#like......wait......I could have that?? I could have NICE coffee table and NICE chair??? really?

[pangur-and-grim]

I'm turning 30 this month, and for some reason have become suddenly interested in material possessions. like what if,,,,,,,,my couch was nice. what if my sheets were nice. is this what happens to you??

#this bougie furniture store was having an extreme New Years sale #and it sent me out of my mind #like......wait......I could have that?? I could have NICE coffee table and NICE chair??? really? #a good chunk of my savings mysteriously disappeared shortly after.

[reiding-writing]

Spencer making cold!Reader flustered? And morgan teasing

CUP OF COFFEE [ONESHOT]

/kʌp əv ˈkɒfi/

a local officer on a case you’re working on really wants to impress you, spencer reid does it without even trying.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, morgan being morgan, reader trying to be civil but ultimately failing

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.9k || series masterlist!!

a/n: reader doesn’t actually get all that flustered but i feel like it’s more accurate this way rather than having her go into a full on fluster considering her personality-

main masterlist!!

It was always fifty-fifty when working with local police departments on a case. They either wanted absolutely nothing to do with the FBI or they would follow you and the team around like a bunch of children.

This one was the latter, and it was arguably the worse of the two.

It felt like every time you rounded a corner you had a police officer just waiting to divert all of your attention away from the case so they could ask you questions about your job, and it was starting to get really frustrating.

“Have you ever worked a case like this before?”

“Not specifically,”

“How do you know how to write a psychological profile for a type of crime you haven’t encountered before?”

“I‘ve got a PhD in Psychology-“

“What exactly is a psychological profile?”

You were starting to get really annoyed now.

You know there was no ill intent behind his questions, he looked no older than his early twenties, fresh on the scene and to the types of things the criminal world really had to offer.

He genuinely wanted to learn, but when you were trying to catch a serial killer before they had the chance to kill anybody else, you didn’t exactly have time to entertain all of his questions whilst also focusing on the profile you were trying to curate at the same time.

“You can ask me your questions after this guy is behind bars,” That was probably as nice as your request was going to get.

“Right- Sorry- I’ll stop talking now,” He pressed his lips into a tight line with a small nod as he took your words to heart.

The boy reminded you of Spencer in some ways. He was tall and disproportionately lanky, he seemed to have a never ending stream of curiosity, he dressed decently similarly, and he even made the same expressions you’ve come to recognise as a staple of Spencer’s personality.

One thing that was very different between the two though, was that Spencer knew how to take a hint.

He would’ve left you alone the second those words came out of your mouth, but instead you had now gained yourself an observer as you worked, one that was cemented by the scraping of metal chair legs on the carpet and a messenger bag hitting the floor.

You fight the urge to audibly groan at his persistent presence, closing your eyes with the silent prayer that something would call his attention out of the room so that he would leave you to work in peace.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Looks like God was on your side today.

“Come in,” You call out towards the door with an internal sigh of relief, wringing the whiteboard pen in your hands as you turn towards the door you’d specifically left closed so people like officer curious sat at the round table wouldn’t bother you.

Your relief was short lived when Morgan walked through the door, and you don’t even try to hide the groan that leaves your mouth at the look on his face as he enters. “What now?”

“Now now, that’s now way to be a good role model to your youngers now is it?” The smug look on Morgan’s face only widens as he spots the officer at the table. “I’m looking for pretty boy, can’t find him anywhere,”

You shrug as a response. “Unlike the rest of you, he knows when to leave me alone, so I haven’t seen him,”

If that wasn’t the most direct indirect way for you to say you didn’t want the officer’s presence whilst you worked you didn’t know what was.

Morgan raises an eyebrow, his smirk unwavering. “Well, we've got a lead on the case. Thought you might want to be in the loop.” He glances at the officer, then back at you.

You give him a short hum and discard the whiteboard pen on the table, having to physically raise your hand to stop the officer from following the two of you out of the room. “We need to speak privately for this, I’m sure you understand,”

“Right- Right yeah sorry- I’ll just uh- wait here then…”

You give him a short nod with your lips pressed taut into a line as you push Morgan out of the small meeting room and into the hallway, following behind him and clicking the door shut behind you.

“Got yourself a fan have you?” Morgan chuckles slightly as he watches the officer take a seat back at the table through the room’s window, his eyes on you as he tries to silently soak in every detail of the conversation through the glass.

“More like a parasite, he hasn’t left me alone for more than five minutes all day.” You groan exasperatedly as the two of you walk to a private area to have your conversation.

“Can you blame the kid? He’s probably never seen an FBI Agent in person before, he’s just excited,”

“Annoying is what he is,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When you return to the put-aside meeting room reserved for your profile making, there are two cups of coffee on the table, and of course, the officer is still sitting there.

His head turns up to the door as you open it, and he straightens his back in the chair. “Welcome back- I uh- I made you some coffee, I wasn’t sure how you liked it so I asked one of your team members- Two sugars right?“

He pushes the mug carefully in your direction so the drink doesn’t spill, and you walk right past it back towards the whiteboard.

“Thank you, but I don’t drink coffee in mugs used by other people, nor do I drink coffee made by an unhygienic office coffee machine,” You try your best to be civil as you shut him down.

“Ouch-” Morgan leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, shaking his head in exaggerated disapproval at your response. “Don’t be so harsh-”

You roll your eyes at Morgan’s input, turning your gaze to the now slightly embarrassed officer. “I appreciate your effort,”

“I should’ve asked you personally, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s fine,” You give him a small tilt of your head to hammer the fact that everything was fine home so that he didn’t completely crumple up into himself and leave you to deal with it.

“Right, sorry- I mean-” The officer sighs as he gives up talking, taking the two mugs in his hands as he stands from the table. “I’ll take these out,”

Morgan follows the boy with his eyes as he walks past to leave the room, and you slump your shoulders the second he’s out of sight.

“For God’s sake-”

“You’ve really got yourself a little shadow,” Morgan continues to revel in your misery as he steps further into the room, letting the door close behind him.

“I am two minutes away from ripping him a new asshole if he doesn’t take the hint and leave me the fuck alone,” You groan exasperatedly, dragging your palm down your face as you take a seat on the edge of the table. “I’ve barely gotten anything done because he keeps peering over my shoulder like a goddamn five year old with separation anxiety,”

You weren’t wrong in the first half of your assessment, most of the whiteboard you’d been using to write down your notes was empty despite you working on the profile for multiple hours at this point, and judging by the attitude of the poor officer you were slandering the second half of your assessment wasn’t too far off either. “You never get that frustrated with Reid,”

“How is that at all relevant to anything I’ve just said?”

“Come on, you’ve gotta be able to see the similarities here, he’s practically a carbon copy of what Reid was like when he first joined the team,” Morgan gives a short laugh as he gestures in the direction that the officer had just left in.

“Reid was just as annoying back then,”

“He’s barely changed at all-” Morgan rolls his eyes at your half-assed way of explaining why Spencer was an exception to your frustration.

“He’s changed a lot actually,” You shake your head with an impatient sigh as you lean over to grab your whiteboard pen, using it to keep your hands busy.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” He mirrors the way you shake your head with his own. “That boy is your kryptonite and you know it,”

“Get your ass out of this room before I cover your face in whiteboard marker penises,” You don’t refute Morgan’s claim and he knows it, standing up with a smirk and his hands raised comically in surrender as he retreats to the door.

“Yes ma’am,” He turns for the door handle with a laugh, but the door swings open before he can, and you mentally prepare yourself for that goddamn police officer to walk back into the room and continue hovering over you like a mosquito.

You don’t have to.

“Well speak of the devil,” Morgan tilts his head knowingly at you as Spencer bypasses him to enter with a cardboard holder of take out ocffee cups in hand, eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion at why you and Morgan would be having a conversation about him without him being present.

Morgan nudges Spencer with his elbow, eyes locked on you as he starts to spill. “Little miss Ice Queen and I were just talking about-”

“There’s a possible lead in the case.” You interrupt him before he can divulge any details of your conversation. “One you would benefit from knowing about. Morgan was looking for you,”

“Oh-” Spencer gives a short nod in your direction, leaving the cups on the table to ball his hands together and then flex his fingers like a mini hand workout. “I was in the coffee shop down the block sorry,” He takes the two cups from the holder, one in each hand, and holds the one in his left out towards you.

You take the cup from him with your lips pressed into a small line, as much of a thanks as you’re going to give and as much of a thanks as he was expecting in the first place.

“They were established back in 1902 and continue to make their coffee using traditional methods rather than using a machine like most coffee shops do in the present day.” He takes a sip from his own cardboard cup after his little bit of exposition of the shop’s history and you mirror him in doing the same.

Absolutely perfect.

As to be expected from someone when the person who ordered it had an eidetic memory. And maybe a little bit better because that person was Spencer Reid. Maybe.

“I-” You’re not exactly sure what to say. Obviously a thanks would be worth voicing, but he had gone out of his way to buy you a cup of coffee, even if him remembering your order was like reciting the alphabet in his head.

“Thank you, it’s nice,” You give him a small nod through your mostly deadpanned expression as you take a second sip through the plastic lid of the cup, trying in vain to seem nonchalant about the unannounced gift that he’d brought back for you.

Morgan noticed immediately. Of course he did, because when was Morgan ever minding his own goddamn business?

“No problem,” Spencer’s face erupts in that bright smile of his, and his words get half caught in his throat as he tries to speak whilst in the middle of swallowing. “Did you know that coffee is actually a fruit despite coffee beans being called, well, beans? The coffee beans that we use to make drinkable coffee are actually the pit of coffee cherries, that grow on bushes in low-altitude tropical regions,”

You give him a small hum and a nod as an acknowledgement of you taking in the information, and Morgan laughs at the way your eyes flicker away from Spencer’s gaze rather than holding it firm like you usually would. “No coffee for me pretty boy?”

“You had a cup of coffee in your hand when I left,”

“So what? I’m stuck with the shitty police station coffee and little miss ‘I hate everyone’ gets your old fashioned fancy coffee?” Morgan’s accusation holds no malice in it whatsoever, and if his tone wasn’t enough to display that, the goddamned smirk on his face definitely was.

“I do not hate everyone, just you,” You shoot your retort at him with a roll of your eyes and a scoff.

“You wound me,” Morgan clasps his hand dramatically over his chest, pretending to stumble backwards out of pain. He knew you didn’t hate him really, no matter how much you claimed to.

“Caffeine helps increase brain functioning, which will help when curating a profile,” Spencer half points to the still mostly empty board behind you and you almost groan at the reminder of just how little progress you’ve made. “And she doesn’t like the coffee machines, so a proper cup of coffee is the next easiest option,”

You almost forget to breathe as Spencer explains his reasoning behind the coffee run. He’d remembered that tiny detail. Obviously he had, he had an eidetic memory. But he’d actually thought about it and made a conscious decision to find you a caffeine fix elsewhere in the wake of that knowledge.

“Everyone should preferably be drinking properly made coffee, but with the prices I’m not surprised people choose the cheaper option, even if they’re not getting as much caffeine per drink,” Spencer shrugs as he continues his explanation, finishing it off with another sip from his cup.

Your eyes turn up at the mention of the price. You hadn’t considered the fact that him buying you coffee actually included him buying the coffee.

“How much was it?” You glance between him and the cup in your hand as if trying to figure it out yourself based solely on the black tree printed on the cardboard, eyebrows furrowed at the idea of him spending a lot of money on two cups of coffee of all things.

“Uh,” He deliberates on whether to actually tell you, but he knows that you’ll find out one way or another so there was no real point in trying to hide it from you. “Eighteen for the both of them,”

“Eighteen dollars? You spent eighteen dollars on two cups of coffee?” He was expecting that reaction from you.

“Proportionally it’s actually relatively inexpensive considering how it’s made and the beans that are used. Some professional coffee makers charge upwards of fourteen dollars a cup,”

“And those coffee makers are absolutely fucking insane,” You stare down at your cup as you internally judge whether it was worth a whole nine dollars. It was a great cup of coffee to be sure, probably the best one you’d ever had, but nine goddamn dollars? It wasn’t even a large cup. “Nine goddamn dollars for a cup of coffee my god,”

You can see Spencer’s expression falter slightly in your peripheral vision at your outrage of the price, something that you’d definitely not intended and something you considered an easy fix as you left your cup on the table to rifle through your bag.

“You are simply something else Dr Reid I swear,” The second you pull your purse out of your bag he knows what you’re going to do, and he tries to shut you down before you can even start.

“I- You don’t- I chose to pay for it with my own money you don’t-”

You make a ‘zip’ motion across your mouth with your middle and index finger to stop him from talking as you pull out a ten dollar note and shove it into the chest pocket of his cardigan so he can’t refuse to take it from you. “Never buy me a drink that expensive again,”

“Right,” Spencer presses his lips tight into a line with a small nod, “Did it taste okay at least?”

“It was probably the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t make it not ridiculously expensive.” Spencer doesn’t even try to suppress the smile that emerges on his face at your approval, even if it was backhandedly berating him for buying it in the process.

“Cough cough lovebirds, in case you forgot, Reid still needs to be debriefed about the new lead,” You don’t even bother trying to retort to Morgan as you pick up your coffee and leave the room with Spencer happily trailing behind you.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #asks 🫶

[blackhairandbangs]

That's What Friends Are For

Seo Changbin x Reader

info/masterlist

word count: 2.8K

genre: smut smut!! but its a little fluffy in the beginning

summary: you head to the studio to return bestfriend!changbin's hoodie and end up talking a bit about your friendship

warnings: smut! minors DNI, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (don’t do it!) maybe a little choking? Reader is called “baby”, “baby girl”, and “bunny” Let me know if I’m missing anything!

a/n: this is currently unedited... i was too excited to post this and haven't given it a second look-through yet.

reblogs are MORE than appreciated <3

You and Changbin had been friends for years. Chan had introduced the two of you just pre-debut and you both had been inseparable since. From late nights over at his dorm, to early mornings at the studio, he just seemed to get you in a way you others didn’t.

Him and Chan were spending another evening in the studio, finishing up songs for the next comeback. The booming of bass flooded out as you opened the soundproof door. 

“Hey,” you started to speak, giving the boy a small wave. “Hope I’m not interrupting, Binnie, you left your hoodie at my place last night and I know how cold the studio can get so I figured I would come run it by.” You saw the blush fall on his cheeks as you walked over to where he sat at the mixing table to hand him his tan hoodie. Truthfully, you had planned on stealing the hoodie, wearing it around the house, but you two were just friends and that didn’t seem like the appropriate “friend” action. A good friend would wash the hoodie, fold it up nice, and bring it to the owner’s place of employment, right?

“Oh my goodness, you are so thoughtful, thank you!” He takes the hoodie, slipping it over his broad shoulders. “Come have a seat! I was just finishing up this new mix before Chan gets back.” You nod your head, happy to have a chance to hang out with your friend. You loved watching him work. Something about the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was deep in thought, the way his hair would get ruffled underneath the booth headphones, the way he would bite his lip trying to get the audio effects just right, the way he… But all of the things you noticed couldn’t be anything more than platonic… You just loved to see your friend passionate about the things he enjoys and is good at. All friends love to see that!

“Do you want to hear a bit?” Changbin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You whip your head to look at him, taking the headphones he held out in his hands. 

You give him a sincere smile, “I would love to.”

He leans over the table, pressing a few buttons before leaning back in his chair to get a clear view of your reactions. You get engulfed by the sound, taping your hand on your leg as the beat carries. 

“Oh my God, Binnie, this is amazing!” You say, removing the headphones as the cut comes to an end. “My best friend has to be the most talented person in the world.”

Changbin gives a shy laugh at your praise. He is so grateful you enjoy his work, but the word “friend” hits him in his heart every time you say it. “I’m glad you like it,” He tries to hide his disappointment with a smile, just happy to have you here with him, even if it’s not in the way he wants.

“How has everything been going for you today?” he continues. You two saw each other the night before but were used to talking multiple times a day. However, his studio schedule left him with no free time to do so all day. 

“Oh you know, the usual,” You start. You look down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs a bit. “Just another failed date, I really need to get off these apps.” You give a small chuckle, hoping to move on from the topic. You had met a really nice guy through one of the many dating apps on your phone and had planned to meet for coffee earlier in the day. You waited at the shop for an hour before realizing he was not planning on showing up and went home where you threw yourself on the couch until you could muster the strength to get up and bring Changbin his hoodie. 

“I told you, you need to try meeting people in different ways!” He laughs. This was a conversation you two had often. You would constantly complain about all of your failed dating app dates. The dates you went on to clear your mind of the crush you had on your best friend. Your best friend would then suggest you meet people in person rather than on your phone. “Maybe you can find dates through hobbies, or maybe your friends?”

You give a small laugh before leaning closer to him. “You know, thats not a bad idea…have any friends I can date?” The question wasn’t serious, just a little joke to get a reaction out of him. You knew you didn’t want any of his friends, just him. 

Changbin laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Well, there’s me-” he starts before realizing what he was saying, “and Chan, of course.” His original comment was muffled and flew right over your head. “But, I don’t think you want to date Chan, hes practically married to that sound booth,” he says, gesturing to the open booth in front of the desk you two sat at. 

“Hmm… I don’t know, Chan is pretty cute…” You tease, avoiding eye contact with Changbin. What were you doing? Sure, Chan was good looking, but definitely not who you have been pining after. Actually, the guy you were into was sitting right next to you and you just told him you found his friend cute!

“Oh come on, I am not allowing you to date Chan,” Changbin says, playfully hitting your arm. 

“Ow!” you laugh, rubbing where he hit, even though it wasn’t even close to actually being in pain. “I’m only joking, Binnie.” You take the opportunity to lean your head on his shoulder, the contact making your ears hot. “Besides, I’d choose you over Chan any day.”

Changbin moves his shoulder so you pull your head up to look at him. He gives a small smirk, “Oh, really? Hm, well you know I’d have to think about that,” he says to tease you. He wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he was having a hard time keeping his feelings in tonight. He lets himself come back to the moment, remembering who you are. “You’re quite interesting, but our friendship will always come first,” he says, hoping you couldn't read the sadness in his eyes. 

“Right,” you speak quickly, looking away, leaning back to your chair. The space between you grew back to what it should have been. “And we are really good friends.”

“Yes we are, and I am so happy about it,” He gives a fake smile and places his hand on your knee. “You’re really special to me…” his voice trails of as he sees the blush growing across your face. He rolls his chair closer to you reaching his other hand out to gently cup your cheek. 

“I might have been teasing you earlier about Chan, but I mean it when I say you’re special to me. I..I like you, you know?” 

Your blush goes deeper, feeling his warm hand on your face. Sure, you two had spent many nights cuddles up watching a movie, but something about this contact felt different. It felt intimate. 

“Binnie, please don’t play with me like this…” You look down, not wanting to show the disappointment in your eyes. “You like me as a friend, right?

Changbin turns his head the other way, pulling himself away from you. “Yeah,” he nods, “As a friend, I promise. I’m just messing with you,” he says, trying to cover his tracks, hoping none of this is making you uncomfortable. “Friends do that, right?” He asks, turning his attention back to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder pulling you into almost a sort of side hug. 

You give a small laugh, “Yeah, totally! Friends can do a lot of things.”

He releases his arm from you, meeting your eyes. “And what kind of things can friends do?” 

You look down once again to hide the color of your cheeks, which you are almost certain are about as red as a tomato at this point. “Oh you know…” you trail off, trying to think of an answer. “Friends can cuddle, and…” you don’t allow yourself to finish the thought, feeling the tension sitting in the air. 

Changbin leans in, placing a small kiss on the top of your head, sending a shiver straight down your spine. “Well then, friend,” he says, placing an emphasis on that last word, “How about we cuddle for a bit? I could use a break from this song.” He pats his lap, motioning for you to come over. Without hesitation, you are straddling his lap, head resting in the crook of his neck. 

He smiles softly, feeling your warmth against him. “Good friends,” he sighs, reaching a hand to stroke your hair. “I’d say we make quite the comfortable pair.” 

None of this was feeling real to you, you had to bring yourself back to reality. You lift your head from his shoulder, “How much is left to finish on the song?”

He gives a small chuckle, feeling your breath on his neck. “Oh not much, actually. We’re almost done, just a few more lines,” he starts to rock you gently, feeling your hearts beat in sync.

“That’s good,” you reply, looking up and leaning close to him. “Binnie, just out of curiosity, is there anything else you think close friends could do?” You run a hand through his hair, loosing control of your brain. The words came out without a thought.

Changbin’s heart races slightly over the close proximity and your question. 

“Well, good friends can share secrets, and support each other…” he trails off feeling the warm breath of your lips above his. “But were just friends, remember”

You look him up and down, “Binnie, if we’re just friends, why can I practically feel your heart jumping out of your chest right now?” You let yourself be bold, knowing you need him in ways he will never understand. 

He swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes. “Friends…um friends…do that…we’re um…just really good…” He struggles to get the words out, reaching out to touch the side of your face. 

You decide to just go for it, letting all rationality leave your brain. Your hand comes up to grab his chin, turning his head to look at you. “Now, as a good friend, does this do anything to you?” you ask, practically feeling the heat of his cheeks radiating into the air. 

His breath hitches, your faces inches apart. “Well, um… a good friend might be curious about the feelings of another close friend.”

“I think this good friend has maybe had strong feelings for the other good friend, bit was too scared to ruin anything.” His heart races even more, wanting nothing more than to say the words he has been waiting to say for years now. 

“A good friend might have those sorts of feelings too…maybe..” You cut him off before he could finish, finally bringing your faces together, letting yourself lean into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck. 

Changbin moans softly into the kiss, gripping your hips as he  leans back in the chair, allowing himself to be pinned against it by your weight. He pulls away momentarily, looking you up and down.

“Your lips, feel so soft against mine, I’ve always wanted to taste them.” A shiver sends through your body, feeling his grip tighten on your hips, leaning in to take more of his lips in yours. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Changbin’s tongue sweeps against your lips gently, begging for entry as he deepens the kiss. He is completely lost in the moment, his mind blanketed by the desire to have all of you.

Your lips part, allowing him access inside. A small moan leaves your throat as the kiss intensifies. You pull away for air, your mouth still lingering close.

“Baby, when was Chan supposed to get back?”

“Not for another hour at least,” he starts, peppering your neck with kisses as you through your head back. “He had some things to take care of.”

“Perfect,” you lean in to take him into another string kiss, this one feeling different. It lingered with lust and need. 

He pulls your hips closer, his tongue gliding against yours. A small whimper escapes the back of his throat as his hands travel up and down your back. You grind softly against him, feeling his hard grow underneath you.

“Fuck, yes…” he moans, kissing every part of your lips, down to your jawline and neck. He growls low in his throat as his hand moves down to grab your ass. “Tell me what you want, baby”

You moan, continuing to grind your hips, wanting to feel more. “Anything please, I just want you.” 

He takes this as an invite to stand up. You allow your legs to wrap around his waist as he carries you to lean against the back wall. 

“Binnie,” you whimper, feeling the contact of your head against the wall. 

“Fuck, that name,” Changbin breaths out, his hands exploring every inch of you. He tugs on the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms, allowing him to take it off in one swift motion. 

“You are so fucking sexy like this. All needy for me,” He starts to speak, lowering himself to his knees as his hands grip your thighs.

“Binnie, please” you moan out, desperate for his touch. He takes this as an invitation to swiftly remove your pants, leaving you in nothing but a bra and panties.

“Let Binnie make you feel good, baby” He says, brushing against your sensitive folds, pushing your underwear aside to leave kisses on your clit. He licks a stripe down you before inserting a finger inside of you, thrusting with precision. 

Your head hits the wall as you moan. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” Your words come out as jumbles as he continues to please you.

“Come on, baby. I’m not stopping until you cum all over my fingers,” Changbin murmurs, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you, working you up to the edge.

Your hands reach down to grip his hair, feeling more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before. 

“Go ahead, cum for me baby. Let it all go,” he whispers against your clit, sending your legs shaking above him. He feels your walls clench around his fingers and presses his mouth against your clit one last time before standing up and sucking everything off his fingers. His breathing is ragged as he watches you come down from your high.

“Fuck, youre incredible, bunny.” You pull him into a needy kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. Changbin hums into the kiss, running up and down your back as he holds you close, “I could do this all night.”

“Please,” you whine, “Binnie, I need you to fill me up.” He laughs, picking you up and throwing you down on the couch that lays in the back corner of the studio. Changbin gets on top of you, leaning down for his tongue to invade your mouth once more. Your hands reach down to tug on the waist band of his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, pulling away from the kiss slowly. You nod your head, looking at him, the hunger in his eyes making you flutter. He takes his cock in his hands lining up with your entrance before pushing himself in slowly.

“Tell me when I can move, baby”

“Please, Binnie, I need you,” You whimper, needing to feel him take all of you. With a hum, he starts a steady pace, hitting every spot inside of you. You throw your head back in pleasure, moaning out his name, his cock hitting places you never even knew about.

“I’m not gonna last much longer, you feel so good,” He whines, reaching a hand up to snake around your neck, squeezing gently. “Come on baby, cum for me, you can do it.” 

You feel your stomach tighten as you reach your high, trying to use your hand to muffle your screams, remembering where you two were. You clench around him as his body shudders in pleasure as his seed fills you up completely. He reaches down, planting kisses down your neck, not yet pulling out from inside of you.

You speak out, breathless between kisses, “You should probably finish that song before Chan gets back…”

“Mhm..,” he hums, pulling out and sitting up on the couch, his breathing finally stable. “Come here, baby girl,” he says as he pulls you up into his arms, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “You’re amazing.”

Your head falls in the crook of his neck, taking in everything that just happened.

“I take it we’re not good friends anymore, huh?” you ask, giving him a small laugh and placing a kiss on his cheek. 

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before returning a giggle to your question. “Definitely not,” His voice is soft as he leans your foreheads together. “You're mine now, and I promise I’m never letting you go.”

A/N: there ya go! this was my first time writing smut in years so I do hope this turned out okay! my requests and asks are open if anyone wanted to pop some hot takes, suggestions, comments or anything else you may want to say. Thank you for coming along with me as I finally return from my 3 year long fanfic hiatus. Happy Holidays guys!

#changbin x reader #bangchan x reader #felix x reader #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin x reader #skz #stray kids x reader #changbin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids smut

[mawofthemagnetar]

TFC’s Completely Normal Afternoon Where Nothing Goes Wrong And Nobody Dies Horribly

(shoutout to @lindentree for inspiring this silly fic!)

TFC sat in his little bachelor pad, coffee in hand, watching the steam rise out of his mug. 

It was a nice mug, all things considered. A gift from the other Hermits. A handmade blue thing, turned on a potter’s wheel, with an extra-large handle to give his old hands a break sometimes. Full of coffee from his ancient coffee machine, that gurgled and growled like a jackhammer being waterboarded.

TFC took a sip, and winced. Okay, so maybe it was time to leave the mine and get more coffee. He’d re-used the grounds for the fourth time, and now it was really starting to get properly bitter. 

He drummed his fingers on his glass-top table, listening to the echo against the cold stone walls of his little antechamber. Maybe he’d decorate the walls at some point soon. 

TFC shrugged, and opened his comm. Hopefully one of the other Hermits had some coffee beans. He wiped the stone dust off his screen, and held down the three buttons to switch it on. Yes, he kept his comm strapped to his arm like almost every other player with some semblance of sense. No, he refused to let the damn thing be awake for any longer than it needed to be. The Hermits were chatty folks, and when TFC was deep in his mines and deep in thought, the last thing he needed interrupting his musings was a million buzzing noises as Cleo and Jevin got into a slapfight in the general chat. 

TFC’s personal logo flashed across the screen (the three letters of his name in red, natch) and he took another slurp of his bitter coffee, wrinkling his nose. The comm beeped, and TFC opened the group chat and tapped out a quick message. 

<Tinfoilchef> anyone got any more coffee? I’m clean out. 

He put his comm down, and took another swig. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

TFC frowned. He was a patient man by nature. The same could not be said of the other Hermits, who were usually falling over themselves to help each other out. 

And he hadn’t gotten a reply yet. 

It had been a whole ninety seconds.

TFC scrolled up in chat, and he sighed, rubbing his face. He sank back in his chair in annoyance. 

Of course. 

He tabbed upwards, watching things spiral out of control… in reverse. 

<Renthedog was blanched to death> 

<Renthedog> THE PAIN! THE PAIN IS INDESCRIBABLE

<Vintagebeef was portaged to death> 

<Vintagebeef> RUN! THE BOATS! THE BOATS ARE COMING!

TFC rubbed his temples with his free hand, sighing in exasperation. ‘

“Guys, I dug up five stacks of diamonds, don’t make me do this…I don’t want to re-dig those tunnels…” TFC groaned. 

And of course the nonsense kept coming as he scrolled farther and farther back. Gee, that last message from Ren was about four hours ago, now...

<Iskall85 became part of the weft> 

<Iskall85> HELP GOD THE LOOM’S GROWN LEGS

“Does anyone on this server besides me even know HOW to weave?!” TFC growled, averting his gaze from his pile of unfinished weaving in the corner of the room. It didn’t exist. He couldn’t see it. His WIP’s couldn’t hurt him.

And on and on it went.

<Xisumavoid was hooked to death>

<Grian was torqued to death>

<Tango was unraveled to death> 

<Zombiecleo was racqueted to death>

“Right, I’ve seen enough.” TFC sighed, “On the bright side, at least I’ll have all the coffee I had a week ago, so there’s that…” 

He carefully tabbed through his various screens and menus until he arrived at the one bit of his comm that was set aside for admin functions. Now, TFC wasn’t a server admin. That much was true. But he had slight admin privileges, for one thing and one thing only: server rollbacks. 

While, say, Hypno would have had an extensive wall of options, showing his permissions and all sorts of bells and whistles, TFC’s admin console had a text box to input a date and a big red “GO” button. 

He looked mournfully at his ender chest, and, with a sigh, keyed in a date one week prior. 

And TFC jabbed his thumb on the big red button. 

The world flashed white, utterly blinding him, and a second later TFC was deep in the branch mine in a half-finished tunnel, the same spot he’d been exactly a week prior. 

Unfortunately, he was still in a comfortable sitting position, resting all his weight on a chair that suddenly wasn’t there, so he immediately toppled to the ground, landing on his ass in an undignified heap. 

“Ow.” TFC muttered, sitting up slowly and tapping through his messages. 

<Xisuma> oh, we rolled back. Is everyone alright!?

<Tango> Mumbo you are BANNED FROM TIME TRAVEL

<MumboJumbo> It wasn’t me this time! I mean it was. But blame Zedaph! 

<Zedaph> ME?! No! Blame Cub! Cub gave me the doodad! 

TFC rolled his eyes and typed out a message. 

<Tinfoilchef> Does anyone have any fresh coffee beans?

Silence. 

No messages. No new complaining. As all the hermits re-read TFC’s words and soaked them in. 

Finally, Cleo broke the silence. 

<Zombiecleo> TFC. How many times did you re-use your last filter of grounds. 

<TinfoilChef> eh, six? Seven?

<Zombiecleo> are you telling me we’d all still be in shuttlecock hell if you hadn’t gotten sick of the taste of reused coffee grinds?!

<TinfoilChef> Pretty much, yeah 

<TinfoilChef> anyway 

<TinfoilChef> does anyone have some fresh coffee? 

#magnetar writes #Hermitcraft fic #TFC fic

[droopycoquette]

Coffee And Cupid || Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: How you and Alexia meet

Warnings: Fluff, strangers2lovers, barista!reader

Word count: 2.0k

|*|

You smiled as you heard the small ding of the shop's door, symbolizing that a customer had entered. You continued your task of wiping off a table. 

"Hello, you came just in time I was just about to close up," you start, finally looking up. 

You saw a woman looking around the shop, taking it in. Giving you the chance to absorb her beauty. 

Alexia smiled at you when she was done taking in the cafe, soaking in the small establishment’s aura. The black counters and wooden outlines of the place gave the cafe an old, mystic vibe. The books that lined the south wall gave the area a warmth that many new or well-known cafes couldn’t claim. Then, of course, there was you. As she approached the counter she found you gave off a calm and collected yet fun and artsy energy that made you very approachable. She could feel a love for the cafe brewing in her. 

Her eyes found the menu overhead, and she let out a ‘hm’ as she figured out what she wanted, periodically glancing at you as you cleaned. 

Eventually, she realized that periodically glancing turned into just plain staring making her shake her head and focus. She needed to choose something. She set her eyes on the menu once more and quickly picked something that sounded good. She made sure to keep it simple, you were closing up after all.

You found your gaze drifting to her as well, taking in her athletic build and strong features. From her tan skin to her dirty blonde hair. 

"Hey um, I think I'm ready to order now," she called, forcing you to come back to reality. 

"Of course," you put down the washrag and made your way over to her.

"I think I'll have a turkey sandwich and then an iced americano," she said glancing between you and the menu.

"Are you sure you want an Americano this late," you asked concerned.

She was shocked. She didn't expect a person much less a worker to be concerned for her. She knew it was a little late to be drinking something with so much caffeine in it but she didn't think someone would call her out on it.

"Well, is there something you would recommend," she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

You could tell she was taken aback.

"Um, well,” you paused to look her once over. “You look like you’d like our iced raspberry black tea.”

“Why do you say that,” she asks, glancing down at herself and then back at you.

“Well, black tea still has caffeine just not as much as an americano. You also look like you came back from some sort of work out so it should help cool you down,” you explained. 

“Wow,” Alexia gawked. “You got all of that just by looking at me?”

You blushed, “Was I right?”

She thought for a minute before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, you are. I'll take that raspberry black tea then senora, thank you."

She sat down in one of the chairs and kept her eyes on you. 

"And that's for..."

"Alexia," she finished.

You nodded once more and walked back behind the counter to begin preparing her food and drink. 

"So, what are you doing out so late," you asked as you began to brew the tea.

"Well, I was just coming home from practice, I was hungry and this place looked nice," Alexia smiled.

"Practice? What were you practicing," you asked as you set your sights on preparing the sandwich. 

"Soccer," she smiled. “I play for Barcelona.” 

You almost dropped the cup you were holding. 

“Holy shit.” 

She just nodded and smiled. 

“Well that’s cool,” you say dumbfounded. “I’m glad you came here.”

“Me too, I really like this place,” she gushed, swirling her wrist to make a point.

"If you want you can go look at some of the books while you wait," you suggested, pointing over to the bookshelves lining the wall.

Alexia nodded and went to go look a the books. She picked a random one up and quickly looked at the summary before sneaking a peek at you. She watched as you got the sandwich ready and moved around the kitchen. You looked surreal, there was something so homey about you. You were gorgeous, anyone could see that. Your white button-up with the sleeves rolled up made you look so hot yet so...mommy. She couldn’t describe it. 

Plants and flowers littered the ceiling. It gave the place a homier garden vibe on top of everything else. 

"Find anything you like," you called.

Alexia was snapped out of her daydream. 

"Um, no, not yet," she stuttered. "Is there anything here you would recommend?"

"Well," you stopped to think while you poured her tea into a cup filled with ice. “It depends on what genres you like."

"It's been a while since I actually sat down and read a book but, I remember liking romance," she answered. 

"Okay, well then I would recommend Forever... by Judy Blume. It was originally written for teens but it covers a lot of controversial topics while still holding that romantic aura. It's kind of angsty as well," you said.

"Okay," she muttered while looking for the book. 

"Also, your order is ready," you called out, bummed by how fast you had worked. 

Alexia jogged back over to the counter with the book in hand.

"Do I check this out or do I buy it?"

"You can do either," you laughed.

"Well, then I will get this with the order," she smiled.

"Alright, that will be $25.98."

She gave you $30 and told you to keep the change.

"Have a nice night, ma’am."

"You too."

|*|

Ding

The bell on the door rang, notifying you that there was a customer. 

"Hell-. Alexia! You're back," you exclaimed.

"The food was so good I just couldn't stay away," she laughed. 

"Well, I'm glad. Are you getting something different today?"

"No, I think I'll have the same thing, you really know what you’re talking about. The raspberry tea was delicious. By the way, I started that book you recommended and so far so good."

"That's wonderful! I'm glad you like it," you smiled as you began to get the tea ready.

She's here again, you thought as you busied yourself. She is so cute...and pretty...and nice...oh my god!

"Hey, I never really got your name," Alexia commented.

"How about you come back tomorrow and I'll tell you," you giggled as you began to prepare the sandwich. 

"Is this a new trick to keep getting customers to come back," Alexia teased.

"Is it going to work," you laughed.

Am I flirting? Correctly?

"Definitely," she stated.

Your cheeks warmed as you looked down at your task. You could feel her stare on you and you found it strangely comforting. Alexia could have anyone, she was good-looking, kind, well-dressed, tall, hot, momm-

"Hey,” Alexia called out. “Whatcha thinking about? Were you thinking of me?"

"How could I not," you smiled.

"Good," she giggled.

"Okay, order up! That will be 15.20," you said.

She handed you a twenty-dollar bill and headed out.

You could feel yourself falling.

|*|

Ding

"Ms. Alexia," you smiled not even having to turn around to know who it was.

"You got me," she laughed.

You had gotten her order ready so you could spend more time talking to her. 

"I'll have what I usua-"

"I know," you laughed cutting her off and handing her the food and tea. "It's on the house tonight."

"You won't get in trouble?"

"Well, unless someone else is going to tell me how to run my own place no."

Alexia stopped in her tracks.

"You own this place? That explains it," Alexia exclaimed.

The whole vibe of the café fit you to a T. The mysterious, homey, artsy atmosphere was so you. You gave this place life. If she wasn't in love with you then she was definitely now. 

She took the food from you and then leaned onto the bar counter. 

"So, are you going to tell me your name today," Alexia questioned.

"Only if you promise to keep coming back here," you stated.

She held her right hand up and crossed her heart. 

"Y/n," you smiled.

"Y/n," she repeated, liking the sound of it.

She smiled back at you and stared at you for what seemed like hours. You continued to look away and then back at her, holding eye contact has never been your strong suit. 

"I was wondering if maybe, you could teach me how to make something from the menu?"

You raised your eyebrow. Noticing your confusion, Alexia decided to take a leap of faith. 

"Like a date," Alexia stuttered. "Like cooking together, and-"

"I would love to," you giggled. 

What was this giddiness? Alexia had turned this night from great to amazing. If she could do this just standing on the other side of a counter what was she going to do when she was right beside you?

"Great," she grinned as she took off her jacket and set it on one of the tables.

"Give me a second and let me close up," you said as you left the bar and went to the door to lock the door and flip the sign from 'open' to 'closed.'  

"Is there anything on the many that you want to make particularly," you asked while you opened up the bar to her. 

Alexia passed you and you could smell her perfume. It smelt like cedar and lemongrass, you could get high off of it. 

“I don’t know,” Alexia sighed. “You’re the boss. Literally.” 

You leaned against the counter as you thought about what to make. Giving Alexia a chance to look at you more. She could spend forever staring at you, your small breaths made her shiver and your eyes made her want to kiss you. 

“We could make your turkey sandwich,” you say, thinking out loud. “It’s pretty easy and it doesn’t make much of a mess.”

“That sounds perfect,” Alexia smiles, leaning against the opposite counter. 

A beat of silence follows as you and Alexia stare at each other. Alexia can feel her heart jump as your lips part. It’s as if your breath begins to match up with one another, your very bodies wanting to be near the other. 

“Right,” you exclaim, jumping into action. “The first thing we’ll need is-”

You’re cut off by Alexia’s lips, the footballer not being able to hold herself back anymore. Her hands find your cheeks and cage your face. Her hair tickles your face and overwhelms you with its scent. You quick to kiss back, your hands finding her wrists and holding onto them sweetly. 

Alexia deepens the kiss, her arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer.  Your arms find a home, wrapped around Alexia’s neck lazily. You could feel her smile into the kiss, her lips upturning causing you to smile too. Pulling away, you both giggle at your giddiness. 

“Are you free tomorrow night,” Alexia asks, slightly out of breath. 

“I can be.”

“Would you like to come to a game? I’m playing tomorrow and would love to have you there.”

Alexia takes a breath and holds it, mentally crossing her fingers. Imagining you in the stands cheering for her made her blush.

“I’ve never been to a football game,” you admit. “I’d love to go.”

Alexia beams. It made your heart flutter and your insides melt. You peck her lips gently before kissing her once more. Both of you begin to sway and Alexia realizes that she loves having you in her arms and kissing you. Loves how natural it feels. You find that you love being in Alexia’s arms, her muscles bulging against your frame and warming you. It was nice. It felt like home. 

#Alexia Putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader

[anama-cara]

swipe right

Rhysand x reader drabble

Summary: After matching on a dating app, you meet Rhysand at your local café for a 1st date. It does not go how you expected. Word count: 2.2k Drabble. AU. Set in the real world. Descriptions of reader’s clothing only. Use of y/n.

Warnings: Minors dni, 18+, Unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving)

You’re sitting in a booth with your back against the wall, facing the door. He’s late. You swirl your cup of coffee in front of you. You know you should have waited for him to order, but you felt bad taking up a table and not ordering anything. You dressed up a bit for your date, but not too much. You don’t want to appear like you’re trying too hard, or be over dressed if he wears something really casual. You wear a black skater skirt and a light blue sweater with a silver pendant.

              Did you just get stood up? You stare at your cup, only a third left. The bell above the door jingles and you look up. The world seems to go quiet and you stare. He’s freaking gorgeous. Darkness seems to ripple out of him. The people chatting around you go quiet for a second. Tall dark and handsome would be an understatement, you think to yourself. You blink and avert your eyes before he can catch you staring. The talking around you starts up again. My gosh he is unbelievably attractive. He was handsome in his profile picture sure, but the photo was a bit farther away and kinda grainy, this… him… Your heart is beating embarrassingly fast.

              He glances around the café and his eyes land on you. Your stomach flutters at the eye contact made. He grins and you began to feel that flutter a little lower. He approaches your table, smoothly. So smooth. He moves silently, full of ease and grace.

              “Y/N?”

              You have to clear your throat before saying, “Yes, nice to finally meet you in person.”

              He drags the chair out from the table and takes a seat across from you. You watch him as he moves and gulp. You watch his hands as he grips the chair, broad and strong, watch the muscles flex in his forearms. His arms were tanned and muscled, his biceps tight under his charcoal short sleeved t-shirt. The shirt also graciously showed off his broad shoulders and chest. You knew underneath there hid a very toned abdomen. You said a silent thank you to the shirt. He wore black jeans and black boots to complete the look. Peeking out underneath his shirt collar you could see whispers of a dark flowing tattoo that swept across his chest. It wound around his biceps too. You had never really been a fan of tattoos but suddenly it seemed like the most attractive thing in the world. That is, until you looked up and met his eyes as he sat down as gazed at you, smiling broadly.

              Shit.

              You wouldn’t admit to yourself that you felt a tug between your legs. His eyes were violet. Impossible. He had violet eyes that seemed to dance in the light. You stared until you realized you were being rude and blinked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed your awe. He did. His devilish grin grew.

              “Hello darling”

              Oh fuuuuck. That velvet voice. You were in trouble alright.

              “Nice to meet you too. This is a charming little place you picked,” he says casually, glancing around the café. He looks back to you. “Cozy,” he says with a wink. A flirt.

              He noticed your already half drunk cup of coffee and frowns. “I’m sorry I was late. A friend of mine, Cass, was in a tight spot and I had to help him out.”

You realize you haven’t spoken a word yet. You were too enthralled with his beauty. You shake your head ever so slightly and ask calmy, “Oh no worries. Is your friend okay?”

              “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he replied with a cocky smile. “He’s just one of those friends that sometimes does stuff without thinking and trouble always seems to follow them.”

              Just then the waitress arrives and stands next to him to take his order. Very close to him. He gives he order quickly – coffee. Black.

              “Thank you,” he says as she writes it down. His voice is polite and quiet. Not at all like the flirtatious tone he had just been using moments ago, despite the waitress flashing smiles and batting her eyelashes, giving all the obvious signals like you’re invisible. You clear your throat. She throws you a glare before leaving.

              “You look beautiful.” Now his tone is respectful. Sincere. You hide your blush.

              What a flirt. But it was working.

              “Thank you.” You give a little laugh. “You look beautiful too.” He smiles at your compliment.

You chat back and forth about all the normal first date stuff: where you both grew up, what you studied in school, what your favorite book was, what kind of music you listened to. You got to know each other, sipping on coffee and giggling at his shameless flirting. Before you knew it two hours had gone by and the shop was closing.

“Where did you park?” he asks. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I’m behind the back and down the alley,” you give a shrug. “Free parking.”

He chuckles and stands from his chair, offering you a hand. You take it and he helps you up. He doesn’t let go of your hand. He leads you through the shop to the back door. As you pass the waitress you give her an overly sweet sarcastic smile.

Its late in the afternoon and the sky is a fading blue and the sun sinks into dusk. There’s a street lamp on the road, but the alley is mostly painted in shadows.

He stops and turns to face you. “I had a good time today. When can I see you again?” He’s still holding your hand.

Your mind is blank, he’s so much closer, there’s no table between you, no café full of other people. It’s just the two of you, surrounded by shadow in the still night and he is standing right in front of you, so very close. You could reach out and touch his face, you could…

--

His eyes move back and forth between your own. The slight anxiety he had from you not answering his question instantly vanishes and he clocks your expression. He takes a step forward, closing the space between you. Your hand floats upwards on its own accord and reaches out to cup his jaw. Your eyes never leave his own and you still look dazed. He smiles to himself and takes another step. You instinctively follow his lead, stepping backwards until your back is pressed against the cold alley wall. He lets go of you and cages you against the wall, hands pressed into the concrete on either side of your head. Your beautiful hand is still cupping his face and he leans into your touch closing his eyes a moment to relish in it. When he opens his eyes again you’re still gazing at him and your glossed lips are slightly parted. He lowers his head and leans in closer, whispering against your skin barely inches away.

“Can I kiss you?” You nod and close your eyes. He smiles and takes pauses, taking the image of you in, committing it to memory before he presses his lips to yours.

--

His lips are soft and full as they move against yours, taking your breath away. You lift your head off the wall slightly, deepening the kiss. He reciprocates your eagerness and you part your lips, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth. Your hand that was resting on his jaw moves down, lightly sliding along the skin of his neck and collar bone to grip at his shoulder, pulling him closer to you. You hook one leg around his waist to pull his whole body against yours. Any tenderness in that kiss is gone and you are full on making-out. Your body grinds into his and you feel his body tense in response. What is wrong with you? You don’t do this on first dates. You don’t make out with people in dark alleyways. But he has some power of you, there’s just something about him that draws you in and won’t let go. All rational thoughts leave your head as your body takes over, focusing on the feel of his lips against yours, the muscles in his shoulder, the warmth of his body pressed to yours. His right hand drops from the wall and reaches for the leg you looped around him. He hikes your leg up and hold you, slowly running his hand up and down your thigh. Your skin tingles at his touch and you feel yourself getting wetter. His hand moves farther up your thigh and he skims the hem of skirt. He pulls back, gasping. You tilt your head back, leaning it against the wall for support.

“Can I- “

“Please” you immediately respond.

He smirks and leans forward to kiss you again. His hand moves all the way up your thigh, under your skirt and his thumb hooks the waistband of your lacy underwear. He slowly pulls them down, taking his time as his hand brushes against your skin. Not wanting them to fall on the dirty alley floor he tucks them into his back pocket. Maybe you’ll just let him keep them. Then his hand is back on you, gliding up, leaving a trail of electricity at the contact. His touch makes your skin come alive and you arch your back at the feeling.

Gently his fingers reach your core and he runs his middle finger up your seam. He groans into your mouth at the feeling of your wetness. It drags up and down a few times tantalizingly, then circles your entrance to gather slick before sliding back up to your clit. He flicks it then begins rubbing slow circles. You moan into his mouth as he plays with you. His finger glides back down and pushes into you, curling against your wall in the most wonderful way. You break the kiss as you tilt your head back into the wall, pressing against it as your back arches and your hips roll into his hand. He brings his lips to your chin that juts out, leaving a kiss before his open lips trail down your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. Your having trouble figuring out where to focus, his mouth or his hand. He presses his lips into the hollow of your throat then into the bit of cleavage visible above the V-neck collar of your sweater. He sucks on the soft flesh of your breast as he continues to slide his finger in and out of you. It feels so good and you let out a strangled little noise. His hand stills and leaves you to rest on your inner thigh. His eyes flick up to yours and his lips leave your flesh.

“Are you sure?” He asks. His violet eyes are gleaming and eager.

You nod as you reach for his pants in response. You unbutton his jeans and look up to meet his eyes again as you slowly lower his zipper. He is completely still; you think he may even be holding his breath. Your fingers slip under the waistband of his jeans and boxers at his hips. With both hands you tug them down till they rest on his thighs. Even in the low lighting you can tell that his cock is just as beautiful as the rest of him. But he doesn’t give you any time to admire it. He leans you back against the wall again and hooks your leg back around him, holding just below your knee. He gives you a quick kiss before pulling back to wrap a large hand around his thick cock and guiding it into your entrance. He pauses there to read your eyes again before slowly pushing all the way into you. Once he is inside you, he breathes deeply. His hand brushes against your cheek affectionately before he places it back onto the wall. He shits his weight forward, leaning against his hand and thrusting even farther into you, pushing your own hips into the wall. He hits something deep inside you and you let out a moan. Spurred on by your sounds he pulls out halfway then thrusts back into you as he sets up a pace.

It doesn’t take long before you feel your orgasm building.

“Rhysand I’m-“

“Me too darling.” He replies with a grunt as he deepens his movements.

And then you’re contracting around him, holding onto him as you ride your waves of pleasure. Your hand is squeezing his shoulder and your pussy is squeezing his cock as you cling to him. Just as you’re coming down you feel him quickly pull out. He strokes his cock and points it at the alley wall beside you but he sees you lift your skirt up and groans loudly as he spills on your lower stomach. It trickles down onto your mound and your sensitive core.

He lets out a shaky breath and leans into you, resting his head on your shoulder, his cock pressed against your sticky stomach. You feel his chest rise and fall against yours and his hot breath on your back.

“Tomorrow. I’m free tomorrow.” You say and he laughs. It’s a bright, beautiful laugh and you smile underneath him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder then your lips.

“Good.”

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #rhysand drabble #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #rhys smut #rhysand smut #bat boys #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader smut

[idksmtms]

Silence - Emmett (AQPII) x Younger!reader

Summary: You had seen Emmett before everything went to hell, but you didn't actually know him. Now though? Now he was all you had. He was everything. 

Word count: 3.9k 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (both characters are still 18+), p in v s*x, fingering, daddy kink, discussions of death, discussions of trauma, attempting to exchange sex for services (doesn’t actually happen tho), mental health struggles, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the A Quiet Place or A Quiet Place Part 2 characters. I do not claim to own any of these characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You hadn’t known it was him when you had followed the man in the abandoned factory down the chute. You hadn’t known it was him when you had landed with a thud right behind him and he had whirled on you as the screeches from the monster above echoed metallically over you. You still hadn’t known it was him when he had pulled you away from the entrance and into the old pipe and shut the door behind you and sat just in front, heaving and staring out of the little window inlaid in the door. But then, with shaking hands he had pulled down the scarf over his face and stared at you like you were somehow the craziest part of this new world, and simply uttered the words “what the fuck.” You had jumped forward then, slamming your palms to his mouth and widening your eyes to try and communicate how stupid he was being, but he just shoved you off and waited until you had sorted yourself into a seated position once more to speak. “They can’t hear us down here, especially if you whisper.” You stared at him, listened to the rough gravel of his voice, and it finally clicked in your mind who this was. 

You remembered Emmett from before. He had run the garage in your town and your dad always took your car there to get it fixed. You had never talked to him much, just a hi or hello there if you went to the garage with your dad or if you bumped into him somewhere in town, and it was alright considering you had just graduated high school when the creatures landed. Sure, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen, but it’s not like you thought about that much (you used to think about it all the time). You guys didn’t have much business with each other, he was a married man, so what did it matter? He had been your favourite naive high school crush. But that’s all it was. Then the creatures landed and any feeling other than survive, survive, survive, hadn’t entered your head since. 

“Mr. Emmett?” You finally whispered, hands pressed close to your mouth out of fear. You didn’t remember the last time you had spoken. What had been the last thing you said?

 He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, clasping your hands together and rocking back and forth slightly. The air was getting stuffier and you could feel your lungs getting tighter. Then something started beeping and he reached over and opened the door. He jumped out and began pacing as you clambered out of the pipe like a human spider. 

You finally got a chance to look around the space you had fallen into, and it was… quaint. There was no better word really, because it wasn’t nice but it was much better than some places you had been. A pile of cushions and sheets and maybe a duvet (you couldn’t tell) made up a sleeping area in the corner. There were a pair of folding chairs across a makeshift coffee table with an oil lamp on it on the other side of the space and pieces of paper were tacked up on the wall above them. They were drawings, you quickly realised, of three different people over and over again. Was it his wife and kids? You could recognise Nora, but you had never paid particular attention to his kids, so is that what they looked like? 

You turned to Emmett and it seemed he had come to a decision. He began shaking his head and you knew exactly what he was going to say. Dread filled your stomach, filled every bone and every skin cell. You had barely survived on your own on the journey to finding this place. The group you had been with before… they were either picked away or went crazy but they had also been the reason you survived this long. You were, for lack of a better term, useless at survival. Other people had hunted for you, other people had killed for you, all you could do was watch over things, and run. 

“Please,” you began to whisper in a hurry, “please don’t make me go. Please, Mr. Emmett,” you rushed over to him, clasping his forearms and forcing him to look at you. His eyes were haunted, and you were sure he had seen terrible things, things that would stay with him till he eventually succumbed to whatever death awaited him in this new wasteland, but so had you. “Mr. Emmett, I can’t survive out there on my own,” your voice was clogged with tears now, your eyes shiny and dripping onto your cheeks, “if I don’t die as soon as I step out of here, then it’ll be within a few days, at most a week. I can’t do anything on my own Mr. Emmett, I’m fucking useless!” You sobbed, a sound so loud he slapped a hand over your mouth and hushed you aggressively, but you continued crying, leaning into his hand as you blubbered. 

This was the first time you had cried since that first day. There had been no time to cry later, always on the run, always worrying about something, and now it was finally hitting you. Your world was truly ending, and these last-minute grabs to try and save it weren’t going to work. 

“Sh, sh, alright,” he whispered, “alright, just calm down, just calm down and be quiet.” 

You pressed your lips together and pulled away, wiping at your eyes and trying to quell the need to hiccup out more sobs. Emmett sighed and pressed his hand to his forehead, eyes closed as he shook his head and muttered to himself. 

“Please, Mr. Emmett,” you whispered again, looking up at him with those big eyes of yours that made his resolve melt. “I’ll do anything for you, anything,” you dropped your backpack to the floor and began pulling up the hem of your tank top. You had never had the luxury of a jacket, and there were many cold nights barely survived in this tank top, but after a while you had learnt to be thankful for every little thing you had. 

You looked him in the eyes as your shirt began to rise, no shame, just desperation. Just as the hem reached the undersides of your breasts, he reached out and grabbed your hand so tight your knuckles began to hurt. 

“Stop,” he bit out, staring at the floor as he forced your hand back down your stomach. Once he was sure you were covered up again, he looked at you again and sighed like the weight of the world had come crashing back down on his shoulders all over again. “You can stay, but you at least have to learn how to use a gun, in case I’m not here.” 

“Yes, yes anything,” you breathed out, and launched yourself onto him, hugging him around the neck and pressing your cheeks together. Oh how long it had been since you had hugged someone. He was so warm and you could feel his firm frame under his clothes. Clearly it had been just as long for him since he hadn’t even bothered to reciprocate, hands hanging at his sides and body frozen. Slowly you released him, stepping back and staring at the ground as he cleared his throat and turned away to do… something. Whatever a person needs to do nowadays. 

He had sacrificed some of his sheets and pillows for you to make your bed, but you didn’t stray too far from his own setup, wanting to know that there was someone with you when you were going to sleep. You had quickly fallen into a routine within the next few days of living together. You would wake up when you heard the rustling of his sheets, spending some time washing up and nibbling on just enough food to quiet the growls in your stomachs. Then he would sit in one of the folding chairs and draw, the soft scratching of his pencil against paper filling the space. You occupied the other chair and began to work your way through the small pile of books he had. Sometimes both of you would look up simultaneously if you heard a click or a creak echo down the chute, but when it was silent once again you would return to your own activities without saying a word. 

On the third day, he decided to venture out to gather more food and water. You had watched him ready himself for the trip, wrapping the scarf around his face, gathering up his shotgun, then climbing the ladder without a look back. You had tried to read while he was away, but your mind couldn’t focus. At every sound, or even the illusion of sound, your head snapped to the chute to see if he was back. Eventually you abandoned your seat and began to pace, staring at his drawings and sifting through the pages of his journal. There were a lot more drawings in there, and you wondered how he had chosen the ones to put up. Even the half-finished ones were beautiful, and you felt a sudden onset of tears as you turned page after page of their faces. You were careful not to let a tear fall on any of the papers, and gently set it back down, caressing the leather cover for a moment before going to his pile of sheets and settling down for a nap on top of them. 

You woke up when he returned. You hadn’t realised how much noise actually happened just by two people existing, but the sound of his feet on the ladder rungs, his panting breaths, even the rustle of his clothes suddenly seemed so loud after the hours of quiet solitude. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, watching as he set out the supplies before walking over to you and handing you something. He didn’t comment that you were on his bed, and you didn’t make any move to get up, and he just went back to his chair journal. You stared at the pile in your hands, five new books in various states of decay, but all readable. They must have been a completely unnecessary weight for him, only a hindrance and a danger, but he had brought them. For you. You stared at the pile in your hands, a collection of paperbacks you had never heard of, and then you looked at him. He was busy with the journal, head bent low over the paper, and something bloomed in your chest, filling you up with all this… happiness? Joy? Love? You weren’t sure what those felt like anymore but it must be close. 

Two weeks after you had arrived in his little sanctuary, winter truly began to set in. It had started to become colder at night, and you were lucky enough to be sheltered away from any winds, but the chill that settled in the air at night seeped into your bones. For the first week you could survive by bundling up as tight as possible in all your blankets and a jacket that Emmett had scavenged for you. But with every night that passed, even that wasn’t enough to keep the cold out, and most of your nights were spent awake and shivering, hoping you wouldn’t die of hypothermia. 

At last, on one particular night, you truly couldn’t handle the cold anymore, and you decided enough was enough. Heaters didn’t exist anymore, but body warmth was a natural heater, and you had a perfectly good body nearby. You turned over under your blankets and slowly began shifting your way over to his pile. You could see his body moving under his blankets with every breath, and you were sure he was still awake, because why wouldn’t he be? Who could sleep in this cold, even Emmett? You managed to make your way to his bedding and slipped under his blankets. Emmett turned over, staring at you in the dark, but you just continued burrowing yourself closer to him until your head was pressed under his chin and your arms and legs were wrapped around him. Once you had felt the warmth emanating from him, there was no turning back. He only had on a t-shirt under the blankets and he shivered whenever your skin made contact with his. You were freezing cold yet he was hotter than the sun. The skin on his arms was soft, and you lightly ran your hands up and down it before wrapping him up in your arms once more. 

At first, Emmett didn’t move. Again, he was frozen, just like when you had hugged him. But slowly, as the quiet settled in again and both of your breaths evened out once more, he moved his arms to wrap around you in return, pressing you close to his chest and splaying his hands over your back. Every breath he took ruffled your hair and your every breath fanned his neck. Both of you were quiet, soaking in each other’s touch. It had been aeons since either of you had felt the sustained touch of another person, had just been held by another person. It was an indescribable comfort that you now deemed essential to your survival. 

From then on, every night passed in this fashion. You would wriggle your way into his cocoon of blankets and he would wrap you up tight in his arms, pressing his lips to the top of your head without a thought. It made life seem better somehow. Waking up every morning in his arms, knowing that that’s how the day was going to end made everything more… bearable. 

Three weeks later Emmett ventured out on another supply trip. You had silently been having a particularly difficult day. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything, neither your book nor the pencil drawings you had picked up since being around Emmett. Your mind felt hyperactive but so overly tired at the same time and you wanted to venture out for a walk but you knew Emmett would have a fit if you left the space without him. Instead, you settled down on his bed and waited for him to come back once more. When he did return, again carrying a small pile of books, you didn’t bother getting up to greet him like you usually did. You stayed curled up on the sheets and stared at the wall, overcome with a wave of despondency that made you feel paralysed. Emmett watched you as you lay there, and after putting away all the supplies, came to lay down beside you. He hesitated before touching you, unsure how to handle this mood, but eventually decided to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back until you were flush to his body. 

He had grown overly fond of you in the time since you had invaded his life. You had become life itself to him. At first he had dreaded the thought of caring for someone else. After the way it had ended with his children and Nora, he didn’t want to be responsible for anyone but himself. He would have no regret of his own death. But then you started complimenting his drawings and trying to make the little hovel prettier wherever you could. You told him stories of your life before while you guys ate or you simply existed beside him, a presence always there to reassure him. And it made his heart feel all warm and reminded him what was so good about being alive in the first place. 

He had thought about what people would have said about you two if the apocalypse hadn’t happened. He had thought every single judgemental thought about how young you were and how old he clearly was next to you. But then he remembered that this wouldn’t have happened without an apocalypse anyway. The world was gone, and with it norms and propriety. While he still had his values, he also recognised you were an adult now, and in this world it didn’t matter if he was older. All that really mattered was if you felt the same way about him. 

Emmett pressed his lips to the back of your head and waited, listening to your breaths shudder slightly as you pressed back against him, hands coming up to clasp his. You ran your thumb over his knuckles a few times before turning over to face him. You clasped his face in your hands and made sure he met your eyes. He could see that they were shiny but no tears had fallen yet. 

“Don’t leave me alone anymore,” you whispered, “I can’t stay here waiting for you to come back wondering if you even will. I feel sick to my stomach every time you walk out because you are all I have left. If you die out there, then I have no reason to keep living. You carry my heart with you everywhere you go, right here,” you gently patted his chest, “so I can’t have you going out there without me anymore. I can’t. If you die, I die.” Emmett stared into your eyes. You were so serious, not a single stutter in your words, and all he could do was whisper ‘ok’ in return. You nodded, still grasping his face in your hands, before moving forward and kissing him gently. 

Emmett pushed himself even closer to your face, his nose pressing into the crevice between your nose and cheek, and slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hand slid under your shirt, tickling the warm skin as he ran it up until he was grasping your breast in his hand. He couldn’t get enough of you already. Your mouth was so soft and each kiss became more ravenous as both of you pressed your open mouths together. He gripped your breast and squeezed revelling in the breathy sounds you let into his mouth, rubbing your nipple and pinching it, flicking the little nub until you were moving your hips without realising. 

Emmett moved over you until he was settled into the space between your legs and began grinding into you, settling his weight onto your body. You pulled away from his mouth and hurriedly lifted off your shirt. You began tugging at his but he just pushed your hands away and threw it off himself. Everything had escalated so quickly that neither of you had patience for anything but getting him inside of you as quickly as possible. The air around you had become boiling hot and the space between you was stifling.

He was quick to unbutton your pants and push them down until one leg had been freed. Neither of you cared about the other leg. His own were pushed down just until he was freed and he let out a groan of relief right into your ear. When you began trying to push him down and into you, he pressed down on your hips and hushed the whines that burst out of you. 

“I have to prep you, come on baby,” he kissed your cheek, your chin, your neck, then reached down to the apex of your thighs. You were wet all over and so hot he could feel the heat before he even touched. He panted into your neck as he began gliding his fingers along your pussylips, pressing between them and twisting his index and middle fingers so they were covered in your slick. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby,” he muttered into your neck, pressing his fingers to your clit. “My baby’s dripping all over and it’s all for me, huh?” He seemed to be talking to himself as it didn’t matter if you answered or not. You were too lost in the sensations of his rough fingertips running back and forth over your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing and pinching until your legs were trying to close around his hand and your hips were wriggling. 

“Daddy, please,” you whispered, and he groaned so loud you rushed to slap your hand over his mouth. God it had been so long since a woman had called him that. If he wasn’t careful he would cum from humping your leg. Emmett pushed a finger into you and instantly started up a rhythm. He felt your squishy insides and the texture of your walls and curled his fingers every time he pushed them into you. Your legs had fully tightened around his hand that he couldn’t see it anymore but it didn’t matter, as long as he could move it and watch the way you scrunched up your face, panting into the air, he could die a happy man. 

It took you all of two minutes to reach your peak like that, clit bullied and filled with his fingers. Once you had begun to come down, he was quick to pull his hand away from you and focus on prying your thighs apart again. The sticky sound of your thighs opening up was music to his ears and he lined himself up to your entrance. You were still a little sensitive from your first orgasm and the feeling of him spearing through you made you convulse. You dug your nails into his shoulders and cried out but he had already covered your mouth with his hand. He pressed in until your hips met and his pelvis squished your clit through your folds. He took a moment to breathe heavily against your neck, adjusted himself slightly, and keeping his hand over your mouth, began to thrust into you. You bit into his palm but he only grunted and kept on, slamming into you over and over. You were jelly, you were a hot melted pool of pleasure, ready to be used for whatever he desired. Your legs felt like they were being zapped with electricity and your arms were so tight that they might fall off if you let go of Emmett. 

The pleasure began to climb, and you could feel it building in your stomach. The tingles sped up, and the pressure increased until you were clenching down on him over and over again. His pace faltered at the feeling but he was quick to get back at it. He reached down to press harshly at your clit but it was too harsh at first and you jolted away from him with a yelp. He shushed you and gently began rubbing it in circles and you came all over him. The tightening from your orgasm triggered his own and he pushed inside you fully and began twitching, grunting like a wild beast into your shoulder. He had bit down onto the flesh and you could still feel his teeth there even when he pulled away to begin kissing you. 

Both of you lay there for a while, just feeling everything in your bodies. Once the sweat had cooled on your skin, you turned over and whispered into Emmet’s ear, “I love you.” 

And when Evelyn Abbott and her family came falling into Emmett’s little sanctuary, what they weren’t expecting to encounter was a pregnant young lady with him.

#a quiet place ii #a quiet place #emmett x reader #emmett a quiet place #cillian murphy #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place part ii #cillian murphy smut #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy characters #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillianmurphy

[weebsinstash]

the brand new Angel Dust song that just came out has me thinking how absolutely fucked a Reader who is a dancer/musician/singer/producer would be with a yandere Valentino because it really does seem like, coming off of just the general materials and vibes I'm getting, that Valentino also turns his pornstars into sort of miniature celebrities, dare I say, idols even, which would maybe inherently fit the theme of Hazbin Hotel being a musical sort of show at heart. People break out into song, Asmodeus runs a club where music is performed, Angel sings as he strips, Alastor just... as is like just his entire aesthetic and musical number was 🤌, sing about being horny, sing about being addicted, sing about being sad, I dunno there's just an inherent love of music in all of it

I've never really posted about it in detail but I've thought of the ever so elusive MALE READER x Valentino (or transdude/intersex Reader because like, I guess i would, have to, accurately research what having a dick would feel like for smut of that and, I don't know, it's my turn on the gender power fantasy and I say--)

Male Reader who just keeps to himself and waits on Val's table "because you're too stiff, you'll scare off other customers" and one night the Overlord just catches you seemingly alone sweeping floors/cleaning while dancing/singing something, that whole trope where you just don't see him or have your eyes closed and practically do a full musical number until you notice him, just like seating himself in a chair, smoking a cigar, looking at you all smug and horny and thinking of all the different things he could use you (and your holes) for

Absolutely does he exploit weakness and if you don't have a prior addiction, he'll get you one. He'll shotgun something straight into your mouth, mix something into your weed, put a pill in your drink, nudge you towards that alcohol you're trying to stay away from, he'll do it all. He'll get you so fucked up your entire body is buzzing and you're stumbling and you can barely even move and that's when he pounces on you, doing whatever he wants, looking at whatever he wants, touching wherever he wants, and you might not even remember it afterwards and you'll only find out when he shoves his phone full of pictures in your face to mock you

You can't stay closeted/hiding an interest for men around this creep because he'd be secretly feeding you like ecstacy or something that loosens your lips and has you blabbing all your secrets and feelings to him in a horny fucked up haze. The blackmail potential with this dude is IMMENSE. He'd get you fucked up and delirious and film a cell phone shot of you taking his dick and threaten to show it to everyone he wants to unless you do whatever he says (and he's already showing it to people behind your back anyways, but, it's to be gross and coo over how cute and sexy you look taking his loads, stuff like that)

Valentino would take that passion and talent for music that you have and do something gross with it. Oh you're an actor, huh? Good, good, so your reaction will be experienced and authentic when he asks you to bring him a coffee on set and suddenly you're being literally dog-piled on by like 5 ripped hung hellhounds while cameras are rolling :) he thinks he might have an interest in your body, oh, suddenly there's a mandatory employee calendar photoshoot where you he to wear a thong or something skimpy and he can see everything but your genitals (and can tell whatever the situation down there is if you were trying to hide it. Fat ass? Exposed. Secretly a grower/hung? Exposed.)

At the end of the day you're his bottom bitch no matter how big or tough or maybe not even gay you are, because he even has lesbians cuddle up to him for Hot Girl Clout and that shit was on his Instagram. Everything's about him having pretty trophies and nice things and pampering himself while treating others like shit. Yeah, you'll be his little caged pet he obsesses over, but you'll be a very decorated, very well-fed, very financially spoiled little caged pet. If you're gonna get regularly railed by some nasty huge egotistical demon, it might as well come with some sweet perks like a deep bank account and all the luxuries his self-absorbed ass can afford, right?

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere stuff #valentino x reader #sinprompts

[eggluverz]

— STARRY NIGHT BAKERY

PAIRING. baker!dan heng x gn!reader

GENRE. bakery au!!!, modern au, fluff

CW. jealousy (a bit from dh)

WC. 3,901

SUMMARY. in which the cute baker down the street catches your eye and you decide to become a regular to keep seeing him.

NOTE. ahh this is prob my fav thing i’ve written on this blog so far AHSDKFK dan heng…as a baker…wearing apron…and rolled up sleeves showing his nice arms…kneading dough…I’M MELTING :> pls enjoy i hope u love baker dh as much as me mwhahaha

A light breeze blew across your face as you walked down the concrete pavement of the city. Small shops lined the streets as you went for your morning walk to get some fresh air before your busy day started. 

You were headed to a chain coffee shop, figuring you couldn’t go wrong with a latte to kickstart your morning. However, as you walked along the humming streets, you smelled a pleasant aroma of sweets and strawberries coming from an opened bakery door. 

The bakery had a artistic yet classic look to it. The doors were full glass with golden handles and golden trimmings. The words “Starry Night Bakery” were draped on the top of the building in a bold, cursive font. Elegant, but not overly embellished as to where it was difficult to read.

The inside was brightly lit, but the walls and countertop were where the name of the bakery really showed itself. You were immediately drawn to it, walking in before you could fully comprehend what you were doing. 

“Good morning,” you greeted as you spotted someone placing pastries behind the glass display case. 

He paused what he was doing to look over at you. “Good morning. Welcome to Starry Night Bakery.”

You watched as he finished placing the freshly baked muffins on the display racks. He had a name tag with the words “Dan Heng” written in the same font as the one used in front of the building. 

As he headed over to the cash register, you took note of the way his sleeves were folded over to reveal his forearms. They were slim, yet muscular enough that you noticed some veins showing through. His white button up was covered by a dark blue apron, wind and stars painted on the front canvas. 

“You haven’t been here before, correct?” he said, unable to recognize your face. 

You shook your head. “That’s right, this is my first time.”

“Let me know if you need any help on deciding what to get,” he offered, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. “My name’s Dan Heng, by the way.”

“Y/N!” you said cheerily. You looked over at the display case and examined all the pastries. They all seemed so good you didn’t know which to choose. “What do you recommend?”

“The strawberry croissant is our most popular item—and it happens to be my favorite as well.”

“I’ll go with that then!” You looked at the menu to see if they also had a latte similar to the one you were originally going to start your day with. “And can I also have a caramel latte with oat milk, please?”

Dan Heng nodded, pressing some buttons on the cash register. “Coming right up.” 

You tapped your card and made sure to include a hefty tip before making your way over to one of the tables to wait for your order. The chairs were soft and cushioned; it seemed like a nice place to sit and enjoy your small meal instead of eating it on the go. Life seemed to favor those who moved fast and hustled non-stop. Sitting and eating at this bakery would be a great way to encourage yourself to be more mindful of that. Plus, it didn’t hurt that the handsome baker was in here to keep you company.

Instead of calling out your order to pick up at the counter like you assumed, Dan Heng placed a steaming mug and a perfectly plated strawberry croissant on the table in front of you.

“I have your caramel, oat milk latte and strawberry croissant here,” he said, placing some napkins next to the plate. “Please let me know if you want any sugar or creamer for your latte.”

“I will, thank you so much!”

You expected him to walk back behind the counter, but he stood there, looking at you expectantly. You looked back at him, eyes wide, but figured he probably wanted to see your reaction to his favorite pastry. 

“Mmm,” you said, picking up the cream-filled croissant, “it smells so good.”

You took a generous bite of the pastry and instantly felt a burst of strawberry and cream in your mouth. The croissant itself was warm and flaky, the perfect vessel for the sweetness of the light filling. You instantly wanted another bite as soon as you swallowed the first.

A sigh of happiness escaped your lips as you smiled between bites. “Somehow, it tastes even better than it smells.”

Dan Heng nodded, his eyes lighting up with pride. “I’m glad you enjoyed. I’ll be in the kitchen, but if you need anything, you can ring the bell at the front counter.”

“Will do! Thank you for recommending this to me.”

“No worries.”

He left you alone at your table to enjoy your snack. A latte seemed to be the perfect companion for this strawberry cream croissant, so you took a long-awaited sip. It was strong and sweet, but you still wanted more sweetness. You were going to ask Dan Heng if you could add a bit of creamer to your cup.

Taking another bite of the croissant, you gathered your latte in your hands and stood up to walk to the counter.

The first sight you saw was Dan Heng in the kitchen—it was an open concept with glass windows that let the customers look into the preparation and baking areas. He had a small streak of flour on his cheek as he worked on kneading the dough with his hands. The image of Dan Heng folding and working the dough grew larger as you walked closer to the counter. You noticed the smaller details, such as another flour streak on the tip of his hair, and the tightening of the muscles on his arms as he kneaded the dough. 

You especially noticed his strong forearms being put to use and you got lost in your admiration for his craft. So focused on the sight of Dan Heng, you didn’t notice what was right in front of you. 

“Oh, no!” you gasped, feeling your full cup tip over as you crashed onto the countertop and lurched forward. You were able to stop yourself from faceplanting, but it was too late to save the latte from being spilt. 

At the sound of your cry, Dan Heng looked around in concern, placing his dough in a bowl and hiding it away in a drawer. He spotted you with an ashamed look on your face and headed over immediately.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” His concerned gaze switched between your embarrassed face and the unmissable spill on the counter. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said in a hurry, reaching for some napkins nearby and attempting to clean up your mess. “I stood up to ask for creamer and I wasn’t looking at where I was going and I walked right into the counter…” 

He placed his hand over yours to stop your futile attempts at cleaning the big spill up. He pulled out a rag that was strategically hung behind the cash register and wiped the latte up.

“Accidents happen, don’t worry about it,” said Dan Heng, trying to console you. You watched guiltily as he finished wiping the countertop down. “This is surprisingly not the first time this has happened, so don’t look so down.”

That wasn’t susprising. If anyone else were to lay their eyes on such an alluring sight, you reckoned they most likely crashed while staring too.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “I’m really sorry about the mess, but thank you for being so kind.”

He waved it off. 

As the morning went on, more customers came into the bakery to grab breakfast before work. You waved to Dan Heng as you gathered your belongings and got ready to continue on with your day and he waved back with a small smile. 

Despite the small mishap, you knew you had fallen in love with this place and would go back again soon. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Over the weeks, you found yourself frequenting Starry Night Bakery whenever you were free. Before work, after work, sometimes even on the weekend when you found yourself craving their strawberry croissants. 

You ended up getting to know the bakers more—mainly Dan Heng but you also met March 7th and Caelus. You learned that Dan Heng was a big reader who enjoyed anything from fiction romance to nonfiction philosophy and everything in between. He loved history but he was open to entertaining conspiracy theories to explore other perspectives. And, he made the best strawberry croissants. 

Today, you entered the bakery in the late morning on a weekend. 

“Hi, Y/N!” March 7th greeted you as soon as you walked in the doors. 

“Good morning!” you chirped, heading over to the counter. March 7th was currently behind the register while Dan Heng was behind the glass walls of the kitchen. He looked up at the noise and when you made eye contact, he waved at you with a smile. You waved back happily. 

She noticed the two of your exchanging glances and grinned. “Dan Heng! Switch places with me; I want to make the pastries. You can take Y/N’s order.”

Dan Heng’s cheeks tinged pink as he wiped his hands off on a clean towel. When he walked over to the cash register, March 7th gave him a big wink. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay actually!” you said to the both of them before they could finish switching roles. “I’m not ordering yet. I’m waiting for someone to join me first!” 

You had been raving about this bakery to your friends since you first had a bite of their pastries, and Gepard wanted to taste it for himself. The two of you happened to both be free this weekend, so you invited him to get some croissants with you. 

Dan Heng nodded. “Okay, when you’re ready just let us know.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled, but instead of finding a table for you and Gepard, you loitered around Dan Heng. “Have you read anything interesting recently?”

His countenance brightened at your interest. “Yes, I recently picked something up on Nikolas Tesla and his fascination with pyramids and energy. Modern scholars seem to agree those theories are more pseudoscience than anything else, but it’s interesting to understand his train of thought.”

“Oh! I’ve heard a conspiracy theory like that before. Something about how the Pyramids could have been energy generators…” 

As Dan Heng was about to reply, the front door chimed opened. You turned and saw a tall, blonde-haired man walk in. 

“Gepard!” you exclaimed, signaling him over. 

His eyes scanned the interior of the bakery before they landed on you. “Y/N! This place looks really nice.”

“Doesn’t it?” 

You bounced over to him, leading him to your favorite booth. It was against a wall covered in an interpretation of the infamous Starry Night painting. You always looked at the decor in awe, wondering how they managed to keep the ambiance so bright despite the night sky theme. 

“Stay here, I’ll order us the food! My treat,” you said with a grin.

Gepard immediately shook his head. “I should be the one treating you.”

You gave him a stern look of refusal. “I invited you here, so I’ll pay.” 

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at your determination. “Okay. Next time, I’ll invite you somewhere then.” 

“That would be acceptable,” you teased. “Now, wait here.” 

As you headed over to the cash register where Dan Heng stood—not too far from your booth—you noticed the slight frown on his face. 

“Hi again! I’m ready to order now,” you said cheerfully. 

“Okay. Ready.”

Your smile faltered. “Um— Right, I’ll have two strawberry croissants, a chocolate chip muffin, and a blueberry muffin, please!”

Gepard loved blueberry muffins, after all. And as much as the bakery’s strawberry croissants were the best on the menu, their muffins were more than delightful as well. 

Dan Heng nodded, noticeably averting eye contact the moment your gaze met his. You quirked your head to the side, confused and slightly concerned. “It’ll be ready soon.”

“Alright, thank you,” you said softly. You hesitated, shuffling from side-to-side. “Are you feeling okay?” 

His eyes widened slightly, a brief look of guilt crossing his face. “Yes, I just got a little tired there, I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. “Oh! I get that. It must be a difficult job moving around so much.” 

Feeling a little awkward, you started to headed back to Gepard, but not before you heard March 7th loudly whisper a, “What are you doing?!” to Dan Heng. 

You hoped you weren’t the reason Dan Heng felt upset or tired, but you figured it’d be best to let him process and cool off on his own. Besides, you had Gepard here to catch up with. 

The two of you chatted and laughed as you told stories about work and friends. He told you about a blind date his sister set him up on that went miserably, you mentioned some new hobbies you’ve been trying to get into. The strawberry croissants were just as amazing as always and Gepard enjoyed them as well. 

But throughout your meal, you couldn’t help but notice Dan Heng’s gaze occasionally on you. And apparently, so did Gepard. 

“Are you guys together?” Gepard murmured under his breath. “He keeps looking this way.”

You shook your head. “Together? No, we’re not.” 

He grinned, leaning in closer to your ear. “He’s looking pretty jealous for someone who’s not dating you.” 

Immediately, you turned to look at the front counter, only to make accidental eye contact with Dan Heng. His eyes widened and heat rose up to your cheeks. You almost gave yourself whiplash as you averted your gaze to the man in front of you. 

He stifled a laugh at the crazed expression on your face. “Why did you look right at him?” 

“What was I supposed to do after you said that?! I wanted to see for myself,” you said helplessly, hiding behind your hands. “He’s going to think I’m weird now, great.”

“He wouldn’t have even noticed if he weren’t looking at you in the first place,” reasoned Gepard. He took the last bite of his blueberry muffin and offered you some advice. “You can take this with a grain of salt since I haven’t seen the two of you interact regularly, but he definitely seems interested. And if my gut is correct, so are you.” 

You didn’t even bother denying it. How could you when the first day you saw Dan Heng you spilled an entire cup of coffee on the counter because you were busy gawking at his arms? Now that, you did not tell Gepard. Even you had some shame. 

“Well, if you do decide to do anything, just know I’m rooting for you!”

You laughed through your embarrassment, still grateful for his support. “I’ve been wanting to… But we’ll see.”

Gepard patted your head affectionately and you grinned as you swatted his hands away. You appreciated your friend for giving you a boost of confidence. Maybe this was just the push you needed to express your interest to Dan Heng. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The sky was blue and bright as you walked the city streets this morning to head over to your usual spot. The weather was warm out despite the day just starting and you basked in the bright sunlight. 

Today was a good day. And it was going to get even better. Because you were going to talk to Dan Heng about feelings. Your feelings, his feelings, all the things you were afraid to say. 

You realized that sounded a bit too dramatic. It wasn’t as if you were confessing your love or asking him to be your husband— You simply wanted to express that you started liking him and wanted to explore the potential of dating. There was nothing to fear!

At least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself as you opened the door to Starry Night Bakery. You took a deep breath, trying to act normal. After all, you were here first and foremost to get some breakfast and enjoy the bakers’ company. You should focus on enjoying your morning and talking to your bakery friends, then things with Dan Heng would come naturally to you. You hoped. 

When the door chimed open, you spotted both Dan Heng and March 7th at the front counter. March 7th was placing the pastries in the display case while Dan Heng restocked the napkins. 

“Hi, Y/N!” March 7th greeted, looking up when she heard you enter. “How’s your morning been?”

You brightened up the moment you saw her. “Great! It’s so nice out? How was your guys’ morning so far?”

“Also good! We tried a new combination of flavors for our cream croissants. You should try one! On the house.” 

You beamed, excited at the prospect of being the first to taste one of their new creations. You were certain it’d taste amazing. “I’d love that!” After a pause, you focused your attention on Dan Heng, looking at him expectantly. “And how are you?”

“I’ve been good,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You weren’t sure why he seemed sad, but you knew you wanted to see him feel better. A moment of silence passed by before you asked a question you knew he normally loved answering. “Did you learn anything interest recently?” 

He nodded. “Yes, but I already told March 7th.”

You pursed your lips, your stomach dropping. “Oh. Okay.” 

March 7th looked between the two of you, shaking her head as she slowly escaped to the kitchen area, leaving you and Dan Heng alone. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, trying to find ways to fill the awkward silence you were not yet accustomed to with Dan Heng.

“Have you ever wondered what a cloud would feel like?” was the first thing you thought to blurt out. The clouds were big and fluffy during your walk earlier, so it was only natural that was the first place your mind went to.

He cracked a smile—a tiny, but real one this time—at that. “Unfortunately, they wouldn’t feel as soft as they appear. Clouds are vaporized water, after all. I believe it would feel like a steam of sorts. But if you were to touch one high enough, you’d likely feel ice droplets.”

You listened to him eagerly. You were sad the answer wasn’t “as fluffy as cotton candy!” but you were happy Dan Heng was talking to you normally.

“This is one of my favorite things about you,” you stated as if you were talking about the weather. “You never want to stop learning and growing and it shows on even small topics such as clouds. I could listen to you for hours, I think.”

If he was startled by your candor, he didn’t show it, instead examining you thoughtfully. “I enjoy listening to you as well.”

You grinned happily. “Then we always need to keep talking and listening to each other, okay?”

Dan Heng gave a hum of acknowledgement.

Feeling as if your friendship was back to normal, you felt more comfortable talking to him about whatever came to mind.

“By the way, Gepard said he loved the strawberry croissant yesterday! He said we’ll definitely eat here again!”

You expected Dan Heng to feel happy after hearing the compliment about his bakery, but instead, his countenance visibly fell. “Oh.”

You blinked. It seemed he didn’t like hearing about Gepard. Either he didn’t like Gepard—which was impossible, really—or he didn’t like that it was you mentioning him. You decided to carefully test your hypothesis by continuing to talk about him.

“He said he would love to try a mango version, actually!”

“I don’t think mango suits our pastries.”

You eyed the fruit tart with mango cubes on top. “Right…” A moment of silence passed between the two of you as you wondered what exactly was going on. You kept pushing. “Gerard liked the blueberry muffin.”

“We’ve been thinking of discontinuing that.” 

You laughed in shock, not fully believing your ears. “Dan Heng! You are not actually considering taking the classic blueberry muffin off the menu.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Dan Heng,” you called again, voice singsongy. There was a look of mischief on your face. This wasn’t how you anticipated bringing this up, but it seemed like an opportunity had presented itself. “Are you jealous?”

You heard a squeal from the kitchen, but when you looked in the direction of the noise, the only thing you saw was a flash of pink hair ducking away from view. You turned back to Dan Heng. He looked lost in thought, his eyebrows furrowed as lips slightly downturned.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. He paused. “I don’t know if I’m jealous of Gepard. But my chest feels tight, my body feels tense, and I feel upset at the thought of you and him together. If that is jealousy…then, yes.”

“Definitely sounds like jealousy to me!” cried March 7th, still hiding away in the other room.

Dan Heng’s face tinged pink and you started laughing at her antics. 

“Dan Heng,” you said with a bright grin. “You don’t have to be jealous. Gepard is just a friend. And he can’t make the delicious strawberry croissants like you can. Trust me, I think you’re like…ultimate boyfriend material.”

You were only half-teasing, but you still meant every word you said.

He smiled and a look of relief washed over him. “You guys just seemed very happy together. I thought it was a date. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it! I’m just glad to have this cleared up.”

It felt like your body was buzzing in excitement. Not only did you clear up any potential awkwardness with Dan Heng, but you found out that he was jealous of Gepard. Now, it seemed like the next conclusion to reach was that he was jealous of Gepard because he was interested in you. 

“So… Ultimate boyfriend material,” Dan Heng repeated your earlier words. “What exactly does that entail?”

You thought about it for a second. “In general, it’s someone dependable and trustworthy. For me in particular,” you said, eyeing him hopefully, “it’s all that plus a history and philosophy nerd. Plus, someone who can bake the best strawberry croissants. Maybe someone like you?”

He chuckled, taken aback by your straightforward response. You looked up at him, slowly batting your lashes. Crinkles formed on the side of his eyes as his smile widened. The mood was light and happy, and you felt like nothing in the world could bring you down.

“Care to find out if your assessment is correct?” he asked, extending a hand out for you to place yours in.

“I’d love to!” You nodded, feeling the warmth of his fingers on the palm of your hand. His thumb slowly ran across your knuckles and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Do you want to go on a date, Dan Heng?”

You held your breath as you waited for his response. He started off as a nice baker in a shop you ran into one random morning, then he became your friend, and now he was on the cusp of being something more. The story was sweeter than the cream in your strawberry croissant.

“With you?” said Dan Heng, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Always.”

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng #hsr fanfiction #hsr imagines #hsr fanfic #dan heng fanfic #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #honkai star rail x you #dan heng fluff #hsr fluff

[bia-wayne-west]

Boyfriend — Hwang Hyunjin X Reader

Summary: You are one of JYP Entertainment's makeup artists and are in a secret relationship with Hwang Hyunjin.

Warnings: Fluffy, a little smut, hot, secret dating.

A/N: This is my first k-pop imagine, I hope it's good. Remembering that I'm Brazilian and I don't speak fluent English, so please forgive any writing errors you find.

Request are open

MASTERLIST

I ran towards JYP's door, knowing I was late. My alarm clock didn't go off, and I had to take a taxi to avoid being too late.

I wished good morning to the security guard, who let me through with a smile on his face. He was really nice, and even offered to help me carry my heavy backpacks when I needed to take makeup and brushes to the car.

She had been working for JYP for three years, being the makeup artist for a single group during that time. I was assigned to Stray Kids from the first day, and I was very well received by everyone.

The boys are always very kind, and include you in conversations, they don't treat you like a robot but like another human being. I also go on tour with them, so everyone's makeup looks perfect for any occasion.

It was during one of the trips that what no one expected happened. During one night of the show, it was very cold and I hadn't brought any coat. Furthermore, I really missed my family who lived in another country. When I least expected it, Hyunjin appeared, offering me his sweater.

He sat next to me, on the floor, and started talking to me. We had already had interactions together, but this was the first time I was alone with him.

After the show, I received a turkey breast sandwich from one of the staff, with his cell phone number. We started talking a lot.

It didn't take long for Hyunjin invited me on a date, and I thought a lot before accepting. That was four months ago, and we've been dating ever since.

It's extremely confusing to date an idol, especially when you work for their company. We cannot be together in public, nor show feelings around the staff.

If anyone found out, I would be fired, and if our relationship became public, Hyunjin could be kicked out of Stray Kids.

“How are you, Y/N?” Felix said, sitting in the high chair in the makeup room. He had clips in his hair, while Hani, my professional colleague, applied foundation to his face. “Did you wake up very late?”

“My alarm clock’s fault.” I said, throwing my bag on one of the dressers. I sanitized my hand with some alcohol gel and read my schedule for the day.

I should do makeup on Changbin and Lee MinHo, and then I should only be available in case one of them needs to touch up their foundation or powder.

“Good morning, Changbin.” I said, pulling out the chair for the man to sit down. He laughed, sitting down and starting to scroll through his smartphone. “What is today's event?” I asked.

“Let's take photos for our new album, and then we can leave.” He explained.

“So, I will apply more natural makeup on you , okay?” I said, and he nodded, agreeing. I did the makeup, and after that, I met with MinHo, who talked the whole time.

After that, I sat at one of the tables in the break room, waiting for someone to need me. I bought a coffee from one of the vending machines, so my tiredness would disappear.

“Unnie?” Hani called me, with her hands crossed behind her back and a grimace on her face. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Yes.” I said, throwing the disposable cup in the trash. “What do you need me to do?”

“Can you help one of the boys in my place?” She asked. “I have to leave early today, and EunHee told me that I could only go if I finished my work.”

“Who's the last boy you have to put makeup on?”

“Hyunjin.” She said.

“Of course, I can do his makeup for you.” I said, with a small smile on my face, almost imperceptible.

“Thank you, Y/N, you are an angel.” She thanked, bowing and leaving celebrating. “I'll take you to barbecue tomorrow, as thanks.” Hani shouted at me, making me laugh.

I went to the makeup room, seeing that most of the group members were no longer present. Hyunjin was already sitting in the chair, and Felix was waiting for the hairdresser to finish fixing his hair.

“Hi.” I whispered to my boyfriend, seeing him smile when he saw me.

“Hello, jagiya.” He said, also in a low tone. “I almost celebrated when Hani told me she would ask you to do my makeup instead of her.”

The brunette threw his head back, with a wide smile. He had his hair tied up and his face clean.

“Oppa, how do you want your makeup?” I wanted to know. It was bold to be so intimate with him, but Felix knew about our relationship, as did the rest of Stray Kids, and they kept it quiet.

“Do what you think is best, beautiful.” He murmured close to me, emphasizing the final sentence. “I trust you."

“You shouldn't trust me." I commented, taking a little of the foundation of his tone and depositing it on the acrylic plate. I chose one of the sponges, starting to apply the product to his soft skin. “I could do ridiculous makeup on you.”

“It would still be good, because you made it.” He argued, making me laugh.

“Oppa, you are so cheesy.” I spoke, a little louder than I should have , attracting Felix's attention, who looked at us, laughing.

He looked at his friend, seeing that Felix was making fun of us. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, looking back at me.

“When we finish the photos, we will have the day free.” He said. “I want you to go to my apartment.” Hyunjin suggested.

“I have to finish organizing the product counter.” I explained. “ can't go today.” I whispered, looking for concealer in the drawers.

“You do this every day, and the other makeup artists take advantage of it.” He said. “No one will die if you don't wash your brushes or store your foundations. Other makeup artists never do this, they leave all the work to you. This is not just your obligation.”

“Oppa, But what if my boss gives me a warning?”

“Stop worrying, Y/N. The other staff have to clean up their own mess, instead of waiting for you to clean it up.” Hyunjin raised his eyes, looking at the ceiling as I applied concealer to his dark circles, which were barely visible. “Let's go to my apartment, I have a surprise for you.”

“It's okay, Hyunjin.”I whispered, bringing my face closer to his. “I'll come to your apartment as soon as I can leave.”

He smiled broadly.

“You won't regret it, jagiya.”

I finished the makeup, applying small layers of lip tint to his lips. I forced myself not to give him a kiss, seeing him smile at me, almost guessing my thoughts.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He thanked me, getting up from the chair and looking at me. He walked past me and sat on the couch next to Felix, starting an animated conversation with his friend.

[...]

After saying goodbye to my colleagues, I requested a taxi through the app, entering the address of the building where Hyunjin lived. It wasn't too far from the company, but it would take a long time if I walked.

I didn't have time to touch up my makeup, so I took advantage of my time in the elevator to reapply my lipstick and blush.

His apartment was on the fifteenth floor, and had an electronic door lock. Even though we had only been dating for a few months, Hyunjin told me what the password was. After entering the code, I opened the door.

The light in the living room was on, and when I entered the room, I heard the sound of water coming from the master bedroom, indicating that he was taking a shower.

“My love?” I called him, closing the door and walking to the suite bathroom. “I already arrived.”

“Honey?” He asked, and as soon as I confirmed, I heard the sound of the shower turning off. After a few seconds, the door opened, revealing my boyfriend, with wet hair and underwear.

He had a white towel in his hands, and started to dry his hair, while I sat on his bed, watching him walk around the room. Hwang went to the closet, coming back with sweatpants and a white t”shirt.

“Come closer.” He pulled me by the hand, making me stand up. I was inches away from his body.

Hyunjin closed the distance between us, pressing his soft lips against mine. My hands went towards his neck. He was a little taller than me, meaning I had to stand on tiptoe to reach him.

His mouth was wet and sweet, with the minty breath of someone who had just taken a shower. My boyfriend's left hand reached my hip, while his right went towards my face, caressing me.

I started running my fingers through his soft hair, the soft, wonderful smell of the shampoo. Hyunjin's perfume had a woody tone, with the soft scent of roses and a slightly discreet refreshment. It looked like paradise.

Reluctantly, he turned away from me, with a wide smile that made his eyes close.

“I have something for you.” He announced, pulling me into the living room. Hyunjin told me to sit down, while he went to his small painting studio, returning with a painting in hand. “I did something, and I think it might please you.” The idol smiled, shyly, handing me the painting.

It was packaged, with grass green wrapping paper and a small bow. He waited anxiously, watching me open the package.

As soon as I took out the paper, I let out a surprised sigh.

It was me.

He had painted me. Made my portrait.

It was a prettier version of me, much more beautiful than I saw myself in the mirror. Hyunjin painted me with a smile on my face, and without lipstick or eye shadow. It was so beautiful I almost couldn't stop looking at it.

“Happy four month anniversary together.” He said, making a shy face, seeming to fear that I wouldn't like the gift.

“Hyunjin...” I tried to say, but I couldn't stop admiring the beautiful way my boyfriend saw me. “ It's so beautiful...” I said, in a whisper.

“Did you like it?” He wanted to know.

“I loved.” I confessed, smiling. I placed the painting carefully on the couch, and stood up, facing my boyfriend. “But I didn't buy you anything, sorry...”

I bit my lip, feeling ashamed that I had forgotten that today was our anniversary.

“I don't need any gifts, Y/N.” He said. “You are my greatest and best gift.”

I laughed, throwing my head back.

“I’? really sorry, love.” I said, running her hand over his face.

Hyunjin held my hand, leading me to the kitchen.

“Stop it, I told you I don’t need anything.” The rapper said. I sat in the chair, watching him take dishes from the fridge. I offered help, but he refused. “The surprise is not over yet.”

“Do you have one more surprise for me?” I asked when I smelled the tasty aroma coming from the dishes.

“I cooked for you.” He announced, taking the lid off the container and showing me the food he had prepared. “Tteokbokki!” He said, proudly.

“You did that?” I asked, surprised.

He smiled, grabbing clean dishes from the cupboard. Hwang also placed two glasses and glasses on the table.

“I wanted to do something special for you, darling.” He said. “I always go to your house and eat the food you make, so I wanted to give back.”

I smiled at him, helping myself to a portion of the meal. My boyfriend also bought bottles of Soju and some wine. Because he was the oldest, he insisted on serving me the drink.

“Thanks.” II thanked him. “Everything is perfect, Hyunjin.”

I ate the first spoonful, tasting the food. He also tasted it, making a small face, usual when he liked something.

“It's so good.” I spoke.

The rapper and I finished eating, and even though I offered to wash the dishes, he forbid me from going near the sink. The brunette invited me to see a horror movie.

I sat down on the soft sofa, right next to him. Hyunjin began the horror film, adjusting himself on the upholstery. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the idol's hand slide over my shoulder, caressing me.

We hugged for most of the movie, until he put his hand on my thigh. It was an innocent gesture, but the hair on my body stood up, and I bit my lip, deciding to stop the movie.

I pulled the rapper by the neck, making him turn towards me. I kissed him very cheerfully. He returned the gesture, taking his hand off my thigh and placing it on my face.

In a bold move, I lay down on the couch, pulling him on top of me. Hyunjin wasn't heavy, but he still stayed on his knees so he didn't put all his weight on me.

The kiss continued, and the man let his mouth roam my face, distributing kisses until he reached my neck. I wore a black tank top, which left him free to leave me with several hickeys.

I took my hand to the hem of his shirt, letting it penetrate the fabric, feeling his slim abdomen. I felt him get goosebumps from my touch, and I gave a cheeky smile when I saw that Hyunjin kissed my breasts.

Suddenly, he stopped, sitting on the sofa and taking off his t”shirt, leaving just his pants on. I smiled when I saw the red marks I had left on his skin, probably my neck was equally marked.

“We're going to miss the end of the movie.” He said, laughing.

“We can see it again tomorrow.” I spoke. “However, we would lose the ending the same way.”

The brunette came back on top of me, taking his hands to the hem of my blouse, asking permission with his eyes. I nodded, biting my lip and stretching my arms to help him with the task of getting me naked.

Hyunjin unbuttoned my dark wash jeans, and pulled them off, throwing them on the living room floor. The man looked at me, seeing that I was wearing a burgundy lingerie set.

“You are beautiful.” He said.

I smiled.

“You too, Hyun.” I said, pulling him again so that he was on top of me.

The idol's mouth went straight towards my breasts, which were still covered by the bra. I let out a low moan, caressing the back of his neck.

Hyunjin continued moving down with his lips, placing kisses down my abdomen, and stopping at my panties. He sent me a smile. To my surprise, he came towards my lips again, kissing me.

I reciprocated, letting the rapper's tongue enter my mouth.

My nails made small welts on the man's pale back, who sighed at the sensation.

“I love you.” He confessed, between the kiss.

“I love you.” I said, feeling his hand go down my body, stopping at my panties. The feeling was wonderful, and he looked at me, as if asking if he could continue with the touches. If I think, I kissed him again, authorizing Hyunjin to do whatever he wanted with my body.

#hyunjin #imagine #insert reader #fanfiction #fic #fluffy #smut #stray kids #stray kids imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #lee felix #bang chan #lee know #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #imagine hot #fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #x reader #bangchan x reader #felix x reader #lee know x reader

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Would they peel an orange for you?

Yes, I saw the TikToks and thought about doing it before I remember I don't have boyfriend

Yes, unprompted

Thoma

There is approximately 30-40 minutes between the time Thoma gives ayato his evening tea and when ayaka needed to be escorted to town.

And like clockwork Thoma would be waiting for you under a tree in the residence, on a somewhat secluded corner with a tray with two tea cups and a little platter with cut up solsettias and oranges.

Even if one day you arrive early where he is still getting settled and just about to start peeling and ask to do it for him he just smiles but refuses with his head.

“ Don't worry about it! Why don't you drink the tea? It's a new blend that arrived today, though you would like it”

Childe ( he is used to peeling fruit for his sibling)

Itto ( hear me out, he hears a girl mention a novel where the main character gets fed apple slices while sick and how attentive that was and immediately starts a competition with nobody to prove himself the 'bestest' boyfriend ever"

Yes, if asked

Zhongli

He doesn't have the same nutritional needs as humans, where we would need variety of vegetables and fruits, grains and meat in his dragon form he only needs three cows every month, now as a human his metabolism had slowed significantly, even then it would be strange to only buy kilos of meat once a month and nothing else.

That is where you help him out, going to his house for diner and lunch to not let the good rot.

“ I saw green tangerine at the stall and decided to buy them” zhongli settles the fabric bag on the table “It reminded me of such a delectable tea I had a while ago, I guessed I would have my hand at it, it will take at most 10 years only”

“ Tea inside tangerines? It sounds nice. Do you think I can eat one, I never had one” he nods from the kitchen putting away a bag of rice and other things while he mumbles about only needing the skin “I don't really want to peel it though… Can you peel it for me?”

Zhongli looks at you, head slightly turned but he smiles as he answers “ as you wish” he walks to the table and grabs a knife, before skillfully cutting the skin and stabbing a wedge “open wide”

Kaveh

Kaveh might work as an architect, loving the flow and composition of his buildings, but that love extends further away to other areas of art, from painting to rug making to clothes, so when you ask him for help when remodeling your home ( you paying) he was on cloud nine.

Walking and haggling the price all around the grand bazaar from 7 am (he insisted all the good things arrived early) to 3 pm was expectedly tiring to your legs and to your head, seeing how happy kaveh was with a 20 mora discount. So when you two stopped at alhaitham’s house to leave some bags you threw yourself on the ergonomic couch that was on the living room.

“Oh, we didn't stop to drink anything all morning, do you want some water and…” you could hear him rummaging around the shared kitchen for something to offer “ … some oranges?”

You only sigh but nod, even if you knew he wouldn't see “ water is fine. I don't want to peel anything, I hate how the smell lingers on my fingers”

Kaveh brings a jug with cool water “ I can peel it for you if you want, I don't really mind”

“... Yes, please “

Diluc ( would ask a maid the first time but when they tell him what it means he starts peeling it himself)

Neuvillete (furina said it was something sweet between lovers and it stuck with him)

Wriothesley

Not really/ doesn't find the point:

Alhaitham

At breakfast he doesn't like to eat heavy, not wanting to dirty his kitchen before going to work and not having much appetite so early. Usually a warm cup of tea or coffee and a bit of fruit or bread.

Seeing as he was picking an apple from the bowl on the kitchen you ask him to pick you an orange to which he only nods and grabs you a knife.

Leaving it in front of you he sits on the contrary chair and bites through the apple and sips his tea.

“ I don't really want to peel it, though… maybe someone could do it for me” you look at him, hinting at him

“ Do you want an apple then? You don't have to peel it” he doesn't look up from the book on the table even as you sighs

Wanderer (rat man)

Kaeya ( does it because you asked him but doesn't find the point in asking him for such a small favor. Prefers showing love/care in other ways)

#genshin impact #gi #genshin impact diluc #diluc #thoma x reader #genshin thoma #gemshin childe #childe #itto #genshin itto #zhongli #zhongli x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin impact kaveh #genshin zhongli #neuvillete #wriothesley #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #wanderer #kaeya #📕 drabble #drabble

[morganski-19]

The One Where It All Started

This takes place about a year before the rest of the posts will be taking place. Just to set the stage before the real schnenanigans start.

“So I said that was a terrible idea, because there was barely any research done so it would be misleading to the readers, right,” Nancy continued her story about the piece she’s been working on at work.

“Yeah, that would make me pissed,” Robin added, following along.

Nancy nods in agreement as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Exactly. I would rather print nothing than something they made up. But of course, the boss doesn’t think so. I’m thinking of dropping the project, so my name isn’t attached to it, but then that just means I ‘didn’t have faith in the work’. No shit I don’t, it’s completely fake.”

“Fuck those guys,” Steve adds, partially listening as he’s grading his student’s assignments.

Jonathan and Argyle walk into the café, finding the group at their normal seats and joining them.

“My dudes,” Argyle bellows. “How’s it going?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Nancy groans.

Jonathan winces. “Those assholes at work again?”

“Yes,” Nancy exclaims. “I need to find another job but this is the best I could get after school.”

“Could be worse,” Robin adds.

“I know, I just hate working there.”

Steve stares at the paper in front of him with a confused expression. “What do you guys think of this one?”

He turns the paper around to reveal a hand turkey covered with red drops resembling blood. What would normally be the feathers are now plucked off and surrounding the turkey leaving the pink underneath. Or at least that’s what it looks like. It could just be pink feathers and a turkey standing on a pile of leaves. But that wouldn’t explain the X’s for eyes.

“Are you seriously grading hand turkeys right now?” Robin rolls her eyes. “And you think your job is hard.”

“Try to teach a bunch of first graders basic math after they’re all hyper from recess and then get back to me. And it’s not just hand turkeys. There’s also spelling tests somewhere in here.”

Jonathan takes the paper from Steve’s hand, showing it to Argyle better with a very concerned glare. “I think you might need to talk to this kid.”

“He drew a murdered turkey, dude. Kid’s got issues.”

Steve takes the picture back, assessing it more. “I mean, those could be leaves.”

Robin points to the picture. “And that’s not blood.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to the kid.” Steve turns it over and sees the name. “Wait, this is Bobby’s. His parents hunt wild turkeys. That’s normal.”

A man with long, brown curly hair approaches the group, wearing a leather jacket with a band tee and black jeans. “Sorry to interrupt but, Wheeler?” He turns toward Nancy, pointing softly at her.

“Oh my god, Eddie?” Nancy smiles standing up to give him a hug. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Eh, it’s been better. But you, I saw the article you did last month. Best thing I ever read in the news.” Eddie sits down on the chair across from Nancy.

Steve is trying his hardest not to stare and keep grading his stack of papers, but it’s hard. Robin elbows him in the side and widens her eyes in a “Really?”. Steve shrugs in his defense, taking a sip of his mocha. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Aw, thank you. I worked hard on that. What are you up to now?”

“Kinda between jobs at the moment. I work as a freelance artist but I’m taking a break from that becoming a tattoo apprentice.”

“That is so cool, dude,” Argyle interrupts from across the table.

Nancy has a moment of realization. “Right. Eddie, these are my friends. Robin, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. Guys, this is my old friend from high school, Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.”

The group replies with varied greetings, Steve and Eddie holding eye contact a bit longer than the rest of the group does. Resulting with another jab in Steve’s ribs from Robin. He yells at her with his eyes for her to stop.

“So, do you live in the city now?” Nancy goes back to addressing just Eddie.

He scratches at his chin with a pained faced. “Kinda. Moved here to live with my ex a few months ago. And then he sort of cheated on me, so I’m trying to find somewhere else, but money’s kind of tight right now.”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Nancy winces. “I’m sorry.”

“Is what it is.”

Nancy turns to Robin, whispering something in her ear. Robin shrugs and whispers something back.

“You know, if you wanted to, no pressure or anything,” Nancy starts. “But, my old roommate just moved out and I’m looking for a new one. It’s a nice place my grandma rents to me so it’s rent controlled. I know we haven’t talked much since high school, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“Have to think about it, and see the place. But that might be nice.”

“And you’d live across from me and Steve,” Robin adds, earning her an elbow to the ribs.

Eddie smiles flirtatiously. “Well that does sweeten the pot.” He notices the hand turkey still laying on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with that hand turkey?”

“I already said I would talk to the kid,” Steve groans.

“Why is this is this kid going on turkey hunting trips anyway,” Jonathan asks, concerned.

Steve shrugs. “How would I know, not my kid.”

Argyle reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a joint, handing it to Steve. “For your troubles.”

“This group is great,” Eddie laughs to himself, already agreeing to Nancy’s offer in his head.

General information about the fic here

Tag list (just tagged everyone who seemed interested, let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417

#stranger things #stranger thigns fanfic #freinds au #steddie #ronance #jargyle #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #spicy six apartment schenanigans #morgan's friends au

[fictionismyreality3]

Hold Still

Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Tags: Tattoo Artist!Bucky, innocent!reader if you squint, sorta mutual pining, comfort, fluff

Warnings: tattoos and everything that comes with them

Word Count: 3k

Notes: EEEEEE this is my first oneshot on this blog 🥳 as always not really proofread im not sorry 🤓 I wanted to add like grumpy x sunshine underlines and BARK BARk tattoo artist Bucky 😩🙏🏻 Peace out my homies ✌🏻

The sound of your shoe tapping against the checkered linoleum floor tile filled the waiting room of "Brooklyn's Best Tattoos". It was raining outside and the streets were quiet aside from the occasional horn of an angry driver or a street seller trying to get their final deals for the day. Your bright yellow umbrella stood out against the walls of chipped black paint and a smokey atmosphere.

You kept your gaze flitting about the room, landing on the magazines on a coffee table and stickers placed haphazardly across various furniture. The few people sitting across from you reflected the vibe of the tattoo shop perfectly. Darkly eccentric clothes, skin painted with ink, and a tired look to their eyes.

When you had booked this tattoo appointment you didn't know what to expect. And now, sitting with an awkward stiffness in the hardbacked waiting room chair, you began to question your decision. How embarrassing would it be if you just got up and left? Surely you could get a refund?

It had been 3 months since your Grandpa Henry had passed away, and you didn't want his existence to be some fleeting memory, you had to get something permanent for him. You had been planning on getting some art commission to hang up in your apartment, but that fantasy was quickly dashed by your rather thin wallet.

Even though it was a leap in your confidence, you settled on getting a tattoo. For the past few weeks, the nerves have been building up as you spent your free time researching tattoo shops and what a tattoo would even feel like.

The idea of having your skin permanently marked by something that could end up horrible to look at was more than a bit troubling. That's why you settled on something small and somewhere inconsequential. Sorry Grandpa, but you're going to have to be content out of the spotlight.

Calling the shop was the easy part. It was effortless to talk to the nice lady on the phone about your ideas and listen to her babble on about the latest news. But, now that you were sitting in the waiting room, anticipating the pain of the needles that were soon to be in your skin, you couldn't help but squirm in your seat.

You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts as a woman with tawny skin and bright, neon-pink hair came into the waiting room and called over another young woman to follow her. They walked into the back, or wherever they kept the tattoo rooms, and you noticed with a sigh the ease at which the young woman walked towards inevitable pain.

"Are you the 6 o'clock?" A familiar voice broke through your haze of thoughts. You vaguely placed it as the woman you spoke to on the phone when you booked you an appointment.

Scanning her over, you took in her friendly smile and ostentatious (and probably fake) jewelry, putting a face to the voice. "Yeah, that's me." You answered after a second.

She smiled brightly. She had an almost motherly look to her and a warm and comforting demeanour. Looking around at the peeling linoleum floor, the sticker-covered walls, and the various riff-raff who were inking memories and stories onto their skin, you had a passing thought that she was like the empress of the little tattoo parlour. Her beads and glued-on rhinestones would make a marvellous crown.

You had a quick discussion about price and confirmed what you were getting and then she led you down a short hallway and into a room. As you broke the threshold your ears were filled with 40s music and the soft, low sound of a man humming along. Your eyes drifted over to the source of the voice, who soon spun his stool around to reveal an alarmingly handsome face. Bright blue eyes met yours and your heart did a little somersault in your chest.

"Don't you worry, baby. This is Bucky, he'll take real good care of you." She patted your back and drifted back out of the room, her ebony skin disappearing down the hallway and out of view. As you stood awkwardly near the door, your gaze took in the rest of the room. It was dark and moody, and you figured that each artist must get to decorate their studio to their liking. The cart holding the ink, needles and other supplies stood next to one of those lay-down chairs that the person getting tattooed sits in. The man, Bucky, was already looking at you when you met his gaze again.

"Nervous, huh?" He chuckled lowly.

Your cheeks lit up in a hot blush as you were suddenly aware of how long you had been spacing out. "This is my first tattoo. Why? Was it that obvious?" You asked.

"Pretty obvious, yeah. S'okay. Why don't you sit down for me?" He grinned.

Ignoring the way his voice was like butter, you hopped up on the chair in the middle of the room. The leather was soft against your skin and you traced the tiny cracks in the fabric with your fingers, thinking about how many people had sat there before you. Rolling his stool over to the side of your chair, he grabbed a sketchbook from the cart next to you.

"So, what are you thinking of?" He asked casually as his eyes focused on you.

"I wanted to get an anchor for my grandpa." As you spoke, you got out your phone, pulling out the inspirational photos you had been endlessly looking over, tilting the screen so he could see. You watched as he scrutinized the photos, his brow furrowed in focus as if he was translating the pixels to ink in his mind.

After a second, he looked back up at you with a lazy grin. "Yeah, I can do that no problem."

He was already reaching over for his pens to start sketching the drawing onto transfer paper, and your eyes followed the careful movements, tracing the ink that covered his arms. There was barely an inch of uncovered skin.

The whole drawing took less than fifteen minutes, and the silence was comfortably filled with Bucky rambling about when he got his first tattoo. His low, slightly raspy voice covered you like a blanket, settling over you and calming your nerves. By the time he was finished with the sketch, you had already begun to warm up to him, making small talk that was somehow not awkward.

As he showed you the final version of the sketch, your nerves were calmed even more. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. You talked placement and sizing until the time finally came for the sketch to be transferred onto your skin.

"Alright, so.. on your thigh?" He said warmly.

"I read that it was one of the less painful areas." You said as you ran your fingers over your skin which was soon to be filled with ink. You had worn a skirt so that you didn't have to change or lose any modesty. The last thing you wanted was to flash your tattoo artist, especially now that you got one who was incredibly hot.

"Smart girl." He muttered in passing as he prepped the transfer paper.

You were sure it was just a casual expression, but you couldn't fight the way your cheeks flushed at the compliment. No sooner than you had that thought, Bucky had rolled his stool back over to the chair and had the transfer in his hand.

"Can I?" He asked expectantly.

You looked at him confused for a second before you caught up and inched your skirt up so he could transfer the tattoo onto your thigh.

"Right. Sorry." You watched the way he chuckled to himself as he pressed the sketch into your skin. His hands were warm even through the black latex gloves.

He started getting his needles and ink prepared and you fell back into easy conversation. "Why the anchor? Is your 'pops navy or something?" He asked curiously.

"He was, yeah." You said softly.

You didn't miss the way his hands, which were going through the motions of prepping the tattoo gun as if they had done so a million times before, stilled for just a second. His jaw ticked and he cleared his throat and resumed his preparations.

"Sorry for your loss. My family is army." He said quietly after a moment. You took the distraction of his past eagerly, wanting to think of something other than your Grandpa.

"Are you?" You asked carefully.

"I was, yeah. Now I do this." He said and gestured around the room. "You ready?"

Your awareness was suddenly brought back to the impending pain you were about to feel as your eyes locked on the tattoo gun hovering closer and closer to your skin. Your heart rate spiked as a pang of anxiety ran through your chest and your thoughts began to spiral. How long would it take? How much would it hurt? What if it got infected? As if he could sense your suddenly fearful thoughts, Bucky lowered the tattoo gun.

"Hey, it'll be fine. I've been doing this for years and you chose a really small design. It'll be over before you know it." He spoke reassuringly.

With a nod from you, he raised the tattoo gun, one hand on your thigh to steady himself, and made the first line. The pricking pain hit you instantly. It was sharp and stung like you were getting a vaccination or blood drawn. You always had a low pain tolerance, and don't know why that piece of knowledge decided to hide in your brain until now. If you knew it would have hurt this much, maybe you would have changed your mind. A whimper bubbled past your lips embarrassingly. Bucky's eyes darted up to yours, his brows furrowed with a little too much concern for someone you just met.

"Hey, hey, hey.. deep breath. You're okay. That's it…" He cooed soothingly.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands and tried to mimic the way Bucky was breathing. Even though he was actively tattooing you, he kept his hand on your skin, watching your expression carefully. It was big enough to cover the entire width of your thigh. The latex of his glove suddenly felt far too thin. When he was satisfied you reached somewhat of a calmer state, he resumed his work, the needles pricking your skin once more.

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get this done." He muttered, almost to himself.

You closed your eyes to distract yourself, but it only made you more focused on the pain of the tattoo gun. But then the pain was paired with the calming touch of Bucky stroking the skin of your thigh with his steadying hand. Your eyes peeked open to the sight of him focusing, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in concentration. Well, that's certainly distracting. You were all too aware of the way your skirt was pushed up. Even though it was for the sake of the tattoo, it was beginning to feel far too hot. As if he could feel your eyes on him, Bucky's gaze snapped up to yours and you quickly looked away.

The silence was filled with the quiet buzzing of the tattoo gun and Bucky humming along to the music playing on the radio. You were doing okay. You were gritting your teeth and bearing through it, not wanting to embarrass yourself further in front of your stupidly attractive tattoo artist. But it was late and you were getting tired. The pain was steadily growing from a dull ache into an overwhelming sting. You didn't even realize you were whining until the needles were no longer pricking your skin and Bucky was putting the tattoo gun down.

"Shh, it's okay, princess. We can take a break, yeah?" He said gently.

His hands were on your thighs as he rubbed your skin comfortingly, and you couldn't help but want to whine for a different reason.

"How much longer?" You asked with a wavering voice. Bucky's eyes softened, and he glanced at the half-finished anchor on your thigh and back up to you.

"We're almost done. You ready to get going again?" He asked as he picked up the tattoo gun.

Not trusting your voice, you elected simply to nod. As the pain returned, your nails dug into the leather of the chair, and you wondered if that's where the cracks you saw earlier came from. You knew you were beginning to get shaky, and even though you read about it during your anxious preparation, it was still upsetting. You looked around the room, trying to take your mind off the literal needles that were stabbing into you hundreds of times per second. Maybe you could distract yourself from figuring out the darkly gorgeous man tattooing you.

He kept the lights of the room low, probably to keep people calm, and the posters on the walls were at least nice to look at. There was a pair of dog tags hanging off a lamp on the desk in the corner, and you chalked that up to his army past. There were some plants, but the only one still alive was the cactus on the windowsill. But, you couldn't preoccupy yourself for long. Every time you thought you were getting used to the pain, a new wave of discomfort would hit you, leaving you whimpering in the chair. Your breath was getting a little shallow, and your other leg started bouncing to release some pent-up energy.

Bucky's hand which was comfortingly rubbing the thigh that he was tattooing shot out and grabbed your other leg, his fingers gripping your skin so firmly, the sudden sensation distracted you enough that your squirming stilled.

"Fuck, you gotta hold still, dolly." He rasped. "How 'bout you tell me about your 'pops?"

His voice was strained and you bit your lip to stifle a whimper. Your skirt was pulled up enough that his hand on your non-tattooed leg was high enough to be considered intimate. At least, it certainly felt that way to you. He squeezed your thigh, focusing your attention back on him, before he put it back on the leg he was tattooing.

"Talk, princess. You're almost done." He commanded softly.

The pain was still at the forefront of your mind, but now it was fighting with the heat in your core that was slowly growing.

"Um.. he was a sailor. He.. his name was Henry." You began to recall fond memories of your Grandpa, and the pain of the tattoo slowly faded into a manageable ache.

"That's a good girl. Keep talking, sweetheart." He muttered quietly.

The praise made your breath hitch and the sound that fell from your lips wasn't from pain anymore. The only sign that he noticed your breathy whine was the little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"And… all done." He announced.

The buzzing of the tattoo gun ceased and Bucky had already put it down, as if the tattoo never even happened. The only evidence of what you'd struggled through for the last hour was the perfectly executed anchor on your skin and the dull ache of your thigh. Bucky had already moved back over to you and was starting to clean and wrap your leg. His hands brushed the skin of your inner thigh, causing you to suck in a sharp breath, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment. There was that smirk again.

"That's it?" You asked breathlessly.

"That's it. You did so well, princess." He said as he finished wrapping your thigh. After putting his supplies back onto the cart, he pulled your skirt back down almost protectively, his hands lingering a little too long to be professional.

"Here. You even get a lollipop for being such a good girl." He grinned as helped you off the chair, his hand brushing yours as he handed you the candy.

He said the praise so casually, but it still sent your head spinning and your cheeks burning with a dusting of pink.

"Thanks…" You mumbled.

"You can pay at the front. Call us if you have any questions. Be safe, princess." He said as his eyes drifted down to your thigh.

Your heart sank as you kicked yourself for thinking there was even a sliver of attraction that he felt for you. Obviously, the hot tattoo artist must get girls fawning over him all the time, you weren't anything special. Biting back a frown, you nodded and thanked him one more time before heading back up to the front of the store to pay. The friendly babbling of the same dark-skinned woman who had taken you to Bucky's tattoo room went in one ear and out the other. Your head was way too messy to pay attention.

After thanking the staff one more time, you grabbed your umbrella and coat and headed back out into the rainy Brooklyn streets. As you walked back to your apartment, your thoughts endlessly drifting back to Bucky, you pulled the lollipop out of where you'd put it in your pocket. If you couldn't have him, at least you had candy. Just as you were about to mindlessly crumple up the wrapper, you noticed something scrawled in pen on the plastic. It was an address and a phone number.

'Dinner this weekend. Don't be shy, doll.' It read.

You stopped in your tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, ignoring the dirty looks of the pedestrians who nearly walked into you, smiling like an idiot. It wasn't even written as a question and you could hear his low, slightly raspy voice saying the words in your head. The ache in your thigh, the ache in your heart, and even the now permanent marking on your body were all worth it. You had the passing thought that maybe your Grandpa was setting you up from wherever he was.

"Thanks, Grandpa.." You whispered to yourself and walked home with a spring in your step.

#bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #oneshot #tattoo artist!bucky

[em1e]

ᶻz feat. toge + itadori + megumi !!

jjk && college tropes

☓ silly little college au's // insp from @k9wa my spinkle spoingle pumpkin pie's tr version

ᶻz・toge inumaki

⠀ ⬤ as the best damn tutor you’ve ever had

inumaki almost snickers when you all but throw your forehead against the table in the library, practically defeated by your ‘intro to anatomy and physiology' assignments. despite your clear distress, he taps the top of your head for your attention. with a huff, you barely sit up, chin resting on the polished wood with an angry red mark forming on your forehead. 

he points to the work again, typing out on his laptop to make it easier to explain. 

‘It’s easy once you realize the nervous system can be broken down to two different parts - the central nervous system and the peripheral nervous system.’

reading that makes you want to puke. 

“the way you typed that makes you sound like a dictionary.” you grimace. 

he smiles, one that has you flushing and looking away when he taps the hardcover textbook sitting open in front of him. you can hardly see it from the way you’re sitting, but just barely you’re able to make out highlighted text. the definition of nervous systems screaming at you in bright blue ink. 

“that feels like cheating when you explain it in just a slightly different way than the book.” you kick at his chair leg, but there’s no real intent to harm him in any way. he only hums, typing. 

‘It’s not cheating. I’m just using my resources.’

“using ‘em to make me look stupid,” you grumble, sitting up only to slump forward again with your head in your hands, “i’m hopeless, inumaki! i’m never gonna pass this stupid class and get my stupid degree.” 

you’re complaining just to complain at this point, too overwhelmed with too many classes and assignments and other things in life to do to really be so stressed over something you could easily have done in half an hour if you just stopped whining. 

if inumaki cares to unbox all that stress, he makes no move to show it, only typing away and nudging your foot when you don’t look up to read what he’s said. 

‘Let’s take a break and go to that cafe you like, then we can work through every assignment together.’ 

okay, maybe he does show it a little. 

“what about your assignments? i promised i’d help you make that diorama for your psychology class-” 

he’s waving you off while packing his bag, waiting to put his laptop away so you can still communicate. 

‘We’ll do it tomorrow. It’s not due for another two weeks.’ 

you puff out your cheeks, eyeing him. “you sure?” 

he sends you a thumbs up and that smile that leaves you practically melting in your chair, and that’s enough to encourage you to pack your stuff with a small grumble. 

“fine, but i’m buying.” 

you pull your wallet from your bag just to have it on hand, but he snatches it with a swiftness you never knew he had, sticking his tongue out at you and keeping it out of your reach when you swipe for it again. he shakes his head when you pout, shoving it into his jacket pocket and taking out his own to wave in front of you. like he’s taunting you, despite him being the only real loser for having to spend money on the both of you. 

“you’re no fair inumaki, how am i supposed to pay you back for tutoring me and buying me coffee?” 

he pulls out his phone to his notes app, typing for a second before facing it towards you. 

‘Maybe going on a date with me would be enough?’

you feel yourself flush, shoving his phone away as if that’d get rid of it, “o-okay, yeah, that sounds good. that sounds nice.” 

he smiles, offering you his hand to carry your bag for you, but takes it for himself when you don’t pass it over. then he’s grabbing your own hand, bold in his own way, to pull you out of the library when you’re still too surprised by his declaration to do any of it yourself.

ᶻz・yuji itadori 

⠀ ⬤ as the worst classmate to work on a project with

you felt doomed the second the words left your professors lips. 

“itadori and (y/n), you’ll be paired for the end of the semester presentation. what you’ll be graded on is in the syllabus, and . . . that should be it for pairings. class is dismissed.” 

your professor closes the book in his hand and everyone in the class begins to disperse, but you feel frozen at your desk with your head in your hands. 

fifty percent of your grade sits woven into this presentation, and you’ve been  paired with the one person in class you didn’t want. even megumi would’ve been better! at least you know he’d do his part! 

someone taps your desk, and you jump, looking at whoever saw it fit to disrupt your clear mental breakdown. 

“hi!” your presentation partner smiles down at you, cheerful and happy and god you hate to say attractive, “looks like we’re partners!” 

“yeah!” you force a smile, shoving your notebook into your bag with a little more hostility than necessary, “let me get your number and we can talk about the details of the assignment-” 

you flinch when he thrusts his phone in front of you, and it leaves him smiling sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, ‘m not used to doing projects without megumi or nobara. i’ll do my best to help you!” 

the way he says it sounds so genuine, you almost feel bad for judging him so harshly. almost, if not for the warnings your friends in other classes told you about him and his group. that they’d do the barest minimum of work, questioned everything the other wrote, and all but argue over each slide in simple presentations. still, the way he looks at you reminds you of a puppy, cute and nonthreatening. you’ll take his promise with a grain of salt. 

you offer a real smile to match his, “it’s okay, we’ll work on it together.” and take his phone to enter your number, sending yourself a text so you can save it. 

and he does make due on his promise. hell, he’s done more than you when it comes to adding slides, and you only have to fact check him a handful of times! it’s honestly such a shock, practically gaping when you opened the slides for the first time to see it was almost done before you’d even had a chance to add anything yourself. 

still, you do your part, and you have a respectable presentation finished almost two months before it’s even due! 

you invite itadori out for ice cream to celebrate. he joins you only five minutes after you’ve been waiting, and the two of you stroll around campus to find a nice place to relax after you’ve acquired your goods. 

“i have to admit something.” he says when a nice silence washes over the two of you, ice cream long gone. you sit up from your lying position in the grass you’d settled in. itadori has that same sheepish look from when he’d greeted you officially for the first time, hand rubbing the back of his neck and smiling. 

“oh god, what is it.” he winces at your sudden dramatics, afraid you’ll actually be upset for what he’s about to spill to you. 

“i . . . didn’t do the whole presentation on my own.” he looks down, dejected and waiting for your barrage of insults he’s sure you’ll throw his way. 

“well yeah, i helped.” you say as if stating the obvious. which is partly true, he guesses, but not what he’s getting at. 

“no i- oh god, this is embarrassing to admit. i wanted to impress you so i had one of my friends help me put together a super cool presentation so you’d like me.” he flushes at the confession, leaving out the fact that he had to pay maki an embarrassing amount of money to help him. 

and he expects you to berate him, or ask him why he’d do something so stupid, but instead the air is filled with your laughter. 

“you didn’t have to do all that to impress me.” you say when you’re dwindled down to giggles, “you’re a pretty cool guy, i think i would’ve folded if you just asked me out.” 

his blush spreads to his chest, but his smile only grows, “i wish i knew that before i gave away all the credits on my food card.” 

ᶻz・megumi fushigiro

⠀ ⬤ as your favorite person to skip class with

you get the text while walking to your literature course, almost missing it to avoid being late. 

want 2 hang?

you stop dead in your tracks, offering half-hearted apologies when you realize you’re in other people’s way in order to reply. 

i have class. 

he should know you do, given the fact that you shared your schedule with him and even tried to sync some overlapping classes together, with the hopes that you’d get to hang out in between certain times. 

me 2. wanna get lunch?

you almost laugh, shaking your head to no one in particular. you are ahead in the course, and you rarely miss days for this class anyways. what’s the real harm in skipping just once? 

sure, meet u in the cafeteria? 

u know it. 

with a hum, you turn on your heel in the opposite direction, fingers crossed that your dear friend megumi would be willing to pay for your meal using his dad’s credit card. 

you spot him fairly easily once entering the cafeteria, sitting at the table you normally eat at, and greet him with a smile. 

“hey.” you sit down, placing your bag to your side and taking out your wallet with a hum. 

“hi,” he pushes one of the three items he has towards you, and you pause when you realize he’s already gotten you food. your favorite, no less, “how were your other classes today?” 

“you’re too good to me, megumi,” you almost drool, saying a quick thanks before diving into the meal, “they were okay, mostly just reviewing old stuff.” 

you pause for a second, eyeing him, “isn’t the class you’re skipping the only one you have today?” 

he nods, too busy eating his own food to reply. 

“what was the point of even coming today?” you laugh, flicking a packet of silverware at him, “why didn’t you just wait til’ after class? we could’ve eaten then.”

he shrugs, swallowing what’s in his mouth, “cafeteria would’ve been closed by then.” 

he says it like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and you can’t stop the giggles that pass your lips, instead covering your mouth with your hand as if that’d hide them. 

“we could’ve gone somewhere off campus, now both of us are gonna be behind.” 

megumi seems unbothered at this, but you’re sure he has someone in class to grab notes from. probably itadori, if he promises to take him out to eat sometime during the week. still, he takes a moment to reply to instead enjoy the food he’s eating. 

“if i did, we wouldn’t get to hang out for as long.” 

you roll your eyes, deciding to not bring up how the two of you spend literally every other day together, “we still could’ve hung out after class, feels like a waste that you came here for one thing and didn’t even go to it.” 

“‘s’not a waste if i’m hanging out with you.” he says casually, taking another bite. 

you’d almost blush if not for the fact he has ketchup smeared against the side of his lip. it makes you smile, reaching over with a napkin to wipe it off his face and he hums at the familiarity. you’re glad the class you skipped is your last for the day, knowing megumi means knowing he’d easily convince you to forgo any others you might’ve had in favor of spending time with him. 

he must pick up on the idea of you having a soft spot for him, because he takes each minute of your time in stride. deciding the hangout shouldn’t end at just lunch, he persuades you to join him at his dorm - it really didn’t take much from him, the offer of watching a movie with snacks provided leaving prettily from his lips being all you really need to say yes, and the day ends with you curled up beside him on his bed, ignoring the way itadori gushes at the two of you together in favor of watching the movie from megumi’s laptop.

#salmon rowe #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #toge x reader #inumaki x reader #itadori yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, allusions to sex

Wordcount: 6.1k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 3 | this path is reckless (and I like it)

Six o’clock finally came torturously slowly, the minutes on the clock passing like molasses. At five minutes-to, the bell above the door rang, and Steve strolled in. He caught your eye to where you stood behind the counter, and nodded. You shot him a small smile, but felt your stomach turn - whether it was excitement or anxiety, you couldn’t quite tell. But, you couldn’t deny that you were happy to see him. You felt stupid, considering that he had explicitly said he wasn’t planning on asking you out - but, what else could it be?

As soon as Steve saw you making your way over, he smiled briefly, before nodding to the chair across from him. He already had ordered two coffees - one for himself, which he was halfway through, and a cappuccino, right at your seat. 

“Hey there,” you said, feigning a casual and friendly air as you sat down. “Oh, um, thanks - you really didn’t need to order me anything.”

“Hey there,” you said, feigning a casual and friendly air as you sat down. “Oh, um, thanks - you really didn’t need to order me anything.”

He shrugged. “I figured you might be tired - I took a wild guess about what you liked, though. Don’t feel like you have to drink it if you don’t want -”

“No, it’s great,” you assured. “I could probably do with a pick-me-up, anyways. Long day.”

“Okay, good,” he said. It was silent again for a moment, both of you just pretending to be incredibly interested in your drinks instead of each other, waiting for the other to say something. You already knew that this wasn’t a date. But, even worse, it didn’t feel like one at all - it felt more like a business meeting, between two strangers. Then again, isn’t that what you were?

You could only stand the anticipation for so long - you were many things, but patient wasn’t one of them. 

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” you asked. “Is this about last night? Because, i was pretty drunk, so - if you didn’t want me to kiss you, I’m sorry, that was my fault… I might’ve misread things, but if you aren’t interested, that’s fine - you’ve been more than nice, and I didn’t want you to think that I -”

“Why are you living in Italy?” he asked.

Not what you expected. Still, it was fair enough - beyond tourists, you were probably the first American he had encountered here.

“Oh - well… that’s kind of a long story.”

He shrugged again. “I’d love to hear it, if you want to tell me, that is.”

You thought for a moment, placing your mug on the table as you decided exactly which details to disclose to him.

“Well… my home life… let’s just say, it wasn’t great. I grew up in a tiny town in upstate New York, and… I mean, I knew I always wanted to get out of there. So, I applied to colleges as far as possible - mostly big cities, like New York, Boston, Chicago, even out in California. I didn’t plan on leaving the States, necessarily - but I applied to the American University of Rome, just for kicks, since I knew they offered a U.S.-accredited degree. I didn’t think I’d get in, let alone actually go. But, they made a great offer - basically a full ride. And, it got me as far from home as possible. So I left, and never really looked back. And now, I only have one semester left, which is pretty crazy, but… I’m glad I did it.”

It felt nice, to actually get that off of your chest - Robin was one of the only people you really ever talked about this stuff with. There was a lot still left unmentioned, but it still made the man across from you seem less like a stranger, like someone you could maybe trust.

“Was it hard? Moving to a whole other country, I mean?”

He was asking sincerely, but you were still wary as you answered.

“Yes, and no,” you admitted. “There was definitely a culture shock - I had to learn a lot about the city, the people, and a whole new language. But, it really is great here. And, I’m glad I found Robin - someone from home, kind of. But, it’s been… a lot of work.”

He raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”

You sighed, measuring your words carefully. 

“I’ve done pretty well in school, but I didn’t know that Rome was one of the most expensive cities in the world until after I moved here. I mean, I scraped together most of the money I had just to buy my plane ticket. And, campus housing was expensive, so I bounced between hostels and friends’ couches my first couple of years, until I was able to save up a little. That took a bit, too - turns out Italy doesn’t have a set minimum wage, either. Who knew right?”

You chuckled dryly at that last part, and winced inwardly - that was far too much information, and he didn’t need to know any of that. You thought again about the money he had sent, how he casually had a personal driver on hand, the clothes he wore - he probably pitied you, couldn’t even be bothered to consider you as a -

“Is that why you have two jobs?” he inquired. There’s only sincerity behind his question, like he was truly trying to understand. 

You nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. It occurred to you then that this felt like some strange job interview - well, a job interview with a man you drunkenly kissed on the sidewalk the night before. You shivered at the memory.

“How old are you again?” he asked.

“Twenty,” you replied, recalling his age from his I.D. - he had just turned thirty, if your math was right.

“Jesus,” he whispered, mostly to himself. He leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed. You noted how he was fidgeting a bit with his fingers, shifting in his seat - was he nervous? Why?

“Okay, I guess I’ll just get to it,” Steve conceded, leaning forward again. He folded his forearms on the table and leaned it, his gaze focused on yours. He was ramping up to something, but nothing could have prepared you for what.

“What if you didn’t have to worry about money anymore?” he posed, his voice low and steady.

You furrowed your brow, confused. You felt your stomach flip again, you mind racing to a million and one implications.

“I - what?”

He sighed, running one hand through his hair as he gathered himself. 

“I - Jesus, okay, this is harder than I thought. I’ve never really done this before, so just, bear with me, yeah?”

You frowned, but nodded, giving him a moment to continue.

“First of all, don’t apologize for kissing me. I mean, I was really hoping you would,” he admitted.

You felt something flutter in your chest, and fought with everything you had to keep your face neutral.

“You - you were?”

He nodded.

“Yeah - I mean, not that I was expecting it, but - I wanted to. But - earlier, you said something about me not being interested in you… that’s not true.”

You wanted to jump up and down with glee, but you couldn’t help and feel that there was a big but coming.

“- but, I’m not exactly looking for anything right now. Well, anything serious. I just… a relationship can’t happen for me, not right now. And, I don’t know if that’s going to change anytime soon. I’m only in Italy until the end of the summer anyway.”

You felt your heart sink in your chest, like a balloon deflating. There it was - it explained a lot.

“Oh,” you said softly, doing your best to not let the disappointment bleed through. “That’s fine - I get it, really. Thanks for letting me know -”

“Wait, it’s not just that,” he explained. “I - fuck, okay, give me a second here. I was thinking of having an… arrangement, with you.”

You cocked an eyebrow, sitting up a bit straighter in your chair.

“An arrangement?” you echoed.

“Yeah,” he said. “I - I want to keep seeing you. But, with an understanding - that there wouldn’t be personal feelings involved, it’d just be something fun, for you and me. And, maybe you could occasionally be my date to work events, galas, that sort of thing.”

You kept your face as stoic as possible, taking in what he was asking. But before you could formulate a thought, he continued:

“And, in exchange… I could help you out. I can give you a monthly allowance, conver all your major bills, student loans, if you have any… and, if there’s anything you want to buy yourself, like, new shoes or something?”

“What makes you think I want shoes?” you bristled, suddenly becoming defensive as you truly started to comprehend what he was proposing.

“Nothing!” he exclaimed, backtracking. “I’m just saying that… if there’s anything you want, I can take care of it. To thank you, for your… discretion.”

You felt your face heat, the blood rushing into your cheeks and roaring in your ears. Here he was, a man you were only just getting to know, asking if you wanted to be his… his - 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course,” he added quickly, his own cheeks starting to twinge pink. “I mean, I’d never pressure you into anything - I wouldn’t do this if you didn’t consent, I mean.”

“And if I don’t consent?” you asked, your words coming out as more of a snap than you intended.

“Then I’d leave here, right now, and you’d never have to see me again,” he assured. “And, I’d send you another sum of money to at least cover your rent for the rest of the year, for even insulting you with the offer. But… I do think this could help both of us.”

You bit your lip, grabbing a paper napkin from the table and twisting it in your hand.

“Can it? I just… I feel like you’re not the kind of guy that needs to pay for sex. I mean, what’s in it for you?”

He hesitated for a second, and it occurred to you that he’s nervous, perhaps more than you.

“It’s not just sex,” he admitted. “I mean - it’d be nice, to have someone kind of consistent, and to know she wouldn’t expect anything. That’s the point of the agreement, I guess. But also… you saw who I work with. They’re always on me, about being ‘married to my work,’ all of that. So -”

“You want me to be your arm candy?” you finished bluntly. He turned just a bit more red at that.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but - yeah, basically. After that stunt at the restaurant… I think they’d respect me a lot more, to be honest.”

“And you think I’m pretty enough for that?” you asked dryly, mostly to yourself as you laughed inwardly at the idea.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispered.

You froze for a moment, caught off-guard by his response - and, you hated how it made something warm bubble inside your chest, especially in the given situation. You just nodded, tearing at the napkin in your hand.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” you posed.

“Sure, anything.”

“Why don’t you want a relationship?”

His eyes widened, like that was the last thing he ever expected. Something unreadable passed his features, and he thought for a moment before replying.

“Honestly? I’m really busy. HNL is working on expanding through Europe - or, in Brenner’s words, dominate. And, I’m trying to work my way up to CEO - I think I have a good shot, once he retires. Having someone… it’d distract me. And, I don’t think it’d be fair to her, either - I can’t fully commit the time, not right now.”

It was an honest answer, at least from what you could tell. Still, what he was proposing… It seemed crazy. Too good to be true. If he had taken you home last night, and just made it clear it was a one-time thing… you would have let it happen. You knew that with near-certainty. If Steve had just become a fun story to tell one day, that would’ve been fine by you. But this… 

“Can I think about it?” you asked. He nodded vigorously.

“Yeah - yeah! Of course. Here -”

He handed you his phone, pulling up the blank contact form on the screen.

“- put your number in here. So you can get in touch, if you make a decision, or for… whatever.”

You took it from him, typing out your full name and phone number with shaky hands. Your palms were sweaty, the weight of what he wanted from you.

When you handed it back to him, he glanced down, and stuck the phone back in his pocket.

“Great - well, um, I’ve kept you long enough after work -”

“Oh, yeah - I should probably get home, anyways. I’m on dinner tonight, for me and Robs.”

He stood when you did, chairs scraping on the floor as you stepped away from the table, leaving two empty coffee mugs and a napkin torn to bits.

“Let me call my car, to drive you home -”

“No,” you said firmly. “I - I want to walk for a bit, actually. To clear my head, if that’s alright.”

He just nodded curtly, and you both just stared at each other for a moment. It was awkward now, like you were now leaving the job interview not knowing if you felt good about getting the job. Do you hug? Should you just leave?

You opted to shake his hand, extending your hand towards his until he took it. It felt strange to do that, but before you could dwell on it, you were mumbling a rushed talk to you soon, and running out the door.

As soon as you were out of sight of the coffee shop, you let out a deep exhale - this could not be your life. But somehow, it was.

As you walked down the cobblestone streets, you became convinced that the whole interaction was in your imagination - perhaps you were still dreaming, and your alarm clock would wake you up at any moment. That was, until, you heard your phone ding:

Maybe: Steve

Hey - this is Steve. Steve Harrington, in case you forgot - I realized you probably also need my number, right? Have a good night.

Jesus, he writes texts like a dad. A grandpa, even. You stared at the message for a moment, reading it a few times - yes, this was real. You took a moment to add the number to your contacts, typing out Steve Harrington slowly. Then, you stuck it in your bag, and continued on your walk, doing everything you could to not check it for the rest of the way.

Your walk home was nearly an hour - reasonably, you should’ve taken Steve’s offer, or at least the bus. But you charged ahead, breathing in the air as dusk started to overtake the day, the sky darkening to the telltale hues of pink and orange. Summer was beginning to show its face, the days stretching just a bit longer, the warmth just a bit more persistent, creeping in as spring met its final days.

It was your favorite time of year - just before the true heat of summer set in, the promise of bright days ahead and winter long-dead in its grave. And thankfully, it meant darkness was only truly settling in when you reached your apartment - you had arrived there on auto-pilot, spending your whole walk home thinking of Steve’s offer.

You were bouncing back and forth, between telling him to fuck himself, and jumping at the opportunity to take everything he had to offer you.

When you walked up to the third floor and jostled the door open with your keys, the apartment was dark - indicating that Robin had hardly left her room all day. But, you needed to talk to her. You needed someone else to tell you that this was insane, outlandish, unbelievable -

When you knocked on her door, you were met with a muffled hmmm, what?

You opened her bedroom door slowly, only to see Robin under her covers, her room still dark. She was only illuminated by the light of her phone’s screen, where she was no doubt doom scrolling for the last few hours, if not all day.

“Hey, you,” you whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

She groaned, sitting up in bed. 

“Only marginally better. But, I think I’ve taken the legal limit of ibuprofen, so I have to wait the rest out.”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I would say I feel bad for you, but I’m not sure I do.”

She chucked a pillow in your direction, narrowly missing your head.

“Asshole,” she grumbled.

“Love you too,” you replied, sitting on the edge of her bed.

Robin rubbed her eyes, yawning.

“So, how was work?”

Jesus - how were you supposed to answer that question?

“Oh, uh - good, I guess. Well - okay, if I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out? Because like, I really need your advice here.”

“Uh, yeah, okay - that’s totally not ominous.”

“Well, you know Steve?”

“Our savior, you mean? Yeah. I mean, he did bring us back last night, right? I didn’t make that up?”

“No,” you confirmed. “You didn’t. But, before you found us last night… we kind of made out.”

That got Robin to sit up straight, looking more alive than she had all day.

“Oh? You made out with moneybags??? And didn’t tell me?”

“To be fair, you were incapacitated.”

Robin rolled her eyes playfully, then held up her hands defensively.

“Yeah, okay, whatever - well, did you get his number or something?”

You sighed, gathering yourself as you figured out how to answer that question.

“Well, kind of - not last night. But, he came to visit me at work today… I kind of told him where I worked last night while we were talking.”

Robin’s eyes widened, and she grinned. 

“Wait, he showed up at work? Oh my God, he’s into you -”

“Not so fast,” you said. “I - he asked to meet with me after my shift. So, I did, and… well, he -”

“He what?” Robin asked, clearly impatient. “Did he ask you out? C’mon, you’re killing me here -”

“He offered to be my sugar daddy,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out. It was the first time you had said it out loud, and it felt ridiculous to even put it that way. But, that’s what it was, no matter how you sliced it.

For maybe the first time in her life, Robin had no words. Her mouth hung open, and you could’ve sworn you saw her brain reboot as she comprehended exactly what you just said.

“I - I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, that’s basically what he offered. Maybe there’s maybe a better term for it, but -”

“No, no, you need to tell me exactly what he said,” Robin demanded, crossing her legs on the bed. 

So you did. You explained every detail of Steve’s offer, as best as you could remember, watching how every version of disbelief and awe passed Robin’s face. It was only after you were done that she spoke:

“So, you’re doing it, right?”

You stared at her, eyes wide.

“What? I - I thought you’d tell me it’s a terrible idea -”

“Girl, no - I mean, think about it. He’s offering to pay you, enough that you don;t have to wear yourself down with work anymore, and you’ll get laid? It’s a win-win. Besides, I don’t even like men, and I can acknowledge that the guy is pretty easy on the eyes. I mean, we’ve established he’s not a murderer, right?”

You shrugged.

“I think so - he told me his full name, knows that I told you everything - if he’s a murderer, he’s one who's looking to get caught. But… this is crazy, right?”

Robin just shrugged, a mischievous look in her eye.

“Maybe. But, who ever said crazy was bad? I mean, if you really don’t want to do it, then don’t. But, do you have any reason not to?”

It was those words that rang through your head, all through your dinner (which ended up being a modge-podge of leftovers, after realizing that neither of you had done a proper grocery shop in a while), all while you and Robin watched a movie, and long after she went to bed.

It was nearly midnight when you pulled out your phone, staring once again at Steve’s text. You knew you should probably respond via text - there was a good chance he was already asleep. But, something else compelled you to tap on his contact and press call.

One ring. Two. On the third, a muffled click, and his voice, groggy and low.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you whispered. “It’s me.”

“Oh! Hello,” he replied, sounding considerably more awake.

“I’m sorry - were you asleep?”

“Hm? No, no - don’t worry about that. Are you okay?”

You nodded, before remembering that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah - yes. It’s just… I’ve thought a lot about your offer.”

Silence. Then, “...okay? And?”

He sounded cautious, and maybe even hopeful. You took a deep, shuddering breath before answering:

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

*******

You didn’t actually see Steve for a few days after that. You did receive a text the following morning from Steve, which only read:

Let me know what days and times you’re free. We can meet to set up the arrangements.

And that was what the next few days entailed. First, you had a Zoom meeting with Steve, which felt ridiculously formal. He explained that it was because he was at work, and it was easier this way - by the end of it, he had set you up with a personal separate checking account and a platinum credit card. You had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, afraid he’d get in trouble, but he had only waved off your concerns - don’t worry - you’d be surprised what some of my colleagues get up to. Besides, as far as my accountant is concerned, you’re a client.

A few days later, a car pulled up to your apartment - Steve’s car. Only, he wasn’t in it - his driver informed you that he was there to pick you up for your appointment. The appointment, it turned out, was with a seamstress named Valentina, a bombastic and impassioned woman who had once worked for Versace before leaving to open her own independent brand as a designer. As you stood on a raised block and she measured every inch of you, all she wanted to do was talk. She prattled on about her job, her wife, her annoying neighbor, the fact that she’s a week behind on tailoring a wedding gown for some politician’s daughter. You managed to ask how she knew Steve, and she explained how she’s tailored all of his work attire in the time he’s been in Europe - he’d even had his suit shipped to her during his winter in London. Her rambling was occasionally interjected with what lovely arms you have, or you’d look gorgeous in this color, don’t you think?

Eventually, you worked up the courage to ask, “So, uh, what exactly are you going to make for me? Like, a dress?”

Valentina stopped mid-measuring, glancing up from where she was kneeling in front of you.

“You don’t know?” she asked.

You just shook your head in response, and she laughed.

“Well, Signore Harrington was quite clear - I am to make you everything.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, everything?”

“He said that everything you want to wear is to be made by me. Or, if you buy something else you like, I’m meant to tailor it, too. That’s why I’m keeping your measurements on file - to make sure everything fits you just right.”

“Oh.”

That was all you could muster. You had seen all of the fine, beautiful piece at the front of Valentia’s shop when you arrived - you had assumed maybe she was making one dress for you, for a special occasion. Or, you’d be picking something from the shop, and that was it. But this… how much money did Steve have?

“Nothing but the best, for Signore Harrington,” Valentina continued, resuming her work. “Which means nothing but the best for his ragazza.”

Girlfriend. You didn’t know whether that was a cover story Steve told her, or just an assumption she’d drawn, but you just chose to not respond, even as the word and all of the falsehoods behind it swirled in your mind.

It wasn’t until nearly a week later that you actually heard from Steve again. It’s another text, and you don’t see it until your lunch break during a coffee shop shift. It reads:

Are you busy tonight?

You stared at the text for a few moments, pondering everything it implied. Was this it? The beginning of… whatever this was? You took a moment to think, then replied:

No, why? I work until 4 and then I’m free

You saw the three dots appear for a second, then disappear. Then, his reply:

You’re working?

Yea I always work 8-4 on Thursdays

You don’t need to do that, you know.

Are you saying I’m not allowed to?

Of course you are, but just know that you don’t need to. I’ll take care of you.

You read that last sentence a few more times than was probably necessary. Then, he texted again:

So, you are free tonight, yes?

You pause for a moment before sending yes.

Great - I’ll come pick you up at 7? Let’s do dinner.

Then, the bell above the door was ringing, and your manager was calling for you as the line of customers grew, your 15-minute break somehow already over.

Sounds good see you then

That was how you found yourself practically sprinting out the door when your shift ended, just barely catching the bus, internally wishing it would skip every other stop by some miracle and get you home as quickly as possible. That, of course, doesn’t happen, and you briefly wondered if you should’ve just used your credit card and called a taxi. The thought suddenly feels ridiculous - you hadn’t actually used any of Steve’s money yet. You knew he said you should, but it felt strange to just frivolously spend someone else’s money like that. So instead, you leaned your head against the bus window, and willed it to move faster.

When you finally arrived home, you were only in the door for a few seconds before Robin was running up to you, eyes wide with glee.

“There you are! Look at this shit - did you know this was coming?”

“Did I - what?” you asked, confused and still a bit out of breath from how briskly you trekked two blocks and up the stairs. 

“Okay, clearly you didn’t - c’mere, some lady came and dropped this off earlier today -”

You followed her as she spoke, stopping in your tracks at your bedroom door.

“What the -”

Hanging in your doorway was a thick garment bag on a gold hanger, the door propped open with a dark, leather-bound trunk.

Before you could ask anything else, you were unzipping the bag with shaky hands, gasping as you saw the contents - inside were four dresses, probably nicer than anything you’d worn in your life, all adorned with Valentina’s sigil on the inside. 

“Whoa,” Robin said from behind you. “Are those from -”

“Yeah,” you said, cutting her off. “I - I think they’re all custom-made.”

It was then that you noticed a small envelope tucked inside, with a now-familiar wax seal. You practically tore it open, and it read:

I had Valentina send over these first few garments - there’ll be more to come. I think the white one would look great on you for tonight, with the gold shoes. I’ll see you at 7.

S.H.

“Holy shit,” Robin whispered, followed by a low whistle. “He’s really taking this whole thing seriously, isn’t he?”

You nodded, running your thumb over Steve’s handwriting a few times.

“Okay, you’ve got to tell me - is he just like, really bad in bed or something? Like, is that why he’s doing all this -”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admitted. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Wait - you haven’t slept with him yet?”

You shook your head, pinching the fabric of the white dress hanging in front, feeling the soft satin between your fingers.

“No,” you said. “I’m seeing him tonight, though.”

“Holy shit,” Robin said. “How is this your life now?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“I have no clue.”

*******

Two hours later, after a long, contemplative shower, and fussing maybe a bit too much with your hair and makeup, you found yourself wearing the dress and heels from the trunk, as instructed. Well, it was more of a suggestion than instruction, but who were you to object?

The dress had slipped on with ease, and it was maybe the lightest, softest thing you had ever worn - it fit like a glove, enough that you didn’t think a single other person in the world could put this on if they tried. You understood now why Steve used Valentina - she was damn good at her job. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror, not exactly recognizing yourself. It felt like you were going to some costume party, if the costume in question was a dress finer than anything you’d ever worn and shoes that probably cost more than you were willing to find out. The dress was light and flowy, hitting right above your knees. You did a quick 360, and took a deep breath - this was fine. It was great, actually - it was just dinner, that was all. Maybe. Probably.

When you emerged from the bedroom, Robin nearly fell off of the couch, jaw slack.

“Who are you, and what’ve you done with my roommate?”

You rolled your eyes, giving Robin a spin for the full effect. She just laughed, shaking her head incredulously.

“Seriously, though - you look great. Like, sophisticated, but in a hot way, I promise.”

“I don’t know if that’s a thing,” you said.

“‘Course it is, I’m looking at it!”

Before you could say anything else, you heard your buzzer ring - someone was downstairs.

You shared a look with Robin, and she bounced excitedly on the couch, urging you to answer. You went to the intercom, pressing the talk button and leaning in closely, remembering how notoriously bad the sound quality on this thing was.

“Um, hello?”

“Hey - it’s me,” Steve’s voice said, distorted a bit through the crackly speaker. “Are you ready to go?”

Oh, God. He actually came to the door.

“Yep! I’ll be down in a minute!”

“Are you sure? I can come up, if you want -”

“No!” you replied quickly - you glanced back at your tiny, and currently messy, apartment, and imagined he’d die if he ever saw it.

“It’s okay - it’s a third floor walkup… I’ll come down.”

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded.

You shot a glance back at Robin, who was giving you two thumbs-up.

“Wish me luck,” you said, suddenly feeling waves of anxiety rolling through you - this was suddenly so real, what the Hell are you even doing - 

“Don’t do that,” Robin said firmly.

“Do what?”

“Freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out -”

“Yeah, you are,” she interjected. “It’s fine - in fact, it’s less pressure than a real date. And I’ve got your location, so if you go missing -”

“Ha, ha,” you replied, voice laced with sarcasm. “Goodnight, Robin.”

Before she could tease you or ask any more questions, you were out the door and heading down the stairs, heart fluttering as you descended each flight, knowing it’d bring you closer to him.

And, when you opened the door, there he was - much more formal than the last time you had seen him, wearing a slim-fitting suit and a friendly smile. When he saw you, he stepped back for a moment, eyes widening.

“I - wow. Look at you.”

You felt your heart flip, your face flushing.

“Well, I have you to thank for that. Or, Valentina, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “Mostly Valentina - I don’t really know anything about women’s fashion, so I told her to do what she thought was best for you.”

“And did she?” you asked.

He looked you up and down again, nodding.

“I’ll say - you really do look beautiful, you know,” he said, voice a little softer now.

You felt your face heat even more, and decided not to respond. After a moment, Steve stepped back and waved you ahead, following you down the steps towards the car parked on the curb. He opened the door for you, allowing you to slide in across the backseat before following.

As the car peeled away and onto the road, Steve cleared his throat.

“So - I got you a little something.”

Before you could ask or protest, he was handing you a small white box. You opened it slowly, gasping as you got a look inside - it was a necklace. A gold necklace, with a diamond pendant that glistened more than anything you’d ever seen. The whole thing must’ve been real - you were no expert, but it had to be. It was simple, but so clearly nicer that any of the plated stuff you had sitting on your dresser at home.

You just held the box in your hand, staring at it for a moment as you examined the contents. You slowly traced the chain with your finger, your thoughts only interrupted by Steve.

“If you don’t like it, we can return it, and you can pick out something you like better - I have the receipt, I just didn’t really know what you liked -”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. You realized he had taken your silence for rejection, and the idea was enough to make you sick.

“But - I can’t accept this. It must’ve been so expensive -”

“Don’t worry about that,” Steve interrupted. “I wanted to get you something nice, and I thought it’d look nice on you.”

You glanced to the front of the car to gauge how much the driver was paying attention, and leaned in closer to Steve with a whisper.

“You already wired me my rent, tuition, and my allowance - which was a crazy amount, by the way - and, the clothes, all of it… not that I’m not grateful. I am, I just… you’ve already spent so much, you’re going to end up spoiling me -”

“Maybe I want to spoil you,” he murmured.

Whatever you were planning on saying next vanished, the words dying in your throat. So you just went quiet, looking down at the necklace in your lap again.

“Can I?” he asked.

Knowing what he was asking, you nodded, gathering your hair to the side as he extracted the necklace from its box. He unlatched it and pulled it up around the exposed slope of your neck, his fingers brushing your skin as he closed it again. You felt your breath hitched, the feeling of his fingers ever-so-lightly touching you lighting your skin on fire.

“I do have a question,” you asked, fixing your hair as you gazed down as where the pendant rested on your sternum.

“Mm hm?”

“If - if I suddenly changed my mind about this - this whole arrangement… do I need to pay you back?”

He shook his head fervently.

“No - definitely not. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do - if you ever want to stop, let me know, and you can keep whatever I’ve given you. No need to pay me back, I promise. You’re allowed to change your mind, I - I don’t own you.”

“Right,” you said, biting your lip. Then you managed to finally meet his gaze, and he was looking at you so sincerely it made you want to cry. And his face was close - so, so close.

Then, you were leaning across the seat and bringing your hand to cup his jaw, pressing your lips to his. He tensed for a second, then leaned into the kiss. You pulled back after a moment, and he just stared at you, bewildered.

“What was that for?” he asked softly.

“To say thank you,” you replied, hand still brushing his face.

“And,” you added, “I’ve actually changed my mind about one thing.”

His brow furrowed, and you realized that you accidentally sent him into panic mode.

“About what?”

“Let’s skip dinner,” you whispered. “I want to go to your place instead.”

Author's note: thanks everyone for all the enthusiasm for the story so far! Just a warning, there's a lot of smut ahead, so get ready for that! As always, shoutout to Em, who's basically my co-author. Your replies, comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Reply if you'd like to be added to the series' taglist

Taglist: @l4venderf4iry @joekeeryswife @lfaewrites @eddiesguitarskills @sonicthehedgedoggo @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog @starrch1ld @peculiarwren @live-the-fangirl-life @missamericanandthelondonboy @specialsnowflake-gabbi @lunarxeclipsechaxos-blog @sagelittleplace @freezaz123 @palmtreesx3 @differentdeputyfishpaper @steves-babysitter @alana4610 @adequate-superstar @musicmunson @teletubbysteroids @g4ys0n @sweet-villain @maddipoof @ganjababie @tess-rae @beckiversen @joekeeryworld @pinkybatz @micheledawn1975 @wh0reforbucknasty @ineedafuckinqnap @fanficaddictsthings @xtrokeme @thikkiesixx @syrtxs0sted @fanofthingsstranger @myharrington @babyrunsforfanfic @mandyjo8719 @eddeslvt @caleb-bailea @universallysharkhounddeputy @tisthedamnseason69 @keeryology @phoenixambers @1986harrington @glizzymcguirex @boinkybarness @taytaylala12 @sashaphantomhive @mrskeery-mclaughlin @sashaphantomhive

#steve harrington #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #don't call me baby #dcmb #dcmb fic #sugardaddy!steve harrington #modern steve harrington #stranger things fanfic