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roosterforme · 29 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him.

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice.

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail.

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you?

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please).

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities.

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

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Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him.

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response.

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa.

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa.

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

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

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning.

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden.

"No way," complained Nia.

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right now. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

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Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good.

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

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A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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gatorbites-imagines · 7 months

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Kinktober day 27

Bruce Wayne + cock cages

Schools killing me, I am so tired rn 👍

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Bruce stood amongst the many attendees of whatever Gala it was he was taking part in. It was one of many he had to attend during this time of year, so many people to greet and so many hands to shake, as surface level conversations passed from person to person, in some weak attempt at comradery.

But only about half his mind was on the Gala and people around him, instead he was more deeply focused on the metal constraint weighing on his crotch. You two hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks, both busy with your work, as heroes and during the day.

Bruce wasn’t sure what had come over him, but around halfway through the third week he had started sending you pictures and texts that he knew would get in trouble, but he couldn’t help himself. From pictures of him in just his tight black briefs, to him in even less splayed out on the deep red silk sheets of his bed. Every picture he took was planned and posed just right, showing off just what he knew got you going.

It awoke some giddy almost bratty part of him when you texted him back warning him about punishment, part of himself that Bruce thought didn’t exist anymore at his older age, but you lived to prove him wrong. When you finally reunited again, you gripped onto his shirt and pulled him to his bedroom, Bruce almost stumbling along after you as excitement and arousal bubbled in his gut.

But as you kissed and licked and bit, never once did you actually grab his cock. Even as you sat him in your lap and pinched and twisted at his nipples, or sucked hickeys on his thick pecs, even as he groaned and whined, his hips lifting off the bed in search of any semblance of friction.

Instead, you just kept teasing him until he was a dripping wet mess, the crotch of his boxers and slacks wet and sticky to the touch. But in the end, you didn’t bring him any type of completion, just laying down on the bed beside him and pulling out your phone, scrolling through different work emails or notifications.

Bruce found himself feeling almost wild as he scrambled into your lap, trying to gain your attention as he gripped onto your chest, his blue eyes misty and lip red from all the biting he had done to it. As he tried to grind against you, you wound your arm around him and pulled him down against you, letting out a displeased noise that had him going slack almost immediately.

This kept up for a few more days, you teasing him and kissing him, but never touching him where he wanted you the most. The closest Bruce got to it was when you pressed up against his back and rolled your hips into his ass as he was working on the batcomputer, but the touch was gone as quickly as it came, leaving him aching even more than before.

The lead to this night, as he stood getting ready for yet another gala he had to attend. As he did his tie, you came up behind him and wound your arms around his waist, the small touch almost having Bruce keening and buckling at the knees from the gut burning need he had for you and your touch.

“I have a way we can end this little game, what do you say?” you mutter against his neck, Bruce finding himself nodding before he even heard what you had to say. But it had been weeks apart, and now almost a week of you teasing him any chance you got. He knew it was his own fault for teasing and sending those pictures, but just the thought of going another day almost had him in tears.

That’s how he found himself on the bed, an ice-cold rag on his hard cock as you dug through the drawers beside your shared bed. Bruce had gasped as you placed the rag on his dick, but the metallic clinks of the item you were messing with made it obvious what you had in mind. Bruce found himself gulping nervously as he caught sight of the cage, made of stainless steel and custom made for his specific size and needs.

His legs shivered as you removed the rag and got to work securing the cage around his cock, the coldness keeping him from getting hard immediately again, and when he could feel the heat returning the padlock of the cage snapped shut. Bruce exhaled shakily as you wound the kay around your neck, placing an almost loving kiss against his tip through the cage.

He twitched and gasped as you patted his caged cock a few times as you got to your feet, the grin on your face a little cocky as you watched Batman himself writhing against the sheets. “Come on Love, we have a gala to go to” your voice as thick with want yet teasing as you stepped away from him, moving to get dressed up yourself.

Bruce needed a moment before he shakily got to his feet, tucking on the clothes needed. It was only experience that kept it hidden that he wasn’t feeling as even footed as usual, but your hand on his lower back kept him steady, even when your thumb rubbing against his lower back had him shiver softly.

Through the whole night he could feel his cock ache against the bars of his cage, trying again and again to get hard as the smallest touch from you set his senses alight. But no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible, and he could almost had cried as you finally left the Gala together.

As you got into the drivers’ seat of the car, Bruce took his spot in the passenger side, his hips softly rocking against his own wishes like his body just couldn’t take it anymore. A soft chuckle left you as you placed a hand on his thigh, your hand dangerously close to his still locked up cock as you drove back towards the manor, soft mutters of praise leaving you as Bruce tried to keep himself presentable. He knew from your praise that he had done good, he could only hope you would keep up your promise and finally touch him, whenever you decided to take off the cage, that was.

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freedomfireflies · 4 months

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I Love You*

Summary: The second part to Yellow* and One for the Money*

The one where you tell Mr. Styles you love him and you wonder if he'll say it back.

Word Count: 3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, blow job, multiple orgasms, brief Daddy kink, Sir kink

I love you.

Three little words that feel so big in such a small room.

Mr. Styles remains still. Unmoving. So quiet, you wonder if you actually said the words aloud or if you only thought them.

But you can feel his heart racing. Can hear the subtle hitch in his breath as the seconds tick by. And you know, undoubtedly, that he heard you.

You clear your throat. “You don’t…you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

There’s another long lull between your admission and his response. He shifts in your arms before finally he finally nods once.

And that suffices as his reply.

Truth be told, you feel relieved. You aren’t even sure why you said it at all, much less now. And after such an intimate scene. Especially when you knew he most likely wouldn’t say it back.

But you don’t blame him for that. Mr. Styles has never been the overly romantic, affectionate type. You don’t expect that to change just for you. You’re happy with the relationship you have. You like that you stay at his apartment more than your own. You like that he dedicates his free time to you. And you like that you work together and play together.

He’s more than just your partner and your boss. He’s…yours.

“Sir?” you whisper, and you feel his hand tighten around yours. “Are you all right?”

He nods again. Quickly. Strained. “I’m fine, Peach. Are you?”

You nod, too. “Mhm. I’m better now. Promise.” A beat. “Could we start the scene again?”

He lets out a sigh and finally looks up to catch your eye. “Maybe later. We’ll see.”

You pout and feel that anxious twist in your stomach return. You don’t want to end this moment on a sour note. The note where you had to safe word and make him stop only to tell him you love him and surely freak him out. You want to go back. Start it all over again. Do it right.

He notices your frown and tilts his head. “Peach,” he warns. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“I said we’ll see,” he repeats sternly. “If you’re good, I’ll consider it. But if you want to argue with me, you can sit here, achy and dripping, with nobody to touch you.”

You bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He pats your hip. “I’ve got a few more emails to answer before dinner. If I go, will you be all right until I’m done?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes hold of your chin. Firm. “I want your honesty.”

“You have it.”

He hesitates. There’s a tension here, between you. An unspoken strain and an edge you’d give anything to smooth out.

You can tell he wants to resolve it. He’s a problem solver. It’s in his nature to fix things. And that’s how this whole arrangement was started in the first place.

But how can he fix what he knows he broke?

He kisses your cheek. Quickly. Gently. “Be good while I’m gone.”

And with that, he leaves you. He turns off the camera, puts his clothes back on, and disappears into his home office.

You spend the next several hours trying not to stare at his closed door. Or thinking about how it ended. What you said. You delete the footage off the SD card and vow to never speak of this day again.

He feels so far away, even if it’s only a few hundred feet. But there’s an ocean between you now and you are lost in his sea.

Dinner is good. You order Chinese and it’s delivered right as he’s exiting his office for the night. You do your best to put things back to the way they were before. You talk—a lot—and he listens. He’s quiet. Nodding along without much commentary. He picks at his food and you know something is still on his mind.

You hate it.

He cleans up while you go take a shower. You take your time, allowing the water to wash away your regret. Make you clean again. Until each mistake has been swept down the drain.

The two of you will be okay. You have to be.

When you get out, you find him on the bed. He’s got his reading glasses on and a book in his hand and he looks…

Ethereal.

You’ve always been attracted to him. How could you not be, when he has a jaw like that and abs that could grate cheese? But somehow, he looks even better like this—relaxed. At peace. He’s still wearing his fancy slacks and white button up. But the sleeves have been rolled to his elbows and he’s left the first few buttons undone.

You step further into the bedroom and he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s engrossed in his novel, glasses perched on the tip of his perfect nose as he flips to the next page. And you smile. Your insides already aching as you crawl onto the end of the mattress and allow your towel to fall away.

When the bed dips, he glances up. Briefly. He notices the feral look in your eye and the way you’re moving toward him. He knows what you want and thankfully, he doesn’t deny you.

He looks back to his book. “How was your shower?”

“Good,” you murmur. You reach for his belt and slip it through each loop until you can toss it toward the floor.

He’s quiet.

“How’s your book?” you ask and he hums.

“It’s all right. Not entirely helpful but I like the subject.”

You grin. You adore when he sounds studious. “That’s good.” You pull his zipper down and reach inside his briefs.

Still, he doesn’t so much as flinch. He reads and he pretends as though you aren’t currently dragging your palm along his hardening cock. He pretends your tits aren’t mere inches from his grasp and he pretends that he can’t see the way you’ve already begun to drip.

You take him in your mouth. Your tongue is wet and ready and you swing your leg over his thigh in order to brace yourself against his lap and take him fully. He’s large. Incredibly large and you forget that sometimes until you feel the way he curves down your throat.

You pull back and spit only to watch the way it drips down his length until you can smear it around the way you want.

“Peach,” you hear him say and you look up. He moves the book aside to see you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

He reaches down and pinches your cheek. “Watch it,” he warns and he’s strict but somehow kind. “I thought I told you to wait.”

“I did wait,” you argue before sucking on his tip. You pop off and lick your lips. “All day. Couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Hm.” He moves his hand to the back of your head and tugs you away. “I’m not sure I should let you.”

“…why?” You straighten up. “I’m okay now. I want to do this. And you never got to finish—”

“Peach—”

“—which I know isn’t the point,” you amend quickly, remembering what he said before. “I know. But I want to make you finish. I want to make you feel good. Especially after what you did for me.”

He frowns now. Sighs. Takes off his glasses and sets down his book. “I’m your dominant and your partner. It is my job to take care of you. I don’t do it because I want something in return and my kindness is not transactional. I care about you. I want you to be okay. Always.”

I care about you isn’t exactly an I love you but it still makes you smile. Really, really big.

“I know,” you whisper. You squeeze his thigh. “But I feel…edged.”

He smirks. “Do you?”

“Mhm.” You dip back down and drag your tongue up from his balls. You notice his jaw tick. “And if you really want to take care of me and make sure I’m okay…you’ll cum in my mouth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He considers this, fingers tapping over the hard cover of his book. Then, he nods once, and slips his glasses back on. “All right. I’ll let you have your way just this once. But once you’re through, you’re to get into this bed and go to sleep. Is that understood?”

You nod eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Go ahead.”

With that, you continue your sucking and fondling while he continues reading his novel. The bedroom is eerily silent except for the loud echo of your wet, enthusiastic lapping at the large cock sitting proudly on your tongue. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if he won’t give you your own orgasm before bed, you’re content to have him just like this.

It doesn’t take long until he’s twitching in your mouth. He doesn’t look at you or watch the way your cheeks hollow or the way his balls look in your pretty hands, but you know he’s desperate to. You can tell by the way he turns the page. The way he grips the book and tries incredibly hard not to rip it in half as he moves to the next chapter.

You don’t slow. You keep going, even as his legs flex beneath you. As his chest takes in labored breaths. You want to get him there and he subtly nudges his leg further into your cunt to feel your arousal smear across his skin.

You do everything you know he likes, even though the camera is off. You suck and squeeze and give him everything you know he likes. Because this performance is just for him. The way you moan, the way you swallow, the way you bob and take more of him than you think you ever have before.

You’re his good girl. His investment, his toy, his.

And moments before he finally releases himself all down your throat, he tosses the book aside, grabs a fistful of your hair, and yanks you off.

“Get on,” he grits and tugs you closer.

You don’t need to be told twice. You scoot forward and line him up just so before he takes hold of your hips and helps you sink down. Things move quickly and he doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

And it’s beautiful, this moment. The way he stretches you open. And even if there’s a slight burn from the intrusion of his thick cock, you revel in the pain. Both of you groaning the moment you feel it.

And you know he won’t be able to hold off much longer.

“How did it taste, Peach, hm?” he asks as he fucks up into you. “How did it feel to have me in your mouth?”

“Good,” you pant. You claw at his curls. “So good, Sir—”

“Yeah?” He slaps his hand against your ass and you mewl. “Like to take my cock, don’t you? Like to be my dirty little slut—"

“Yes—”

“Like to feel me down your throat…have me cum all over your tongue.”

You make too many noises and he reaches up to pull your lip with his teeth. He kisses you and groans into your mouth and this is what sex should be. Rough and hard but filled with adoration.

“What a fucking whore,” he groans. He tugs at your hips. Watches the bulge in your belly with every thrust. “Begging to suck my cock, wanting to make Daddy feel good…guess I don’t give your mouth enough things to do, hm?”

You shake your head and wilt in his hold. He rarely refers to himself with that nickname and hearing it now almost tips you over.

“So fucking wet,” he exhales and you look down to watch with him. “S’fucking pathetic, isn’t it? Didn’t even have to touch you to have you dripping.”

He’s right. He always is.

He pinches your clit. Takes your nipple in his mouth and lets his large hands scratch down your back—your shoulders blades, your spine, your ass. And you have never felt safer than here in this moment with him.

“Cum,” he says, and he nips at your skin until it’s littered in marks and memories.

“Cum,” he whispers, and he pulls on your hair and wraps it around his fist to bare your throat to his teeth.

“Cum,” he pleads, and he kisses you—hard—until the room is spinning and you finally let go.

You unravel together. A collection of moans and cries and tangled limbs as you make a mess of each other. And you don’t care—about any of it. About what was said earlier, about what wasn’t said, about the way he looked when you said it.

You cling to his strong shoulders and you kiss him hard and you indulge in the feel of him dripping from your cunt.

But he’s not through. He pulls you off his cock and flips you onto your knees until your ass in the air.

You feel his tongue. Dragging up your cunt, tasting the remains of his cum, your cum, everything. He spanks you—hard. Paints his mark across your skin and leaves it there just so he can admire it.

“Say it,” he hisses and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Wha…what?”

“Say it,” he says. He spanks you again and nips at your pussy. “Say you love me.”

You clutch the duvet and your thighs are shaking. Your mind feels fuzzy. “I…”

Another slap to your ass and you’re overstimulated and wildly sensitive. He fucks his tongue into your dripping hole and grunts at the way you keen and you’ve never felt this kind of beautiful confusion.

“Say it.” He holds your thighs open and nearly suffocates himself as he mouths at you. “Fucking tell me you love me. Tell me again.”

You shake your head. You don’t understand. “Harry…”

Wrong. He slips his fingers inside and fucks his cum back into you. Fast. Lewd. Loud. “Come on, Peach. I know you want to. Know you do….so say it.”

And maybe this is a trick. Maybe this is some cruel, sadistic game just to make you lose but you can’t think straight when he’s this close. When he’s bending your body to his salacious intentions and treating you like a toy.

“I love you,” you whisper. You screw your eyes shut. “I do, I love you, Sir.”

He curses. Groans. “Again.”

“I love you.” You fall onto the bed stomach first but he doesn’t stop. He flips you around and he looks at you as he eats you. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

His lashes flutter. You reach for his hair and tug it with your fist and he moans into your cunt before drinking you down. Spitting on your pussy just to smear it around and thrust it back into you.

You arch. “Shit, I love you—I—”

You cum again and he enjoys every second of it. He pulls you as close to his face as he can get you and lives inside the sound of your strained whimpers.

And when you finish, he leaves your clit with a satisfied pop and licks his lips. You watch him crawl up your body until he’s settled atop your chest and you smile lazily as he reaches up to run his hand down your cheek.

“My sweet Peach,” he whispers and kisses you hard. You taste everything. You taste him. You taste the desperation woven alongside his tongue. He kisses you until you can’t breathe and he only stops so he can stare at you a little longer.

You brush your fingers through the damp curls along the back of his neck. “That was fun.”

He’s quiet. Studying you closely and you feel as though you’re being graded on a test you didn’t know you were taking.

Then, he murmurs, “I don’t say it.”

Your heart skips. You don’t have to ask what he means. “I…I know. It’s okay. I don’t expect you—”

“I don’t say it because I’m afraid I can’t live up to it,” he continues. He ignores you. “Because the last time I did, I couldn’t deliver on what it meant. My love didn’t look the same as hers did. I said it. And she still left.”

Your other hand finds his shirt. You trail your touch over the exposed skin of his chest and you feel the way his heart races. “I know.”

His brows furrow. “I want to say it,” he says softly. “I want to. For you. Because I do. And I don’t want this to feel unfair—”

“It doesn’t,” you assure him. “I promise. I…I figured you wouldn’t say it back and I was okay with that. Because it doesn’t change the fact that I do.”

Another beat. “I’m worried you didn’t mean it.”

“What?”

He sighs and sweeps his thumb along your jaw. “You’d been anxious, and you were scared. You said none of your other partners had ever been kind to you in moments like that, and…sex is intimate. It can change the chemistry in your brain and maybe…maybe you didn’t mean it—”

“I did.” You grab his face and you make him listen. “Harry, I meant it. I still mean it. And I’ll mean it tomorrow, too. And the next day. And the next.”

His expression softens.

“And I meant it long before today. I wanted to tell you tons of times and I didn’t because…I don’t know. I didn’t want to scare you,” you admit and you both smile. “It is a big word. But it’s just a word. It means nothing without action. And even if you can’t say it, you show it every day. And that’s all I could really want.”

He dips down and nuzzles his nose against yours. “I don’t deserve you, Peach.”

“No,” you tease. “No, you don’t.”

You kiss again and his body feels good against yours. His heart feels good against yours.

Then, he exhales, "I love you."

And you don't say anything. But you smile. Because you know everything he's giving up just to offer you what you want to hear.

Minutes go by before you finally change the subject and say, "You know, I kind of wish we'd been recording all that. That would have been some great content."

He laughs, relieved, and the sound is so incredibly beautiful.

“Next time,” he says and you grin as he holds you closer. “Tonight…your love belongs to me.”

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY CUTIES!!! Granted, this wasn't exactly a Valentine's blurb BUT LISTEN IT WAS CLOSE ENOUGH!!!!! ASLFJSF

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH and hope you're having the best day! No matter what it looks like or who it's with ♥️

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @ilovec0lbybr0ck @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz

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heli-writes · 2 months

Text

Heartbreak and other nuisances

Pairing: Pro-hero!Deku x female!reader

Summary: Love is never easy, especially when you're the number one hero of Japan. After getting dumped by his childhood love, Deku just can't seem to get it right, much to his mother's disappointment. When he meets y/n, he is convinced it will just be a one-night stand. Or being fuck buddies. His broken heart stands in his way. And you've got your own demons to fight.

Disclaimer: nsfw, smut, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, angst, heartbreak, bisexuality

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Minors do not interact.

Note: It's very long. This might become a series later but for now can be read as a one-shot.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Deku watches the skyline of Musutafu and tries to ignore the ringing of his phone. His patrolling shift ended a few hours ago But he can't bring himself to go home to his empty apartment.

His phone keeps disrupting the silent piece of the rooftop he is sitting on. He sighs and rubs his temple. It's probably his mother or one of his friends bugging him to go out with them.

Digging through the pockets of his hero suit, he eventually finds the ringing device. Two missed calls from his mom, three text messages from Kirishima and Denki and an email from his PR manager. He decides to check his voicemail first.

"Hey it's mum again, you haven't picked up the phone after my last few calls. So I tried again. I was just wondering if you'd like to come over on Saturday for a nice dinner with me and Toshinori. You don't have to of course but I'd be looking forward to seeing you again. Anyways, just give me a call when you have time to check your messages.", his mother's voice comes out of the phone.

He sighs and types in a quick reply.

> Hey, mom! Got your message. Sorry for not calling you back, work's a lot at the moment. Thanks for the invite, but I won't be able to make it.

His mother answers immediately.

>> Are you sure? You really should take a break from time to time. We're worried about you.

Izuku stares at the screen and pulls at his lip in thought. Just when he's about to give his mother a cheap excuse, another message pops up.

>> Yo, are you in on Saturday or not?

He opens the chat and reads that Kirishima and Denki invited him to a concert on Saturday. Then, he opens the chat with his mom again.

> Don't worry about me, mom. Actually, I can't come on Saturday because I am going to a concert with Kirishima and Denki.

>> A concert? Honey, that's nice. Have fun then!

Izuku sighs in relief. Another worried talk with his family was avoided. He's sure that he cannot stand another "A hero must have a balanced life"-talk by Yagi.

He quickly responds to Kirishima's message before putting the phone away and starting his way home.

~*~*~*~

The jeans feel uncomfortable, Izuku decides. All in all, his hero costume is a lot more comfortable than his normal clothes these days. He wears it like a second skin. Sometimes he forgets to put it off when he comes home.

His phone vibrates.

>> We're downstairs. You comin'?

He quickly puts his phone into his back pocket and grabs his key and wallet.

~*~*~*~

"I swear to god, that were the finest pair of boobs, I've ever seen!", Denki ends his dramatic story of a girl he slept with last weekend.

"It's probably the only pair of boobs you've ever seen.", Kirishima comments jokingly.

Denki immediately starts to go on a rent about all the boobs he's ever seen but Kirishima ignores him and turns to Izuku.

"So, how are you, Izuku? Haven't heard from you for a while. Didn't think you'd actually come out with us tonight.", he asks him.

Izuku shrugs.

"Same old, same old.", he answers vaguely. "Is Kachaan joining us?", he quickly tries to change the topic.

"Nah, he's busy with his girlfriend. Dude's probably spending all day and night in bed fucking.", Denki says.

Izuku feels his stomach drop. Of course, he knows about Kachaan's girlfriend. They're together for little over half a year now and the press writes about them every other day. However, he kind of hoped that Katsuki would grow tired of her eventually. After all, the only person he had ever been with for longer than six months was Izuku.

Kirishima rolls his eyes. "Denki, is sex the only thing you ever think about?", he asks annoyed. Denki gives him a smug expression. "I'm young, single, and hot. Of course, it is.", he answers.

"Talking about sex, Izuku when was the last time you got some?", Denki asks his friend nonchalantly.

Izuku furrows his brows. He actually has to think about this. He had sex after Kachaan but all these hookups were meaningless so eventually he gave them up.

"Actually, I don't know.", he replies truthfully.

Kirishima pats his back. "You don't have to tell us, buddy. But remember, we're not the press. You don't have to save face around us.", he tells Izuku.

Denkis starts laughing. "Dude, I think he's being honest. Damn, then you really need to get some tonight! But don't worry, I got ya. There are plenty of hot chicks at the club I am taking you to!", he exclaims, "Let's go!"

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the club is some kind of old, rundown pub at the end of town. Part of Izuku is glad Denki took them to a place like this. It's less likely to be found by paparazzi around here. Then again, it probably also wouldn't be good to be found by the press in a place like this.

Both Denki and Kirishima don't seem to care about that when they enter the place. There's a small stage at the end of the wide room. The banner over the stage indicates that some kind of rock band will be playing soon.

The trio makes their way to the bar first. After they've gotten their drinks, they find a corner to stand in and watch the crowd. It doesn't take Denki long to choose a chick for the night and he takes off to try his luck.

"So, how are you doing? I mean really? Don't give me a half-assed answer this time.", Kirishima asks.

Izuku takes a long drag from his beer. "Been telling you, I'm fine. Work's a lot but not surprising with our profession and status.", he mumbles just loud enough for Kirishima to hear.

Kirishima gives him a worried side glance. "You know that you don't have to carry this weight alone, do you?", he points out.

"Yeah, I know."

Izuku stares into his glass. He's not sure how or if he should make his friends understand that it's not work that lies heavy on his mind.

The truth is that the grand hero Deku is lonely. Simple as that.

He thought he found somebody special in Kacchan only to find out that it was nothing special to the explosion hero. Just something to pass the time until he found someone more fitting, someone more socially acceptable.

Izuku takes another drag from his glass when the lights suddenly dimmed. "I think the show is about to start.", Kirishima points out. "Wanna get closer to the stage?", he asks and Izuku just nods in response.

The two of them walk deeper into the small crowd that is forming. Somewhere in between the people, Izuku sees Denki's blonde hair light up.

A punk rock band enters the stage. "You know them?", Izuku asks his friend. Kirishima nods excitedly. "Yeah, they're pretty underground though. They're really cool. Katsuki introduced them to me!", he tells the green-haired men.

Blaring music starts and Izuku immediately knows that this is not his kind of music. He likes rock music but more classic hard rock like AC/DC. He can see though how this is right up Katsuki's alleyway.

Memories of loud punk music blaring out of speakers in Katsuki's bedroom flash before his eyes. He remembers the layers of sweat on his skin and the taste of Katsuki on his lips.

Suddenly, he feels nauseous.

"Hey, I'm getting another drink!", he yells over to Kirishima who already headbangs to the music.

Izuku makes his way over to the bar pushing through the masses of bodies. He starts to feel really uncomfortable. It's too loud, too hot, too stuffy.

When he reaches the bar, it takes a while to place his order. When he gets his drink, he stays at the bar. He's not too keen on throwing himself onto the dance floor again.

People squeeze past him left and right to get to the bar and get drinks. Uncomfortably, he tries to shift out of their way. Suddenly he bumps into someone with his back and cold liquid drenches his shirt.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry!", a female voice says behind him.

He turns around and then there's you.

You wear a short cocktail dress that compliments your cleavage. Your (y/h/c) hair is styled perfectly. Only your makeup looks a bit cakey, probably due to the high humidity in the pub you're standing in but Izuku doesn't even notice it.

"Don't worry, it's fine.", he mumbles and tries to turn away. He really doesn't want to get recognized. Especially not over a spilled drink.

"Are you sure?", you ask unsure but before you can say anything more, the man in front of you disappears into the crowd.

You watch him disappear in the direction of the toilets. You turn towards the bartender. "Excuse me, can I order what he had?", you yell over the music.

*~*~*~*

Izuku grips the sides of the sink. He splashes water into his face and looks at his drenched shirt. Luckily, it can be mistaken for sweat.

He would like to hole up in one of these toilet cabins. He really doesn't want to get back out there. Everybody out there seems to have a great time and he feels lost in the crowd.

Kirishima is probably already looking for him. The red-haired man already suspects that Izuku is not doing too well. He takes another deep breath before pushing himself off the sink and turning towards the door.

"Hey!", a voice says right next to him when he's out of the door. It's you again. You're holding two glasses of rum coke.

"For you. As a sorry for spilling my drink on you earlier.", you tell him and offer him one of the drinks.

Great, he thinks, a groupie trying to get my attention.

"Thanks", he tells her and takes one of the glasses. She gives him a curt nod.

"See you around", you tell him and turn around to leave.

Izuku stares after you. Did you not recognize him or are you not interested in him? Why does he feel slightly insulted?

"Hey, man, there you are. We were already wondering if you picked up a chick and left us behind!", Kirishima jokes and pats his shoulder.

*~*~*~*

"Izuku, are you coming over this weekend? We'd really like to see you again.", his mother says over the phone.

"You know, mom, I'm really busy. I don't know if I can make it.", he tells her trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Then we come over and I cook you a nice meal. I still have the spare key to your apartment.", his mother proposes gleefully.

Izuku rubs his temple. He really doesn't want his mother and Yagi to sniff around in his apartment. There's still a box of Kacchan's stuff under his bed.

"Alright, mom, I'm coming over for dinner, okay?", he gives in.

"Yes, honey, that's great. We're looking forward to seeing you.", his mother tells him contentedly.

After hanging up, Izuku rubs the sides of his head and sighs deeply. He is not looking forward to this.

*~*~*~*

"Izuku, we're so glad that you could make it!", his mother chirps and immediately hugs him upon opening the door. Yagi pats him on the back.

They go easy on him during dinner. Asking polite questions about work and his friends. His mother pries a little bit too much on what Uraraka is doing lately for Izuku's taste.

After dinner, over a cup of tea, is when the real deal starts. Izuku notices his mother and Yagi changing a meaningful glance, probably a code that now it's time to torture him.

"So... honey, how's life besides work? Anything new?", his mother asks carefully.

Izuku avoids eye contact. "Not really, I guess.", he shrugs.

"I hope you don't work too long hours, my boy.", Yagi says.

Izuku shrugs again. "Well, you know what the job is like.", he tells the older man.

"Of course, of course... it just seems as if you are really pushing yourself lately.", Yagi replies.

"We're just a bit worried about you. We never see you anymore, you barely seem to go out with your friends anymore.", his mother adds.

"I went out with Kirishima and Denki last week.", Izuku tries to defend himself half-heartedly.

"And we were really happy to hear that. It's just that you seem to go out less and less.", his mother points out.

"That's not true.", Izuku starts to get irritated, "Actually I am going out again tonight."

"Oh really, with whom?", his mother shoots back. She sees right through him.

"With Denki.", Izuku says without batting an eye. Denki is probably out tonight anyway.

"That's wonderful, Izuku! How about we drive you? Then you can have a drink or two. You came here by car, didn't you?", his mother smiles. Izuku thinks it's a bit fake. It's probably because she knows he is lying to her.

"That'd be great.", he lies, "Let me check where I am supposed to meet Denki."

He pulls out his phone.

> Hey, are you out tonight? Mind if I join?

Denki answers within seconds.

>> Hell, yeah! I'm already out, just come around!

Denki writes and sends his location.

*~*~*~*

Yagi ends up driving him. Izuku feels like a teenager who is driven to a party by one of his parents.

"You know, your mother is just worried about you.", Yagi says into the silence of the car.

"I know but she really shouldn't. I'm fine.", he tells him.

"It's just that she sees the children of her friends and worries you might not have the same opportunities.", Yagi carefully says.

"What do you mean?", Izuku asks irritatedly.

"Well you know, they get married, have children. Mitsuki's been telling how Katsuki brings over his girlfriend. They plan to move in together.", Yagi explains.

Izuku's stomach plummets. They plan to move in together? There goes any hope of reconciliation.

When Izuku doesn't answer, Yagi mistakes his silence for shame.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with being single while you're young. I mean, I've been single for most of my career, but I've got to be honest with you. I regret not having children on my own and while I am very happy with your mother, I wished I had someone to share my pain and happiness when I was younger.", Yagi explains.

Izuku isn't sure what to say. I'd like a partner but he doesn't want me? I can't move on? Even if I could, I probably have no game?

"We both just wish you'd meet someone special.", Yagi finishes as he pulls up to the bar where Izuku meets Denki.

"Well, one does not really have control over that.", Izuku says flatly and gets out of the car.

*~*~*~*

"Izukuuu!! Over here!!", Denki's shrill voice rings through the entire bar. His arms are wrapped around a woman on each of his sides. The girls giggle.

Izuku would like to walk out backward again but there us no turning back now.

"Hey", he greets his blonde friend.

"My man! Was surprised to hear from you!", Denki greets him.

"Anybody else joining tonight?", Izuku asks and Denki shakes his head.

Great, now he can spend the rest of the night watching Deki flirt with random girls.

One of the girls by Denki's side gives Izuku coy eyes. "So, are you Deku? Denki's been telling us about you.", she asks him.

Izuku shoots his friend an angry glare and Denki shrugs apologetically.

"I don't know what he's been telling you, but I can assure you very little that he says is actually true.", Izuku replies dryly.

Before the girl can ask any more questions, Izuku excuses himself to order a drink at the bar.

"A scotch, please.", he tells the bartender without paying too much attention to the other guests.

"Oh, look who we've got here. Are you stalking me, mister?", a voice says next to him.

There you are, again. Your hair hangs loosely over your shoulder and you pop a few peanuts into your mouth.

"Oh, it's you.", Izuku simply says.

"Charming.", you commented dryly.

You look him up and down.

"Why are you dressed like that?", you ask him.

Irritatedly, Izuku turns fully towards you.

"What do you mean?", he says offendedly.

"You look like you were invited to dinner by your girlfriend's parents for the first time", you say pointing at his white button-down shirt.

"I don't have a girlfriend.", he informs you.

You give him a toothy grin. "Good. You're cute.", you tell him.

Izuku shifts uncomfortably. He hates it when women look at him like that. Like he's meat.

"Sorry, I don't do casual dating.", he replies.

"Too bad", you shrug, "What are you doing then?".

"None of your business", he says coldly.

You pursue your lips. "Damn, who hurt you?", you joke.

Izuku doesn't like how you seem to see things no one else does.

"I just have different priorities.", he says.

You take a sip from your drink. "I bet.", you reply.

Finally, the bartender comes back with his drink.

Without another word, he turns to leave.

"See you around, I guess.", he hears you mumble behind him.

He's not sure why he was so rude to you. You didn't do anything wrong. You shot your shoot and took the rejection in good sport. He didn't need to be so mean.

He's not even sure why he rejected you. You look gorgeous just like last time. Your outfit compliments your natural curves and your makeup really made your eye color pop. Usually, you're totally his type. He's just really not in the mood tonight.

He spends the night brooding next to Kaminari. The girls by his side catch on his bad mood and don't bother him all evening.

*~*~*~*

He tries to be more outgoing. Meet friends, do stuff on the weekend. Things to send to his mother to prove he's out there, living his best life.

He's not.

Tonight, he is going out for dinner with Uraraka and Iida. He initiated the meet-up so he really has to go through with it tonight.

He arrives too early and has to wait for the two for a while. The dinner itself was quite pleasant. Iida is too polite to pry too much about his private life and well-being. And Uraraka is busy updating her two friends about her life. Apparently, she met someone through a friend and they are getting quite serious. His mom is going to hate hearing that.

After dinner, the three of them bid goodbye with the promise to meet up more often. Izuku knows that he probably won't be able to fulfill that promise.

He aimlessly wanders the streets. He doesn't want to go home yet. It's a real paradox. When he's home, he doesn't want to go out. And if he's out, he doesn't want to return to his empty apartment.

He's feeling nostalgic tonight so he decides to go to a place that Kacchan showed him when they were still a thing. Or whatever the hell they were.

It's a bar that has seen better days. It's usually quite empty besides some regulars who are twice as old as Izuku. The perfect place if you want to avoid noisy fans and the press.

Izuku slides into the bench that Kacchan and he always sat at. After he has ordered, he takes a look around. It seems as if time stopped in this place. Ironic, he thinks, it seems as if time has stopped for me as well.

Deep in thought, he doesn't notice how the door opens again.

"Daisuke, Hikaru, you here again? Don't you guys have wives at home?", a female voice says loudly.

When he looks up, he immediately wants to hide beneath the table. It's you. Again. Do you have a tracker on him or what? Why do you seem to appear everywhere he is?

Luckily, you're not looking in his direction. Instead, you talk to the middle-aged men on the other side of the room.

"And what about you, missy? What's a pretty young thing like you doing here every other night?", one of the men says. He sounds amused.

You shrug. "Well, what are you doing here? Drinking of course!", you tell them with a grin.

The other man shakes his head disapprovingly.

"You should at least drink with people your age, not old fucks like us!", he tells you.

You stretch your arms widely. "Well, you see any people my age? You old fucks keep invading this place!", you shoot back.

"Well, what about that guy?", the man answers and points directly at Izuku.

He wants to die. Great, here he hoped he could slip out again without you noticing him. He really doesn't want to talk to you. You turn around to him and your eyes light up.

"Hey, I know you! You're the stalker!", you grin.

Izuku looks offended. "I was here first!", he defends himself.

You give the waiter a sign and slide onto the bench in front of him. Great, just what he needed.

"Really? You're alone this time?", you ask him.

He curses you for being so perceptive.

He shrugs. "Maybe some people join me later.", he tells you.

The waiter walks over to the table and sets down a drink in front of you. It looks strong.

You look him straight into his eyes and say: "Liar".

Embarrassment shoots down his back. You take a sip from your drink and laugh.

"I know what lonely drinking looks like. Why do you think I am here?", you tell him.

"I don't know. You're certainly not dressed for a place like this.", he replies.

It's true. You don't look like you belong in a shabby bar like this. You're wearing a bright blue, floor-length ballgown.

You shrug. "What's it to you?", you bite back.

Oh. Izuku's eyebrows raise. He must've hit a sore spot there. Unfortunately for you, he's feeling bitchy tonight.

"Well, you look like one of those bridesmaids that are put into a terrible dress by a bridezilla.", he tells you.

Actually, it's not true. The dress looks gorgeous on you. It fits your skin color and hair updo perfectly. A sour expression appears on your face.

"I wasn't a bridesmaid. I chose the dress for myself.", you tell him.

"Ah, so you were at a wedding!", he says triumphantly. Apparently, he can read you as well as you can him.

You shrug.

"So what's with the lonely drinking then? Why pay for alcohol here when you could've just got drunk for free?", he asks.

"Staying too long at your ex's wedding is bad taste.", you tell him.

"Ah", he says and raises his glass taking a sip, "That's the reason for your lonely drinking? Still stuck on that ex?"

"Ha!", you exclaim. "Yeah, hell no. I'm glad to be rid of him. He's his wife's problem now. Thank god."

Izuku watches you closely. You stir in your drink and keep your eyes fixed on your nails. By the tone of your voice, he doesn't think you're lying. You sound bitter, though.

"Then what?", he asks.

"How old are you?", you reply.

"Twenty-eight. Don't change the topic.", he scolds you.

You shoot him a mean glance.

"I'm not changing the topic.", you tell him.

When he gives you a questioning look, you sit up straight and put your hands on the table.

"Alright, you're twenty-eight, uh...?", you start.

"Izuku", he tells you.

"You're twenty-eight, Izuku. How many of your friends and acquaintances are getting married, moving in with someone, maybe even having kids?", you ask.

"Quite a few.", he admits.

"Alright. Considering you're here, on a weekday, drinking alone, I'm guessing you're not even close to any of those things. How does it feel when someone brings that up?", you explain.

"Not good.", he replies dryly. What is it with you and catching onto things?

You throw your hands up in the air.

"Exactly! And what's the ultimate reminder of that than being invited to your ex's wedding?", you exclaim.

"So... I'm guessing you're far away from those things too?", he asks unsurely.

You give him a deadpan look. "The lonely drinking should've given it away.", you tell him.

You sigh exaggeratedly and lean back. Then, you empty your drink in one go. Izuku watches you slightly perplexed. When you slam down your glass, you give the waiter another sign.

"You know what the stupidest part of this is?", you ask him and he shakes his head.

"I don't even want those things. I'm sure I'm not even made for these things and still, somehow, it makes you feel bad, you know?", you ramble.

Izuku stays silent and takes another sip from his glass. He really doesn't know what he's doing here. Why is he talking to a stranger about things like this?

"You could ask me now what it is that I want.", you say.

Izuku rolls his eyes. "What is it that you want?", he asks.

"Good sex. That's really all I'm asking for but men these days don't deliver.", you reply exasperatedly.

Izuku almost has to laugh.

"Maybe you're just not meeting the right men then.", he tells you.

"Well, I'm meeting men like you.", you point out. There's something cat-ish about you when you say it.

"Maybe tonight is your lucky night then.", he says suddenly feeling cocky.

*~*~*~*

This was definitely not how this evening was supposed to go. He was not supposed to end up at that bar and he definitely wasn't supposed to take you home.

But here you are, on his bed, and him over you.

He already lost his shirt and you run your hands up and down his torso. His mouth is on yours, teeth and tongue clashing against each other.

He can already feel his dick getting hard.

He grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him. Without hesitation, you pull your shirt over your head and he's quick to open your bra. Quickly, you toss it to the side.

Izuku sits up a bit so that both of his hands are free to explore your boobs. Carefully, he kneads them with both hands. He kisses the side of your neck. He plants open-mouthed kisses along your neck, over your collarbone all the way down to one of your nipples. You throw your head back and sigh contently.

He runs the tip of his tongue over the hardened bud. He takes the nipple into his mouth gently sucking on it. All the while massaging it with his tongue.

You let out a moan and grind down on his hardened cock. His dick sits right at your slit. You keep grinding down on him, desperate for friction as he continues to tease your other nipple. You can feel how your panties get damp with each second.

You grab the sides of his head, forcing him to detach from your breast. You lean forward and kiss him again. Izuku runs his hands down your back and grabs your ass cheeks. Then, he helps you grind down on him. You break the kiss to let out a groan.

"Fuck, Izuku! You need to take off these pants!", you tell him.

He gives you a grin. "Same", he tells you.

Quickly, you get off of him and take off your pants and panties. When he's done taking off his pants, you both lie side by side. He pulls you close, your naked body pressing against his, and he claims your lips again.

You let your hands wander down his body. With your index finger you draw lines down his hip and thighs, avoiding his dick completely.

Izuku breaks the kiss and groans. "Don't tease!", he tells you and you laugh.

"So greedy", you nudge him but then give into his request.

Gently you wrap your hand around his hardened member. Izuku lets out a suppressed groan. You start in a slow space pumping his dick up and down. You spread the precum on it to make it feel even smoother.

Izuku plants a kiss on your shoulder and lets a hand wander between your legs. Slowly, he lets two fingers slide in between your warm folds.

"Fuck, you're so wet.", he groans. You shift a bit to give him better access, already panting.

Izuku draws lazy circles on your clit and you can feel more wetness slipping out your hole.

"Mhm, yes, Izuku that feels good.", you moan while still fisting his cock.

Izuku leans his forehead against yours. He dips his fingers a bit deeper, gathering some wetness and spreading it around your pussy.

Then, gently one of his fingers enters you and you can't help but let out a loud moan.

"That feels good, yes?", he mumbles and you nood.

Slowly he pumps his finger in and out of you.

"Shit", you curse. You long lost the ability to focus on pleasing Izuku.

He curls his finger inside you and you jerk.

"Can you take another, baby?", he says huskily and you nod.

He pulls out his finger and pushes two fingers in.

"Fuck!", you exclaim.

You lie back opening your legs wide for him. Izuku slides his fingers in and out you, occasionally curling them inside which almost sends you into a frenzy. He leans down and starts massaging your nipple with his tongue again.

Just when you feel a knot forming in your stomach, he pulls out. You whine in protest but he silences you with a kiss.

"You ready?", he asks you and you nod breathlessly.

He grabs a condom from the nightstand and quickly pushes the latex over his dick. Then, he takes one of your legs and places it over his shoulder. He sits up on his knees and grabs the hollow of your other knee pulling your legs further apart.

"Shit, your pussy looks so ready for me.", he tells you

"Who's the tease now?", you pant.

Izuku gives you a small grin. "Don't worry, I've got you.", he says.

He leads his dick to your entrance and your heart beats in anticipation. Slowly, he pushes his cock into your pussy. You both groan simultaneously in pleasure. He enters you in one swift movement. When his dick is nestled deeply inside you, he takes a deep breath.

"You okay?", he asks you and you give him a curt nod.

You jerk your hips because you're desperate for more friction. You feel so full but it's not enough. You need him to fuck you, to pound you.

"Shit, relax.", he groans when he feels your pussy clench around him.

"I've told you, I've got you. I'm gonna fuck you real good, baby", he groans into the skin of your leg.

Then, he starts rocking in and out of you. He starts with a steady pace.

"Fuck, yes, Izuku! Please, a bit harder!", you beg him.

He gives you a cheeky grin. "Harder? You can get harder.", he tells you.

He starts pounding into you in a heavy pace and you arch your back. Fuck, your pussy feels so good. His dick rubs you in all the right places.

Izuku's dick twitches at the sight of you. Your fucked expression, your jiggling breasts and god, how good looks his dick going in and out of you.

Suddenly, he lifts your other leg and lifts himself a bit higher allowing his dick to sink even deeper into your cunt.

"Shit, yes!", you yell out. Izuku keeps fucking you like this and his balls slap harshly against your ass cheeks.

Now, you can feel the knot in your stomach again.

"Keep going, Izuku, I'm getting there.", you tell him.

Izuku pants heavily above you and sweat drops down his chest. You think he's looking incredibly sexy right now. Also, you can't help but look down where is dick and your cunt are conjoined. The sight of his dick sliding in and out of you makes your stomach coil.

"Fuck, y/n, you feel so good. You make my dick feel like it's about to explode.", he tells you.

You clench your pussy and Izuku moans in delight. He grips your hips tighter and keeps fucking you now chasing his own height. His cock is hitting that sweet spot all the way back inside of you. You can feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You let out a breathless moan and your eyes roll back into your head.

Izuku keeps the pace hard and steady, exactly the way you need to get over the edge. When your orgasm hits you, it feels like electric shocks going down your back, your pussy clenches and then your body suddenly goes limp.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.", Izuku groans taking up speed when he sees you orgasm on his cock. He fucks you through it and his own orgasm explodes right at the feeling of your clenching pussy. He fucks himself through his own high and then collapses on top of you.

It takes a moment for both of you to regain some thinking capacities. When his consciousness returns to him, Izuku slips out of you. You're lying next to each other, both facing the ceiling catching your breath.

„And? Did I deliver?“, Izuku pants.

He can't see it but you give him a side-eye. The questions weirds you out. Does he really need to get praised? Does he need to get approval so badly? Well, it supposedly makes sense. A pro-hero depends on the praise and approval of other people. You think it's a little bit pathetic. If he hadn't fucked you already, it'd be a major turn-off.

In all honesty, though, he did deliver. It was more than just good. He clearly proved he's got the stamina of a pro-hero. However, you don't stroke men's egos. Most men have a big enough ego as it is, so why inflate it further? Plus, this guy has girls fawning at his feet and you refuse to steep down on a groupie level. No, thank you.

For a moment you think about being mean and saying something like it was „alright“ or „okay“ but you take pity on the man. He made you cum, so you shouldn't be mean. Also, you wouldn't say no to him doing it to you again. So, be nice and keep the option open.

„I'm not sure what you expect me to say.“, you tell him truthfully and Izuku looks a bit embarassed.

„I'm not gonna sing your praise, but I tell you it was good. Definitely would do it again, but I've got an 8am appointment tomorrow.“, you say a bit softer.

Izuku props himself up on his arm as he watches you look for your clothes and dress yourself. Obviously, he knew this was nothing serious but he lowkey hoped you stayed the night. He knows Katsuki's girlfriend was a one-night stand at first who then turned into something more. Maybe part of him hoped something like that would happen to him too. Or maybe he just doesn't want to be alone tonight.

When you're dressed, you turn to him.

„Alright, I better get going.“, you tell him and Izuku only nods at you.

He doesn't really know what to say. Actually, he probably just sucks at one-night stands. It's probably why none of them ever turned out to be something more for him.

„So... see you around?“, you drawl when he doesn't answer you.

Quickly, Izuku puts on one of his well-practiced smiles and nods more enthusiastically.

„Yeah, see you around. I had a good time.“, he tells you and you look relieved. At least he isn't making it more uncomfortable than these things usually are.

You give him a quick wave and turn around to leave. Izuku holds his breath until he hears his front door fall shut. With a groan, he drops back onto his pillow facefirst.

Why does he keep doing this? He should know better. He's not made for these types of flings. He doesn't even want them. Izuku is a through-and-through relationship type of guy and yet he always ends up alone at the end of the night.

Maybe he can't hold someone's attention for more than a night or maybe Kacchan just ruined him for everybody else.

*~*~*~*

You fix the position of your panties as you wait for the elevator to reach the ground level. You quickly look in the mirror. Your hair and makeup look awful. Suddenly, you're very glad you're not staying the night. Nothing would be more shameful than to walk home like this in the morning.

You rub your temple. Your plan was to take somebody home from the wedding. So that your ex would see. Maybe that was already a stupid idea. Why would he care if his ex takes somebody home on his wedding day? It's the luckiest day in his life and there's a reason why it wasn't you standing next to him in a white dress.

Actually, it's probably for the best you didn't take someone home from the wedding. Maybe he would've laughed about it and said it fits the pattern. Y/n, the mess, never taking anything seriously, always out there for a good time but not a long time. At least like this, you left with your grace intact. Also, it helps a little bit that you looked absolute bomb in this dress.

You sigh deeply. And yet, he would've been right. After all, you had nothing better to do than go find yourself a hook-up at a random bar right afterward. Poor Izuku, he made it clear last time that he wasn't interested in something like this. And yet, he ended up in your spider's web. You wonder what changed his mind. Maybe it was the dress.

When the elevator reaches the ground, you quickly exit it and walk through the lobby in an equally quick step. There's no need for anybody to see you like this. You're almost out of the door when the post boxes next to the entry catch your eye. You stop for a moment.

No, y/n, this is a stupid idea, you tell yourself. He won't text anyway. What was that about not stepping down onto a groupie level? Then again, it was a pretty good orgasm. Hell, one of the best ones you had in quite a while.

Maybe you're still horny or drunk from earlier, clouding your better judgement, but before you can stop yourself, you pushed your business card through the slit of Izuku's post box.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in possible future parts]

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taesanrot · 1 month

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[soothe] taesan x f!reader | 1.9k words established relationship, body worshipper!taesan, office worker!taesan, fluff and mostly smut note. this is kinda new territory for meeee thank u to anon who requested this <333 i had fun writing this and imagining taesan as a little office worker

as a manager at his company, taesan typically had his plate full no matter what day it was. for some reason though, today was exceptionally taxing on him.

fingers typing away mindlessly at an email to his higher up, taesan couldn't help but daydream about ditching in the middle of his shift and driving home with the windows down, letting the wind mess up his hair. he thought about how nice it would be to come home to you.

taesan checked the time; it was only 11:30 in the morning. your work hours were a bit more flexible since you worked from home, you were probably showering and getting yourself ready to log in.

screwing his eyes shut, he shuddered at the way his mind wandered to you under the hot water.

you always turned the water a little too hot before stepping in, letting out a little yelp before fixing the temperature. he imagined the suds running down your shoulders and down the curves and ridges of your body, the thought almost making him throw his head back against his chair.

fuck.

taesan usually tried not to think of you at work, especially you showering or changing. it always got him so worked up and made waiting for the end of his work day even more unbearable.

chewing the inside of his cheek, taesan grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text message, a cute little picture of him at his desk.

you opened it within a minute and sent a picture back. taesan held his breath as he clicked the notification open. smiling softly, he took in the sight of you.

you were perched in your desk chair with your legs crossed, sipping a cup of coffee you probably just brewed in your shared kitchen.

taesan wished you knew what you did to him. while the thought of you drove him crazy and kept him all pent up, it also calmed him down and soothed his nerves like no drug ever could.

locking his phone and looking back at his work, taesan groaned. it was going to be a long afternoon.

[...]

pushing your glasses up your nose, you typed away at your desktop computer, sitting criss crossed in your desk chair. the last rays of the evening sun shone through the window of your and taesan's shared apartment.

yawning, you leaned back and stretched out your arms and shoulders, groaning slightly. your coffee from this morning was now cold, you decided to take a break and reheat the rest of it.

grabbing the mug and walking over to the kitchen, you placed it in the microwave and leant against the counter. as the microwaved beeped and your drink was warmed up, you heard the front door unlock and creak as it was pushed open.

you smiled and pulled your drink out of the microwave, waiting for your boyfriend to walk around the corner.

you heard a loud sigh and the sound of shoes and a bag hitting the ground and before you knew it, taesan appeared in front of you.

hair messy and tie loosened, the boy sighed in relief at the sight of you, the one he was waiting to come home to. he strided across the kitchen and into your arms, exhaling louding as he melted into you.

"i missed you." you blushed at how raspy your boyfriend sounded, the exhaustion evident in his tired voice.

taesan pressed his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his grip on you even more. your hands came up to rub circles along his spine, encouraged by the sounds of satisfaction that echoed into your skin.

after a minute, you attempted to pull away from him, remembering your coffee sitting on the table. taesan trapped you in his grip, molding himself to your body as if he was trying to bury himself under your skin.

"no" you laughed at his stubborn voice, calmly cooing at him.

"taesan, my coffe-" you were shushed by your clingy boyfriend as he walked the two of you over to the living room couch, keeping his arms wrapped around you the whole time.

"i'll make you some fresh coffee later." and with that, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, moving your legs so they rested on either side of his.

finally face to face with him again, you smiled at taesan's pouty lips. you brought a hand up to smooth down some of his messy hair, smiling at the way he practically melted into your touch.

his hand came up to intertwine with yours and he pulled it to his lips, placing a wet kiss on the back of your hands.

the loud smack made you giggle and taesan moved to your face, loudly pecking your cheeks and forehead and nose. he even kissed your eyelids, further egging on your laughter.

after he was satisfied with teasing you, taesan sighed and leaned further back against the couch, pulling you with him so your head rested in the crook of his neck.

you sighed in delight as you breathed in the scent of him. practically feeling the exhaustion radiate off of his body, your hands moved to undo his tie and take off his jacket.

taesan remained motionless, smiling at the way you doted on him so sweetly. no matter how hard or long any day at work was, he always felt at peace knowing he'd come back to you.

you who'd take care of him without a second question. you know he'd do the exact same for you, that if you asked him he'd rub out every knot in your body or clean every inch of the apartment for you.

left in his dress pants and shirt, you undid the top two buttons to relieve the pressure around his neck before going back to your previous position. taesan's arms snaked around your waist, hands loosely resting on your hips, and his eyes fluttered shut.

taesan shivered as he felt you breathe against the shell of his ear.

"do you want me to rub your back?" you asked tenderly. taesan pondered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.

"mmm, just wanna lay here with you." you smiled and got up from his lap, pushing his shoulders lightly so he could move to lay down across the couch.

you grabbed a small throw blanket from the ottoman nearby. turning back to walk towards the couch, you laughed at taesan's pouty face, arms outstreched towards you.

"you're like a cat, sani" you giggled before joining him on the couch, draping the blanket over the two of you. taesan wrapped his arms around you. breathing in happily, you listened to the sound of his heart beating as his warmth encased you.

taesan's hand moved up and down your sides, trying to memorize every ridge of your body with his fingertips.

you inhaled slightly as his hand ghosted over your boob, opening your eyes to look at his.

"can i?" taesan asks softly, smiling when he watches you nod mindlessly.

taesan dragged a finger down the valley of your breasts, watching the way chest moves with your shallow breaths. his hand trailed further down the front of your body, twisting the hem of your shirt and waiting for you to move your arms so he can take it off. you moved your body up so he can pull the article off of you, now left in your bra and sweatpants. you laid down on top of him and while taesan loves the sight of your boobs squished against his chest, he needed to be on top of you.

your boyfriend flipped the two of you so he was now hovering over you. he bit his lip at the sight of you, looking up at him with your doe eyes. your tongue came out to lick your lips and taesan almost saw stars.

he brought a hand to massage the skin of your right breast, palming your nipple over the cup of your bra. you closed your eyes and tilted your head back as he lowered his head to kiss the skin between your breasts. taesan's mouth moved up your left boob, teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and licked to his desire.

his mouth was warm against you, making you arch your back and push your chest into him. he responded to his immediately, taking the opportunity to slip a hand under you and unhook your bra.

bra discarded on the floor, taesan cupped your right boob and massaged it slowly, tweaking your nipple slightly. he peppered kisses along your chest, stopping to take your nipple in his mouth. you moaned at the way his tongue swirled around the bud, his hot breath making you shake underneath him.

his hands traveled downward to squeeze your hips, holding you down as you squirmed underneath him. running a hand through his hair, you tugged it slightly before tapping his chin lightly. breathless, your boyfriend looked up at you curiously. he received an answer as you pulled him up to be face to face with you.

taesan could read you like a book, he knew you wanted to kiss him from the way your fingers traced his neck and jaw. bringing a hand to curl around your neck, he let his lips meet yours, melting against them softly. you were more than eager, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into you.

as taesan sucked your bottom lip and stuck his tongue into your mouth, you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, tugging it slightly. you boyfriend chuckled above you, detached himself from your lips to pull his shirt off completely.

you sighed, finally being able to run your hands down his bare back. one hand moved into his hair to tug and massage his scalp as the other rubbed circles along his shoulders and spine. occasionally, you let your nails lightly scratch against his skin, just the way he liked it.

"that feels so good." taesan's voice rumbled into your skin as he rested his head on your chest, cheek pressed against the pulsing skin under which your heart was beating softly.

reaching back to pull the blanket back over the two of you, taesan snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your torso and waist and basking under your attention. nothing soothed him the way you did, the feeling of your palms and fingers against his bare skin filling up the cracks of exhaustion and frustration within him.

your hands slowed their movements, and your boyfriend looked up from your chest to see you snuggled into the couch's armrest, eyes shut. the boy smiled at the sight of you, shifting upwards so he could lay his head on the armrest beside yours.

you stirred slightly, and taesan wrapped at arm around you to pull you into his chest. he felt his heart bloom as you sleepily hugged him closer to you.

the apartment was almost completely dark now, only lit up by the dull glow of your computer screen. pressing your head into the crook of his neck, taesan felt like the luckiest man ever, falling asleep to the slow sounds of your breathing.

#han taesan #han dongmin #han taesan x reader #taesan fluff #taesan x reader #taesan smut #taesan #bnd fics #bnd smut #bnd imagines #boynextdoor #taesan imagines #taesan boynextdoor #bnd fluff #bnd x reader #boynextdoor x reader

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 6 months

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I'll Be Home for Christmas - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Some Crying and Slight Angst; No Physical Descriptions of Reader; Reader is a Teacher; Use of "You" but No Y/N

Summary: Bob promised you that he would be home for Christmas.

Master List

Dating a naval aviator wasn’t easy. Bob's schedule was erratic and never usually worked in their favor. He could be in one place one day and a completely different continent the next or out in the middle of the ocean. And it wasn’t easy to communicate with him when he was deployed. Emails and letters were about all you could usually manage.

For Bob, you would do it all over again to keep him in your life. But that didn’t make the holiday season any easier.

Bob, along with the other Daggers, had been deployed for the last six months. Somewhere in the Pacific, that was all that you knew. He told you that they would be docking today and so you waited outside the school where you worked, anxiously waiting for his call. The call about whether or not he would be home in time for Christmas or not.

Fiddling with the necklace that he bought you for your one year anniversary nearly three years ago now, you sucked in a breath when your phone started to ring. The photo of you and Bob on the hike you took on his birthday last year.

“Bobby?” you called softly, answering the call.

“Hi, honey,” he returned, his voice sounding clearer than it usually did on these types of calls. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you,” you replied, smiling bashfully. “What about you?”

“Exhausted.”

“What time is it over there?”

“Pretty late.”

“Well, thanks for staying up to talk to me,” you stated, a bit concerned about Bob. He was uncharacteristically short with his sentences. “How’s Phoenix and the boys?”

“We’re all good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get the care package that I sent you?” you asked softly, fiddling with your necklace.

“Oh, yeah, I did, Honey. Thank you for sending it.”

“Did you send a video over to Leslie? She was putting a movie together for the kids.”

“Yeah, I did, Honey. She’s got it.”

“Thank you for doing that. The kids will really appreciate it.” After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, you asked, “Are you okay, Bobby?”

“I’m fine,” Bob replied, his voice cracking a bit.

“Bobby.”

“Honey, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I'm not sure that I’ll make it home in time for Christmas,” Bob revealed, causing your heart to shatter in your chest.

“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s not your fault. There’s always other holidays.”

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on coming home safely. Whenever that is.”

“I will. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I really miss you,” you replied, your voice breaking at the end.

“I really miss you too. And I’m so sorry, Honey.”

“Stop apologizing, Bobby. Just come home safe and that’s good enough for me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye, Honey.”

“Bye, Bobby.”

Hanging up the phone, you sniffled and wiped your tears away. You let out a steadying breath, trying to calm yourself down, before grabbing your bags and heading inside the elementary school where you worked.

It was the last day of school before Christmas Break and so, it was your class’s Christmas party. You got to school early to set up, but now you might need to use the time to gather yourself. Opening the cabinet, you smiled sadly at the photos of Bobby that you put up. Hanging up your coat, you wiped your tears away and quickly moved to start setting up.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, just a few miles away from your school, Bob was holding his head in his hands, looking like he was going to be sick. The other Daggers were gathered around him, all having returned home just a short while earlier.

“He’s this beat up about it?” Hangman sighed, leaning on the car. “All he did was a little lie.”

“It’s a wonder that you’re still single,” Phoenix replied dryly, shooting him a look.

“I made her cry,” Bob whispered out quietly as Fanboy patted his back.

“She’ll get through it, Bob. And you only had to lie to her for a couple hours,” Fanboy reasoned, motioning for the other Daggers to speak up.

“She’ll forget all about it once she sees you,” Phoenix replied, looping her arm under Bob’s and pulling him to his feet. “Now, come on, we’ve got some shit to do before the big reveal.”

~~~~~

“One, two, three, eyes on me!” you called, clapping on the numbers and then pointing at yourself. When you saw that all of the kids were looking at you, you added, “Alright, do you guys remember when we made those care boxes? For the service men and women?”

Various kids shouted out that they did remember, causing you to nod and smile. Since you worked in a Navy town, many of the kids in your class had parents or other family members in the Navy. The care packages had been a personal project that you decided to bring to your class, since you knew that a lot of the kids would be in a similar position as you—wishing that someone that they loved so much came home for Christmas.

“Alright, well, Ms. Sullivan put together a video of them opening the boxes that we put together. So, if everyone could sit in their seats quietly, we’ll start the movie.”

You dimmed the lights before the video started up and slowly sat in your seat, waiting for Bob’s video to pop up. Kids in your class would yell out when they saw their family member, which made your heart both swell and break at the same time. The video continued on until Bob’s familiar face appeared on the screen.

“Hi, everyone,” he called, waving to your class.

“It’s Mr. Bob!” one of your kiddos yelled out.

“Yeah, it’s Mr. Bob,” you mumbled sadly before you paused, frowning slightly as you examined the video more closely. “Is that the cafeteria?”

“What?” Ms. Sullivan asked, trying to hide her smile.

“That’s the cafeteria,” you stated, getting to your feet.

Walking up to the screen, you scrutinized the image of your boyfriend as he pulled out the items from the box, including ones that you definitely didn’t put there. Confused, you turned to Ms. Sullivan when the door opened and the lights turned back on.

Looking at the door, you spotted Bob standing there in his flight suit, beaming at you with such a loving smile that your knees wobbled. Choking out a sob, you sprinted over to your boyfriend, causing your kiddos to scream and cheer. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing tears of joy as he pulled you to his chest.

“It’s Mr. Bob!”

“He came from the video!”

“What are you doing here?” you cried, fisting the back of his flight suit. “I thought that you couldn’t come home.”

“I’m sorry, Honey, but I lied. Can you forgive me?” Bob asked, rocking you back and forth.

“Of course, I forgive you,” you choked out as Bob wiped your tears away. You snuck a chaste kiss before straightening up. “I love you so much, Bobby.”

“I love you too, Honey. And I’m really relieved that you forgave me because otherwise this would be really awkward.”

“What are you . . .”

You held a hand to your mouth as Bob slowly got down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket, causing your kiddos screams to reach new heights. Bob opened the box and you swore you almost fell to your knees. He looked at you with those big blueberry blue eyes, which were filled with so much love and devotion.

“Will you marry me, Honey?”

“Say ‘yes’!”

“You have to say ‘yes’!”

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Bobby,” you replied softly.

He stood up and you pulled him in for another chaste kiss that promised more when there weren’t thirty-five six-year-olds staring at you. He slid the ring onto your finger, where it would stay forever. Turning to your kiddos, you laughed and tried to wipe your tears away as they raced towards you guys. Bob squatted down again, accepting high fives and a few hugs, which only made you fall more in love with him.

As if that was even possible.

School was released shortly afterwards and after cleaning up the Christmas decorations and Bob hauling stuff out, the two of you walked out to your car. The Daggers told you that everyone would celebrate your engagement tomorrow, but tonight, it was just you and Bobby.

“I told you that I’d be home for Christmas,” Bob replied, opening your door for you.

“You did,” you agreed, pressing a less appropriate kiss to his lips. “And I think that the only time you’ve ever successfully lied to me.”

“And the last,” Bob promised, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Merry Christmas, Honey.”

“Merry Christmas, Bobby.”

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #bob x reader #bob fluff #bob floyd #bob #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd x you #bob x you #bob floyd x you

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

Text

Rival V

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Gooner to Gunner

Arsenal coming calling for you a few weeks after your seventeenth birthday. You've been playing professionally for Linköping since you were fifteen, following the under-seventeen Euros, as their second choice goalkeeper.

You always knew, much like your mothers, that you didn't want to stay in Sweden your whole career. It's off the back of completing your final matches as the Under-seventeen team's captain in a round of friendlies that you get the email.

You're mucking around on your laptop, aimlessly typing something out for one of your classes when you switch tabs to your Momma's emails.

It had been terribly easy to crack the password (your and Morsa's birthdays put together) and you made sure that she didn't know you were logged in. It's not like you had been planning anything malicious but it was Momma's email that was connected to the Amazon account and you were just too impatient to wait to see what surprise she had ordered to celebrate your tenure as captain for the youth team.

You had been tracking the package for days now and just so happened to spy this new email at the top of the list.

You frown. It's got your name on it. You're not eighteen yet so all of your professional stuff comes through either Momma and Morsa and-yes, Morsa was cc'ed into the email too.

You click on it. There's nothing wrong with that, you think to yourself, because it's about you anyway. There's no harm in finding out what it was a bit early.

Your eyes skim through the email, your heart stuttering in your chest.

It was a contract proposal.

The same position, second goalkeeper, but for a hell of a lot more money.

At Arsenal.

You glance behind you.

Everywhere you've ever moved, your framed Leah Williamson shirt ends up over your bed.

Always.

Even when you gained so many more world class player's jerseys (Tia Tana, Alexia, Keira Walsh, just to name a few), Leah's one always ended up over your bed.

Your door swings open and your hurriedly close the tab, writing more nonsense for your schoolwork.

"Morsa!" You exclaim," Knock!"

Morsa laughs. "Sorry, princesse, I don't realise I was raising such a moody teenager."

"I could have been naked," You scoff.

"This early? No chance. I just came up here to say that dinner's ready."

"Dinners ready or it's nearly ready and you're using me to set the table?" You're wise to Morsa's tricks.

"We ordered in. Dinner is actually ready."

By the time that you've washed your hands and made it downstairs, Momma and Morsa have made space for you to slot between them.

You try to keep quiet for a little bit but the email you've just read makes you antsy and anxious.

"So..." You say finally as the show you're watching finishes and your Morsa starts flicking through the channels to find something new. "How was work?"

Momma frowns at you suspiciously. "Good. Why?"

You try to be casual. "No reason. So...no funny email chains? Nothing interesting?"

Momma turns to look at you fully. "What's going on with you? What have you heard?"

You shrug. "Me? Nothing."

She watches you with narrowed eyes. "Magda, what have you told her?"

"Me?" Morsa's got a slice of pizza hanging from her mouth. "Why do you think I've told her something?"

"She's acting suspicious. Just like you do when you know something you shouldn't."

"I haven't told her anything. I've barely seen her all day. She came straight home from training and shacked up in her room to do schoolwork."

Momma is still staring at you as she fishes her phone out of her pocket and flicks through her emails. Like you, it doesn't take her long to find it.

She sighs - long and drawn out and she rubs her temple with her fingers. "I don't know how you found out about this before me but-"

"Please! Please! Please! Please, Momma!" You're kneeling on the ground in front of her, hands clasped together. "I'm nearly out of the contract with Linköping. Please! It'd be such a good opportunity!"

"Whoa, whoa," Morsa says quickly," Slow down. What's going on? Pernille, huh?"

Momma sighs again, turning her phone over to Morsa. "Arsenal is interested in her."

Morsa skims through the email, her eye twitching slightly. She looks at you and says," No. If you want to go to England, we can see if Chelsea will take you."

You sigh just like Momma did. "Morsa, please! I don't even like Not-Wolfsburg! I'll play so good at Arsenal, I promise!"

"First of all," Morsa says," You're seventeen. You have got to stop calling Chelsea Not-Wolfsburg. Second of all, you're seventeen. In what world is moving to England a good idea at the moment?"

"For football!" You exclaim, standing on your feet and grabbing at her hands. You know Momma will support you in anything you want to do, including this. So it's just Morsa (who would probably prefer it if you joined fucking Spurs than Arsenal) that you have to convince. "Morsa, please! I...I'll give it my all! Please! Arsenal's the goal!"

"I thought Wolfsburg was the goal."

"It is!" You say," But that's the long term goal! Wolfsburg will be sure to watch me if I play in the WSL!"

"Wolfsburg was watching your Momma when she was still at Linköping," Morsa points out," Why can't you stay at Linköping?"

"Morsa!" You're getting a bit annoyed now. "Wolfsburg the club I want to retire at! Arsenal for Leah and Aunt Lina and Aunt Stina. Barcelona or Lyon, maybe, for Tia Tana or Daan. And then Wolfsburg!"

That causes a small smile to tug at Morsa's lips. "No Bayern on your list?"

"It's in the maybe category like Barca and Lyon! Don't change the subject! Who knows when an opportunity like this will come up again? The national teams will be sure to watch me properly too, if I'm playing in England!"

Momma laughs. "Magda," She says," Just put her out of her misery, already."

You look between them. "Huh?"

Morsa stands up, drawing you up into a hug. "Of course you can sign for Arsenal, princesse."

"Really?"

"Yes."

●～●～●～●～

You end up back in London for the first time in years within the month.

A picture goes up on social media on the day you come in to officially sign. You shake hands with the manager and pose for the photo, holding onto your new jersey.

It's probably your most prized possession now with your favourite number on the back - you're challenging yourself to clinch the first keeper position within two years.

At Linköping, your last name was on your shirt.

At Arsenal, it's your first name.

Abruptly, you're brought back to a blurry memory of sitting on the floor of your house before the move to Bayern, when you ran your fingers over Alexia's name, when your Momma explained that some of the best had only their first names on their jerseys.

"There she is."

You look up and then back down bashfully.

Leah Williamson walks up to you. She's older now, than when you first met her all those years ago. She's retired from football - just like your mothers - but she still works in the sector, one of the coaches for the women's team.

"Hi."

"You look good in an Arsenal shirt," She says," Even better now that it's not mine."

You don't know why you say it but you do," I still have the first shirt you gave me. Momma and Morsa got it framed for me."

She grins at you, clapping you on the back. "I had you pegged for a Gunner the moment you wandered into our dressing room." She breathes in deeply. "Let me just take a moment. This is a nice full circle moment for me."

You laugh. "Me too."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson #magdalena eriksson x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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stayconnecteed · 8 months

Text

🪐˓⠀˚⠀types of kisses with skz⠀@⠀ot8 imagines.

warnings: (slightly spoilers) mention of overworking in bangchan's. minho's type of kiss is french kiss (it's self explanatory: suggestive), and also mentions of blood and wounds, nothing too bad, just some scratches. changbin's soft hours, insecure reader, lonely time but fluff everywhere. brief mention of hyunjin's hiatus and covid on his part. nothing to say about han and felix, just fluff. mentions of menstruation on seungmin's, and a lot of insecurities too. a little bit of drama on i.n's, he ignores the reader but it turns out well. let me know if i miss something.

( hii! have a wonderful sunday ♡ )

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ CHAN, FOREHEAD KISS ❜

You had spent the whole afternoon locked up at your studio, focused on finishing the last assignment that was due before the end of the semester, avoiding the slight breaks you had promised you would made and returning immediately to collect information and write the final text. You knew the teacher was quite strict, and with your need to make sure your final score in the subject was high enough, you had spent the last days perfecting up even the last detail of the project. It wasn’t the first time you experienced this kind of situation, and since you moved with your boyfriend a few months ago he was now aware of your habits while studying, so after a lot of mistakes and excuses you managed to communicate with each other and get to a dynamic that would allow you to continue with some of your routines without Chris suffering from concern. The truth was that when you entered that state of concentration, little affected you what happened around as long as you were able to fulfill what you had proposed to do that day, and your boyfriend was worried that those habits would end up becoming hurtful for you in some way.

That particular afternoon you couldn’t help but notice Chris’ restlessness as your fingers pressed, fast, the keys of your laptop. Sometimes he had even made you crack a faint smile for his little antics, like filling your cup of coffee when he saw that there was nothing left or peeking through the door of your studio often to see how you were going. It made you feel a little guilty because you knew it was his free day and what he most wanted was to spend it with you, even it was only enjoying the company of the other cuddling in the couch. But you couldn’t allow yourself to put those moments forward when there was a project of such importance that you had to finish, no matter how much you wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend.

And you really wanted. That was your biggest motivation. It was the only reason why when all your work was finally rewarded and you downloaded the finished document, sending it to your teacher’s email, you exhaled a trembling breath and stretched on the chair, noticing how the muscles of your back relaxed after hours tensing over the laptop screen. You turned off the device and closed the studio door carefully not to make noise, deciding that you wouldn’t go back into that room for the rest of the week. You went to the living room with an euphoric smile on your lips, wishing to refuge in your boyfriend’s arms, but you stopped when you saw Chris laying down on the couch with his phone pulled over his chest, and his eyes closed, completely asleep.

You stood against the frame of the door, watching him. It was rare to be able to come across him at such moments of absolute peace and rest, since when you woke up in the morning he was already up and at night you fell asleep before him. You admired him in silence for a few minutes, letting your eyes glim over his relaxed factions, his partially open lips, and the pale freckles barely noticeable on his cheeks. You looked at the time and realized it was quite late, so you left Chris resting in the couch, slowly closed the door and went to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.

You couldn’t help but hum the last song you had heard your boyfriend work on as you pulled out the ingredients from the cupboard, willing to make jjajangmyeon as quickly as possible, knowing it was one of his favorite meals. You focused on the stoves, selecting the best pieces of bacon for Chris and spliting the food into two bowls. Once placed in the bowl you got the chopsticks after searching a little in the cutlery drawer, and you put two glasses with water. You made the mental note of buying some kind of storage method to separate knives, spoons, and forks, and be able to have the damned drawer somewhat neater, and you went back to the living room sliding your socks on the floor to avoid making any noise. You opened the door carefully and smiled as you listened to Chris’s slight snoring, feeling guilty when you left the bowls on the table in front of the couch, and sat next to him, with the mission of waking him up. You took his phone, keeping it safe next to the tray, and put one of your hands on his chest, feeling the calm beats of his heart.

You laid down slightly on him, caressing his cheek, calling him with a soft voice. “Channie…,” you whispered, sliding your fingertips along his cheekbones, delineating the shapes of his face, “Baby, wake up, it’s time to eat something…”

Chris began to open his eyes lazily, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his factions contract in a gesture of confusion, just as if you just had asked him to solve a very difficult math problem.

“YN? Did I fall asleep?” He asked, sliding his arms over your back and wrapping you in a hug. You raised your caresses up to his chaotic curls and mumbled a little assent noise, letting the warm atmosphere you two where wrapped in cover you completely. You loved those moments with him. They were the perfect reward for so many hours of work. And you knew he thought the same. “What time is it? I was going to prepare something for you so that you could take a break and we have some dinner together.”

“Don’t worry, love,” you whispered back, noticing how he leaned to your touch, resting his head on your hand, and enjoying your attention, “I delivered the essay a while ago, and I have an entire week for you before I start studying the final exams. The busy afternoons have ended, at least for a few days.”

His gaze lightened, and he broke into a genuine smile that caused you to stir inside. “I’m very proud of you, baby, you are going to have a very high grade on that test.” You changed posture, straddling Chris’ hips, hugging him, and rested your cheek over his chest, taking advantage of his body heat like some kind of stove. “What do you think, should we… plan something? To celebrate? You and I on a little trip, alone, as soon as my free days coincide with your holidays?”

You raised your head, delighted. “Seriously?”

“Of course. I want to have you all for myself,” he said, suppressing a laugh, and increasing his grip on you, still with his arms around you.

You made him squirm with tickles, “I also want you all for myself, as long as we can,” you said, leaning back on his chest. “Oh, the jjajangmyeon is cooling, we should eat it now.”

Chris closed his eyes and released a sigh, smiling. “You did jjajangmyeon? After all the afternoon working? God, I don’t deserve you.”

You let out a laugh that made your chest vibrate with his, and you rested your forehead on his, “You deserve this and more, Channie. You were sleeping, it was the least I could do after ruining your free day”

“You could never ruin anything,” he protested, running his fingers through your hair almost without realizing, just because he knew it calmed you as much as it did to him. “Can we stay like this for a while?” Chris asked, waiting for your answer. As soon as he felt you nod against his chest, he let his body relax, kissing your forehead softly, and he couldn’t help but think that he wanted to stay like that forever.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ MINHO, FRENCH KISS ❜

Minho was tired. It was barely nine o'clock at night, but he had had to get up early to record a song that Han had proposed him to sing at the company, and the morning kept him busy with his MC job. If he had time to eat it was because he let himself be kidnapped by Felix with the excuse that he wanted to perfect an old choreography, but with the imminent concerts he ended up rehearsing for hours steps that he knew without the necessary practice wouldn't come out as clean as he wished. When the company car dropped him off in front of your apartment, it took him a lifetime to get out and walk the few meters of sidewalk, to reach up and force the key in the lock, and even to press the button for your floor in the elevator. But he was rewarded when he opened the door and was greeted by that atmosphere he so adored and was beginning to call home: the soft sounds of something frying in the pan, light notes of your favorite perfume that he inhaled as he hung his coat next to yours, and your voice humming softly from the kitchen. He let out a sigh, managing a faint smile, and set his backpack down in the entryway, announcing that he had just arrived.

He decided to take a shower first to make some time while you finished dinner, and couldn't help but follow the rhythm of the song you were crooning, walking down the hallway to your room and choosing some of the clothes you always had ready in your closet for these occasions. If his usual residence was the dorm he shared with Felix, I.N and Seungmin, in his spare time he divided his time between his parents' home, where his cats lived, and your apartment. Even so, he was usually able to sneak away for the occasional night to sleep next to you, and enjoy your company. He always gave you advance notice, but every once in a while you woke up with your boyfriend's cheek pressed against your belly, and his arms around your waist, protesting when you pretended to get up and muttering something along the lines that he didn't have a schedule in the morning. Those days you took advantage of your comfortable work from home and decided to give up, snuggling closer to Minho, and enjoying each other for hours talking about nonsense. Then he would take over your kitchen and prepare the latest recipe that had caught his eye while you rambled on about ideas you had for your future projects, giving him back hugs from time to time and kissing his shoulder blades with the greatest delicacy in the world.

As he washed his hair he couldn't help but miss the way you stroked it when you cuddled, an activity you practiced very often because it always relaxed him when he had had a bad day. He decided to ask you to do that when, after dinner, as he knew was going to happen, you begged him to watch at least one episode of that series you had started last week. It was in English, and although he was sure you would put the audio in Korean if he asked, he was content to program the subtitles in his language while you finished the dishes. He always fell asleep anyway. It's not that he wasn't interested, but your presence soothed him inside, and he couldn't help but enter a mental space of total relaxation when he rested his head on your lap at that time of night.

When he got out of the shower, he put the towel over his head, still without the energy to pull his arms up high enough to remove the moisture from his hair, and headed to your room to get dressed with the clothes he had left on your bed. The clothes felt extremely soft and gentle against his skin, and he let out the closest thing to a purr, which made him smile with his eyes closed. His clothes smelled like you, and he understood, with a pleasant warmth settling in his chest, why you were always asking him for hoodies and t-shirts: it was like taking you with him. Not just you, but everything you represented: warmth, joy, comfort. His steps were quiet and slow as he walked towards the kitchen, still absorbed in his thoughts. In was then that he registered the smell of japchae, your signature dish, which you made when you had had a good day, even if you did it unconsciously. Minho thought it was adorable, and he didn't plan to unveil your method of celebration, because he always felt better to see you so happy, and besides he was used to cooking it himself ーhe wasn't going to complain about enjoying a meal that he didn't prepare and that also came out so delicious.

Minho collapsed into one of the comfortable, cushioned chairs you had purchased relatively recently in an attempt to redecorate your apartment. He let out a sigh and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them, with no energy to do anything but watch you dancing around the kitchen getting everything ready to serve dinner. Your boyfriend was an observant person by nature, and usually preferred to stay out of the way so he could get the full picture of any situation he was involved in. With his groupmates and loved ones he tended to loosen up more, and would bring out his bubbly, fun-loving personality. But at times like this, he was very grateful to have you in his life. With you he could spend hours laughing nonstop at a joke that wasn't even that funny, but you ended up fooling around so much that your eyes would sparkle with tears. And he would laugh with you because seeing you smile so genuinely made his heart fuzzy.

When he saw you approaching the cupboard to get the bowls, he rushed to help you, but you dropped them when you noticed the presence of someone at your back, with your pulse racing.

"MINHO!" you exclaimed, almost breathless, startled.

He was almost as surprised as you were, until he tucked a lock of hair that had come loose from your bun behind your ear and realized that all this time you had been listening to music with your airpods, oblivious to the fact that he had come home.

"How long have you been here?" you asked, after giving him a playful punch on the arm.

Minho gestured for you not to move as he went to grab a broom and move the pieces of broken porcelain away from your feet, and that's when you noticed you had a few cuts on your bare skin.

"Enough time to give me a good shower" he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, finding your clumsiness adorable. You both stood in silence, him picking up the mess you'd left on the floor, and you disconnecting your airpods. Once you saw that he had finished, you tried to grab another two bowls to divide the japchae you had left on the unlit stoves, but Minho took you in his arms, ignoring the silent protests of his exhausted muscles, and carried you over his shoulder, letting out a stifled chuckle at your surprised yelp. "I'll take care of the rest of dinner," he announced, ignoring your demands to let you be. Once he had gently set you down on the couch, you frowned at him in an adorable attempt to look angry.

"You know I didn't drop the bowls on purpose, don't you?" you told him, slipping irony into your words. "I think I'll be able to dish up the food."

"I don't think so," he replied, a satisfied smile plastered on his lips, "you're hurt."

Your frown deepened as you looked down at your feet and realized that as the bowls smashed against the floor, some pieces had scratched your skin, and you now had fine bloody lines on your skin. There weren't many, and you knew they wouldn't sting if you let them heal, but it was also clear to you that Minho and his eternal concern for you weren't going to let you get away with it. So you just sighed as he got up to get the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom.

He handled you carefully on his return, leaving a clean towel, the band-aids and a bottle of water on the side table, and resting your legs in his lap. His touch was gentle as he stroked your feet to check how much pain you were feeling, and although you had assumed the scratches were nothing, you did gasp when he put pressure on them. You rested your head on his shoulder and clung to his arm as he cleaned the cuts, and you closed your eyes tightly, hissing. Once he had placed a couple of band-aids over the deeper wounds, he stroked your cheek.

"Did you cry?"

"Oh, hush."

Minho managed an almost imperceptible smile, and moved his shoulder just enough for you to pull away from him.

"Not a word." you warned him.

"I don't know what you're talking about" he replied, looking away, "I was just going to tell you what happened today at dance practice..."

You nodded, as he spoke, both of you leaning back on the couch, and let his voice wash over you. You obviously had a good time when he talked to you about what he had done in his day, especially since most of the time you didn't even have time to eat together, so you took full advantage of the dinners, and the cuddle sessions in front of the TV, and the conversations you had snuggled under the covers. But there were times when you would delight in just looking at him. Watching his eyes sparkle as he talked about those boys who meant so much to him, and the new choreographies he planned for the songs composed by 3racha, or the videos his mother sent him of his cats. And not only that, but to have the freedom to look at him, openly, and absorb all the details of his face, which seemed so beautiful to you.

Without warning, you rested one of your hands on his cheek and brought his face to you, connecting your lips in a kiss. Minho let out a surprised squeak, but immediately followed through, moving his mouth along with yours, letting his hand wander from your legs over his lap to your hip. The position was slightly uncomfortable, but it didn't stop you from enjoying each other's warmth, in a slow, soft make-out session. You felt yourself melt against him as he gave your lower lip a little nibble which made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to make the kiss messier by slipping his tongue in, letting it dance next to yours, swirling around to the rhythm of your panting breaths. And just when you thought you'd run out of air, Minho pulled away from you just a few inches, gazing adoringly at you.

"What was that?" he asked, still stunned by your sudden actions.

"I don't know, I just wanted to kiss you" you told him, nuzzling back into his chest. He felt his ears turn slightly red, and was thankful you couldn't see it. "I love you, Min. Keep telling me what Hyunjin did next" you asked him. And of course, he was never able to deny you anything, so he continued with the anecdote, a lovesick smile plastered on his face.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ CHANGBIN, HAND KISS ❜

You had never been a morning person. If you had to get up early it was because of your job, and you could only face the day after a good cup of coffee circulating through your system. And on weekends you didn't get up until almost lunchtime, taking advantage of every last bit of rest you could get in bed. But that aversion to mornings changed when, after more than half a year of relationship, your boyfriend asked you to move in with him. Since then, just the thought of knowing that as soon as you opened your eyes you would be able to enjoy Changbin's beautiful features, every day was a day you started in a good mood.

That didn't stop the nights from being bad. That Friday in particular you had not been able to join the get-together that your friends had organized at that new club where they happened to play your favorite songs, and not only were you angry with your boss for having you working until late in overtime that you were not going to get paid for, but also your boyfriend was going to get home very late because he had a very busy recording schedule that night. So everything seemed to get worse when, after being the last one at the office to close, you missed the bus. And then you had to endure the fifteen-minute subway ride in rush hour, surrounded by people until anxiety made you get off at a stop that wasn't even yours. Walking back to your apartment calmed you down a bit, but your boots were killing your feet and you couldn't wait to get home to take them off.

Lucky you have an elevator, you think. And you let your tote bag slide down your shoulder until it drops to the floor, hurrying to slide the zippers of your new platform boots and let out a sigh of relief when you stop feeling the pressure on your heels. For sure Changbin is going to tease you for not listening to him when he told you to wear them around the home a bit to get your foot used to them, and also because he got mad at you (jokingly, of course) for buying footwear that made you taller than him. But he's not going to be around to greet you when you get home, so you pick up your boots and tote bag from the floor once the elevator reaches your floor, and you manage to get inside your home, leaning your back against the closed door and letting yourself drop to the floor, massaging your feet with your eyes closed.

You knew you were on the verge of a breakdown. You hated being alone in general, but after a day like the one you'd had, all you needed was a hug and words of reassurance, someone to tell you that everything was okay, and that even if it wasn't, you'd eventually get to that point. But the apartment was dark, and you felt an void in your chest. You had left the mental breakdowns phase when your college days were over, but every once in a while you would have those moments when you would start crying about the situation that made you explode and end up sobbing, almost unable to breathe, for everything you blamed yourself for in your life, and for every flaw that your mirror reflected. And it usually happened when you were alone.

You considered joining your friends, who must have been drunk by now, but even that made you too lazy. So you remembered what Changbin had recommended you to do when he first saw you this bad, and you prepared a bath. You poured in your favorite salts and dived in as deep as you wanted, knowing that you were in no hurry. When you got out you were more relaxed, and after doing your skincare and drying your hair well, you sought shelter under the covers of your shared bed. You soaked in the warmth and softness, and cried as you wished you could live in that moment forever, with no sunrises, no responsibilities, no negative thoughts about yourself. Just you, with a calm mind, those sheets that still smelled of Changbin, and the chance to start from scratch again and again.

But, like every new day, morning came, although this time as soon as you woke up you wanted to go back to sleep. You felt like your head was going to explode, and the crack of light coming through the blinds bothered you to no end. You sighed, knowing that hiding under the sheets was not going to do any good, and you made the attempt to get up, oblivious to the person sleeping next to you. As soon as you sat up, you saw yourself falling back onto the bed, and you let out an involuntary laugh. Changbin had you trapped in his arms and, even in your sleep, he kept you close to him, as if he was afraid that you would leave him at any moment.

You let him be, completely forgetting the light and your headache, and turned to face him, appreciating the delicacy of his skin, and how good it felt in contact with yours. You buried your face in the crook of your boyfriend's neck, enjoying the moment, knowing that you were feeding off these instants to survive when you were at your worst. You heard Changbin clearing his throat, probably with a slightly tired voice from the previous night's schedule, and waited for him to say something.

"Good morning, princess.”

You closed your eyes as you listened to his husky tone, and noticed how he loosened his arms around you a little when he realized how tightly he was holding you.

"Good morning, handsome," you said to him, your lips brushing against his collarbone while you spoke. "Were you very late last night?"

"I think it was like two in the morning or something," he answered you, still without opening his eyes.

"I got off work at midnight" you told him, shifting your posture slightly, resting your head on your hand so you could watch him.

"If you take a picture it lasts longer" he warned you, before opening his eyes and cracking a grin that made your heart skip a beat.

"You know that if you tell me I'll do it."

"I'm not willing to let you go get the phone, you're better off here."

And silence fell between you again. You had never felt as at peace as you did whenever you had Changbin around. And you knew he felt the same way you did, because he never tired of telling you that every time you doubted you were worthy of someone's love. Or whenever he got the chance, in general. You were perfectly capable of spending the whole morning like that, entangled in your bed, taking advantage of the quietness that you had on Saturdays when he had nothing to do. The rest of the week was chaos, with your endless hours of work and his practices and hours locked in the studio with Bangchan and Han. You had an even harder time in the weeks leading up to the comebacks, and remembering that just made you replay the night before on your head, and how you had felt when you got home.

"You're frowning," your boyfriend commented to you. "Do you want to talk about yesterday?"

You opened your eyes, surprised. Changbin had been tracing your features with his gaze.

"Y-yesterday?"

"When I came back, I noticed you'd used the bathtub and forgot to tidy up the bathroom. That only happens when you're in a sad mood. And your eyes are puffy."

Instead of letting shame eat you away, you felt your heart swell at your boyfriend's words. You weren't going to let your stupid intrusive thoughts spoil such a nice thing as the moment Changbin had just had with you: he knew you well enough to notice such things, he loved you, and he chose to stick with you every day because of it. Still, you felt guilty for not cleaning the bathroom, so you whispered a weak "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, my love," he told you, "you know I love doing things for you. If it were up to me, my baby wouldn't lift a finger, especially if you have me to do it for you."

You let him hold you again, resting your head on his chest, and sighed.

"Are you okay?"

You took his hand and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on the back of it before laying it back on your belly, and replied, looking up at him with a smile and eyes sparkling with love:

"Now I am."

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ HYUNJIN, FLYING KISS ❜

Your mother used to talk about how much you and Hyunjin fooled around when you were little. If someone had to tell an anecdote in which either of you were involved, it was certain that at least 70% of them would mention the other. You were two sides of the same coin, and you didn't know a world where the other wasn't at least a phone call away. When he had a hard time, you had a hard time; and when you cried, he cried with you. You had been together from the beginning, and many times you had sworn to be together until the end. And that's why nobody could explain why it had taken you so long to realize how much in love you were.

You had lived through the whole process of Hyunjin becoming an idol, and he had been by your side even when his busy schedule didn't allow him just so he could comfort you when your father passed away, and when that boy had broken your heart in high school. The members of Stray Kids had learned early on to love you as one of their own, and they still remembered how Hyunjin had threatened to never speak to them again if they were unkind to you or hurt you in any way. You were extremely protective of the other one, and if people gave you a choice between anyone and each other, you were very clear that you would choose each other a thousand times over. You had been the one who had spent a month's salary on blank canvases and the most varied set of brushes and colors possible when Hyunjin had developed an interest in art, and he had been the one who had gotten VIP tickets as soon as your favorite singer had announced concert dates in Seoul.

And as obsessed as you were with each other, it had taken you years and the passage of covid through your lives to realize how much the absence of each other in your lives was hurting you. You had called him one day in the a.m. when he was practicing a dance for the Korean program his group was going to perform in, and you had confessed how in love you were with him. And he had laughed, understanding the idiots you had been, and reciprocated your feelings after running out of the company to your apartment. That night you kissed for the first time, and cuddled together in your bed, feeling complete, because you had finally understood what was missing.

After that night, Hyunjin practically lived at your dorm. When the bullying scandal was announced, he spent part of his hiatus with you and part with his parents. And you took a leave of absence from your job for the first few weeks so that he wouldn't be left alone even once. Every time you had the house to yourself and noticed the changes he had made in your absence, you smiled at the new mural on the living room wall, or the boxes the delivery man had left in the entryway that were probably decorations for your room or matching clothes, even though you had insisted you would rather steal his than dress the same. Your relationship didn't change at all since the confession. You still laughed the same, cried the same and argued the same.

That morning, like most mornings, you had struggled to wake him up. You had stayed up late the night before, finishing preparations for a presentation you were going to be giving at work, and you were very nervous. Hyunjin had insisted on staying with you, changing playlists when the songs didn't convince him and working on a track Bangchan had sent him to write lyrics to. You knew the next morning was going to be difficult, but you didn't mind because his mere presence relaxed you and helped you concentrate on the Power Point. Right now his presence (or rather, his absence) was getting on your nerves, because you were making breakfast and there was no sign of your boyfriend. You were both running late.

"HYUNJIN!" you exclaimed, pouring coffee into two cups.

Then he decided to come into the kitchen, still half asleep, and in his pajamas. When he leaned down to kiss you good morning, you refused.

"What's wrong?"

"I warned you twenty minutes ago," you told him, finishing your toast and wrapping his, because you knew he wasn't going to have time to eat it at home. "Now you're not going to have time to do anything but to get dressed, we were supposed to be out the door five minutes ago!"

"Honey, I told you, the boys already know I'm late, so you don't..."

"I know that, baby," you replied, interrupting him in the same tone but in an ironic way, with your index finger under his chin so he could see the way you were looking at him, "but I don't know if you remember that you asked me to drive you today specifically and that I have a presentation first thing in the morning."

"Oh, shit."

"Yep, oh, shit."

You repressed a smile as you watched him rush out of the kitchen to grab the first sporty outfit he saw in your closet and you picked up his thermos to pour his coffee in there and clean the mug you'd just used. You left his breakfast ready on the table once you drank your coffee, and ran to put your laptop in your bag, checking that you had everything ready. He was still locked in the bathroom for quite a while and by the time you left the house, you had already called one of your coworkers ーwho happened to also be one of your best friendsー to get you a few minutes if anyone was asking for you.

You opened the front door and almost missed Hyunjin running ahead of you, hurrying down the stairs two at a time towards the garage. You sighed, grabbing the breakfast you had prepared for him knowing he would forget, and went down after him, trying to match the speed of his very long legs. You put the car in motion in record time and drove through the streets of Seoul, respecting the safety limits, looking at the clock every time a red light stopped your race, until you arrived in front of the company where Hyunjin worked and quickly pulled into the parking lot. Your boyfriend opened the car door while it was still in gear and jumped out, breakfast in one hand and his bag in the other.

"Thanks for breakfast! I love you!" he exclaimed, walking away from the car.

"Baby! What about my goodbye kiss?"

Hyunjin's eyes formed two crescent moons as he smiled, and he slung his bag at full speed, to leave his hand free so he could blow a kiss at you. You pretended to catch it before leaving the parking lot, stuffing it in the pocket your blazer had on your chest and shouting "I love you too!" back.

Years later, your mother would still confirm to anyone who asked that you and Hyunjin were chaos whenever you were together, but since you were two dorks in love, nobody cared.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ JISUNG, NECK KISS ❜

You had told Han that you were going to be late, and not to wait up for you, although you knew he wouldn't listen. That night was a night of celebration, and even though you had to work the next day, it was worth it. Your best friend had gotten an amazing job offer in the USA a few years ago and since she had moved there, you saw her a lot less than you would like to. You had made some of your vacation days coincide with your boyfriend's American tour and the two of you had gone together to his band's concert after spending the whole day visiting the city. She had shown you her favorite places, and also those places she knew you would love.

This time she had traveled all the way to Seoul, the first time you had seen each other since her promotion had been announced, and although it was a business trip, she had set aside an entire afternoon for you. The plan was simple, and quite improvised. First you had eaten together at a very good restaurant that Changbin had recommended, and then you caught up at a coffee shop near your work that you frequented on your breaks. It was a very special place for you because you had worked there for a couple of years while studying at the university, and it was also where you had met Jisung.

You told your friend how he had walked in with Hyunjin and Seungmin and hadn't opened his mouth not even once while they were placing orders. At that time they had debuted less than a year ago, and you were more of a fan of girl kpop groups anyway, so you had no idea who they were. As you were heading towards their table with the three coffees, you heard how Jisung and Hyunjin were arguing, though you didn't know what about. What you didn't expect was that Jisung would suddenly get up at the same moment you picked up his cup and set it down in front of him. Two seconds later you both had your shirts soaked in coffee, the tray was on the floor and there was a mess of shattered glass at your feet, while he was apologizing. You heard Hyunjin say something along the lines of "Since you spilled coffee on her you could finally ask for her number, you have nothing left to lose", and Jisung turned to give him a murderous glare before apologizing one last time and practically running away. Seungmin went after him after letting out a tired sigh, and left it to Hyunjin to pay for the damage.

You remembered the conversation perfectly. The idol had followed you around the establishment asking you how much the broken glasses were worth while you were looking for what you needed to clean up the mess. You had made a dismissive gesture with your hand and told him that it was okay, that it was your fault. However, when he gave you the same order but for takeaway, you couldn't help but ask which of the three was for Jisung. Instead of putting his name on the cup, as you had done with the other two, you managed to write 'for the cute guy I spilled coffee on. next one's on me' and your number. Hyunjin's eyes sparkled when he saw it and asked you if you wanted him to record his reaction to reading it, because you were going to make his day. You let out a laugh, and six dates later you were together.

After a couple of treats at the mall and a cab ride full of laughter, it was time to say goodbye to your friend. You looked at the time on your phone as you walked up the stairs and smiled when you realized that your boyfriend had sent you a couple of messages throughout the afternoon asking how everything was going. You opened the door as slowly as possible to avoid making noise in case he was already sleeping. You left your bag and coat in the hall closet, halfway ditching your shoes and leaving the bags on the kitchen table. On your way to the living room, you saw the TV still on with the words "game over" flashing on the screen and Jisung slumped on the couch with the console controller on his chest. As usual, he had insisted on waiting up for you. And as usual, he had fallen completely asleep.

You turned off the TV and approached him, running your fingers through his hair, combing his bangs in soft caresses, enjoying seeing his features so relaxed, and the little pout on his lips that filled you with tenderness. You decided to continue with your nightly routine when you noticed that he was already in his pajamas, so he wouldn't have to fully wake up on the way from the couch to the bed.

You stepped into the shower to relax after such a busy day and smiled with your eyes closed as you felt the warm water running down your back. You didn't usually take long in the bathroom unless you had to wash your hair, but shopping always made you very tired and even though the company was to your liking, as you left the mall you couldn't wait to get home to curl up in your boyfriend's arms and rest.

Within two minutes of getting out of the shower, as you were taking out your skincare products, wrapped in a towel and with a few droplets of water still on your shoulders, the bathroom door opened and Jisung appeared with narrowed eyes. Without a word he stood behind you as you watched him through the mirror and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you in a back hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Hey, baby" you called to him, your voice soft.

He nodded his head slightly, not fully awakening, but giving you to understand that he was listening to you.

"How about you wait for me in bed? I'll be done in a minute."

You felt him deny as you began to apply the products to your face, and paused when you heard an unintelligible mumbling.

"What was that, bubs? I didn't hear right" you asked him.

"I missed you today" he repeated, opening his eyes slightly and making eye contact with you through the mirror. "How did it go?"

"I missed you a lot too" you replied, your hands busy with creams and toners as you spoke. "We were talking about you, actually. We went to the coffee shop where I worked" You cracked a smile as you watched his cheeks turn a reddish shade, knowing what you were going to say next, "Do you remember the day we met?"

You heard a noise of protest while you washed your hands and how he tightened his grip on your waist, reluctant to let you go now that you had brought up a memory he considered as shameful as it was lovely.

"I almost killed Hyunjin that day," he whispered, voice somewhat hoarse from having been asleep. "Until Changbin told me to calm down and I read what the coffee cup said, I swear it nearly killed him for exposing myself like that in front of you." You put both hands over your boyfriend's on your belly and smiled when he continued with the sentence he always said, "Luckily the pretty girl at the coffee shop found me cute enough to date me."

"And here we are" you told him, closing your eyes at his warmth and the touch of his lips against your neck, as light as a feather, in an affectionate gesture that was part of your softer moments.

"And here we are" he repeated, uttering it so close to your throat that it felt like an echo of your own words. And I wouldn't trade it for the world, you thought as he guided you to your bed to snuggle together and sleep entangled, just like every night.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ FELIX, NOSE RUB / KISS ❜

That night you had gone to bed a little late. Not that it had been a special day or anything like that, but when you had entered the lobby of the company your boyfriend worked for with the intention of finishing a couple of documents while you were waiting for him, Minho was leaning against one of the walls with his phone. As soon as he looked up from the screen, he approached you with a smile and the intention of asking you how you had been. Of all Felix's group members, Minho was probably the one you got along with the best. At the beginning of your relationship with your boyfriend, when you had only gone on three or four dates, he had been the first Stray Kids member you had met. After spending the afternoon together, you had accompanied Felix to his apartment and Minho had caught you making out in front of the door. Instead of embarrassing Felix or giving you a hard time, he had smiled and invited you in to enjoy some pudding while you introduced yourself.

Hyunjin had always protested and defended that if Minho had adopted you as his protégée was because it was clear that Felix was very much in love with you, and because you shared with your boyfriend the sunshine privileges he had with the whole group. It wasn't until much later that you discovered, thanks to a Twitter thread, that the fact that Minho had shared a pudding with you meant that you were very important to him. And since you didn't understand why, as you barely knew each other, the next day you bought a box of puddings of the same brand he had given you and asked Felix to give it to him on your behalf. Of course, that gesture only enhanced Minho's image of you. Since then you had developed a beautiful friendship of which both you and your boyfriend were very proud.

But due to your work, you had been a couple of weeks with no signs of life. When you arrived, Felix was sleeping, and when you left, it was still some time left until his alarm would buzz. That weekend the chaos was over, and you wanted to make the most of every second by his side. That's why you had gone to pick him up from work unannounced. And that's why Minho was complaining to you that you had abandoned him. By the time Felix showed up, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken in the gym, you had already given Minho a summary of the last few weeks and he had told you how things were going and how his cats were doing. The older idol slyly pulled away when he watched Felix's eyes light up as he registered your presence and ran up to you to wrap you in a hug and shower your face with kisses.

"Hi, YN" greeted Chris behind the little ray of sunshine you held in your arms, "Long time no see."

You returned the smile he had graced you with, although without dimples, and replied "Work held me kind of hostage."

That made the leader let out a laugh, and squeezed your arm affectionately.

"Want to go to dinner? My treat?"

Felix asked you with a look, fearing that you would accept out of good nature, even if you didn't feel like it, but you stroked the back of his neck to reassure him.

"No problem" you said, smiling. "I'd appreciate a good distraction right now."

"Are we expecting someone else, hyung?" asked Felix, intertwining your hand with his.

"I think I.N mentioned he would be joining later, but the rest of the boys are in our dorm."

The walk to the restaurant was loud and lively, like every time Felix was involved in something, and for a moment you allowed yourself to take in the atmosphere around you. You knew you were a little quiet, and that it wasn't very like you, but you also knew that your boyfriend had commented on how exhausted you were, so you hoped you weren't worrying anyone. The autumn weather was making you sensitive, that was all. Seeing how the light was darker than usual, the trees slowly becoming naked, and the noise the leaves made under your feet when you stepped on them. You loved how cold your face became after a simple walk, compared to the warmth of your body under the layers of coats you had put on it before leaving home. And most of all you loved the mischievous smile Felix would put on when he would take your hand unexpectedly and put it in his coat pocket, trying to give you some heat, just like he was doing at that moment.

He made a surprised face when you made eye contact with him and you let out a soft laugh, clinging to him and whispering an innocent "I love you" in his ear.

The place Chris had led you to was quiet but cozy, and you got the feeling that the owners already knew the boys. Minho was the one who was in charge of choosing what you were going to have for dinner, and between bottles of soju and water, and delicious pieces of grilled meat you enjoyed a time full of laughter and anecdotes. You asked Chris to send you the location of the restaurant later, planning to meet up with your friends sometime in the following week, and decided to wait a bit until I.N. arrived, who entered in a hurry and almost out of breath. Dinner was fun, as it always was when you spent time with Stray Kids, and you were even sad to say goodbye when Felix realized what time it was and announced that he wanted to have you all to himself for the rest of the night.

You left the place still with your fingers intertwined, and decided to walk back to your apartment. There was a light breeze blowing that blew your hair all over, and you laughed when you saw that the same thing had happened to Felix. You tried to comb his hair a little with your free hand, but it was a bit difficult because you were wearing gloves. It didn't matter anyway, because the moment you managed to get the strands out of his face, the wind would undo your work. It was when it started to rain that you started to run like teenagers, while passers-by took the opportunity to find shelter in nearby places. When you got home you were soaked, and you shivered up the stairs. You ran to get blankets and towels, discarding your coats and clothes until you were in your underwear, and when you made sure you both had dry hair, you huddled on the couch under as many blankets as you had, trying to get warm.

With Felix you never needed to have big conversations, although there had been nights when you had gone to sleep in the middle of the night because you had started to ramble on about whatever topic either of you had proposed. It wasn't the first time your boyfriend had said that for him actions were more important than words, so you spent as much time as possible showing him through actions how much you loved him and how much he deserved that love. You knew he didn't expect the night to end this way, and that he thanked you for it.

"Thank you for being the way you are, Lixie" you murmured, sitting up slightly in his arms so you could watch his face.

"Thank you for always being there for me" he replied, looking up at you with a whole universe of stars compressed in his beautiful eyes.

"Rough day?"

"It got better as soon as I saw you together with Minho hyung."

You both smiled, bringing your foreheads together and gently rubbing each other's nose against the other's in a comforting way. This was, without a doubt, your favorite part of any of the four seasons.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ SEUNGMIN, CHEEK KISS ❜

You'd been staying at your boyfriend's dorm for a couple of days, living with him and his three other group members. While they went to work, you were trying to catch up on your college notes from the comfort of the couch, still feeling too sick to attend class and with a stabbing pain in your belly every time the paracetamol stopped working, clear consequences of having missed the bus on a rainy day, walking home soaking wet, and the effects of your period.

Seungmin's manager had advised him not to get too close to you while you were ill, but he, far from listening to him, had simply asked his members if they cared, and upon their refusal had invited you to spend a few days with him in order to observe how your cold was progressing, making sure how you were feeling every second of the day and taking care of you as you deserved. And you, feeling so lonely in your apartment, had not hesitated to pack the essentials in a backpack and ask your brother to take you there.

That afternoon, however, you were alone in the dorm, as usual. Your nerves were eating you alive because a friend of yours had told you that one of your professors was going to upload, through your university's application, the results of your last exam. You had spent weeks preparing for that test, and for the activity that had to be presented on the day of the exam, and your boyfriend had helped you with both. You wanted to get a very good grade to make Seungmin proud of your effort and his own.

But when you opened the message, and saw that you had failed with one of the lowest grades in the class, you froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to react. "The teacher must have made a mistake with another student," you said, out loud, still in disbelief, "It's not possible that all that... I can't have gotten this after all the effort we put in." But after emailing your professor, his response was, if anything, even more hopeless. He told you that he too was surprised by your result, and that he was very disappointed with how you had evolved in the subject.

You threw your phone across the couch and burst into tears, your heart compressed, feeling that nothing you were doing was enough, that it was useless. Eventually the sobs stopped, though you continued to hide under the covers, staring blankly and breathing heavily. And that's how Felix found you when he came home, tired, at six o'clock in the evening, with a shopping bag in each hand, his backpack and an eternal smile on his lips that vanished when he entered the living room and saw that you didn't give it back to him.

As he noticed your figure curled up on the couch and how you were, surrounded by blankets, with teary eyes and remnants of tears on your cheeks, he didn't hesitate to drop everything on the floor and sit next to you, hugging you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked you, stroking your back comfortingly.

"A bad grade," you explained, between sobs, trying to steady your voice, "Where is everyone?"

"You mean Seungmin, I suppose," he said, and your shy apologetic smile made him continue, "Today he was supposed to record the cover he was preparing, I think he's going to be late."

You stood silently, staring at nothing for a moment, and then wiped away your tears, faking a minimally cheerful face to downplay the situation, and sitting up on the couch, putting the blanket aside.

"It's okay, work is work," you told him, resting your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "Do you want me to help you with those bags, what did you buy?"

Felix's eyes lit up again, still slightly reluctant to move you away from your corner on the couch, but he flashed a smile and told you the latest story that happened between Changbin and Hyunjin, guiding you to the kitchen. You helped him place everything he had bought at the supermarket while he made sure that, for a few minutes, you forgot what had made you so sad. He suggested making brownies to take to practice the next day, and just as he was preparing the ingredients on the counter, you offered to play one of your Spotify playlists. You ended up jokingly discussing some of the songs, and decided to make a playlist from scratch just for when he went into baking mode. He even managed to make you laugh.

And then I.N. and Minho arrived, and while the latter prepared dinner, the former monopolized Felix's attention with questions about the last videogame they had played together with your boyfriend. So you ended up sitting back on the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, rocking as you listened to the youngsters chatting and laughing, with Minho occasionally joining the conversation. And you kept wondering what exactly you were doing there. Living momentarily with those wonderful boys who didn't deserve to have you invading their space, who came home exhausted and didn't need to take care of you if Seungmin wasn't around. They weren't supposed to have that responsibility. God, even Seungmin shouldn't have proposed you to spend a few days with them. You were just acting like a parasite in their house, and they didn't deserve it. When was the last time you paid for something? You were not contributing at all.

With your eyes misty with tears you got up in a hurry, grabbed the keys to your own apartment, where you should have stayed from the beginning, and left. You went downstairs as fast as you could, putting as much distance as you could between you and the dorm, between you and the guys. You had nowhere to go either, really. You didn't feel like going back to your apartment yet, your friends were studying for their last exams, like you should be doing, and you had left your phone on the couch, with your laptop and your notes. God, you hadn't even been able to do that right. You were sure Minho would hate you when he walked into the living room and saw that everything was dirty and full of your stuff. As lucky as you were, you had probably even forgot to throw away the tissues you had used to fight your cold.

You began to wander around the city, regretting not having thought things through before running away, because the temperature had begun to drop with the arrival of night, and you were only wearing your sweatpants and Seungmin's hoddie over them. The painkiller was wearing off, intensifying your abdominal pain, and to top it off, you were really hungry. You ended up accepting the fact that it would be better to go home now. You needed to feed yourself, take a warm shower and get into bed, because after wandering the streets of Seoul, your cold would probably have gotten worse. You got up from the swing where you had decided to stop to rest for a while, and left the park, trying to find the street you were on and the quickest way home.

You felt your hands deathly cold against the fabric of your hoodie, and even colder against the metal of your keys, as you tried to open the door. Each step was an effort, and after you struggled with the lock, you were almost out of breath. Still, as you closed the door you leaned against it and sighed, feeling the weight of your decisions on your shoulders.

"YN?" you heard from the living room.

You frowned as you recognized the voice and hurried to the living room, bumping into your boyfriend halfway.

"Seungmin? What are you doing here?"

He grabbed your arms to steady you both and frowned.

"Why aren't you at home? Felix texted me super worried because when he arrived you were crying on the couch but you didn't want to talk about it with anyone and I finished the recording as soon as possible to..."

"That's not my home" you whispered, unable to hold his gaze.

"What?"

"That's not my home, Seungmin" you repeated, somewhat louder, and sniffled.

"Sure it is" he replied, running his gaze over your features.

"No" you mumbled, whimpering again, noticing how a shiver ran down your back.

"Hey, hey, come on, love, of course it's your home" he told you, softening his voice. "I live there, and you're more than welcome to come over anytime. The boys love you, you know that. And my room and the living room is full of your stuff!"

"That's the problem!"

You let out a sob, and rested your head on his shoulder, unable to continue sharing your thoughts. You felt Seungmin wrap his arms around you, and you took refuge in them, absorbing his warmth.

“Listen, love, we'd better talk about it after a shower, okay? You're burning up, and I'm sure you're hungry."

You nodded, still not looking at him, and let him guide you. Your boyfriend let you curl up under a blanket on the couch while he prepared the bathtub for you. Then he helped you up, carrying you to the bathroom and taking off your clothes. And you trusted him your safety, eyes closed, until you felt your body being submerged in warm water. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling better, and listened as he opened the shampoo bottle, then immediately felt his long fingers massaging your scalp.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," he began, his voice like a lullaby, "because I know it's hard to express certain things. But I think I know how you feel, and let me tell you one thing: you don't bother them, you don't bother us. Just because the boys and I trust each other so much or fit in so well doesn't mean that we don't need you, that we don't miss you when you're not around. Especially me, love. You are my favorite person. I would give everything for you, and that's why if I have a choice, when you are unwell, and even when you are well, I like to come home and see you there. You always greet me with a smile, and you automatically make my day. If you really don't want to be there because you feel uncomfortable, I'll help you bring your things here tomorrow. But if it's because you feel you don't fit in, or because you think you're a burden, believe me we don't see it that way at all. Felix knows you only do playlists with him, every time you ask him for music recommendations, he gets very excited. Minho loves to feed you because he loves the constructive criticism you give him. And he is very grateful when you offer to clean the kitchen for him, because he is very tired lately. And Jeongin trusts very few people to take good photos of him. He almost always posts the ones you take of him. You are important, YN. And you are loved. I love you. You can't imagine how much."

"I love you too" you managed to say, between sobs. At that point, the shampoo was long forgotten, and there was only record of the silence that enveloped you as you both looked into each other's eyes: he with the intensity of the one who intends to communicate with his gaze that which resides in his soul, you with the tears that show that you have opened your heart to his every word, and let them envelop you completely. "Thank you."

Seungmin sighs, sketching a smile of relief, now that he knows you are already feeling somewhat better, and strokes your cheek with his soapy hand. You close your eyes against his velvety, slippery touch, and feel his lips brush your other cheek, in a kiss as light as a butterfly.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ JEONGIN, PECK ❜

It was odd for both of you to argue, or be mad at each other. He was in the stressful period of preparation before a comeback, with enough time to just breathe, and he had found space for you in his last free afternoon, discarding the idea of taking a break to be with you. And as a matter of destiny, just as you were about to sit down on the couch in your apartment to watch your Friday movie, enjoying each other's company, your mother called you.

The thing is, your sister was getting married. The ceremony was coming up soon, and you had confirmed your attendance, of course, but you only said you were bringing a friend –a male friend–, and your mother was curious about whether that boy was a posible boyfriend or not. The problem was that your parents didn't know you had a boyfriend, and you weren’t sure if you wanted them to. You hadn't found the right time to say anything about it, and you didn't have a great relationship with your parents anyway, so it wasn't something you had the need to tell. But obviously you wanted Jeongin to accompany you in such a nice and special moment, so when your mother asked you about who you were going to bring, you simply replied "Mm, all you have to know is that my friend’s name is Jeongin."

You didn't think much of it –not that you knew he was listening, since you had gone back to the kitchen to chat with your mother while he went to the living room– but since then, the maknae's smile faded and he adopted a somewhat absent demeanor for the rest of the evening. You didn't notice it because neither of you were big fans of skinship and you were curled up on one end of the couch under a blanket. He had crossed his arms at the other end, but due to the movie you both were watching was so interesting your eyes were fixed on the screen, absorbing every possible detail in an attempt to try to unravel the ending of the thriller before the story itself revealed it. You bent down often to pick up some candies that you and Jeongin had left on the table after dinner, and when you offered one to your boyfriend and he completely ignored you, you stared at him with a confused look on your face.

"Baby," you murmured, moving slightly closer to him, still holding the small package of Korean sweets, running your gaze over his features, "would you like one of these?"

Jeongin remained silent, eyes focused on the plot unfolding in front of you, and you frowned as you realized that it hadn't been a mistake, it wasn't that he hadn't listened to you, but that he was completely ignoring you. You decided to play for a while longer, just to assess how serious the situation was, and sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. You swung your legs up, placing them in his lap, and then rested your head on his shoulder, pulling the plastic off the candy and eating it noisily. Suddenly you had lost all interest in the movie. You'd have time to watch it again, some other time. After a few minutes you gave him a sideye glance, but he seemed really focused on refusing any kind of interaction with you.

You sighed, making a ball with the candy wrapper and tried to throw it on the table. Of course, you failed. You decided to change tactics, and posture, and rested all the weight of your body on his legs, trying to make it as uncomfortable as possible for him, but managing to accommodate yourself in such a way that you ended up practically on his lap, with your head resting on his arms. You couldn't deny that it would have been more convenient for you if your boyfriend didn't have his arms crossed, but he seemed to be aware of this fact as well, and tensed them on purpose.

In this silent war, which you had every intention of winning, you had an enemy of great strength. You had tried rolling over him, making noise while eating and making noise with the candy wrappers (so much so that you even felt reluctant to eat candy in the near future because you had had enough of it), you had gotten up, walked past the TV, gone to your room to change into something more provocative and even tried watching tiktoks at full volume. Nothing was working: the only sign of life on I.N's part was his blinking and the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You were beginning to get impatient, and to take it more personally. What was it that you had done that had offended him so much?

"Love" you tried, breaking the silence.

There was no response.

"Jeongin?" you called out to him, resting your hand on his arm, and moving it.

He remained hermetic, and your patience, which had been running out for a while, reached a critical point. You picked up the remote control and stopped the movie, standing in front of the TV with a frown on your face and your arms just as crossed as his were.

"What's your problem?"

"I was watching the movie" he looked up to look you in the eye, with that fox gaze that characterized him so much. The thing was, this time he hadn't softened it, as he did every time he saw you, but it was still as sharp as a dagger, as if you were just strangers in a bar.

"I don't care about the movie" you replied, trying to decipher the source of his behavior, "What's wrong with you?"

Jeongin looked away, and mumbled something between his teeth that you failed to understand.

"What?"

"Go ask your 'friend Jeongin', I'm sure he knows. That’s what I said"

You kept silent, trying to puzzle out his words, until you remembered the phrase you had used in the previous phone call, when your mother had once again tried to use her charms to pressure you into revealing the identity of your male friend. And you smiled. You hid the curve of your lips almost immediately, because if your boyfriend had reacted that way it was because it had really affected him, and you didn't want him to misundertand your reaction. You straddled his lap and, with great effort, got him to uncross his arms and put them around your waist.

"Do you want to know who the caller was?" you asked him, using a gentle tone, resting your hands on his shoulders and massaging that area, trying to help him stop tensing his body.

He nodded, finally looking you in the eye, sulking, which made you pout.

"Ever since my sister invited us to her wedding and I told her that I would be bringing a date, my mother has taken it for granted that I have a boyfriend and wants to meet you, to know who you are" you began, sighing at your mother's behavior, "Knowing her, she'll direct all the attention my sister deserves towards me, just because I've gotten a date. And I don't want to ruin my sister's day over a silly thing. I told her you were my friend because I know she will insist me on asking you out, but only when she’s alone with me. That way there won't be any public comments with unknown intentions. I'm not ashamed of you, my love, and I'm really sorry if it gave you that feeling."

Now you did let out a chuckle as you noticed the blush that had been spreading across your boyfriend's cheeks and ears as you spoke. He covered his cheeks with his hands, and you pressed your forehead to his lovingly, still giggling slightly, loving his reaction. You rested your hands on his and leaned in to bring your lips together in a chaste kiss. And then you had an idea.

"W-what are you doing?" your boyfriend inquired, watching as you managed to reach your cell phone on the other end of the couch.

You put your index finger to his lips as you unlocked the phone, shushing him, and searching for your sister's contact. You sent her a short message making sure she had a moment for you, while your boyfriend admired your face of absolute concentration, still wondering what you were up to. Then you smiled as you read your sister's reply, and hit the video call icon instantly.

"YN! How's everything over there?"

Jeongin's eyes went wide as he recognized the voice, and he looked at you with a panicked gesture, tensing up underneath you.

"Hello, sis! I wanted to tell you something about the wedding" you announced, triumphantly.

"Oh, no," she protested, pouting, "Mom's being a pain again? I'm terribly sorry, I warned her not to be like that, but she's just so excited."

"It does have to do with mom, but it's nothing bad, don't worry" you told her, alternating your gaze between the screen and your boyfriend. "Remember when I confirmed attendance?"

"Mm-hm," he nodded, thinking about the answer, "two people and no allergies, right?"

"Right" you affirmed, noticing how your boyfriend anticipated your intentions and cringed. "I told you and mom I was going to bring my friend Jeongin."

"Wait- you're not bringing your friend after all? You're bringing a boyfriend!" she accused you, excitedly.

"More or less, yeah haha. Jeongin is my boyfriend, actually. We've been together for almost a year, and we've been living together for a few months now. I wanted someone to know it there, but mom can't find out."

"Phew, you're telling me. We wouldn't hear the end of it in our lifetime" she concurred. "And tell me, do you have your Romeo around? Or can I gossip how do you two..."

"He's here!" you hurriedly announced, cutting your sister off in the middle of her sentence, a sentence whose end you didn't even want to hear, and moved until you were sitting shoulder to shoulder with him again, making him appear in the video call too. "Jeongin, this is my sister. Sis, Jeongin, my boyfriend."

"Hi, noona," he said to her, still embarrassed, but with his trademark bright smile shining on his face.

"Hi, Jeongin!" she replied, with the energy she had always had. "I have to go now, but I hope I can see you before the wedding. Although if we can't, I hope you guys have a great time!!"

You hung up, and looked at your boyfriend with a smile on your lips, teasing him a little at how tense he had been the entire call.

"You had nothing to worry about, I wasn't going to make a fool of you."

Jeongin rolled his eyes and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You love to make a fool of me."

You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, noticing how your heart shrank at the truth you had just discovered: you were very much in love with this boy. And, knowing that this whole situation had happened because of your sister's wedding, you obviated the thought that at some point in the future, you didn't know when, you would be more than willing to marry him.

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ghostlywhiskey · 8 months

Text

John Price - Hell on Earth - Part 1

Pairing: Lawyer!John Price x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,427 Warnings: None Summary: Your a paralegal at a law firm and John Price is a top attorney - but makes everyone's life a living hell. And it only gets worse when he decides to make you his primary paralegal. Notes: Going based of this prompt/blurb I wrote. There will 100% be more parts - you think I'm gonna have lawyer!price and not have smut at some point? Absolutely not. Also let the record show, I did not proofread teehee<3 ▸read part two here ▸find my masterlist here

The phone sat snug between your ear and shoulder as the contents of your bag were shifted around with one hand, the other holding a coffee. Where is the damn keycard? Your thoughts block out whatever Morgan was saying on the other end of the phone. As you push through the revolving door, the keycard finds a spot between your fingers as you say good morning to the guard and head for the elevator.

“Morgan.” The name coming out of you is rather monotone as you try to grab your friend's attention from her ongoing rant. “Morgan, take a breath would you?” Eyes looking at the lights above the elevators to make note of which one you would be getting into.

“I can’t take a breath! Who goes on five dates with someone and just poof! Hey, I don’t want a relationship?” her voice belted through the phone loud enough that you would think your phone had the speaker option selected. The sudden exclamation in her voice causes you to pull the phone from your ear, eyes glancing to see multiple emails come in from Price about various different cases that had been transferred to you in the past three weeks.

“Son of a bitch.” you mutter as you stand in the elevator, scrolling through twenty new emails, all delivered at 8AM. He fucking prepared them to be auto-sent. Is he fucking kidding?

“Hey, are you there?” Morgan’s voice echoes through the phone, quickly putting it to your ear.

“Sorry, work is already chaotic. Can I call you later? Or maybe drinks after work?” voice apologetic, but your anxiety is already focusing on what needs to get done for the day.

As you push through the doors of the firm, ‘good mornings’ are thrown around from your coworkers as you make your way to your cubicle. The door to his office is wide open, the lack of yelling and aggressive taps on the keyboard nowhere to be heard - He isn’t in yet, thank fuck.

Your bag drops onto the desk along with your coffee next to it, body dropping into the chair as you stare at the black screen. Eight hours to go. Hand grasping the mouse, you give it a shake as the dual monitors come to life and type your login quickly. The inbox rapidly catches up to what your phone already knows - 127 messages. Twenty of them are Price’s alone from this morning.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: K. Laswell - Deposition of Our Client

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

What is the status of getting the deposition set up? Why is no one agreeing? Call them and get answers. Tired of the emails flooding my inbox.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: S. Riley - Motion to Compel Discovery

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

Prepare the exhibits for A to H. They are in the file under the exhibits folder for the motion. Want it filed today - discovery has been outstanding for over a year. No more good faith letters.

I want to see the final version before it is filed.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: J. McTavish - Search Case Law

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

I don’t have time to look into this today - find me relevant cases that can be applied to the file. Preferably by tomorrow morning, get as specific as you can. Opposition is due 3 weeks from now and I’d rather not be stressing about it when it is due the week before the motion. Any questions, ask Mary. Thanks.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: K. Garrick - CASE DISMISSED

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning Patrick,

No need to apologize, I hope the family is well. Glad we were able to resolve this.

Looping my paralegal in. She will provide you the document signed on behalf of me and have it to you by the end of the day.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

“I hope the family is well.” the mumble from your lips is a mocking one, as if that prick ever wishes anyone well. God forbid he ever wrote thank you instead while signing off on an email. The few emails are just the start of the tasks for the day. Happy Monday.

One more email catches your eye before you go to start from the bottom of where you left off the other day answering people. One email not sent exactly at 8 AM.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:02 AM

Subject: Meeting about cases

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Morning,

When I’m in the office later we need to discuss more cases you are getting reassigned to. Let me know when you are free today. I’ll be in around 12 after court.

John

Get Outlook for IOS

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

And by the time the clock hits 12, you’ve barely made it through half of the emails. Completely zoning out as you chew on a pen cap, you scroll through the case law your searching for one of Price’s tasks - saving various memorandums into the file and your own notes on a word document. The sound of your desktop messenger goes off, the paralegal chat receiving a message from the firm secretary: Price is in.

Another paralegal, Ava, quickly sent a reply: Prayers up. Headphones in before the yelling in his office starts.

Fingers quickly typing your own response, you send yours: Fingers crossed today’s the day I can get fired and just collect unemployment instead.

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, closing the chat before Price would make his way to his office by your desk. Better off he didn’t see the alerts of his presence or everyones personal feelings about him. The sound of his shoes clicking against the floor caused your head to peek over your desktop setup, his phone already held up to his ear as he angrily spoke on the phone.

“Well, the judge doesn’t know his fucking ass from his elbow.” his eyes glanced over at you as he walked by, his hand holding up five fingers as he mouthed ‘five minutes’ to you.

So, you didn’t do anything for the next five minutes besides watch the clock on your computer. By the time four minutes hit, you stood up from the desk and stood outside his closed door. And right as five minutes hit, the door swung open and his breath caught in his throat as he was prepared to shout your name but saw you standing right there.

“Glad to see you can count.” he opted to say instead, turning to walk back towards his desk. “Door shut.” You nodded at his demand, closing the door and walking to stand at the front of his desk.

“Is the Laswell deposition set up?” he asked.

“Calendered for January 18th.”

“Exhibits on Riley…finished?” Another question as he scrolled through his emails.

“Prepared for your review.” The response leaving your lips quickly. “Document signed on Garrick. Still working on the case law for McTavish. And anything else you emailed me about.” You decided to finish off responses to any more questions he might have. He glanced up from his laptop, nodding.

“So, that leaves us with case reassignments.” Price stated and you simply nodded to acknowledge his comment. “Any file that Kelsey had with me is getting reassigned to you.” You knew Kelsey, she was a capable paralegal, she was Price’s go-to paralegal. Well, heavy emphasis on the ‘was’. She had quit the other week. Rumors spread, but the consensus seemed to be that Price might have driven her to a mental break.

Your brain did the math quickly - that would leave you hitting around over 250 files altogether. And before you could voice your concern, Price spoke again. “You’ll become my primary paralegal. Any case you have with another attorney is going to get reassigned to someone else.” Slight relief washed over you. At least that knocked your case load down a bit, but that still left you under Price’s reign of terror. Reporting to him about everything.

How soon am I gonna have a mental break? Your brain echoed, but again, you just nodded in response to what he just said. “Have you lost your voice?” He raised a brow. Quickly you shook your head ‘no’.

“No, sir. Understood. I’ll draft memos on any file I have getting transferred to someone else so they know the status.” You spoke, looking down at him as he sat at his desk.

“Good, get back to work.” was all he said, nodding towards his door. And with that, you hurriedly exited his office before he could mention anything else.

Once you sat down at your desk, you opened the paralegal chat.

Guess who is the new Kelsey :))

The hours this day seemed to drag. And for what felt like the hundredth time that day, your eyes glanced at the clock.

7:03 PM.

You let out a frustrated sigh, keeping it quiet. Anything you wanted to actually get done today for the most part didn’t, as you were handling forest fire after forest fire that Price would email about. But at this rate, you felt defeated. Not even a full 24 hours as his designated paralegal and you were one step away from a mental break of your own.

Price was long gone from the office. Every other paralegal was also gone at this rate, vanishing at 5 PM on the dot. The only other presence was the office cleaning lady who came in everyday. She came over to your desk, smiling at you as a greeting before she grabbed your trash can to dump the contents into her larger bin she pushed around. “Isn’t it late, love?” her voice soft and you smiled sadly at her.

“I guess it is.” you said, glancing back at your screen. The lady glanced at your computer screen and then her eyes went to Price’s door, reading his name on the door. And it was like something clicked.

“Oh, does Mr. Price, have you staying late?” she asked, voice laced with pity it sounded like. How did she know? And it was like she read your mind. “That blonde girl….hm, Kelsey!” she exclaimed as she remembered the name. “She was always staying later for that man.” The older lady spoke and you huffed.

“Yeah, Mr. Price.” you mumbled, reaching over to shut your laptop off. There was no way you were doing anything else tonight - besides burying yourself under your bed covers.

“Well, have a good night.” The lady said, walking away as she continued to empty trash cans throughout the office.

And by the time you were home, it felt like a chore to put yourself in the shower. But the water hitting your back acts as a cleanser of any stress of the day. Why was he such a prick? The inflated ego was understandable stemming from the fact he was a successful attorney. But, what was the point of treating everyone around you like shit? If he had a wife, you felt terrible for her. Though you never did notice a wedding ring, honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he took it off when he wasn’t around her. And if he wasn’t married, then you figured he was probably single and alone, because who the fuck would deal with that?

Two Months Later

If hell was on earth, it was right here in this very office. At your desk. Working directly for John Price.

The past two months felt like you were running a treadmill that wouldn’t stop and the only way to get off would be to stop running and just let the damn thing fling you into the wall. At least there was paid overtime, or you genuinely would have been on the next train to the unemployment line. But once again, the clock read 6:30 PM for the third time this week. The music from Price’s office blasting as his door had been shut the past four hours. First the sounds of him screaming on the phone, the next two hours followed by a conference call where you were almost positive you heard another attorney start crying and the past hour had been strictly music. You weren’t sure what to expect from his music taste, but the array of Mötley Crüe, Rolling Stones, Slipknot and a bunch of others you couldn’t even begin to name was driving you to the point of losing your mind.

Your body only jumped slightly in your seat when the door to his office abruptly opened, the music pouring into the rest of the empty office. But your eyes focused on Price as you made note of his appearance. In your months working here, nothing about him was ever disheveled. Every button done, tie aligning perfectly with the buttons on his shirt, his hair gel holding every hair on his head in place. Except right now, he looked like he actually just ran on a treadmill as opposed to you who had just felt like you had been on one. The first two buttons of his shirt undone and his tie sprawled on the desk in his office along with his suit jacket that hung off the back of his own chair. His face was slightly red and the gel in his hair looked like it lost his hold and as if his fingers had run through it.

The way his eyes locked on you made your body tense. It made you feel like you were in the wrong for still being in the office. “You’re still here?” he questioned, slightly caught off guard by your presence.

You hesitated for a minute, fingers on the keyboard coming to a stop as you looked at him. Well obviously I’m still fucking here. And the tiredness of the day hitting you, that you couldn’t help but reply with an attitude. “Well, unless I’m a ghost then yes, I’m still here.” The emphasis on the ‘still’ was strong. But your tone didn’t even seem to strike him like you thought it would, he just cleared his throat and nodded.

“I’m stepping out to grab something for dinner quickly. See you tomorrow if you’re gone by the time I’m back.” was all he left you with as he left the office. His demeanor and lack of response to your attitude caught you off guard as you stared blankly at your screen as he left the office. What the fuck is wrong with him?

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juyeonszn · 8 months

Text

SWEET

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.61k

GENRES fluff ﹒ smut ﹒ minuscule bit of angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, boy next door/neighbor au, reader was in a toxic-ish relationship, juyo is so cute and so sweet, until he’s kinda 😵‍💫 yk?, um kevin and changmin appearances, reader being absolutely irrevocably impossibly down bad for juyeon’s hands, so hand kink lol, making out, vaginal fingering, cum eating…. lol, they get a little sappy at the end

SUMMARY maybe this was for the better. maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor.

MORE i would like to apologize for putting this out a day late… um i was really busy preparing for my enhypen concert so 😭 not a lot of writing was happening since there wasn’t enough brain juice flowing. anyways. ENJOY <3 pls rb if u did! (ALSO THANK U REESE AND @sungbeam FOR BETAING AND EDITING <<<3 i love y’all sm)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your keen sense of hospitality.

You’d been raised as the type of girl to always be welcoming when a new face arrived, to be that guiding light for them as they adjusted to all the changes in their life. When you were little, your mother taught you to introduce yourself first, because you never knew if that person was shy or not. Of course, there was the usual ‘Stranger Danger’ pep talk, but it differed greatly from the new friend pep talk.

The first time you exhibited this wonderful trait of yours was in middle school when the foreign student in your class was forced to stand at the front of the room. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but you could tell he didn’t really enjoy being put on the spot, hands behind his back as he said his name and where he was from.

Kevin Moon. Age 13. Vancouver, Canada.

The only empty desk in the classroom was the one beside yours, and that was the golden opportunity to become best friends with the new kid. As soon as he settled into his seat and class had resumed as normal, you leaned over slightly and cupped a hand over your mouth to whisper loud enough that he could hear.

“Hi! I’m Y/N!”

He gave you a small smile in return and from then on, you and Kevin Moon were the best of friends.

The second time you proved your kindness was your freshman year of college. It was still syllabus week, but your professor had sent out an email over the weekend with papers that needed to be printed and brought to class. The guy next to you didn’t get the memo, freaking out over already messing things up on the first day.

You didn’t know him at all, but you felt bad that he was so stressed. In turn, you decided to rip up your own papers. He looked at you like you were crazy, maybe because you were. What idiot does something like that?

You give him a warm smile. “There. Now we’re both missing it.”

All he can do is laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m Changmin.”

“Y/N.”

After that, Ji Changmin came to be another one of your closest friends. It was kind of silly that something your mother instilled in you at a young age had become such a big part of your life. It brought you people who you’d cherish forever. But it also brought people you wish you’d never met.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Y/N, babe, we can work through this—”

“Are you deaf?” Your tone raises and your feet carry you to the front door, swinging it open. “I said to get out of my apartment.”

“We’ve been together for three years. You’re not gonna fight for us?” He pleads, clasping his hands as he stands in front of you.

“Why would I? Why should I stay with someone who doesn’t value me enough to stay loyal?” You seethe, your anger growing in size the longer you glare at his pathetic face. The face of a man you thought would love you until death did you part.

“She meant nothing to me!” He tries to rationalize with you, but you won’t have any of it. You weren’t stupid and you sure as hell weren’t blind.

“Do you take me as a fucking fool, Daehyun? I’ve known for months that you weren’t ‘working late at the office’. She even DMed me and showed me screenshots of your messages. Now get out before I call the cops.” You’re so pissed off that you don’t even realize you’re crying, fat tears trickling down your hot cheeks.

“After all I’ve done for you and all I’ve given you? You’re gonna act like a bitch?” He drops the innocent boyfriend act, backing you into the doorframe.

“Leave, Daehyun.” You say flatly. You’re not gonna give him the satisfaction of crumbling beneath the weight of his words. You knew the truth, you knew what kind of person he truly was after all this time.

He scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the hook beside him and finally storming out of your apartment. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the sobs that so badly want to escape. You watch as he bumps shoulders with a stranger holding a box, thankfully not looking back at you.

You make eye contact with said stranger, eyes wide like a child who’d just gotten caught with their hands in a cookie jar. His eyes resemble those of your friends’ when you told them you’d found out about your boyfriend’s infidelity. You both stand there for a moment, an impromptu staring contest ensuing.

Quickly, you snap out of your trance, cowering into your apartment. You vaguely remember the elderly woman across the hall mentioning that someone was moving into the unit beside yours. She had never told you a specific date, though. Had you known it was today, you might’ve expedited the dramatic break-up with Daehyun.

How could you possibly introduce yourself to him after he witnessed that? And in your current state; snot-nosed and teary-eyed? There was no way. You’d just have to postpone that for another day. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.

“Was he cute?”

“Kevin, why is that what you’re worried about?” Changmin’s mouth pulls into a thin line, smacking the slightly older male over the back of the head. He winces, caressing the spot to ease the pain.

“I wasn’t really paying attention to that when I had just shoved my cheating ex boyfriend out of my apartment,” you push around the ramyeon on your plate with your chopsticks. “I do feel terrible that he had to see that though. But how can I face him after that?”

Kevin taps his chin with his index finger, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t you bake for him? Welcome him to the complex like the hospitable neighbor you are.”

“That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” Changmin nods, shoveling some rice onto his spoon. The Pisces deadpans and reclines in his chair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, enough bickering you two. I need you to finish eating so I can start planning what to bake.”

The third time you practice your mother’s life lesson, is the next evening when you’re face-to-face with your neighbor’s door.

Your hands have begun to clam up beneath the warm tupperware of cookies you were holding. Were you supposed to just knock on his door like everything was fine and dandy? What if he wasn’t even home? Maybe you should just leave the baked goods with a note and—

The door swings open to reveal the stranger from a few days ago. However, this time he also wears that expression of shock, cat-like eyes widened. Your mouth moves like fish out of water, not sure what you should say or how you should say it. So you don’t think and you just act, extending the tupperware towards him.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m your neighbor,” your speech is a little shaky, but you’re too nervous to focus on that. “I— um— I baked these for you as a housewarming gift to welcome you to the complex. As well as an apology for making you a bystander in my messy breakup.”

His features relax as a smile inches its way onto his face, graciously accepting the treats you made for him. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. And don’t even worry about it, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“N-No, you’re fine, I swear! We shouldn’t have aired our dirty laundry so publicly like that. You did nothing wrong.” You wave your hands as if physically dismissing his words. He lets out a little chuckle that warms your chest.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad that you left the dude. He sounded like a total asshole,” your neighbor tucks the tupperware under his arm, leaning against the threshold of his apartment. “You seem too nice to settle for somebody like that. From what I’ve seen, of course.”

You don’t know why that has your heart skipping a beat like a high school girl. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he really was cute. He had a boyish charm to him, but not so much so that it overpowered how handsome he was. Kevin was going to have a field day with this information.

“Uh, thank you. I should be getting back to my place now. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Have a good night!” You clear your throat to kick yourself out of whatever stupor you were about to fall into, bowing. As you’re turning on your heel to make the ten foot trip to your own apartment, he calls out your name.

“I’m Juyeon, by the way.” He grins, waving as you push open your door.

“Now that is quite the interesting development.” Kevin snorts, helping himself to one of the raspberry filled donuts you’d just finished baking.

“If you keep eating my product, I’m gonna have to kick you out of the kitchen and out of my bakery,” you chide, swatting his hands away from the baker’s rack. “And how is that interesting in the slightest? I literally gave him the cookies, apologized, and that was that.”

“He was literally flirting with you, Y/N. Changmin, tell her I’m right. Apparently I’m no longer a voice of reason here.” He says through a full mouth.

“I mean, yeah? Kinda? Calling a girl nice is usually guy code for ‘I think you’re attractive and I could see myself sleeping with you’,” Changmin shrugs, tearing off a piece of Kevin’s donut. “But I also see where you’re coming from. You did just meet each other. He could’ve just been trying to console you in a way.”

“Why am I even friends with men when they’re useless?” You throw your head back, speaking to no one in particular.

Perhaps Kevin truly was overthinking the situation. Juyeon seemed to be a kind person who probably didn’t want any problems with his neighbors. It made sense why he’d side with you after witnessing your break up. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh to even consider thinking of anyone else in such a way. No matter how hot they may be…

You’d just have to wait and see for yourself. Only time could tell what would become of the nature of your relationship with your cute new neighbor.

You look insane with everything in your cart, filled to the brim with baking ingredients. It was around 10 PM and here you were, at the grocery store buying the things needed to make cinnamon rolls. Being a baker with a bit of a sweet tooth meant your cravings got a little out of hand at times, forcing you to make drastic decisions. (I.E. grocery shopping so late at night.)

Even your clothing choice was silly: flimsy pajama shorts with Care Bears patterned on them, a baggy t-shirt, and matching slippers. It’s not like anyone cared anyway. And it wasn’t like you were trying to impress anybody either.

But as you’re walking towards the registers, you start to regret your outfit. You very quickly spot your neighbor with a basket on his arm, waiting in line for self-checkout. You feel all the color drain from your face as you stand there, staring like an absolute idiot.

He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie swallowing his figure. He looks so effortlessly good, it kind of makes you upset. Because how are you just now meeting a guy who’s both kind and attractive? As far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist in real life— they only existed in fairytales.

Juyeon looks up from his phone and catches your eye, his hand coming up to give you a little wave and one of those crinkly eye smiles that he does when you pass each other in the hall.

As the weeks have passed, you’ve seen him more and more than you deemed normal. You’d bump into each other on the way to or from picking up your mail, you’d hold the elevator for the other in record time, and you’d even leave your apartments at the same time. Now it appears you’re running into the guy at the supermarket, too. You tried to chalk it all up to coincidence, that you just both happened to be thinking on the same wavelength.

But shyly waving back to him right now reminds you that divine intervention had crazy ways of working its magic. Perhaps those had all just been openings for you to engage in something more with your cute neighbor. And there was only one way to find out.

You psych yourself up as you walk towards him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Juyeon’s smile grows wider as he notices you approaching. “Hey, stranger. What are you up to tonight?”

“Some late baking,” you giggle, wanting to punch yourself in the face for sounding like a goddamn school girl. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to come over and keep me company? Totally up to you of course! I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other properly.”

Your suggestion is what leads the two of you to meet back up at your apartment after purchasing your respective groceries. You attempt to tidy up as best you can while you wait for the knock at your door, setting out all the ingredients on the counter and preheating your oven.

The soft knock comes moments later and you find yourself practically running to open the door, grinning at the sheepish expression on Juyeon’s face. You allow him inside of your apartment, trailing after him into the kitchen. Part of you felt like you were moving on too fast after Daehyun. As a baker, your kitchen was your safe space. It was where you went when you needed to be alone and in the comfort of what you knew best. Kevin and Changmin were the only ones you trusted to be within that element. For you to let Juyeon in— to let him permeate the walls you’ve never let down before, not even with your ex— was brand new territory.

“I almost forgot you own a bakery,” Juyeon speaks up, fingers tracing along the stand mixer. “But seeing all this expensive equipment reminded me of that. It only makes sense that someone as sweet as you would constantly be around sweet treats.”

You fail to bite back your smile. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor. He laughs when you nudge his shoulder, grabbing all the dry ingredients for the dough.

“On a scale of one to ten, how patient are you?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you open the flour. The question was in regards to several things.

“I’d say about an eight or nine. Patience is a virtue, you know. It comes easily if you practice hard enough.” He answers, leaning against the counter and watching you.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, searching for your measuring cups. Both you and Juyeon begin to measure out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. You decide to let him take some of the reins, folding in the mixture of milk, egg, butter, and yeast. While he does that, you prepare the cinnamon sugar.

“I think I’m done. What do I do next?” He turns to you, head cocked to the side slightly. You might actually die of cuteness aggression. The duality of man would one day drive you to the brink of insanity.

“Now you just knead it until it’s smooth.” Your back is to him as you say this, putting away any refrigerated items so they don’t go bad. But as you face him again, you wish you hadn’t.

Your eyes zero in on his hands, kneading the dough with careful, nimble fingers. You feel light-headed as you slip into a spell, gawking at how long and slender they are, massaging the dough like an expert. How had you never noticed how big and pretty his hands were?

Maybe baking with Juyeon was a bad idea. You could barely focus on anything but his fingers pressing the under-construction-cinnamon rolls into the counter. Oh how badly you wanted to be that dough— his hands all over you, groping and massaging and kneading and caressing everywhere they could reach.

The veins running up his arms weren’t helping either, instead fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach. You feel your lips part, eyes glossed over with that all too familiar lustful intensity. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to wipe away drool after this.

“Y/N?” Juyeon glances up from the dough, a little taken aback by your reverie. He follows your line of sight, grinning to himself smugly when he realizes what has you so transfixed. He’s finally found your weakness, and he couldn’t wait to dangle it over your head. Patience was a virtue, but perhaps it would be okay for him to dabble with a vice for once.

He pushes out the dough, using his thumbs to spread it into a rectangular shape. He feels his blood pressure rising the darker your eyes get. However, he’s aware that you just recently got out of a relationship. He wants to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. So he won’t take the first step. He has to leave that up to you.

It’s at a certain point that you come to, blinking to force away the dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. You travel your field of vision to his face, where you find him already looking at you. Your cheeks heat up in mortification from being caught red-handed. You were just gawking at the poor guy’s like they were a piece of fresh meat. This was terrible.

You swallow thickly, averting eye contact to grab the bowl of cinnamon sugar. “Uh, we can start forming the rolls now so they can rise. And then— um— and then we can make the glaze.”

The burn of his gaze on your profile has you tripping over your words, cinnamon sugar sprinkling onto the counter space surrounding and the knife almost slipping from your grip when you go to cut the dough. Juyeon catches it for you, wrapping his fingers around yours to guide your movements and keep them steady.

You feel his breath behind your ear, his chest pressed to your back. His hand is so much larger than your own, nearly covering it entirely. He doesn’t make an effort to move either, rolling the dough into swirl shapes along with you. The whole time this is happening, neither of you are saying a word, letting the silence consume you and the air around you.

As the rolls are rising/baking, you set up everything necessary for making the icing. Juyeon watches with hearts in his eyes as you whisk the sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and butter in a separate bowl. He wonders how many other people you let see you in this setting. How many people get to see you do the thing you love so dearly?

“I’d like to visit your bakery sometime, if you wouldn’t mind,” Juyeon suddenly says, resting his elbows on the counter as you taste test the icing. “I wanna try all of the desserts you bake.”

“I’m opening later tomorrow morning actually,” you smile, humming in appreciation when the sweetness of the glaze hits your taste buds. “You can come with me to try the fresh batches before I put them out? I’ll warn you though, I get there at like six.”

“AM?” His eyes practically pop out of their sockets.

“Yes, AM.” You laugh, lightly shoving him backwards.

“I’ll put like ten alarms so I can make sure I’m up in time, then.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tipping his head to the side. The goofy smile on your face remains even after minutes have passed and the two of you are just waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking.

It feels like hours have gone by with the two of you standing there when they’re finally ready. The ding of the oven has you springing into action, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the baking sheet. Juyeon's eyes light up and even though you’d just been losing your mind over how insane he was making you, you find yourself cooing at him.

He laughs as you grab a couple spare icing bags for the cinnamon roll glaze, filling them generously. You hand one over to him and decide to split the rolls evenly, icing one half yourself while he does the other. And for once, you think that tonight might end normally. You think that nothing eventful will happen and you’ll just ice the cinnamon rolls without problems.

But you were wrong, like always.

“Ah, shit—”

You glance up from the roll you were glazing to see what the fuss was about. Juyeon’s icing bag tore somehow, the sticky topping getting all over his hand. Truly, you were no better than a man, with the filthy thoughts inhabiting your brain almost instantaneously.

He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the glaze off the back of his hand and wrapping his lips around his thumb. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sight of your extremely attractive neighbor doing something so sensual without even trying to. You bite your lip, accidentally dropping your own icing bag due to lack of attention.

Juyeon smirks slightly, relishing in the way it takes absolutely nothing to hypnotize you with his hands alone. He really tried to keep himself contained. He really wanted you to extend the first olive branch, but he knows you’re apprehensive. So just this once, he tells himself that it’s okay to initiate, to give you a little push in the right direction.

He takes a step closer to you, caging you against the counter. You stare up at him with wide, doe eyes, as if you were completely innocent despite the naughty images flashing behind them. Juyeon brings his thumb up to your lips, the pad of it still covered in icing.

“Think you could clean this up for me?” He asks, voice low and husky. You could actually combust with that all on its own.

Just like your formal introduction, you don’t give yourself the time to think, and act, instead, running your tongue along the length of his thumb. Juyeon doesn’t restrain the groan in the back of his throat, holding your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

You reciprocate immediately, fisting his hoodie like it was the only thing capable of stabilizing you. Maybe it was, with the way Juyeon’s lips synchronized with yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. You thought the ground would swallow you whole and wake you up from this dream. On what planet did someone like Lee Juyeon like a girl like you?

His hands slide down your body, groping everything in their path desperately before cupping under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. He knocks the baking sheet of cinnamon rolls out of the way, palms rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. You want more, so much more, but you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid to start something you’re not even sure you can emotionally handle.

Juyeon senses your hesitation, detaching from you momentarily. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I understand if you still need time.”

“N-No, I want this— I want you— I'm just… scared.” You breathe, your forehead using his shoulder for support.

“I'm not him, Y/N. I can give you the world if you’d let me. I’d never do what he did to you, that’s a promise.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the crown of your head.

“Okay,” you nod, smiling up at him. “I trust you, Juyeon.”

You reconnect your lips as his fingers slip beneath your pajama shorts, toying with the waistband of your panties. His lips curl up when he feels you squirm, legs parting to make more room for him in the middle of them. You sigh, body shuddering when he drags his knuckle down your clothed slit.

Juyeon hooks his fingers into your shorts and underwear, hauling them down your legs. You place your hands behind you to brace yourself, a shiver trailing your spine when the cool air of your apartment hits your warm core. He groans again at the sight of you bare for him, using two fingers to spread your lower lips.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he swears, his thumb slowly circling your clit.

You whine, tossing your head back as he applies more pressure. Bit by bit, you begin to lose yourself to the pleasure of Juyeon’s gorgeous hands. Soon the stimulation on your clit amplifies when he adds another finger, thrusting it in and out of your entrance. He curls deep inside of you, like he was reaching for something he’d left.

One finger turns to two, and before you know it, Juyeon’s openly finger fucking you on the counter. He leans over your body to keep your lips together, kissing you sloppily while all his focus is on drawing you to the edge. You can almost taste it, your saccharine release in your field of vision now.

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to wind you up and trip you over the edge, but you feel too euphoric to care. You pause in your kiss to look down at his handy work. (No pun intended.) It makes your head feel foggy and your vision blurry to see his deft fingers fucking you open, veins bulging, like he’d done this many times before. Your hooded eyes follow them up his forearms, a whine escaping your lips.

A particular curl of his fingers and circle of his thumb have you clenching around him, creaming like you’d never had an orgasm in your life. He doesn’t slow his assault, bringing you down just to put you back up on that summit once again. The overstimulation has you cumming a second time in a matter of what felt like seconds, whimpers becoming voluminous moans.

Juyeon kisses you softly, gently pulling out his fingers to lick them clean like he did with the cinnamon roll glaze. A choked groan bubbles past your mouth, tossing an arm over your eyes. He laughs, towing you to the edge of the counter.

He brushes some stray hairs out of your face, moving your arm to smile dopily at you. “I hope you know I was being serious about the whole treating you better thing. If you’ll give me the chance.”

“I know. I told you I trust you, remember?” You nip at the inside of your cheek. His eyes crinkle up like they tend to do when he’s smiling so genuinely. It forces the wind out of you, because how could you ever get used to a sight so stunning?

“You’re so cute.” He laughs, kissing all around your face and smushing your cheeks together.

“Juyeon,” you mumble. “I’m half naked…”

“Even better,” he grins, pecking the tip of your nose. “Makes it that much easier to do all of the other things I wanna do to you.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon smut #juyeon x reader #juyeon smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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thesunisatangerine · 8 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part three

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.4k

You woke again nearing midday and, as expected, Ale was nowhere to be found. If it weren’t for the still sensitive marks that she left on your neck and the soreness between your thighs, you would’ve thought it was all a pleasant dream. Something on your nightstand caught your eye as you stretched and when you picked it up, all the remaining doubt shattered.

On the piece of paper was a phone number with a little note that said ‘text me?’ and you couldn’t help the grin that made its way to your lips at the drawn smiley face at the end of it. You picked your phone up, added her to your contacts and sent her a hello-it’s-me text, noted the notification of an email from Derek, and then you got out of bed to get ready for the day.

When you returned to the bedroom from your shower, a message from Ale was waiting for you.

‘Hey, good morning! Listen, as much as I’d love to… have fun with you again, I can’t see you the next few days.’

You laughed at the varying degrees of sad emojis that superseded her text. Then you messaged her back.

‘That’s fine. Just text me when you’re free. And you already know where I am so…’

You abandoned your phone after that in favor of your laptop as you remembered Derek’s email. Upon opening your mail, you found it immediately.

‘Good news. Robert sealed a deal with a client and they want you to follow FC Barcelona in their Liga F campaign this season. We got 5 match passes so far–Robert believes that the client might be inclined to commission for more photos depending on how the club progresses throughout the season.

Find the passes in the attachment as well as the in-depth commission details but in short, apart from the customary team photos, they want photos of the following players prioritised in order: Alexia Putellas, Maria ‘Mapi’ Leon, and Caroline Graham Hansen. I’ll leave the research to you.

On an informal note, the window to decline is still open. As previously discussed, you don’t have to do this. Let me know what you decide as soon as possible.’

You checked the attached files and sure enough, you found the passes for Barcelona’s matches against the following clubs: Real Madrid, Roma, Alhama, Atletico Madrid, and Sporting Huelva. You noted the date for the one against Real Madrid–it was in a couple of days, the same one Ale suggested and a thrill of excitement went down your spine at the thought of possibly seeing her again. Maybe you should message her to let her know that you were going.

You sent a confirmation to Derek before you created a new tab to begin your research. ‘Alexia Putellas’, you typed and hit enter. When the results came back, you stilled.

You blinked.

Then you blinked again.

Of all the places you’d expect to find Ale’s face, a search result about a professional football player was the last thing you could think of. But memories flashed unbidden through your mind: the exclusive night club, Ale’s vague answer about her job, the way her eyes shone whenever you mentioned sports or football, her reflexes, her physique, Ale… Alexia–it all made sense now.

Groaning, you put your face in your hands as your cheeks and ears burnt from the embarrassment that flooded your veins. Oh, how dense could you get! She must’d thought you ignorant for not knowing who she was. Foolish!

But then again… if she didn’t get a kick out of you not knowing, why did she allow the second time to happen? And why promise a third? The thought calmed you down enough to decide not to text Ale–no, Alexia–about this like you’d originally planned especially since you were most likely going to see her at the game anyway.

After another moment to regain your composure for the time being, you proceeded with your research. You clicked on an article, and an article lead to another, which carried you over to a video, and so on. By the end of it, evening had settled and you only managed to discover little. But from what you found out, there was no question to Alexia Putellas’ nascent legacy, both on and off the pitch–an undisputed, modern trailblazer for current and new generations of female athletes. You were gutted to know about her ACL injury though–a quick deviated search made it known to you how serious of an injury it was, especially for an athletic career–and you wondered when she would be able to play again or if she would be playing in the match against Real Madrid. After all, she did say she was going to be there.

You wrapped up your research about Alexia then and you finally moved on to Mapi Leon, then Caroline Graham Hansen. Afterwards, you briefed yourself on the rest of Barcelona Femeni’s 1st Division players as well as the rules of football to come up with a strategy to tackle this task.

A mixture of anxiety and excitement rushed through you as you settled in for the night at the thought of seeing Alexia again now that you know about her identity. You didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into the moment you let her take you to the dance floor but the pull was there from the very beginning. And you decided you were going to see this through to the end.

No. This wasn’t going to change anything at all.

–––

There it was: Estadi Johan Cruyff, home to Barcelona Femeni, stood proud in its blue and red glory.

There was still about an hour and a half left before kickoff but already, people had gathered and started to enter the stadium, you being one of them. Security scanned your press pass as you entered and you were told to head through a different corridor which lead you out to the pitch. Once inside, it was no surprise that the stadium’s interior was no less grand than the outside, the well-tended grass was just a taste to the quality that this place had to offer.

Greeting the other photographers who’d settled in earlier as you walked, you searched for a spot and found it by the space adjacent to the corner flag farthest from the tunnel entrance. There, you placed your duffel bag and your portable stool as you worked to set up your equipment: you double-checked the batteries, attached the right lens to your camera, unwounded your monopod and connected it to your camera.

By the time you looked up, there was already a significant crowd awaiting the players for their warm-ups. You took this chance to take a few shots of the still half-filled stadium, tweaking your settings as you did so and you waited for the players to come out.

About an hour before kickoff, you spied movements inside the tunnel and immediately, your eye was to your viewfinder.

Players from both teams emerged from the tunnel and names popped in your head as you scanned the faces from Barcelona, taking shots of them as they stepped foot on the grass and took off in a jog. There was no sign of Alexia though but you spotted two of your marks on the pitch so you wasted no time to frame them in your camera.

A moment later though, you heard a sudden cheer from the crowd followed by a collective flutter of camera shutters. You lifted your eye from the viewfinder, turned your head to the side and saw that your fellow photographers had their cameras focused to the direction of the tunnel entrance. Your heart quickened. Could it be? And sure enough as you looked to the sidelines, you could make out Alexia’s blonde hair and her unmistakable silhouette. Through your camera’s lens you were able to see her better.

Alexia had on a black leather jacket paired with a top that revealed a strip of skin before the cut of her jeans, finishing her look off with a pair sneakers on and loose blonde hair. She was conversing with her coach, bumping fists and patting the backs of players from both teams who went over to greet her. Then she turned to the stands, waved at their supporters, and she moved close enough for pictures and autographs. She gave one last wave to the fans, shouted an encouraging word to her teammates with a fist in the air, before she headed back into the tunnel. While all of this was happening, you’d framed her through your lens yourself, taking the photos you needed, cheeks warm despite the cooling afternoon air.

Then all the Barcelona players jogged over to the sidelines and huddled, side to side, arm in arm. You took a shot. Not long after that, all of them left the pitch.

The game was about to start.

Alexia wasn’t lying when she said the stadium would get crowded: the stands were filled with blues and reds, flags were flown and waved about, chanted anthems resounded loud and proud in the air–the atmosphere was nothing short of electric.

You’d moved by the sideline close to the tunnel entrance for the beginning of the match along with your fellow photographers so you could capture Barcelona’s starting eleven. When the players came out, they were welcomed by singing and cheers from the crowd. And as they stood there, you took photos of the entire team first before you moved on to focus on Mapi and Caroline.

When the whistle blew and the match began, you were back to your original spot, looking to the stands above the tunnel entrance as you tried to pick Alexia out from the sea of faces through your camera. You managed to a few minutes later, and you found her looking rather pensive: one arm crossed over her chest, the other resting on it as she rubbed her chin with her thumb, eyes focused down at the pitch with her brows slightly creased. It looked like longing to you, a burning desire to return home–to start playing football again. The sight evoked such a feeling in you that you couldn’t help but capture the moment. This shot, however, you were going to keep for yourself.

Now that you knew where Alexia was, following the client’s requisites just got a lot easier. Up until the final whistle, you immersed yourself in your work and the game, focusing more on Mapi and Caroline as they were playing. There were times that allowed you to shift your camera to the stands to where Alexia was and took shots of her, too. By the time you knew it, the game ended and Barcelona won 1-0.

You expected a celebration from Barcelona because they were in their turf after all so you loaded up your camera with a freshly charged battery. The next thing you knew, Alexia was there with the team, hugging and patting them congratulations and her teammates beamed at her, happy to see her there.

Click You took a shot.

The players then began their procession around the stadium, waving at and signing things for their supporters. Through your camera, you saw Mapi signing the shirt of a young girl. Click. Next to her was Caroline, reaching over the barrier to sign a ball, smiling as she talked to the boy holding it. Click.

The procession was near enough that you could hear their banters, growing louder as they approached where you were and the beating of your heart thumped as loud as the chants from the crowd. You congratulated the players as they passed and kept your camera away out of respect. You looked at the end of the line and you met Alexia’s gaze. She was smiling at you while she talked to Irene Paredes beside her and she never took her eyes off you. There was a gleam in them, something akin to mischief and… a challenge? If so, why?

At that you raised an unimpressed brow at her, both a question and a statement. Your reaction seemed to amuse her because her smile turned into a full smirk.

The procession passed but Alexia lagged behind, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Irene who threw Alexia a questioning look. You watched as Alexia waved her off before she began walking your way and you didn’t miss the fluttering of shutters from your fellow photographers’ cameras. Some called Alexia’s name to get her attention but she ignored them, her attention only at you. You barely had enough time to school your features and hide any signs of familiarity before she was standing in front of you.

“Hey, you. You made it here after all.” Alexia said cooly, lips slanted in a half-smile, one hand in a jean pocket.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry, but do I know you?” You asked in an excessively dry tone paired with an raised eyebrow, but you made sure your voice was just loud enough for her to hear. Catching your drift, Alexia laughed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to try and cover it up.

“I suppose not,” she extended a hand towards you, “I’m Alexia, and I’m sorry about… you know.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Alexia. Congratulations on the win, by the way.” You shook her hand, ignored the way her warmth seeped into your skin, and hummed. “You know, you remind me of someone I know. Your resemblance to her is uncanny.”

Alexia nodded as she took her hand back, lips quirked. “I think I know who you’re talking about. I think she also wants to know if she could stop by later tonight?”

Your cheeks warmed and you didn’t fight the smile that made its way to your face. “I did tell her she could whenever she’s free.”

“So, yes?”

“Yes.”

———

You braced your weight against the headboard, forehead over your folded arms, eyes barely open and the erotic sight in front of you did nothing to help the building flood in you. With your thighs bracing her head and from this angle, you could only see Alexia’s closed eyes but you felt her hands roaming and supporting your lower back as her mouth and tongue worked on you.

She was taking her sweet time though, brushing her tongue over your clit lightly, sucking just enough to build up the pleasure but nothing too much to bring you over the edge. You whined because she did it again only with more pressure this time, circling your clit a few times before she moved away again. You were starting to learn that she liked to play; she liked to take her time and get as many reactions from you until she was satisfied, until she’d completely unravelled you.

A particularly cruel swipe of her tongue, accompanied by the obscenely wet sound it made, nearly incited a sob from your lips but the plea you made was nothing short of similar.

“Ale… please…” You panted.

“–my name.”

“Huh?” You whined out, not hearing what Alexia said after a flick from her tongue sent shivers down your spine.

“Say my name.”

Then she circled your clit with more urgency after she said that–demanding. You keened and ignored her, canting your hips forward to chase that delicious friction you were desperately searching for.

“Ale… Ale… please!”

Then she stilled completely and you cried out in protest, eyes flying open to meet lidded hazel ones.

“What–”

“Say my name.” She licked your inner thigh deliberately close to where you wanted it the most.

“Alexia, pl–” You didn’t even need to beg because right after her name left your mouth, overwhelming heat was all you could feel as she ate you out earnestly. Her hands gripped your thighs so tight that you wouldn’t be able to pull away–not that you could ever do such a thing.

“Oh, fuck!”

Euphoria tore through your body in concurrent waves with brutal intensity that it ripped the strength from your bones while your muscles shook helplessly. Even the gentle touches from Alexia tongue as she cleaned you up were enough to make you hiss from overstimulation.

God… she really did a number on you this time.

After you finally calmed down, you shifted so that you could lay by Alexia’s side, kissing your way up from the column of her neck to her lips where you found your taste heavy on her tongue. You dragged your fingers from the crest of her hip to her breast, feeling the ridges of her hard-earned muscles as you did so and revelled in the way they tensed beneath your touch, the softness of her breast a beautiful contrast to the firmness of her stomach.

Alexia gasped when you rolled her nipple between your fingers and you gladly swallowed it as you deepened the kiss. You slotted your leg to apply pressure between her thighs, ample wetness coated your skin and you couldn’t help but moan at her arousal.

You nipped a path down between the valley of her breasts but not before you had given both of her nipples the attention they deserved. You continued your journey, licking and nipping at her skin as you moved down her toned stomach.

As soon as you reached her navel, she parted her legs to make space for you. You kissed her inner thighs, loving the way they tensed beneath your lips and as you trailed closer to her core, you flashed your gaze upwards to meet hers. When you finally got the first taste of her tonight, you watched intently through lidded eyes as she closed hers, dropping her head on the pillow and sighed out a long, low moan.

You gave her a few slow and broad strokes, closing your eyes as you savoured her taste. When she began to urge her hips quicker, you picked up your pace all the while mapping her thighs and stomach with your palms.

You found you liked how responsive she was to your touches, liked the way she demanded for more which you gladly gave to her as she asked for them. And when she cradled the back of your head and buried her fingers in your hair so she could meet your tongue the way she wanted it, you moaned loudly, taking from the way she took hers from you.

“Yes, right there, just–” Her back arched and you clung to her hips like a lifeline. You rolled your tongue against her and sucked, not wanting to disrupt the pace of her fall.

And fall, she did.

She came on your tongue and you accepted it with a grateful moan, slowing down your pace as she came back down from her high. It was sticky and heady, a reward that you lapped up eagerly, and from the pleased way Alexia threaded her fingers through your hair, she was satisfied. Like her, you took your time cleaning her up because after all it was only polite to do so and you enjoyed the way her leg muscle tensed when you kissed her clit one last time.

Content with your work, you kissed the top of her left thigh as a form of gratitude but instead of making your way up, you traced the line of muscle that lead down to her knee where scars from her injury had carved themselves permanently into her skin.

You’d kissed those same scars the last time you were together without knowing the story behind them and now that you know, you dragged your lips over them ever more softly, looking Alexia in the eye as you did so. She watched you intently with lips slightly parted, eyes dark and lidded.

Alexia bent forward so she could reach out to you, lifting your chin with a gentle hand. Then she brushed her thumb over your upper lip to wipe the wetness there but before she could pull it away, you parted your lips and took her thumb into you mouth, sucking and licking off the taste there, never taking your eyes off hers.

“My god,” came her breathless murmur before she moaned out, “come here.”

Then she guided you to her mouth with her gentle grip on your chin and before you knew it, you were under her again, sighing in grateful surrender to the mercy of her and her hands. She kissed and ravaged you many times over–and you, her–that by the end of the night, you’d completely forgotten the weight of her name.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: a bit late but i finally finished it omfg #ngl i rushed this so im extra sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes...#and how do people write smut its so bloody difficult ahhhhhh #hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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