and stop.
standing in the doorway, all black casual business attire and silver rings, hair slightly messy.
mr. jeon.
he's one of those quieter parents, always on time. he's been bringing his 3 year old here for about 2 months and its always been him picking him up.
and never once have i heard jungha bring up his mom.
proabably a busy woman, i cringe at myself everytime i think i have a chance.
seriously? finding your student's dad attractive? you're sick y/n.
but he's such a dilffffffffffffffffffffâ
"i'm here for jungha?"
i snap back into reality as i scan for jungha, my eyes land on a small figure by the gallery wall, quietly adjusting his drawing. when he sees his dad, he doesnât run. doesnât yell. he just walks over and tugs the edge of mr. jeon's sleeve.
âready?â he says softly.
he crouches down, pulling him into a one-armed hug. his hand rests gently over junghaâs back, a subtle kind of affection.
âhe was good today,â i say, stepping forward. âstill quiet.â
mr. jeon looks at me. dark eyes, unreadable. âhe usually is.â
i nod, offering a small smile. âhe drew a rocket for you.â
jungha glances up at me. not a smile, exactly â just a blink, a flicker of acknowledgment.
he stands, adjusting the strap of jungha's bag. âthanks.â
he doesnât linger. never does.
-
i slowly close up the bar as the clock hits 12am.
we donât shut down until 2am but the rush is over. the shiftâs been steady, not as wild as it got earlier during the basketball game, but a few stragglers here and there.
yoongi (heâs a newer face), is here â tucked into the end of the bar, sipping a belgian moon. he's been coming around more often, doesnât talk much, doesnât cause trouble, he tips well and waits quietly usually.
ârefill?â i ask, wiping down the bar in front of him.
he lifts his glass slightly.
i pour a new pint and slide it back to him. âyou waiting on someone?â
he glances at the door. âyeah. friend of mine.â
the door chimes.
i look up.
and stop breathing.
in a black shirt button up shirt, silver chain around his neck, the same messy-styled hair this morning.
mr. jeon.
he doesnât notice me right away, more focused on yoongi, walking toward him with a nod.
they do that half hug â a quick clasp of hands and a shoulder tap before settling into the bar stools beside each other. mr. jeon mutters something low, and yoongi huffs a tired laugh in response.
iâm frozen in place behind the bar, turning away and crouching down pretending to find the bottle opener.
"congrats on your cousins gallery, man, you built that?"
âa bit,â yoongi answers. âbeen working on it since two years ago. happy to see it up.â
another soft chuckle. mr. jeon's voice is sounds lower, quieter, more relaxed than during his pickups. i peek up from behind the bar, just enough to catch him resting his forearms against the counter, silver rings catching the low light.
he looks good.
they talk about some mutual friend i donât know, then mr. jeon finally glances toward the drink menu on the bar.
âyou got tequila?â he asks, not looking at me yet.
i donât move. just grab the bottle automatically and start pouring. âsilver or gold?â
his head tilts. âgold.â
i slide the shot across the bar without thinking.
he reaches for it, fingers brushing the base and finally looks up.
his eyes meet mine.
and he freezes.
thereâs a beat of silence where even yoongi seems to notice something shift. he blinks, eyebrows just barely lifting.
ââŠmiss y/n?â
i raise a brow. âmr. jeon.â
yoongi turns, looking between us with a slow blink. ââŠwait.â
mr. jeon exhales like heâs trying not to laugh. âyou work here?â
âfour nights a week,â i say casually, resting one arm on the bar.
yoongi stares at his drink like itâs suddenly gotten way too interesting.
mr. jeon glances at him, then back at me. âsheâs a teacher at junghaâs daycare,â he says, lips tugging into the smallest smirk. âinteresting seeing you here.â
yoongi clears his throat like heâs trying not to get dragged in. âsmall world.â
âtoo small,â i mutter, pouring another round for someone down the bar.
-
yoongi finishes his beer, checks his phone, and lets out a sigh.
âalright. iâm calling it. see you?â
âdepends if you call me first,â mr. jeon says, not looking up from his drink.
yoongi stands, gives me a small nod. âgoodnight, y/n.â
ânight, yoongi.â i manage, offering a small smile.
yoongi turns to mr. jeon. âyou staying?â
âfor a bit.â
yoongi just shrugs and claps a hand to his shoulder. âdonât bother her too much.â
âwasnât planning to.â
once the door shuts behind him, the silence shifts.
mr. jeon doesnât say anything. just sips from his shot glass and scrolls through his phone while i work my way around the bar, wiping down tables and stacking chairs.
-
by the time i flip the lights behind the bar, itâs just the two of us left.
he stretches slightly, standing as i pull on my jacket.
âyou can call me jungkook, by the way,â he says suddenly, voice low.
i glance over. âoh?â
âi figured since yoongiâs throwing your first name around like that...â
i smirk. ây/n.â tilting my head a littleââyou sure? âmr. jeonâ has such a nice ring to it.â
he laughs softly, a bit breathier this time. âonly during pick-up hours.â
i zip up my jacket and sling my bag over my shoulder.
he doesnât move right away, just watches me from where heâs standing, hands in his pockets, eyes following every small movement.
i head toward the front door and flick off the last neon sign in the window. silence wraps around us.
âwhereâs your car?â he asks.
i hesitate. âa couple blocks down.â
he nods once. no hesitation. âiâll walk you.â
âyou donât have to.â
âi know.â
he says it so simply. i look at him for a second longer than necessary, then push the door open.
outside, the street is quiet. the skyâs clear, streetlights humming. my boots hit the pavement, his strides just slightly heavier beside mine.
we donât talk for a while, just walk. his hands are in his coat pockets, mine gripping the strap of my bag.
after a minute, he glances over. âdo you usually get off this late?â
âmm. depends on the crowd. tonight was mild.â
he hums in acknowledgment. âdo you walk to your car alone every time?â
âi donât really think about it.â
âyou should.â
heâs not looking at me. just ahead, eyes calm, jaw clenched.
my car comes into view, we slow to a stop beside it.
âthanks,â i say, turning to unlock the door.
he nods. âyou get home safe, y/n.â
itâs the way he says it; like itâs a request and a promise at the same time. its makes my chest feel strangely full.
i open the door, one foot inside, then glance back at him.
âsee you tomorrow?â
his eyes flicker to mine, a corner of his mouth barely tugging up. âyeah. see you tomorrow.â
i get in.
he doesnât walk away until iâve closed the door, engine rumbling to life. hands in his pockets. watching.
-
ugh, its the morning.
iâm half-running on fumes when i open the daycare doors at 7:20.
my hairs tied up, coffee half-spilled on my hoodie, and a stack of paper stars tucked under my arm for todayâs âspace explorerâ theme.
i kneel by the cubbies, taping up names for coat hooks when the bell above the door chimes.
i donât look right away. just call, âmorning!â
small footsteps patter across the floor.
a quiet thud against my leg.
i freeze.
then look down.
jungha.
his little arms wrap around my shin, his cheek smushed into my knee like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
i blink.
"morning jungha,â
his face stays buried for a second, then he pulls back just enough to hold up something clutched in his fist.
a folded paper rocket with red scribbles, my name in shaky letters on the side.
âyou forgot this,â he mumbles.
my chest squeezes unexpectedly.
i take it, kneeling down. âthank you, astronaut jungha. iâll keep it safe.â
his lips twitch upward, just barelyâbefore he scurries off toward the coloring table.
then i glance up.
and there he is.
mr. jeon. leaning in the doorway, dressed in black slacks and a slate grey crewneck. same silver chain, one hand in his pocket, the other resting against the doorframe.
his gaze is steady.
not cold, not unreadable, just⊠watching.
something flickers between us thenâsmall, unspoken.
âyou get home okay the other night?â
my breath catches a little.
i nod. âyeah. thanks again.â
his mouth curves, subtle. âsee you.â
âsee you.â
and then heâs gone.
but iâm still standing there.
paper rocket in hand.
â...you good?â kylaâs voice floats in from the other side of the room, casual, but i know her too well.
i turn, slowly.
sheâs leaning against the play kitchen with a plastic banana in one hand, eyebrows raised.
i clear my throat, shove the rocket into my hoodie pocket. âyep. great. just.. tired.â
âmhm.." she hums, biting back a grin. âtired from working late⊠or from walking to your car with mr. jeon?â
i blink. âhowââ
âyou had that look.â she shrugs.
âkyla.â
âhe walked you to your car, didnât he?â
i press my lips together. silence is apparently confession enough.
she whistles. âgirl. iâve been saying. the way he watches you at pick-up like heâs trying not to cross a line? but also might be imagining you in nothing but one of those tiny daycare aprons?â
i groan, dragging a hand over my face. âstop.â
âwhat? iâm just saying. heâs quiet. hot. good dad. youâre single. heâs single. jungha likes you. the universe is doing its job.â
âheâs a parent.â
âand?â
i narrow my eyes. âyouâre impossible.â
she winks, already turning back to the kids. âjust donât be surprised when he shows up with a second paper rocket and a coffee.â
-
aaaaaaaaand.. what the fuck.
jungkook walks in at pickup with a coffee in his hand.
i dont even need to look back at kyla to hear her snickering behind me.
i pretend i donât notice. pretend iâm completely focused on taping up the last few drawings from this morning â crooked crayon suns and glittery stick people â even as i feel him walk closer.
âyouâre early,â i say, not turning.
âgot off work early.â
i glance over, finally.
he holds the coffee out toward me. âthought you might want this.â
i blink. ââŠfor me?â
he nods, a little too casual. âyou looked tired the other night.â
i take it, slowly. the cupâs warm against my palm, and for a second i forget how to hold eye contact properly.
ââŠthanks.â
his mouth twitches. âcream, no sugar. that okay?â
âhow did youâ?â
âjungha says you like it like that. said you told him it was âadult coffee.ââ
i blink again.
kyla cackles from across the room. i donât even try to hide my glare.
âyou have spies,â i mutter.
âi have a very observant kid,â jungkook replies smoothly.
i turn to see jungha run toward him at full speed, backpack swinging wildly. jungkook crouches and catches him effortlessly with one arm, pulling him in.
âdid you draw another rocket today?â he asks softly.
jungha nods and glances at me. âthis oneâs for miss y/n.â
he digs around in his cubby and hands me a folded piece of construction paper. the rocket is lopsided, the stars are pink, and my name is spelled wrong.
i feel my chest actually ache.
âthank you, jungha,â i say, kneeling down. âiâll put this right next to the one from this morning.â
he just nods again and slips his hand into his dadâs.
jungkook meets my eyes as he adjusts the strap on his sonâs backpack. âsee you around, y/n.â
âyou too⊠jungkook.â
as they walk out, kyla sidles up next to me.
âyouâre so fucked,â she sings.
i sip the coffee. itâs perfect.
ââŠyeah,â i whisper. âi know.â
-
itâs sunday night and the bar is slow â the kind of slow that makes you count bottle caps and restack coasters just to feel like timeâs passing.
the overhead lights buzz louder without a crowd. the tv murmurs with a baseball game no oneâs watching. itâs been like this all shift. mellow. forgettable.
and i was kinda hoping it wouldnât be.
friday came and went.
so did saturday.
no jungkook.
no black button-up, no tequila order, no silent glances from across the bar that made my chest feel like it couldnât settle.
i told myself it wasnât a big deal. how he probably got busy or had plans or maybe walking a daycare teacher to her car once at 2am wasnât as memorable for him as it was for me.
i mean⊠maybe i looked into it too much.
maybe it was just a one-time thing.
he was being polite, protective. like any decent guy would. iâve just been tired, maybe the attention felt warmer than it actually was.
maybe i wanted it to mean something.
i lean on the bar, drag my rag across the same spot again.
âyouâre spiraling,â kyla says from behind me, not even looking up as she restocks the glasses.
âiâm not.â
âyou are. your face does that thing.â
i frown. âwhat thing?â
âthe pouty one. where youâre convinced you read a guy wrong and now youâre punishing the countertop for it.â
i roll my eyes. âvery specific.â
she shrugs. âvery accurate.â
before i can argue, the door chimes.
i glance up automatically.
a group of three walks in. not him.
i swallow the twist of disappointment and straighten my posture. âbooth or bar?â
kyla nudges my shoulder as she passes. âheâll show.â
i donât say anything.
but i hope sheâs right, not just because it would mean he cares â
but because i think i really, really want him to.
-
the barâs mostly clean. the register's closed, and iâm reaching under the counter for my bag when i hear kylaâs voice from the front.
âiâm heading out. you good to lock up?â
âyep,â i call back, pulling my coat on.
she swings the door open with her jacket already half-zipped, she turns to glance at me over her shoulder. âtext me when you're home. donât get kidnapped.â
âi'll try.â
the door clicks shut behind her, and thenâ
a knock.
i pause, slowly leaning to peek out the side window.
and there he is.
leaned up against the brick wall just outside the door. heâs scrolling his phone like heâs been there a while or like he only just got here and makes it look good.
i crack the door open. âweâre closed, you know.â
his eyes flick up from his screen, the corner of his mouth curves. âfigured.â
âthen what are you doing here, mr. jeon?â
he shrugs. âsundayâs slow. thought maybe youâd need a walk home.â
i blink. âyou stalking my schedule now?â
âmaybe.â he shifts off the wall. âor maybe your friend told me you usually bus it on sunday nights.â
kyla.
âand you waited out here?â
âyouâre not the only one with good timing.â
i step out and lock the door behind me, shoulders hunching slightly against the chill. he walks beside me, casual, hands stuffed into his pocket.
âyou missed friday and saturday,â i say after a beat.
âwasnât avoiding you, if thatâs what youâre thinking.â
âwho said i was thinking that?â
he laughs under his breath. âwere you?â
âif i was mistaken,â i murmur, âiâd think you have a crush on me, mr. jeon.â
his steps slow just a little.
âyouâre not mistaken.â
my breath catches.
âbut if it makes you feel better,â he adds, a slight curve tugging at his mouth, âiâm trying to be subtle about it.â
âthis is you being subtle?â
he finally lets out a low laugh. âyou should see me when iâm obvious.â
he says it like a joke, but thereâs a flicker in his eyes when he looks at me that makes my pulse stutter.
i try to ignore it.
âso,â i say, clearing my throat, âdo you do this for all your kidâs teachers?â
âjust the pretty ones that make my kid smile,â he says, no pause.
i stop in my tracks.
he doesnât.
just keeps walking a few steps ahead, like he didnât just casually drop that into the night air and walk away from it.
ââŠwow,â i mutter, catching up. âbold.â
we fall into step again, quieter now. the wind rustles through a tree nearby.
the breeze gets there first, curling under my coat sleeve. i shiver.
he notices.
âcold?â he asks.
âa little.â
without a word, he tugs the jacket over his shoulders and holds it out. it smells like clean laundry and faint cologne. i hesitate, but he gives me a look.
i pull it over my head.
âyou look warm,â he says, flicking his keys from his pocket. âcome on. iâll drive you.â
âyou donât have toââ
âi know,â he says again, unlocking the car. âbut i want to.â
the inside of his car smells like pine and something faintly sweet. the passenger seatâs already warm from the heater. i buckle in, tucking my hands into the sleeves.
he glances over as he pulls out onto the road. âcomfortable?â
i nod.
a small smirk pulls at his mouth. we fall into a silence, the city blurs with amber lights and red signals, windshield wipers wiping the early drizzle.
i swallow. âyou know this is weird, right?â
âwhat is?â
âyou. me. this.â
authors note: i kinda liked writing this, it was a very new trope for me but ill have part 2 soon!
#bts smut#bts x reader#bts#bts jungkook#jungkook#bts fanfic#jungkook scenarios#bts army#jungkook smut#jungkook ff
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âLOVE AND LATTES | kang dae-ho x reader


PAIRING: kang dae-ho x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: during the games, dae-ho promised to take you on a proper first date. now that you had both successfully made it out, he was going to keep his promise
CONTENT: fluff, literally the tiniest bit of angst, kinda corny, trauma, kissing on the first date smh, reader is implied to be black
AUTHORS NOTE: tryna get a lot of fics out for u guys bcs almost 400 likes on my first ??? omg yall r so sweet i swearrr, tysmm !!! ngl this might be kinda bad bcs im too tired to read over it âŠ

word count: [2.5k]
ITâS been around 3 days since you got out of those hellish games, and you still canât seem to process it. There was so much death, you felt guilty for taking the money, but it was your only chance at having a way out.
After surviving and splitting the money with a good handful of people, you found yourself dropped off in a dark alleyway. With only a large duffel bag at your side, you felt lost, unsure of where to go.
Eventually, you made your way to a bus station and caught a ride back to your apartment. It took a while to adjust to being in the real world again, a world where a gun wasnât being held up to your head every hour of the day.
You remembered how you met the sweetest boy there. Kang Dae-ho. He was everything you couldâve asked for. The perfect man, met at a perfectly terrible time. Your mind flashed back to the end of mingle game.
âI swear, when we get out of here Iâm gonna take you on a real date. No guards, no games, just us two and the future ahead of us, okay?â Dae-ho promised, cupping your face gently in his hands.
âI love you with all of my heart, and I wanna see you when this is all over. We can move in with eachother and spend everyday in eachothers arms.â He rambled with tears in his eyes, âI canât lose you.â
Now in the present day, you wished youâd spend more time with him. You thought back to the last day in the games, when you wrote your number on his hand, hoping it wouldnât be wiped off by the guards before he got home so you could live out the future you planned.
As the days passed, you lost hope in being able to reunite with your lover. Memories of him flashed through your mind. âFuck, Dae-ho.â you whispered, âIf only I had one more day with you..â and as if on cue, you heard your phone ring.
You stared for a couple seconds, confused as to who it could be. âIt wouldnât be Dae-ho, would it?â With an ounce of hope left in your mind, you hurried and clicked the green answer button.
Silence lingered, then you heard a voice that made your heart explode.
âHello?â Dae-hoâs wavering voice sounded âIs this you?â
You jumped up in joy, feeling a huge smile stretch across your face.
âOh my God, Dae-ho!! Itâs actually you!!â You exclaimed. âI missed you so much I thought weâd never talk again.â
A relieved sigh came from the other line, followed by a slight laugh. âI missed you more. How have you been? Where are you? Do you want me to come over?â he bombarded
âOkay woah, I can tell you missed me. Iâm doing good, well better than I was a couple days ago, Iâm at my house, and yes, I would love for you to comeâ You answered
The line went quiet for a moment, making you wonder if youâd lost the connection. Just as concern started to creep in, Dae-ho spoke again âDo you remember that promise I made before we got out?â
Of course you remember, his words have been playing on repeat in your mind like a record. Your heart skipped a beat as you thought of it actually coming true. You muttered a quick âmhmâ for him to continue.
âTomorrow, meet me at the cafe down the street from that big market. I donât know where you stay, so if itâs too far tell me and Iâll call you an uber.â he planned, âDress up, even though I know youâll look amazing in anythingâ You felt the butterflies in your stomach form as he carried on about whatâll happen the next day.
As the conversation came to a close and you got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking of any possible scenario that could happen tomorrow, good and bad.
âWhat if my hair doesnât cooperate?â
âWhat if he doesnât like how I look anymore?â
âWhat if heâs setting me up?â
All these unlikely events start to run through your mind and it caused you to be overwhelmed with everything happening. When drifting off to sleep, you hope that everything turns out right.
.đ„ Ę Ë âŠ â§âË â
You woke up to a constant âdingâ blaring through your room every 10 seconds. Immediately, you pressed the power button on your phone thinking maybe youâd accidentally set an alarm. When it didnât subside after this, you groggily opened your phone to locate the noise.
There were about 15 notifications from Dae-ho, them all texting you as if youâd died in your sleep or something.
A pool of âare you awake?â and âare you okay?â flooded on your lock screen. Not wanting him to worry any further, you decided to text him back
âgoodmorninggg, iâm up now sorry đ im okay, how are you?â You typed, half asleep.
Immediately, your message was read and the bubbles on the left side of the screen appeared.
âIâm okay. Why do you sleep so late? You scared me.â the message read. You hadnât even realized the time. â2:26pmâ the clock read. You always had a bad habit of sleeping in but it had gotten unusually bad after getting back from the games.
You quickly apologized in your message, explaining your situation to which he swiftly understood. As the conversation progressed, you discussed your date. You were the type of person that needed to know every detail before doing something, especially something like this.
The both of you decided to meet there at 7pm, to give you time to get ready, and to dress upâbut not too much. To be honest, you werenât sure if you guys had the same definition of too much but you decided to put it aside for now.
Immediately after you guys finished discussing the details, you rushed to get ready. Even though you had 4 hours, it didnât seem like nearly enough time to see him.
The closet was your first thought, since you basically lived by the rule of getting dressed first, doing hair, then putting on makeup. You scanned your closet for anything that would impress Dae-ho.
It took about 30 minutes alone to pick out an outfit. You decided on a long black dress you bought for your halloween costume that you never got the chance to wear, due to the pickup for the games occurring the same day. You picked out jewelry and a coat to go with it, since it was the beginning of winter.
After getting dressed, you gathered all your makeup supplies and rushed to the bathroom. Doing your makeup took longer than you wanted it to, but you wanted everything to be perfect since this was the first time youâd see him outside of life-or-death situations.
Every wing of eyeliner had to be just right, your lip gloss needed just the right amount of shine, everything had to reflect how much you cared.
The hair was the part youâd been dreading. You didnât know if it was the detangling, or getting your part straight, but it gave you a headache just thinking about it.
After stalling for about 20 minutes, you finally built up the strength to start on your hair. Pinterest was your best friend for situations like this. You quickly opened the board labeled âhairstylesâ and scrolled through them to find the perfect one.
Youâd found this beautiful blown-out hairstyle that would look amazing with your outfit and makeup. Since you knew it would take a long time, you silently braced yourself, this wouldnât be an easy task. You grabbed the blow dryer, flat iron, heat protectant, and got to work.
In about 2 hours, you had finally finished at 6:50pm. The cafe was about 7 minutes away from you, so you grabbed your stuff and walked out of the door.
The drive there was the worst part. Your stomach was doing somersaults. Even though youâd seen eachother at your literal worsts, it still felt so scary. With all these anxieties flashing through your mind, you managed to push them to the back and keep a confident facade.
As you pulled up, you sent a quick text stating your arrival. You fidgeted with the ends of your dress absentmindedly, spacing out and hoping for the best.
The ding of your phone sent shivers down your spine as a text popped up reading âPerfect. Come inside and turn to the left, Iâm here.â
You felt like throwing up as you walked up to the entrance of the café. The strong smell of caffeine and pastries hit your nose as you searched for Dae-ho in the warm lights.
Turning left as he instructed, you were met with his beaming face, looking like heâd seen the most beautiful sunrise. His eyes widened in awe, and for a moment, he seemed frozen. The corners of his mouth curled up into an infectious smile, and you felt a rush of warmth, knowing that in this moment, you had completely captivated him.
Almost immediately, he jumped up and gave you an engulfing hug. You didnât know if it was because you were used to the smell of blood being around him, but he smelled astonishingly good. It was like the best mixture of his natural scent and a very expensive cologne.
As he pulled back slightly, you noticed a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his handsâdelicate white lilies mixed with soft pink roses. âThese are for you,â he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. âI thought it was only right for our first date.â
His hair was down to his neck, loose and messy, quite different from the bun you were used to seeing him in during the games. The collar of his shirt was casually unbuttoned, too. He looked effortlessly flawless.
âYou look⊠wow. Youâre so beautiful,â Dae-ho complimented, sending electric shocks through your veins. A rush of shyness met your faceâhe really thought of you like that?
âItâs so good to see you,â you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and delight. âYou look amazing too. I mean, I always thought you were handsome, but just⊠wow.â You took the bouquet from him, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers.
His laughter danced through the air, a sound that brought you so much peace and clarity. âIâm just glad I could pull myself together after⊠well, everything.â His smile faded a bit, and you felt the silent weight of shared trauma hovering between you.
âLetâs not think about that tonight ,â you suggested softly, taking a seat across from him. âWe deserve a night where those horrible games are the last of our worries.â
âAgreed,â he said, leaning forward, his gaze intensifying. âTonight is about us, and starting fresh,together.â
As you scanned the cafe, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and the faint piano covers playing in the background,you felt the tension from earlier gradually melt away. You could see other people laughing, having the time of their lives. It felt surreal to be part of such a normal scene after everything you had both endured.
The waitress came up to your table and you both ordered drinks; he went for a dark roast coffee while you chose for a sweet vanilla latte. âItâs nice to be able to actually enjoy these little things.â you ranted, âAfter everything, I never even thought weâd get here.â
Dae-ho's eyes sparkled with that familiar warmth. âIâve thought about this moment every day since I got back,â he admitted. âDreamt about sitting across from you in a place that feels safe, where we can just be us.â
That sentiment made your heart swell. You immersed yourself in his beautiful sunkissed eyes. âWhat do you want for us, Dae-ho?â You asked, knowing that his answer could make or break you.
He hesitated for a moment, his expression solemn. âI want to build a life with you, whatever that looks like. It could be road trips everyday and always having new experiences together, or a cozy apartment with a beautiful family and no worries. I want us to share everything, the good, the badâeverything.â
The sincerity behind his words wrapped around your heart like a warm, familiar blanket. âI want that too,â you said softly, placing your hand over his. The connection was electric, sending sweet shivers up your body.
As you sipped your drinks, Dae-ho leaned in closer, a serious look in his eyes. âYou know, Iâve thought about you every single day since we got out. I really missed you.â
âReally? I missed you too,â you replied, voice full of veracity. âItâs been hard without you.â
He took a long pause, as if he was searching for the right words. âI never realized how much I wanted someone like you in my life. Just knowing you were out there somewhere gave me hope.â
You felt your heart pang at his words, you spent all your life searching for a love like this, it felt so good to finally have it. âIt was the same for me too. Every time I felt like giving up I had to remind myself of us, and our future.â
A soft smile grew on his face. âI knew weâd find our way back to each other. I just didnât know how much it would mean to finally be here, like this.â
âMe either,â you said softly. âI was nervous about tonight. I worried that maybe everything would feel different.â You thought back to earlier and how stupid you were for thinking he would see you differently. This is genuinely all you could've asked for.
Dae-ho shook his head with his eyebrows fixed in a furrow. âI was nervous too, but being with you feels right. I could really see us living a perfect life somedayâ
Your heart swelled with warmth. With him, you felt like you can just be yourself without any fear. He was genuinely your safe space.
âI promise weâll stay connected. No matter how hard things get, weâll keep fighting for each other.â You swore, knowing how your past relationships ended and wanting to break the cycle.
âThank you, really. It means the world to me,â Dae-ho said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. âI just want us to have a future, no matter how hard it'll be.â
âYeah, me too,â you replied, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. âItâs comforting to have someone you know will be there for you, even on the darker days.â
His smile deepened, and for a moment, everything else faded. Just the two of you were in the roomâfocused on your shared promise. Nothing else mattered in this moment, you were ready to finally create a new beginning.
Silence in the air was broken as he finally spoke up, âI want to build a life where we support each other through any and everything." he grinned. âEven the small moments matter. Like cooking together and trying not to burn the kitchen down.â
You chuckled softly, picturing you both in the kitchen attempting to cook and leaving something in the oven too long. âI can definitely see that happening.â
âAnd if we accidentally set the place on fire, at least Iâll have an excuse to scoop you up and look all heroic while I rescue you.â he joked, his expression growing more playful
Laughter erupts from you and your eyes sprinkle with joy, causing Dae-ho to lean in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. âYou know, I really missed your laugh. It makes everything feel so much brighter.â
âReally?â you asked, feeling warmth spread through your chest, âI missed yours too, itâs cute.â
The atmosphere felt light, almost euphoric, as you both relaxed into the comfort of eachother's presence. âBelieve it or not, I was really so nervous for tonight,â Dae-ho admitted, his voice softening as he brushes his hair back behind his ear. âI thought Iâd forget how to talk to you.â
âTrust me,â you said, voice tender, âI was nervous too. But I realized that after everything, who else could understand us like this?â
âExactly,â He said before taking a sip of his coffee. âI feel like I can be myself around you, like Iâve never been able to with anyone else. Itâs so freeing.â
âFreedom and love. Isnât that what lifeâs really all about?â you said, your voice filled with hope and longing. You felt a warmth in your heart as you spoke, realizing that these two things were what you truly cherished.
As the conversation flowed, you exchanged stories, laughter, and memoriesâyou shared dreams and fears, and slowly the nervousness slowly melted away.
âI canât believe we made it out,â he said, his voice stern. âI canât stop thinking about the others we lost⊠what they wouldâve did if they made it out too.â
A brief silence enveloped the moment, both of you remembering the friends that didnât make it, the faces of people who had shared brutal experiences with you.
âI think theyâd want us to live, like really live,â you said firmly, squeezing his hand gently. âTo make the most of us getting out, we owe it to them.â Dae-ho silently nodded, the thick atmosphere slowly leaving.
As the evening progressed, you lost track of time, so caught up in the warmth of shared smiles and nervous laughter. You could hardly believe this was the same man who stepped up and took initiative at every rough point during the games, willing to sacrifice himself for everyone's safety.
The night ended slowly as Dae-ho walked you outside to your car. The stars twinkled like tiny beacons in the dark sky above. âIt feels different tonight, doesnât it?â you said, glancing up at the stars. âYeah, it really does,â he replied, his voice soft but full of warmth.
As you strolled along, flowers in hand, you both shared stories from before you met, your voices mixing with the soft hum of the night. Every smile and nervous chuckle made you feel a little lighter. You realized how much you valued this moment, this time together, away from the chaos and pain that had once consumed you both.
You exchanged glances, and you both understood something unspoken between you. âI never thought I could feel this way again,â you said, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. Dae-ho stepped closer, his gaze steady. âNeither did I. But Iâm glad weâre here together.â
Finally, you paused beneath a big, ancient tree. Its branches stretched out like arms, swallowing you both in its shadow. Dae-ho turned to you, his eyes beaming in the starlight. His stare locked onto yours, and he took a step closer, face inches from yours.
"I wish this could last forever baby, I love you." he whispered, breath caressing your skin. Then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You felt a spark of connection, and your heart skipped a beat as you kissed him back, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. The kiss deepened, and everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the sweetness of the moment.
As the kiss lingered, time itself seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into a beautiful blur. When you finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, a mix of desperation and love radiating from him. "Whatever happens, I'll always be here" he said softly, his hand still cradling your face. You smiled, knowing that no matter where life took you, this memory would be a cherished part of your story, a promise of what could be.
#kang dae ho x reader#kang dae ho#squid game#dae ho x reader#kang daeho#daeho x reader#squid game x reader#kang dae ho fluff#dae ho fluff#squid game fluff#need that
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Three on the carpet
Pedro Pascal x f!Reader

Warnings: None â just sweet family moments, mild baby chaos, and Pedro being the most doting dad imaginable
The car rolled up to the venue, and your heart did a double flipânot because of the cameras flashing outside, but because your daughter had just spit up a little on Pedroâs tux.
âBabe,â you whispered, dabbing at his shoulder with a baby wipe. âYouâre seconds away from going viral for smelling like formula.â
Pedro laughed, one of those deep, full laughs that made your chest warm. âHey, let them say Iâm seasoned. Like a good stew.â
You rolled your eyes as the door opened and chaosâthe kind with bright lights, shouting photographers, and handlers guiding your family toward the carpetâexploded in front of you.
Pedro stepped out first, handsome and composed, though you saw the way he subtly checked over his shoulder to make sure you were okay. Then came your turn, heels clicking softly against the carpet as you carried your baby girl in one arm, the other wrapped around Pedroâs.
âSheâs falling asleep,â you whispered, shifting her little bow-covered head on your chest.
âSheâs already cooler than us,â he grinned, brushing her tiny cheek with his knuckle. âWatch, sheâs gonna be on every headline tomorrow: âPedro Pascalâs Daughter Steals the Show.ââ
You werenât used to this kind of attentionâcameras, microphones, people asking what brand you were wearing and what itâs like being âMrs. Pascal.â But with Pedroâs hand on the small of your back and your baby curled up between you, none of it felt overwhelming.
Pedro paused mid-carpet and looked at you. âYou okay?â
You nodded. âMore than okay.â
âGood,â he said, eyes full of warmth. âBecause Iâm proud to walk with both of my girls.â
That got caught in your throat. The man might be a professional heartthrob, but he reserved all the real romance for you. And tonight, it felt like the whole world could see it.
During the interview line, someone asked if the baby was staying up for the awards.
âSheâs got better things to do than watch her dad lose to someone named Jeremy,â Pedro joked, adjusting the carrier strap slung across his shoulder.
You laughed softly, and the interviewer cooed over how beautiful your daughter looked in her tiny tulle dress.
By the time you were inside the theater, seated and calm under the warm lights of the show, Pedro was still gently bouncing your daughter in his arms, even after sheâd fallen asleep.
âYou know,â he whispered, kissing your temple, âI used to dream about nights like this.â
You looked over at him, your hand resting lightly on his knee.
âRed carpets and awards?â
âNo,â he said, gaze soft and sure. âUs. You. Her. Being a family. Getting to show it off a little.â
And when his name was called for Best Actorânot even expecting it, completely stunned you watched him kiss your forehead, whisper âI love you both,â and climb the stage still with baby spit on the shoulder of his tux.
#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedroispunk#the last of us x reader#the last of us#tlou hbo
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