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notafunkiller · 4 months

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tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 7 months

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First Kiss

Mostly fluffy stuff with the best boys. Probably PG-13 at worst.

LA Shanks X FemReader, LA Sanji X FemReader, LA Zoro X FemReader, LA Mihawk X FemReader.

First time doing the whole headcannon bullet format thing. I'm super open to suggestions for more!

Shanks

• He and his crew came into your tavern a few hours ago. They're a pretty rowdy bunch but they're respectful and they tip well, so you don't mind.

• He's a huge flirt the whole time. Crooked little grins, his hand brushing yours whenever you bring him abother drink.

• Calling you "princess" or "sweetheart" and asking when your shift ends.

• Leaning his chair back on two legs so he can get a good look at your ass while you're making your rounds.

• Sweet-talking you into joining him for a few drinks when your shift is over.

• Getting bolder when you decide to flirt back, light touches at your waist and hips, leaning in closer to speak in a more intimate tone.

• Pulls you down by the arm to sit on his lap when you get off work and come back to his table.

• His fingers in your hair and his palm cupping your cheek to pull your face down to his so your foreheads touch.

• Another one of his crooked little grins. "Glad I could talk you into it, princess."

• No hesitation, just rubs the tips of your noses together before his lips brush yours playfully.

• Brief, playful kisses, with soft bites and tugging at your bottom lip, his tongue flicking at your top lip and coxing you to open your mouth.

• Soft little purr or murmur when the kiss gets deeper, his tongue swirling around yours.

• Breaking away very briefly to praise you in a low, playful voice, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Mmm, good girl..."

• Lets you set the pace, but keeps control over everything else.

• No concern at all that you're in public, his hand exploring your body, slipping under your skirt to squeeze your ass and pull you closer, so your legs are straddling his.

• Pushing his hips up against yours, parting his lips from yours with a devilish grin. "We're gonna have a lot of fun tonight, sweetheart."

Sanji

• You asked him for cooking lessons as an excuse to get closer to him and he positively jumped at the opportunity.

• "I promise you're in good hands, my dear."

• Stands behind you to demonstrate cutting techniques, his voice low and intimate in your ear as he leans over you.

• Brushes your hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your neck.

• Pulls your hand up to brush his lips to it before helping you grip the knife properly.

• You didn't object to him kissing your hand, so now his lips brush your neck just below your ear.

• "You didn’t just want cooking lessons, did you?"

• Low and playful voice in your ear, pulling the knife away from your hand and lacing his fingers through yours.

• Touching your waist and pulling you gently back against him to close the distance between your bodies.

• Lifting his hand to curl it under your chin, his thumb brushing slow cirles at your cheek as he turns your head to gaze into your eyes.

• Flashes his most charming smile, his forehead touching yours.

• "All you had to do was ask, darling."

• Presses his lips gently to yours, taking the lead.

• Slow and romantic, like he's savoring every second of tasting you.

• Rubbing his hands up and down your waist slowly, breathing deeply and steadily and tugging you closer.

• Hands exploring your body, his touches and caresses gentle and loving, one hand cupping your breast through your shirt and squeezing it lightly.

• Moaning quietly against your lips in response to your moan.

• Parting his lips away with a charming smile.

• "You, my love, have just made me the happiest man in the entirety of the East Blue."

• Spins you around by your hips, lifts you up and places you on the counter beside his cutting board, your thighs spread around him as his lips meet yours again in a deeper, more passionate kiss.

Zoro

• For a few weeks you've noticed him looking your way when he thinks you're not paying attention, but he hasn't said much of anything.

• You get tasked with waking him up from his nap at dinner time, which you don't really like doing because he can get pretty grumpy about it.

• When you reach the hammock, he cracks one eye open. You tell him that dinner is ready.

• Rubbing at his eyes. "Uh-huh...."

• Tucks a hand behind his neck, his eyes scanning over you for a moment.

• Suddenly wraps a hand around your wrist and pulls you up into the hammock with him, on top of him, startling you immensely.

• Keeps a hand tucked behind his neck, his other moving to cup your chin and pull your head down.

• Smirking a little. "I think I'll just skip to dessert."

• Tilts his head a little to capture your lips.

• Leads you into a slow, lazy kiss, his hand trailing down your back...and then back up, pushing under your shirt to graze across your bare skin.

• His rough calloused fingers and palms break you out almost immediately into goosebumps.

• Not shy about cutting straight to the chase, tugging your shirt off and tossing it aside.

• Leaves your lips to trail kisses down the column of your throat, hands moving up your waist, his fingers curling around the cups of your bra.

• A knock the door breaks your lips apart—Luffy shouting at the other side that dinner's on.

• Rolls his eyes and shouts back, "I'll eat later!"

• Looks up at you, his expression lightening into an amused grin.

• "What about you, (y/n)? You gonna go now?"

• When you shake your head no, he chuckles, his grin growing broader.

• "Yeah, I didn't think so. Now..."

• Suddenly, and with ease, he grips your hip and your waist and flips you onto your back in the hammock, reversing your positions.

• Lays one of his hands flat over your stomach, the other trailing his fingers down the side of your neck, pulling your bra strap down your shoulder.

• "Where were we?"

• And his lips crush against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.

Mihawk

• It's been over a month since he took you under his wing, and the sexual tension between you is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

• But he won't make a damned move, just keeps teasing at it with subtle soft touches, low and intimate words, shared gazes of desire.

• Just today when you and him made port a few hours ago, he stopped you on the docks before you went your separate ways to resupply.

• Moved in close, his yellow eyes boring into yours with their usual intensity, lowered his head until his forehead touched yours.

• Curled a hand in your hair and murmured with his lips barely an inch away from yours:

• "Be careful, my little bird."

• Dropped his gaze briefly to your lips.

• Brushed his thumb gently over your bottom lip...and then parted from you, disappearing down the crowded street.

• He is driving you absolutely insane and you aren't going to be able to hold out much longer before you just throw yourself at him.

• After resupplying you make your way toward the tavern where you agreed to meet...but you're caught from behind by your arms, a pair of strong hands wrapped around them and pulling you down a dark, empty alley.

• You're shoved against a stone wall and turned around...to face Mihawk, his hands still wrapped around your arms.

• He bores his gaze into yours again.

• Doesn't loosen his grip on your arms.

• "You aren't being vigilant. Anyone could have grabbed you."

• Takes a step closer, your bodies nearly touching.

• Lowers his head, his lips so close they brush across yours as he speaks in a low, intimate tone.

• "I'd rather not lose you, little one."

• Holds your gaze with his own for what feels like hours.

• Trails his fingers down your arms slowly, sending a shiver through your whole body.

• Lets his hands linger at your hips.

• Tightens his grip suddenly, taking a swift step forward so your body is pinned between his and the wall completely.

• In the same motion, tilts his head and crushes his lips against yours in a bruising, passionate kiss.

• Finally.

• His kiss is firm and unyeilding, slow and intense, and he has you trembling against the wall in an instant.

• Parts your lips with his tongue, sighing slowly as you meet it with your own.

• Grabs your hands and pins them over your head in a show of pure dominance—your pleasure is completely at his whim.

• Drifts his lips across your cheek and your neck, his breath hot against your ear.

• "We will stay in town tonight. I want you in bed with me before sundown."

• Chuckles lightly when you can do nothing but nod fervently.

• "Such a good little bird."

• Kisses your neck, sucking at the tender skin and leaving behind a small bruise.

• He brushes his lips to the mark once more.

• "In case it wasn’t already clear that you belong to me."

#opla #dracule mihawk #shanks #roronoa zoro #sanji #sanji one piece #zoro one piece #mihawk one piece #shanks one piece #shanks x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #headcannons #fluff #fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons

6K notes · View notes

yeonzzzn · 1 month

Note

Jake (your roommate) who has oral fixation who can't help but want to suck on your nipples and clit anytime and anywhere he wants (in school, in his car, in cafes, in your dorm). And as the helpful roommate, you try to wear clothes that would give him easy access all the time.

-🪻 hiiii i misseddd putting req here 🥹🫶

hi again🪻anon🥰 i’ve missed your reqs🥹🫶🏻 oral fixation jake has me weeeaaaaakkkk😮‍💨 I kinda went off the deep end with this one. I couldn’t help myself. this request is so *chefs kiss* and bless kay for helping me with the title for this 🤭😘💍

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taste of you: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.9k

For as long as you’ve known your roommate, he’s always had an oral fixation even before he became your roommate too.

You and Jake attended the same college. You would always pass him in the hallways on Mondays and Wednesdays and have Chemistry with him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Man always had something in his mouth to chew on.

Gum, the ends of his pens and pencils, the bottle cap to his water bottle, straws from his drinks, the plastic spoons, knives, and forks from lunch, the strings to his hoodie, the plastic on his cup if he didn’t have a straw, and hell, even his fingers if there wasn’t anything else. You could tell just from staring at him across the lecture hall that he had this fixation.

Fate brought the two of you together when you posted an ad on the campus bulletin board about looking for a roommate after your old one moved out. Jake was the first to respond to the ad, and since you already knew him, you disregarded the other applications. Jake was moved in within a week.

His oral fixation was a lot worse than you thought and was tame while on campus. Jake had the same normal habits on the things he chewed but added a few things: his shirt while sitting on the couch watching TV or playing on the PlayStation. The cord to his headset when he played on his PC in his bedroom. The cord to his phone while it charged and he was scrolling through social media. Your fingers, lips, tongue, nipples, and clit.

Crazy, right? It didn’t start that way, his mouth on your body parts. It wasn’t a thought in either of your minds until you came home one afternoon after work and took a shower, not bothering to put a bra on afterward, letting the girls have some time to breathe. So you walked around in your shorts and oversized tee shirt. Jake returned home a couple of hours later from soccer practice, wanting nothing more than a nice shower and a good meal. So you told him to shower and that you’d cook for him. Jake couldn’t hide the smile had, being so happy and lucky you were his roommate.

Jake didn’t even notice you weren’t wearing a bra until you stood from where you sat on the couch, your nipples poking through your white shirt. The hoodie string Jake had in his mouth fell out as his eyes were glued to your chest, watching how grazed your shirt as you walked around the couch and towards the kitchen. Jake quickly jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. Splashing his face with the water of his shower, trying to push the thoughts of your perfect nipples being in his mouth. The way he would bite, lick, and suck on them.

Jake had to lean his body against the cool of the tile wall to get his body temperature down but failed miserably as his thoughts continued to run in his brain. Thinking about the ways your cunt would ride his cock as his mouth worked on your tits. Before Jake knew it his hand was wrapped around his hard cock, biting his lips to keep from moaning as he pumped himself til his cum was dripping down his hand. Jake prayed and prayed that once he was out of the shower you could have put on a bra. Because it’s an asshole move to think about your roommate like that, right? It crosses your boundaries and that’s the last thing Jake wanted to do.

But to his dismay, you still stood in the kitchen…braless. Once you noticed he was out of the shower, you called him over, “Jae, I made pasta for dinner and this cake for dessert. Come try the icing and tell me what you think?”

Jake swallowed, knees weak as he slowly walked over to you. Your long hair was now pulled into a loose ponytail and oh man was it driving Jake up a wall. His eyes wandered everywhere, to your nipples, your earlobes, and the cute spot between your shoulder and neck. His mouth watered as he looked back and forth, wanting to pin you to the kitchen counter and place his mouth all over those parts. His dick was hardening and he was doing everything to try and keep you from noticing.

You got a spoon from the drawer and scooped up some of the icing and held it to his mouth, “Say ahh!” you said cutely, taking notice of the small pink tint on his cheeks as he slowly opened his mouth taking the spoon in.

Jake’s eyes widened as you pulled the spoon away, “Goddamn, YN, this is fantastic!” Jake loved your cooking and baking. It made him even more excited to eat the pasta and have a dessert to look forward to.

You noticed some of the icing was on the edge of his lips, you giggled softly and reached up, “You’re so messy,” you teased him, taking your index finger and sliding it across the edge of his lip.

The moment you touched him it was over. The feeling of your finger on his lips even if it was just the slightest touch sent him into a frenzy, his mouth was opening, head tilting to the side to wrap his lips around your finger, his tongue licking up the icing you wiped away and then sucking on it. His eyes closed tightly as he softly grazed your finger with his teeth. Jake didn’t know what came over him, but the moment he realized what he was doing his eyes shot back open and connected to yours.

You weren’t surprised and showed no sign that it bothered you that he was currently sucking on your finger. Instead, you gave him a small smile, inching your middle finger to his lips. Jake was the surprised one but opened his mouth anyway, letting you slip your middle in with your index.

You always teased Jake about his oral fixation, always giving him some type of hell for chewing up specific things. Like the amount of phone chargers you’ve had to rebuy him, and the amount of headsets Jake had to get replaced from chewing on the cords. The amount of gum packets that lay around the apartment just for him. You found it cute to tease him. And you never knew you wanted your fingers in his mouth until right now. Which is why it didn’t bother you. Honestly, your fingers were better than the cords and other plastic things that would eventually ruin his pretty teeth anyway.

You’d be lying if it didn’t turn you on. Jake was hoping for it, truly. Keeping eye contact with you as he wraps his tongue around your fingers, sucking on them and biting them softly. If you continued to let him chew on your fingers, he was going to lose all control.

“I know you want to do more than just suck on my fingers,” you whispered to him. You already knew he was hard as a rock and your panties were soaking, “Why don’t you take what you actually want?”

Jake didn’t hesitate to pull your fingers from his mouth, his lips attaching to yours and sucking on your bottom lip as his hands slid to your thighs, picked you up, and set you down on the countertop, biting hard on your lip, “Give me your tongue,” he hisses between his grip on your lip and only let go once he saw the muscle slide out of your mouth and taking it in his. Jake was in pure bliss getting his oral fixation off on something other than random small items. His cock twitched hard at it too. It was everything he could have wanted.

As he continued to suck and bite your tongue, his hands slipped under your shirt and slid up, his hands stopping at your tits to rub at your nipples, making them perk up more. You knew Jake was preparing them for his mouth, his skin sending a chill down your spine and goosebumps on your skin, hardening your nipples even more, “fffuuuccckkkk,” he hisses after releasing your tongue from his mouth, dipping down in the same movement of lifting your shirt over your breasts and attaching his mouth to your right nipple as his left hand continued to pinch at your other nipple.

You moaned his name and gripped his shoulders as his tongue flicked your nipple, as his teeth bit down on the sensitive nub and lips wrapped around it to suck. He moved back and forth between the two, not leaving one out. You already knew your cunt was soaking the countertop and you think Jake knew too. Mostly by the way his hands moved to cup your ass and slide underneath you. He let out a groan against your nipple before removing his mouth and scooped you up, quickly turning in the other direction and laying you down on top of the kitchen table. He kissed you again, sucking your bottom lip back into his mouth in the same motion of his fingers looping between your shorts and panties to pull them down.

Jake sank to his knees as your shorts and panties hit the floor, him spreading your legs wide to give him better access to your cunt. His mouth watered at the sight of your sopping pussy, your slit dripping out your hole and onto the table. Fuck it was making him dizzy.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he breathes, sticking his tongue out to lick up your hole to your clit, stopping there to take the bud between his teeth and lips. Jake sucked, licked, and bit your clit until you came into his mouth. He didn’t even stop there, no no. He wanted you. Wanted his shower fantasy to come true. So he pulls you from the table and onto the floor with him, quickly removing his sweatpants and boxers and moving you into his lap.

You rode him as his mouth worked on your nipples again, moving between them both and stopping every few minutes to kiss you and suck on your lips. You even shoved your fingers into his mouth a few times as you fucked him. This kept going until you came again and he was cumming deep into your pussy.

It was safe to say you both would have a major mess to clean up in the kitchen. And even have to reheat the pasta.

This was only the start of Jake using you to get his oral fixation in. You gave him full permission to use you as he pleases to get his fix. Jake would be stupid to turn it down.

It benefited both of you, truly. You both had the benefits of this new agreement. He would get his oral fixation and other sexual needs met, you’d also get your sexual needs met on top of saving money from having to replace the items he’d normally chew on.

The only terms were he could only have your fingers and lips in public, but could have everything else in the safe space of your shared apartment, or either of your cars, or if no one else was around.

Again, Jake would be an idiot to turn it down.

He forced you to move to the back of the classroom room with him so he could suck on your fingers during lectures without anyone noticing and anytime he wanted.

You’d sit in his car with him during lunch or before his soccer practice so he could make out with you and get his mouth on your tits.

Then at the apartment? He’d spread your legs.

One of Jake’s requirements was you having to wear specific clothing for him to have easy access to while at the apartment. Loose tee shirts with no bra. Any type of shorts or sweatpants or skirts with no panties underneath.

It truly was a dream come true for Jake. The best roommate he could ask for. This whole dynamic worked for the two of you. Both parties were getting pleasure and their needs met while maintaining a good friendship with each other. It was perfect. So completely perfect.

Your favorite thing was when Jake would return home from his other classes or work and immediately sink down to his knees in front of you saying, “I need your cunt in my mouth right now,” or lifting your shirt off your body instantly and saying, “I need your tits against my tongue.” Or your personal favorite thing he’d say is, “I need you on my cock as I suck on those pretty tits of yours.”

Again, so so so perfect. Yet…

…when it came to matters of your heart, you started to love him. You had your suspicions on whether you were actually gaining feelings or if it was just the sex and the way he’d work his mouth on your body that was making you confused. But your feelings became apparent and so clear to you when one day you lay on the couch, scrolling through TikTok to watch the latest trends when Jake stumbled into the living room. He had a hard time at practice that Saturday morning, beating himself up over not making the winning score during the practice match against another team. Jake slid himself under your arms and just laid his head against your chest and got himself comfy on top of you, making no moves to undress you to get his fix. “I just needed to be close to you right now,” was all he said as he snuggled his face into your breasts and slid his arms underneath you, squeezing you tightly to him. He wasn’t horny or anything, just genuinely wanted to be with you. It took everything to keep your heart from fluttering. From it completely busting out of your chest as he slowly fell asleep on top of you. You were done for. You loved him.

And oh god did Jake fall so hard in love with you too. How could he not? You accepted his oral fixation and even let him get his fix by using your body. Yeah at first it was strictly to get his fix in, the sex just being a bonus, but the more time that passed, the more he fell. He would get so drunk of your scent as he worked his mouth and cock on and in your body. You became his every waking thought and not just in ways to get his oral fixation needs met. He wanted to spend time with you. Take you on dates. Show you off to his friends. Yeah, having a roommate who gave into his oral fixation was such a hard flex. But to call you his girlfriend who also gives into his oral fixation, was an even bigger hard flex. Jake knew he loved you when all he wanted was to be in your arms after his terrible practice that morning.

It took a week later for him to confess.

His cock was buried so deep in your cunt, his mouth biting and sucking on your ear lobe as you screamed out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It was as good of a time as any, Jake thought, what better way to confess his love for you while being balls deep inside you?

“Be mine,” he moans into your ear, detaching his mouth from your lobe and lifting you up from the couch in a swift motion, rolling the two of you into a sitting position with you in his lap. Jake bites at your skin between your neck and shoulders, his hands shoving you down onto him to press his cock even further into your cunt, “be mine, please,” he says between each suck, kiss, and bite at your skin.

You couldn’t believe you heard the words escape his mouth, not knowing if you heard him clearly or not, “What?”

Jake released your skin with a pop, his hands moving to your tits, squeezing them together and giving them a lift up, licking your nipples then biting them softly, “I am in love with you, I can’t stand not actually getting to call you mine,” he sucks one nipple into his mouth, bucking his hips up into you, being so lost in the taste of you, “Be mine. Be my girlfriend.”

Your fingers tangled into his hair as you bounced on his cock, throwing your head back, “Yes,” you moan, “Yes, Jae, yes. I love you too. I’m in love with you too.”

Jake quickly switches the positions again, pressing your body against the coffee table by the couch, fucking into you with everything he had. He kissed you with so much love and want and need. Being so happy he could finally call you his. You finally being more than just his roommate/fuck buddy that gave into his oral fixation.

He bites down on your bottom lip and pulls it as he comes undone, his hips snapping to a stop to press his cock against your cervix hard, his cum filling you whole.

Jake releases your lip and smiles down at you, his eyes wandering to every part of your body he had his mouth on, loving the way his teeth marks look on you. On his girlfriend. Thank god you ended up being such a good roommate.

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— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity

#yeonzzzn asks #— 🪻anon #jake bby #sim jake #sim jaeyun #sim jake smut #jake x reader #reader x jake #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #yeonzzzn writing

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hoseoksluna · 2 months

Text

SOJU | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)

genre: heavy angst, heavy smut

word count: 10.4k

summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine

warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny

note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩

side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.

Jungkook will always be a man of his word.

It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.

He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.

It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.

Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.

Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.

A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.

He hates people.

Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.

His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.

He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.

He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.

Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.

He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.

The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.

He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.

You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.

He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.

To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.

It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.

He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it.

Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube.

He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.

So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.

That’s another promise, too.

He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.

“Can you stop?”

Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.

“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”

He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”

You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it.

He doesn’t think you could.

He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts.

Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it.

You don’t say anything.

When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately.

“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery.

He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly.

Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head.

Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting.

“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.”

He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.

You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.

Promise. There it is again.

He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.

Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.

“You don’t want a blowie?”

Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.

Decides he will provoke you right back.

“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”

You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.

Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”

You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.

He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.

You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.

Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…

The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.

A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view.

Hobi.

The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air.

“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back.

Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you.

Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery.

A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.

Jungkook sees red.

His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage.

The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.

He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way.

The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.

Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one.

The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.

But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.

For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.

You slip out of his grasp and move past him.

There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.

Nothing.

***

Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you.

Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched.

It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead.

“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip.

Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.”

He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.

You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel.

His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.

He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name.

You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.

He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room.

“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.”

You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin.

The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else.

Jungkook figures it’s his turn.

“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add.

Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away.

“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.”

Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all.

“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands.

There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.

He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”

Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely.

“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again.

His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.

“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.”

He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness.

Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.”

Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, you nod.

After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled.

The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light.

Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty.

“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”

The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot.

“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.”

You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—

You mumble something into his skin.

His heart jumps.

“I didn’t catch that, baby.”

You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.”

Your words tell him a lot of things.

He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home.

And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are.

He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it.

“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.”

He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters.

Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.”

You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes.

“Make me forget about tonight, please.”

He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you.

“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling.

You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb.

It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can.

“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.”

“Let’s go.”

Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay.

The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night.

***

“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.”

Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit.

You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body.

“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care.

“I once had a toner that—”

Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you.

You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you.

“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”

He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles.

“I know you can, but let me.”

You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.”

He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit.

The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity.

You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy.

“Oh my god.”

Serves you fucking right.

“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.”

It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?”

You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.”

Does so himself.

He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.

You rouse it him and he just listens.

His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.

He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires.

Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes.

A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.

Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked.

Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes.

He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over.

Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside.

“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.”

You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more.

“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.”

Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.

Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.

You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten.

He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough.

You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.

Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.

You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette.

The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine.

Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.”

He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—

He devours you.

You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…

“Fuck yourself on my tongue.”

He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before.

His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates.

Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty.

Wants you to get used to it.

You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching.

He aches—aches badly to be inside of you.

Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance.

When he penetrates you there, you scream.

You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again.

He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do.

You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want.

“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”

You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm.

You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.

When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”

Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same.

Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart.

You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now.

Tears well up in his eyes.

“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy.

He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is.

There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out.

It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.

He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it.

“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in.

“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”

You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted.

Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled.

A dream come true. A desire gratified.

You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you.

You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much.

“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.

“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?”

The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair.

“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.”

A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.”

He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”

He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore.

He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.

An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?”

“Fast.”

Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?”

You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.”

It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes.

One person. One mind, one heart.

Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good.

Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—

“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”

Butterflies.

Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you.

Gives you all of his cock.

He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you.

“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?”

Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy.

And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?”

The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it.

He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs.

“No, feels good.”

“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?”

You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair.

Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe.

“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.”

You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too.

It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead.

He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off.

He pounds into you.

You’re no longer smiling.

Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard.

Merciless.

He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.

But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—

You’re gone.

Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you.

Who is he to say no to you?

“You just want it bad, don’t you?”

You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him.

“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.”

The air grows dense.

“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”

His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has.

He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned.

His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum.

He will make it up to you tomorrow morning.

Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you.

He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—

“You tired, baby?”

You sound just like him.

Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down.

“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”

He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in.

With a barrier in between.

You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.

In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—

“I love you.”

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

Baking blind, deaf and mute | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N participates in the Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute video, but things don't go as planned.

Warning: Begin of a panic attack, anxiety.

Requested?: Yes, @ecliphttlunar

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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"Alright guys, it's been almost a year since the last time we filmed one of these, I think..." Nick began, his body appearing in the camera frame, stopping next to Matt.

"Yeah, and today we have a special guest-" Matt was interrupted by Nick, who swallowed all the rest of his energy drink, stumbling back as he shook his head hard, feeling the burn go down his throat.

"Like she doesn't appear in almost every video." Chris ignored Nick's reaction, momentarily pointing to his girlfriend next to him.

A laugh escaped his throat, followed by a dramatic sound of pain as he received a slap from Y/N as a response, who rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms and looking at the camera.

"They love me more than they love you guys at this point." She murmured, pointing at the camera with her chin, blowing an air kiss towards it.

"Anyways!" Nick shouted, casting a scolding glance from the corner of his eye at Chris and Y/N, focusing his eyes on the lens. "Today we're going to do the baking blind, deaf and mute challenge, and we have a guest with us, Y/N!" He raised his left hand, pointing it towards the girl momentarily, who smiled big and waved.

"Exactly, and since there will be four of us, instead of three, we will repeat one position. Y/N will be blind with Matt, while I will be mute and Nick will be deaf." Chris explained, wrapping his left arm around his girl's shoulder, pulling her close and massaging her biceps slightly, sealing his lips over her head momentarily.

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"Okay, today we're going to cook a carrot cake with chocolate frosting since it's our guest's favorite." Nick spoke, his voice coming out louder than normal since his ears were covered by the headphones where music was coming out at full volume.

Y/N nodded, resting her hands on the table, unable to see exactly where she was, her eyes already covered by Chris's red bandana.

"Y/N doesn't eat ready cake mixture, so we're going to make it from scratch!" Matt added, his back resting on the counter next to the stove.

His arms were crossed, and his head was turned in the direction he thought the camera was.

"Let's begin!"

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"Can someone preheat the oven, please?" Y/N asked, her head turned to the side where she heard footsteps.

A tired sigh escaped her nose when she received no response. The girl moved slowly, using her raised arms for support, feeling wherever she went.

Sudden hands on her waist made her jump in fright, relief coursing through her veins as she quickly recognized Chris's touch. The boy holds her tightly, guiding her slowly through the kitchen, until they reach the stove.

Chris lightly held her wrist, guiding her hand to the button to turn on the oven, waiting for her to do so before letting go of her hand, moving away slightly.

"What is happening? Are you still here?" Matt's voice cut through the air, his figure doing a 360° turn as he tried to understand where the others were.

"In here, Matt." Y/N replied as she walked back to the table, feeling around until she found the ingredients already separated.

The girl reached for the carrots, feeling them to check if they were peeled. They weren't.

"Chris, can you peel it for me, please?" The girl asked loudly, lifting her chin in the air so her voice could echo better.

Footsteps approached, and soon, the carrots were taken from her hands, the sound of a knife hitting the cutting board filling her ears.

The sound of screams filled the kitchen, Nick singing the songs he was listening to as loud as possible, probably dancing around the space, checking every now and then if the others were making the recipe correctly, despite Y/N and Chris knowing it by heart.

"Nick, can you shut up?" Matt asked loudly, turning in the direction where his brother's voice came from.

Nick noticed Matt trying to talk to him, looking back while furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"What?" He screamed.

Y/N, who was blindly measuring the correct amount of oil using a measuring cup, jumped in place in fright by the sudden loud sound. Her hand holding the oil shook slightly from the movement, spilling some of the contents onto her other hand and the table.

Her shoulders slumped, but she just kept going, knowing that there was nothing she could do at that moment other than fulfill her task.

After measuring the oil and flour as correctly as possible, the girl felt the table on her right side in search of the cut carrots, no longer feeling Chris' presence there.

Her hands ran across the wooden surface, grabbing the first thing she found in the belief that it was the vegetables, but instead, it was a knife.

A wince escaped her lips, feeling a sharp burning sensation spread from her right index finger to her hand. She had cut herself.

"Can I have a paper towel?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her voice coming out choppy from the pain she felt. "Hey, somebody, a paper towel. Please?"

No one answered her, Matt and Nick's arguing voices only growing louder and louder.

The girl took a deep breath, wiping her finger on her t-shirt, feeling pain and disgust at the same time at the thought of cleaning a wound on a fabric that wasn't as clean as something specific for hygiene.

Her attention returned to the things in front of herself. Y/N replayed her last steps in her mind, making sure she did everything right.

With that, her hand rescued the fuê that she knew was on her left side and began to mix all the ingredients in the ceramic bowl carefully, despite the pain in her hand.

She felt her senses were more heightened than normal, perhaps because her eyes were covered, which made her hear the different steps of each of the triplets, their voices, and in which direction they were going.

But at that moment, her attention was so focused on the mixture that she forgot to pay attention to the three boys.

"Matt, I'm not listening to anything you're saying!" Nick shouted, his tone full of sarcasm.

"I'm just asking you to stop-"

"Don't touch me, Chris!"

"Nick, stop doing that-"

"Stop talking, I can't hear you-"

The impact came suddenly against Y/N's back, causing her to hit her belly on the corner of the table and, consequently, pushing the mixture forward due to the impact. She was certain that everything had been spilled onto the wooden surface when she heard a loud gasp coming from Matt.

Y/N's lips trembled before the tears even came. She felt her eyes burning behind her bandana while her cheeks and chest ached with anguish.

"Y/N?" Chris's voice came out softly, his hands quickly ripping the bandana from his mouth, approaching his girl, ignoring the guilty looks from Nick and Matt as they both removed their respective bandana and headphones.

Y/N didn't respond, resting her hands on the table and lowering her head, feeling the fabric over her eyes getting damp little by little.

"Baby?" Chris whispered, slowly untying the knot on the bandana behind her head, being careful not to pull out any hair. The last thing he wanted was to cause pain on his girlfriend.

He felt his heart sink at the sight of her eyes closed tightly and her eyelashes damp against her pink cheeks. His own eyes quickly caught her chest rising and falling faster than normal in agitation.

Chris moved closer to her, positioning his hands on both of his girl's hips, lightly squeezing the covered skin in an attempt to ground her.

"Hey, hey, pretty girl, it's okay. Deep breaths, hm?" The brunette whispered close to her ear, casting a quick look behind his shoulder at his brothers, silently asking them to move away. "That's right, just like that. You got it, my love."

Y/N sucked in air through her nose, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it through her mouth.

After repeating the process a few times, she could finally feel her heart calm down and the anguish slowly disappear. Y/N opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times to remove the remnants of tears.

"There's my pretty girl. Are you with me, baby?" Chris smiled kindly, his eyes shining as he looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer.

"Uhum, I am good. Thank you, baby." Her voice came out still a whisper, but in a healthier tone. "Can we continue? I really want to-"

"Wait, is that blood? Baby, are you hurt?" Chris noticed the reddish tone on her right hand, interrupting her sentence and holding her hand delicately with both of his, analyzing the small cut.

"Yeah, with that knife. It was an accident, but it's not hurting anymore." The girl tried to assure him, stroking his hands with her thumb slowly.

"Can we at least clean it? Before we continue." He asked, his tone full of hope while his eyes run through her face, trying to find any trace of pain.

"Okay." Y/N nodded, whispering with a small smile decorating her face.

The boy guided her to the sink, turning on the tap to cold water and slowly bringing her hand closer to the jet, letting the water hit the injured skin slowly, so that it didn't make her feel any more pain.

A wince escaped Y/N's throat when she felt the contact, suppressing the urge to pull her hand back.

"I know, baby. I know, I'm sorry." Chris whispered, his lips pressed against the side of her head. His free hand made small circles on her back, trying to reflect calm to her.

After a few seconds, Chris finally turned off the tap again, drying his own hand before rescuing a few sheets of paper towels. He wiped Y/N's sensitive skin slowly, wrapping her finger around a clean sheet.

"All done, honey."

"Thank you." She smiled, sealing her lips on his jaw slightly. "Can we bake now?" She asked innocently, looking at Matt and Nick, who were still watching them with guilty eyes.

Chris let out a low chuckle at her comment, waving his brothers closer again.

"Are you good, girl?" Nick asked as he approached Y/N, stroking her left shoulder lightly, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I am good, Nick. I promise." She smiled big at her best friend, hugging him sideways and laying her head on his right shoulder for a few seconds before stepping away again.

"Okay then, let's bake a cake!" Matt smiled at the camera, grabbing the nearest roll of paper towels, ready to clean up the mess before they could start baking again.

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Extra - comments:

"omg I would die on Y/N's place, all this was so overwhelming 😭"

"chris is such a good boyfriend and you can see it in here, the way he helps her at the beginning? bf goals 😫😫😫"

"chris and Y/N are so beautiful together 🥺"

"the way chris was super worried about Y/N so he ripped off his bandana too quickly to help her 😔😔😔"

"I want what they have so bad"

"nick and matt feeling guilty and then worrying about her was so cute!!"

"them baking it from the beginning again only because Y/N wanted to eat that cake is so thoughtful 😭"

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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sunniskyies · 3 months

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𝐁𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your boyfriend Percy has been at camp all summer, and you’re anxious that he’s moved on since you last saw him 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff with a dash of pining and a sprinkle of fluff !! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k 𝐀/𝐍: Take a wild guess who the woman is (>ᴗ•) ♡

You're picking at your fingers again, a nervous habit Percy always scolds you for. Your hoodie —his hoodie— is soaked through with rain, the weather turned bad now the summer is over.

You've been sitting at the bus stop for hours now, and resorted to pacing to calm your anxious thoughts. It's late now, 9 pm on a Friday. The only other person here is a beautiful woman who has failed to board a single bus in the hour she's been sitting there.

You're on your 467th lap of the ground between two pavement tiles when the woman speaks up.

"What ails you, my darling?" She asks from her perch beneath the narrow lip of the bus stop.

You glance over, hesitant for a second. Is this one of the monsters Percy has talked about? She definitely seems suspicious.

"I'm just nervous to see someone I haven't seen in a while," you say cautiously. The woman delicately raises an eyebrow.

"A boy," you clarify. "My boyfriend."

A smile lights up the woman's face, revealing perfect teeth from behind her soft pink lips. "That's what I thought!" She says, adjusting her floral dress over her knees when a single drop of water hits her ivory skin. She grimaces.

"Please sit in the dry, sweetie. I'll comb out your hair while you tell me everything."

You hesitate again, not wanting Percy's first job after camp to be saving you from a monster. But something in the woman's eyes calls to be trusted. And besides, your hair is a damp, scraggly mess. Do you really want Percy to see you like this?

Of course the gorgeous woman has a literal gold comb in the Prada bag she's stashed beneath the bench, and begins running the fine teeth through your hair when you sit down beside her.

"So? Why are you so troubled?" She prompts after a beat.

You sigh, shifting on the seat. "Well, he's been away all summer at— er, a camp. And, well, I dunno. I guess I'm just worried he's moved on from me," you mumble.

You glance over your shoulder as if seeking approval from the pretty woman. But instead of seeing the blonde ringletted, pale-skinned lady who sat there before, a stunning tan woman (who can only be described as a supermodel) has replaced her.

"Wait— Did you— Weren't you..?" You stammer, eyes wide. The woman just smiles, gently shushing you.

"No, dear. It's just the lighting," she replies.

You want to argue, jump up and run away. But something about her fingers on your hair soothes you like a mother does a baby. You find yourself relaxing, all worries erased.

"So why would he move on from you? You seem very lovely to me, dear. And so pretty," she continues.

You sigh again. "Well, there's this girl. She's gorgeous, I've seen Polaroids." You think back to the scrapbook Percy had shown you last year, a beautiful girl named Annabeth with blonde curls and sun-kissed skin.

"They're like, best friends," you deflate. "And he's really talented, and she is too. I'm just some boring girl from the city he met years ago. He's sure to move on to someone like her. Isn't he?" You fret, looking back at the woman again.

The woman —who now sports luscious auburn curls and crystalline eyes— gives you another sweet, motherly smile.

"No, dear. If I know anything about love," she chuckles, "is that it is not easily swayed by beauty or talent. Love is built on something deeper."

You spin around to face her, drinking in her words. "But what if he has found someone better?" you whisper.

The woman sets the comb aside and clasps your hands with hers, her gaze locked with yours. "My dear, there will always be other people who come and go in our lives. But true love is irreplaceable. If Percy truly loves you, he will see you uniquely and fully— as you."

You nod understandingly, and it’s only later that evening that you realise you had never told her Percy’s name.

Suddenly, your intent gaze is pulled away by the sound of an approaching vehicle, and you watch as a shoddy public bus pulls into the stop with a 'splash' and a 'thunk' as it disturbs a large rain-filled pothole.

Through the window seeping warm light into the dark evening, you can make out the silhouette of a dark-haired boy. He stands from his seat and starts walking down the alley.

"That's him!" You squeak, turning back to the lady to point him out.

But the spot beside you is empty, cold and unoccupied as if she was never there.

But you don't have time to wonder because the doors of the bus are beginning to open. You stand up quickly, the nerves returning to your body.

"Trust me," you swear a woman's voice whispers in your ear, but you're distracted by Percy stepping off the bus and rushing over to you.

He sweeps you off your feet, spinning you around and around till you giggle for him to stop. He sets you down gently, green eyes dilated and sickly sweet when they meet yours.

"I missed you so much!" He says, voice filled with genuine affection, and you feel every shred of doubt leave your body.

You laugh, still dizzy. "Percy! I missed you too!"

You finally get to kiss him, and he kisses you back eagerly. He doesn't seem to care about being soaked out here in the rain, every inch of him turned to you with rapt attention.

When you pull away, Percy reaches up to brush a wet strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice brimming with adoration. "I missed this face."

You lean into him, settling into the arm he wraps around you as you begin to walk back to his place. "How was camp? I got your letters— how many people did you kill?" You ask, holding one of his bags with a spare arm.

He laughs, beginning from the start of this year's adventure. You stare up at him attentively as he talks, taking in every detail. He's right, you've missed this face.

As the two of you walk away, you can't help but look back to the bus stop once more, wondering if the woman had been a figment of your imagination.

There, on the seat, lies a gold comb.

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #one shot #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction

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silkythewriter · 3 months

Text

Angel on fire

Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle. (Part 1)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel

Author note: I JUST WANNA WORK ON SOMETHING FOR MYSELF BEFORE JUMPING BACK TO DOING REQUESTS ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

“You should've seen the way she looked, igual que un ángel

Heaven's her residence y ella no se va a caer

They just can't reach her, princesita inalcanzable“

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

The air was heavy almost unbreathable, how the demons lived like this was dancing around in your mind. It was so much different in hell then in heaven, there was so much… malice but that’s to be expected you supposed.

But you choose to continue walking, in your disguise of course, the out rage there would be if one of heavens top angels were in hell would be quite the mess to say the least. But you had to risk it, if charlie was right, if souls truly could be redeemed…maybe…just maybe, you’d be able to see him once more.

Finally you reached the hotel doors, and with one last stride stood right were the door knob was. Your nerves were going array to say the least, you knew what this rebellion could cost you. But it was for him, it always was, wasn’t it?, you quickly snapped out of you mind as you took a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting anxiously. A creek rang out in your ears as the door opened, coming face to face with the princess of hell herself. She looked at you with confusion before quickly turning it into excitement as she bounced around quickly grabbing your arm and letting you in as she shut the door in a hurry.

“I’m so glad you made it!” She squealed. Leaving you surprise after the rough hearing in heaven she had just a day ago. “I’m glad I made it aswell, it took much more then I was expecting but I’m glad no one seemed to notice!” You said gracefully as you could. “Have you made sure everyone’s away?” You asked in hushed tone, she quickly nodded as she explained “yes I have!, though it cost a bit but Cherri took them out for a bit!” She said nervously playing with her hair “although this time I said to stray away from clubs…” she said with a heavy sigh. You placed your hand on her shoulder comforting as you began to speak “I’m sure we’ll figure something out!” You said with a sure smile. Making her regain hers as she agreed “yea! Your right, okay, let’s do this!” She said as her hands turned in to fist to pump herself up.

“So, what was your idea?”

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

“So! What do you think?, I know it sounds a bit crazy but!-“ you quickly cut her off “it isn’t crazy Charlie! It just needs some work…” you smiled softly at the girl making her look back at her board covered in strings and notes. “Yea.. I know..” she said pacing “look, I know I said I have connections with adam.. but it’s gonna take some time to convince him.. especially if you and I wanna not make it look suspicious” you said pondering what your next move should be.

“I know but even for that one day in heaven I could tell he has some favoritism for you!” Charlie exclaimed “yes but-“ you inquired before she cut you off “look, Y/n, I just need the date of the extermination to be pushed back! He said he’ll come for us first and I just… I don’t know what to do! He won’t listen!” She said as her hand stressfully began to run through her blond hair as her pacing picked up pace. “He won’t listen, but I’ll make him listen Charlie, that’s an angels promise” you said trying to calm the girl. Which seemingly helped her before she sat down next to you sighing. Before turning her head to you questioning something in her head before finally speaking up.“I know this might be rude, don’t get me wrong! I’m so glad you actually listen to my idea! But…what’s the reasoning? I mean barely anyone even tried agreeing! But you’re.. just leading a hand for the hell of it?” She questioned with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. You only stared at her as you questioned if you should even trust her with such information you were about to tell.“I…I have someone who’s dear to me here, and I just, I just want him back in my arms” you confessed making the princesses eyes widen. “Who!” She asked almost too quickly, you shook your head in disappointment “I apologize princess but I’m afraid that’s something I wish to not reveal” you said.

“Look I have to get going, someones probably already getting suspicious of my absents” you said standing up and dusting off your clothing “but like I promised I’ll see what I can do and I’ll push the date as far back as I can, okay?” You said as you looked down at Charlie who still was seated at the couch. She could only nod, but you could tell she had some Sorrow in her mood. “Please keep your head up high princess, do not let them knock down your dreams.” You said silently as you bowed to her “I’ll be taking my leave but please put your trust in me, I will keep your and my people safe” you said with a smile as she stood up eyes drifting to you. “I..I trust you y/n” she said with a soft smile you only nodded to this as a portal behind you soon began to open. “I’ll come back soon, and with good news” you said as you slowly backed into the portal “take care princess” you said one final time at her.

She nodded as you gave her one last reassuring smile before fully walking into the portal. leaving the princess in a half better state then she was before.

But little did both of you know, a red haired demon was carefully listening in to both of you. Oh how his smile grew all the more bigger

His precious y/n was soon to be home,

With him once more.

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

EEEE THIS IS PART ONE IM WORKING IN PART TWO SOON I REALLY AM GOING CRAZY FOR THE STORY IM ABT TO COOK UP AHHH ̋(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

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confessedlyfannish · 3 months

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Writing Prompt #11

It's an innocent ("please," Jason sneers, "there's nothing innocent about a plagiaristic propaganda machine encouraging minors to dance for sick ol' pervs while it spews misogynistic hate speech.'"

"okay, boomer,"

"the fuck did you just call me, replacement?") TikTok, one of those ones that kind of simmers in the background for a few weeks until someone with a decent enough following posts it on the Platform Formerly Known as Twitter and from there it seriously catches traction, blowing up until Tim knocks on Bruce's office door, phone in hand. Damian stands behind him, arms crossed and clearly simmering.

Bruce, fresh off a series of zoom conferences, raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, so you haven't seen it," Tim decides, striding forward.

Bruce's eyebrow jumps a smidge higher, on the edge of concern, as Tim thrusts his phone into his grasp.

"So," he begins, reaching over to refresh the mobile page "there's a video that's been making the rounds on Twitter and—well you should probably see it," He sighs over Damian's scoff as he clicks through the pop-up asking him to sign in or join TikTok, and presses "Watch Again", unmuting the video.

🎶 "Doo, badoo-badoo-badoo Badoo-badoo-badoo-badoo,"🎶 an upbeat background song hums as someone, presumably a student, films a school hallway with their phone. They walk past students talking near their lockers, some of whom flash peace signs and silly grins as the camera swings their way before continuing on.

But the main point Bruce gets stuck on is the all lowercase white text at the center of the screen that an automated woman's voice awkwardly narrates:

"when you go to school with bruce wayne's other long lost lovechild"

The student filming comes up behind a much taller student who faces away from him, in conversation with a black haired pale teenaged girl. She spots the cameraman and shoots him a confused, disgruntled look, saying something to the boy who then turns around.

Bruce quietly observes as the camera zooms in on a boy around Tim's page, possibly older. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw, he raises an eyebrow at the one filming, looking beyond the camera, pitch black hair with blue undertones falling into his blue eyes. The camera momentarily zooms too far into those eyes then abruptly pulls back as he quirks a puzzled smile at the viewer, mouthing out an easily understandable "hi?".

The TikTok ends and seamlessly transitions to a person balancing their cat on an exercise ball with minimal success and this time Bruce presses the Watch Again button. The heart on the right side claims 750k likes.

Damian scoffs, louder, as it ends. "Clearly it is a hoax, but it has been popular among my classmates."

"The board hasn't made much noise about it—" Tim starts.

"And they won't," Bruce says, lifting his eyes from his phone. "Wayne Industries doesn't give statements on videos like these, no matter how viral they become. I've been getting lovechild claims since before I adopted Dick."

Which Tim knows, which is why his insistence on showing Bruce this one raises his hackles. He pins Tim down with a stare and despite Tim's perfected PR mask, he can see Tim is unsettled.

"B...he really, really looks like you." Tim admits. Damian scoffs for a third time and Tim shoots him a glare, "I get it, you don't see it, but you haven't seen the pictures of Bruce when he was younger."

"I don't need to!" Damian says angrily. "You're all being ridiculous!"

"All?" Bruce asks. Tim shifts awkwardly. "The family group chat has been talking," he says.

"I see," Bruce says. Because he does. Many claim Damian to be his doppelganger, but the boy actually favors Talia not just in skin tone but in the shape and color of his eyes, as well as the soft slope of her mouth and ears. Whether those features will sharpen once he goes through puberty is anyone's guess.

But this young man has Bruce's eyes. Martha's eyes.

That night they have a suspiciously full house for dinner, with even Jason dropping in, but no one says anything until Barbara wheels in for dessert, carrying a manila folder on her lap.

"What?" she says, when everyone stares. "Dick told me it was crème brûlée today!"

Bruce extends a hand wordlessly, and Barbara sheepishly hands the folder over.

"Bruce," she says, before he can open it, "I wouldn't have looked into this normally, but,"

"Just say it," Jason says, leaning back in his chair. "Take away the gray hairs, the receding hairline, and the wrinkles and the kid's a dead match."

"Take it back, Todd," Damian growls, "Father has a very full head of hair!"

"Not to mention a failed track record at keeping it in his pants, Exhibit A," Jason continues, pointing a fork at Damian, "oh wait," he says gleefully, "kid is definitely 18, so I guess that would make you Exhibit B!"

The table erupts, cutlery tinkling as Damian gets a knee up on the table to hurl himself at a cackling Todd, Dick jumping up to grab him as the others lean out of the way—

"Ahem!" Everyone stops cold as Alfred stands in the doorway, porcelain ramekins of crème brûlée stacked perfectly on a silver tray. Under his gaze, everyone sits back down, Damian and Jason both quietly uttering a "Sorry Alfie/Alfred," as they straighten up.

Bruce is oblivious to the chaos, Barbara biting her lip beside him as he stares blankly inside the folder at the printed copy of an adoption certificate.

Two days and several million likes later, another TikTok goes viral from the same user. Caught in the moment as whoever is filming runs up to the group, the same young man is chatting with a blonde in a red letterman jacket, a partially formed crowd around them. Even with one leg still in the cafeteria table, he towers over everyone.

"—sh. Look, we're all possibly Bruce Wayne's son!" the boy snarks. He has his hands out, palms up as if he's making a great point, and as he looks around he catches sight of the cameraman and his smirk drops.

"Ah Mac, c'mon dude not again—" and the TikTok ends.

#danny phantom #batman #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #bruce wayne #jason todd #danny fenton #my writing

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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

Text

goal // hockey!chris

summary: your boyfriend gets in a fight during his hockey game

part two

“SHIT!” I scream as the opposing team launches the puck into the goal. With some miracle, it’s pulled to the side goalpost, keeping the score at 2-2.

I relax in my seat with my best friend sitting next to me, her tension releasing just as much as mine, maybe more, considering her boyfriend is the goalie.

I watch as my boyfriend skates back onto the ice, tapping his stick three times to get my attention.

I love you.

I smile at him, watching as he races across the ice and steals the puck from his opponent.

In retaliation, that player slams Chris into the boards in front of me. My eyes widen at the sound of the impact, but my boyfriend skates backwards unscathed.

“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asks me in the middle of his game.

I nod, trying my best not to distract him.

We met when my best friend took me to her boyfriend's hockey banquet. It was hard not to be captivated by Chris. He checked all the right boxes and captured my attention with ease. I wanted to know everything about him.

We talked the whole night, then hung out in groups until we finally had the courage to go on a proper date. He kissed my cheek when he dropped me off at my apartment across our college campus, a complete sweetheart in the palm of my hands.

We started dating after a few months, taking everything really slow, especially with the chaos of our own college schedules and him having to travel for his games.

Chris skates next to his brothers, Sturniolo stitched into three jerseys standing next to each other as their coach speaks with them during their timeout.

I look at Chris’ hand, sticking out behind him. He has his hand out with his middle and ring finger down, signing I love you.

“You guys are just too cute, aren’t you?” my best friend teases me.

My cheeks burn red, a smile on my face that I can’t shake off.

A power play is set up right next to where we’re sitting. I always find this so interesting. I can hear everything the players say to each other.

“Who’s little girlfriend is there in the green?” someone says.

I know they’re talking about me, so I immediately scan Chris’ face to see what he says. He doesn’t respond, but his jaw is locked and his eyes are burning into the other player.

I watch Chris’ brother, Matt, charge into our view, stealing the puck away and attempting to shoot. It’s another lost cause. This goalie has saved the last 10 shots.

“Oh, Jesus,” my friend groans. “Look at Chris.”

I scan the ice for my boyfriend, finding the number 3 and following his every move. He follows the player with the last name Hart like a shark. I can’t hear anything, but I can see the anger on Chris’ face, and the humor on Hart’s. Finally, I watch Chris hit his breaking point.

With seven minutes left in the game, Chris races across the ice to Hart, despite the fact that his other brother, Nick, is already playing defense on him. Chris slides in front of his brother, cross-checking Hart.

“Are you kidding me?!” I hear a shout from behind me.

Eventually, the area around us erupts in cheers. Students from our school rise on their feet, jumping up and down, cheering on Chris as he picks a fight.

Sticks are thrown, and the referees stand in shock as Chris lays sprawled on top of Hart, regaining his balance before throwing punches at his helmet.

My heart is pounding, but I know better than to react and embarrass him. He knows how to be safe on the ice, and he knows his limits way better than I do. Not to mention, everyone loves Chris. Our school gathers just for him and his brothers, cheering them on at every game. The last thing I want is to embarrass him or his reputation.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chris roars, and at that, the referees finally get involved. It’s useless. While two referees hold onto him, another player from the opposing team runs up to defend Hart, throwing a punch at Chris’ jaw.

“Hey!” I find myself jumping up and yelling. I watch as the blood starts to pour from Chris’ nose, and now that there’s blood involved, I feel every bit of anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “Someone do something!”

Chris continues to get nailed, slurring out profanities as he expresses his anger.

“Do NOT talk about her!” he screams one last time as he’s dragged off the ice, his brothers eyeing down everyone else in case it’s their turn to throw a punch.

“Christopher Sturniolo, five minute penalty for fighting,” an announcer says over the speaker, repeating the same spiel for Hart.

I grab my bag and stand from the bleachers. “I’m gonna go meet him outside the locker room.”

I say goodbye to everyone and head to the locker room, wanting to know more about this fight, but more importantly, that he’s okay.

About 20 minutes later I see Chris walking with his coach, his nose mixed with some fresh and some dried blood. When his coach notices me standing outside of the locker room, picking at my fingers, he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”

Chris nods, walking right past me and into the locker room. I’ve already seen everyone else leave, so I know it’s safe to go in, but seeing that he completely ignored me, I don’t think a few guys in there would be enough to keep me from entering.

“So you’re just picking fights and ignoring me now?” I scoff.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, tearing his padding off and shoving it into his hockey bag.

I watch as he pulls his shirt off, his toned back facing me.

I find myself becoming embarrassingly distracted and forgetting what I’m actually in here for.

“Do you still want dinner?” I ask quietly, my voice timid.

Chris sighs and places his hands on the sides of his locker, the muscles in his back tensing. “Where do you want to go?”

I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. It’s like I’m too nervous to say anything in case he gets mad at me over something that happened during the game.

When I don’t answer, he turns around, finding nothing but concern painted all over my face.

He sighs again, this time one that tells me that he’s sorry without actually saying it. His arms wrap around me, his bare chest bracing my clothed one. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair as he kisses my head.

“What happened?”

He breathes out a laugh, tossing his shirt into his locker. “Johnny Hart happened, that piece of shit.”

I don’t ask for more information. The dam has now broken and I know the water carrying the information is going to come flooding in.

“He’s known for being a top tier trash talker, but it takes it way too fucking far,” he tells me. “I mean, talking about my family, my girlfriend–Fuck!”

I flinch at the sound of him shouting. “What did he say about me?”

He shakes his head.

“Tell me,” I plead.

“No!” he shouts again. “God, just– Go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go get something to eat.”

“I want to know what he said!”

“He’s a dick! Go wait outside,” he demands, but my feet are planted to the floor. I refuse to back down. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“Yes!” I argue.

“Fine!” he gives in. He takes a deep breath. “He was just saying disgusting things about you the whole time. Talking about your legs, how he wanted to see what you had under your pants.” I watch as his jaw tightens again. “He said he wanted to see if he could make you wetter than I can. That he would take you after the game and pin you against his car… Is that enough for you?”

I can see his face turning red, his anger bleeding out of him. It’s at this moment that I can also see that his face is still a bloody mess, and that matters more to me than what some idiot on the other team has to say about me.

Without a word, I walk to the sinks, grab a rag that has been folded up and get it damp with warm water. I motion for Chris to sit down on a bench in front of his locker, and when he does, I start gently dabbing his mouth with the rag.

He gives me a soft smile, and as cute as that is, my focus is on his bloody teeth.

“Oh, baby,” I mumble. I find a bottle of water buried in his bag so he can rinse his mouth, and continue cleaning his face. “Are your hands okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Had my gloves on.”

I nod, remaining silent as I wipe the blood from his mouth and give him somewhere to spit the bloody water.

“Coach is pissed,” he laughs lightly.

“I’m not surprised.”

“He was already getting on me about my grades, and with this… I gotta get it together or he’s benching me.”

We both know that his coach will fight anyone to make sure Chris stays on the starting team. He’s the best player this college has seen in years.

“I can tutor you again,” I offer. “I have time before work on Friday’s.”

He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want to put that on you.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it would have been an inconvenience.”

He nods, then rests his hands on my waist, eventually pulling my wrists down to remove my hands from his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.

“I know.”

“I just…” his voice trails off. “I can’t stand it when they do that shit. I know you’re a catch because… come on,” he motions his hands at me, making me laugh. “I just can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not bothered by it.”

“I get it,” I assure him, trying to relieve the part of him that feels like he’s letting people down. “Let’s just get those grades up and try to tone back on the fighting, okay?”

He nods, this time smiling with a lot less blood in his teeth. He pulls me down to his level, resting me on his lap before holding my cheeks and kissing me gently. “I love you.”

A smile grows on my face. “I love you more.”

His eyes go wide. “Enough to fight Hart’s girlfriend for me?”

I let out a short laugh. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

#sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

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idiaa-shroxd · 1 year

Text

THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ dormleaders. ❞

SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?

warnings; gn!reader x dormleaders. long post. the keep reading line may repeat a bit of text, but please continue reading if it does. inspired by this video. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii.

PROLOGUE.

“Are you really sure about this, Henchman?” Grim asks, crossing his arms as he huffs, jealousy laced in his voice. He was used to your occasional strange idea, but he considered something to be sincerely wrong with you at the moment if you thought bringing other stray cats into his territory were a smart idea, not to mention the way you were cuddling them and scratching their bellies. Where did you even find this many cats? Did you make a deal with Azul?

Puffing your cheek slightly, you ignore your cat’s comment while putting the collar on the last one. “Do you want to have fancy tuna?” You reply, fixing the collar’s bow as you smile at your hard work. “You’re not believing in me, Grim. This is an untapped market potential, in case you forgot we have a whole dorm here at school dedicated to gamers and introverts practically. And you know what they like? Cats and silence!” You tell him as you look at your array of cats.

You’d found yourself surprised that Professor Trein actually entertained your question if he knew where to find cats on sage island, even more so when Crowley eventually relented to letting you keep a few cats in exchange for not bringing up the fact you’ve been through how many overblots against him for awhile. This was a chance you could not lose. “There’s cat cafe’s in my world with relatively simple rules and a quiet atmosphere. We simply need to make it a reality, and lucky for us we have a magical furniture tool and an investor.” You say, getting up from the chair and walking toward your little notebook to check off another item off the list.

“You have an investor?” He asked, not quite believing you as he raised a brow. Hearing his disbelief you chuckle a little, pointing your pen at a corner of the room to which he jumps in surprise, letting out a shock ‘nyagh!’ “Idia has been here for the past two hours, ever since I told him what I was going to do. I don’t know how or why he has money, but he has it and that’s enough for me.” You say, Grim still surprised he hadn’t notice Idia once in well over two hours. He still wasn’t convinced on your plan, but if it got him tuna and money, your plan surely can’t be that bad?

HEARTSLABYUL. riddle rosehearts.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

“Are there any rules I need to follow while I’m here?” Riddle asks, a little antsy as it were his first time in a room with so many cats before. It were against the queen’s rules to bring cats to a formal affair, but this wasn’t too formal, it were a cafe. And you did get explicit permission from the headmage so indulging in you just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? With a laugh, you point in the direction of one of the walls with the rules on display next to a signed plaque from the headmaster giving his approval to your whims.

“The rules are really simple. No forcing or disturbing the cats, do not go around picking them up, do not let them have your drinks, and refrain from running around and making too much noise. Outside drinks, food, and shoes are not permitted for sanitary reasons. You can only feed the cats treats sold by the prefect or in the gacha machines, and you have to log in which cat you’ve fed to ensure one cat doesn’t get particularly overweight.” You read off the board the rundown as he nodded, determined to follow the rules. As he stepped inside your now transformed guest room, his eyes sparkled as one of the cats immediately begun purring at him. Perhaps a cat cafe truly wasn’t too bad a place.

Riddle was really weary of your little project when you first told him about it. He really stopped lecturing you after you explained you had all the proper permission and even an investor. He had no idea who on campus would help you with this, but after hearing it were Idia he thought that maybe you were actually a bit more serious than he realized about your cat cafe plans. He takes awhile to convince to actually come, but after maybe seeing a picture you text him of the kitties with the caption, “I want Riddle to play with me!” he concedes ever so slightly into your demands.

His eyes light up in genuine happiness as little cats meow at his feet. His only other real experience with cats was Grim as his mother would not let him near them, but now he understands what the appeal to cats is about. They’re all so soft and he may use an occasional toy, but he also gets to hear their affection purrs as they nudge him nearly making him forget why he was so angry just ten minutes prior when he was collaring a student again. He isn’t a regular since he’s busy, but whenever you happen to ask he tries to make time, only because you’ve asked him to or his dorm members ask him to visit, not because he’s succumbed to being a cat person, he says, lying through his teeth.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) shorthair with pure dark grey fur and orange-yellow eyes. He wasn’t too sure how to act around the cats but this one plopped it’s chubby body onto his lap while nipping at his hand demanding to be pet while meowing right to his face and Riddle could not say no to that face. The cat is not as furry as the others and he quite prefers that, less hair to clean off of his clothes. He thought he would of preferred a less demanding cat, but Sesame is very calming and distracting for his anger. He at some point also noticed cat collar’s slightly changing and asked you about it.. and you found a gift from him, more specifically Sesame received a gift. His previous yellow collar replaced with a higher quality rose-red collar with white outlines of rose petals engravings. Now instead of a silent bell he had a rose attached to the front of the collar, and at the back of the collar was a bow designed to resemble leaf petals.

Absolutely plays favorites, he’s still a bit weary for long haired cats to approach him but won’t tell them to go away, and he always feels guilty if he pets a cat that is not Sesame. He would be willing to buy cat popsicles and cat treats on occasion but tries not to overly them as he knows you’re trying to not get them to be overweight and stay within a healthy range. He’s also able to get some work done when he visits, though not too often as his cat takes up most of his time and does not like him to share his attention with his paperwork, deliberately plopping down onto the paper if he deems he has not received enough attention. You could probably get away with asking him a single stupid question while he is relaxed. Only one, so use that question wisely.

Overall is a good guest since he keeps quiet to himself and his cat, and if he’s talking he’s really quiet about it since he respects your rules. He follows every single one to heart, not only that but also makes sure other guests are taking it to heart as well.

SAVANACLAW. leona kingscholar.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

“Shut up, herbivore.” The beastmen hissed as you tried to hide your overly smug expression. “I haven’t even said anything yet, Kingscholar.” You tease as he opens one of his eyes and snarls at you in a nonthreatening manner, one hand running through his hair as the other runs his fingers through the fur of the sleeping cat on his chest, unable to stop you from taking pictures without disturbing said cat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” You can’t help but snicker as you snap another photo of the annoyed beastman. You were definitely going to post this on your magicam story when you were free. Distracted by your phone, you fail to notice his ears twitching ever so slightly as he looks away from you, his face just a little bit darker in color than before as he shuts his eyes, going back to sleep.

Leona had no interest in being friendly with a bunch of strays you brought in from who knows where. He actually laughed in your face the first time you offered him some coupon to your cat cafe, he had no interest being near rowdy students. That was until he had the most annoying day alive, a conversation twice with Malleus in a single hour and he used you as his stress relief, nearly knocking you onto the floor as he plopped onto you after following you into your cat cafe.

No one else was there as you hadn’t opened, and he understood the appeal. The room wasn’t overcool with regulated temperatures perfect for a cat, with dim lighting and soft music. You even had different parts of your cafe for different guests as you place him onto one of the longer sofas, finally getting him off of you as you poor him a drink and listen to his complaint. At some point he had a group of cats just laying on him and purring against him and snuggling and he’s fallen asleep, not waking up until you inform him you’re closing for the night, and not to move too abruptly with the cat still sleeping on his chest.

His favorite cat had claimed him during their first fateful encounter, being a persian breed. The cat is very fluffy with creamy white fur and golden eyes, enjoying swaying her tail against Leona’s nose and kneading at his chest, arms, feet, wherever she gets her paws on. She does not enjoy being disturbed but does enjoy the occasional pet and spends most of her time just napping with Leona and pawing at him. He claims the cat is noisy every once in awhile but he can be seen petting her with one hand as the other shields his eyes as he lays down, letting her purr against him. He flat out told you he was replacing her stupid black collar with a new one, a brown silk collar that’s just a tad bit loose, with a few golden engravings and a beautiful bow on the back in a lighter brown and golden moons. Nebula also gets cat popsicles every once in awhile that he gets Ruggie to buy from you.

He is used to a bunch of different cats crawling over him as they seem to naturally approach him, and he’s very smug about that to Malleus, but he does have his favorite. Nebula is his number one cat and he will pick her up even though you have a no disturbing the cats rule and he will place her beside him as he has a drink as he lays down in his unofficial spot while she climbs atop him and goes to take a nap. He’s not jealous but he just does not allow other people to touch his cat is all. Whenever you come over to bring him a drink he’s trying to pull you down and shamelessly puts an arm around you as you ignore his clinginess and return back to your cats and cafe. May use a cat toy on occasion but not when you are watching because you get a stupid grin and ask him if he feels like pawing at the toy and he tries not to leave you on a street corner.

Overall a horrible guest but a decent guest. He definitely does not follow every rule and acts grumpy but he’s very quiet except the occasional snore. He will also take a very long time to leave because you need to scratch his ears because he’s not “fully awake”. But in terms of cat parenting he’s a pretty good guest.

OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

“So… do you still want to complain?” You ask, raising a brow as you stare at the bespectacled boy with a smug grin. He swore that there was zero charm to a cat cafe and that you stole his business from him just two weeks ago, but now he had a cup of coffee between his fingers sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, a purring cat on his lap with documents on the table spread out as he worked. Azul’s face flustered a slight tint of red as he let out a small cough much to your and the twin’s amusement.

“That was the past, prefect. We found a way to make this arrangement mutual benefitting now, no need to bring up old problems.” He tries to sound professional as you snicker. Two weeks ago was not really a distant past, but you did work thing out. “Whenever you want a refill just let me know, I’ll leave you guys alone for now, I’ve got more to do.” You say, deciding not to tease the octomer further as you retreat back into the kitchen, leaving him to be teased by his two ‘friends’.

Azul had stormed into your establishment one day with a single goal in mind, to figure out how you had stolen his business. He came perplexed, how were you allowed cats on campus? Where did you get the money for renovation? Who was your supplier? Most importantly why did everyone favor the prefect’s cat cafe over the Monstro Lounge with quality service and quality food?

He had sat you down trying to be scary but you ended up putting him. You had offered him a proposal of a collaboration. If anyone orders a special item off the Monstro Lounge menu that day before coming into your cafe they’d be eligible to receive a little something from your cafe for free such as a cat popsicle or an extra thirty minutes added onto their time. He was weary at first but people came to the Monstro Lounge as though they were giving away free money as they came in groups. You both benefitted from this as you did not want food near your kitties that weren’t for them as that posed health and safety issues. He doesn’t know how but he also finds himself on occasion coming to your cafe during breaks as it was surprisingly calming despite his absolute hatred for these innocent cats when he originally entered.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) longhair with dark orange-esque fur with a fluffy white front and light blue eyes. He has no clue as to how but somehow this cat became his favorite as he purred against Azul’s shoes, nudging at him before eventually crawling into his lap. The cat makes little disturbance as Azul works, the purring soothing the octomer as he finishes up, occasionally finding his sleeves being tugged at when Butterscotch declares he’s been working enough by demanding pats. Butterscotch has also found himself on the end of receiving a lot of cat popsicles recently, and a collar upgrade. His collar went from a plain leathery texture to some high quality collar blue collar with tentacle engravings, and a sea patterned bowtie at the front of the collar, the center being a pretty shell.

He entertains other cats but keeps an eye out for his favorite, always reserving his lap space just for him. He mainly spends his time at the cafe after a large rush or when he has time off to work in the silence with his cat instead of the silence of his office. He actually finds himself working a lot faster in your cafe than all alone and he gets free refills on his coffee, so technically he is profiting than if he used his own supply, he justifies to himself. When he finishes work he may on occasion be found talking to you attempting to flirt poorly as you remain oblivious as he has no interest in manga or gaming. May occasionally be found brushing his favorite kitty’s fur and telling him he is going to become fat like he once was then still feeding him the treat regardless because he is very polite.

Overall is a very good guest as long as he has his kitty. Gets a bit antsy if he has to spend his time without his favorite as though he had been replaced but does not cause a scene or whine. Please make sure before you close he gets to squish his cat’s paw and knows he has not been replaced with a different cat dad.

SCARABIA. kalim al-asim.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

“Aha, prefect! Could I have another cat treat, please?” Kalim pleaded with you as you shake your head, doing your best at giving the puppy eyed dorm leader a firm no. He already had two today, that was enough. “But look at Taffy, she’s starving!” He says as you raise a brow, staring at the cat that was getting plumper by the day.

“Kalim, I love you like my actual child but no more. She’s even eating the other cat’s leftovers now at lunch time.” You scold the boy as he apologizes and pleads he will stop after maybe just one more treat as you sigh, putting your foot down and eyeing Jamil pleadingly who only pretends he can’t see you as he plays with his cat. “I’ll even pay four times the amount!” He said, pouting as you shook your head, ready to dive into the same discussion you’ve had with him the past three days.

Two hours, that is how long it took for Kalim to hear about your business venture and ask, beg, you to let him see. Apparently Idia had told Ortho who told the board game club members and word got around to Cater and Cater told him and Lilia and now he was bouncing off the walls in excitement with Jamil in tow. He was already prepared to meet the kitties and Jamil said it was okay so could you please go now? When he hears that there’s rules to follow he listens intently and follows them as best as he can remember, but he’s just so excited about the cats and trying your drinks! Also looking at the interior and more. Wait you also have gaming pcs and manga? He has to check those out too! His hyperactiveness could not be contained and you were a little concerned for the cats.

You were right to assume Kalim could not be contained for more than two seconds as he pspspspss at all of the kitties, toy in both hands as he was already playing with them, cats crawling on his lap and nudging at him, biting at him playfully and surrounding him as he held a cat popsicle out towards them, talking your’s and Jamil’s ears off about how fluffy and wonderful of a place this is. He had to tell every single person in his dorm about it, and his family, and people from other dorms as well, this was the greatest place on campus so far! Do you also need help buying the cat food or anything? He’d be willing to be another investor in a heartbeat but Jamil talks him out of it, partially. His favorite thing is official a cat in his lap as he drinks your own tea brew that he gifted you from his country… which may cost more than your entire life.

His favorite cat is a maine coon with black fur and green eyes. This cat has the world’s finest at her fingertips if she just meows. Kalim knows it’s wrong to pick favorites but he can’t deny that she is his favorite when she headbutts his chin and meows at him for minutes at a time even if he’s petting her. She’s extremely fluffy and starting to become pudgier but he doesn’t mind that as he gets her more treats. Her pink collar has long since been discarded as she now has a full wardrobe, but her collar is now the finest white silk and handmade embroidery with real gemstones and solid gold for the silent bell. Even the bow on the back of the collar is large and beautiful, she’s worth more than the students that actually visit the cafe and you hope you aren’t robbed.

Kalim does play favorites but also doesn’t. Things are very clear he has a favorite cat but he will play with any and every cat that approaches him. He respects your do not disturb the cat rule, really, but he just really wants to pet every single kitty. He always says he wants to try one of the pcs but ends up forgetting as he works on his homework failing to pay attention while petting Taffy and giving her kisses and then eventually falling asleep because he’s all tired out. He has read a few of the mangas but he reads it to Taffy specifically and Jamil has to remind him to be quiet for your other guests. He may have also asked his family to visit your cafe so you may be visited by one of the world’s richest couple in the future when the campus opens for outside guests.

Overall a great guest for the cats but a nightmare for you as he looks like a sad puppy when you refuse to let him buy treats. Also occasionally forgets and makes a loud noise when he enters and sees his favorite cat, and he can be a little distracting because he can’t sit still for too long at times.

POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

“When in Twisted Wonderland did this happen..?” You mutter to yourself as you brewed another cup of tea for Vil using the brand he specifically gave you for himself when he visited. He was adamantly refusing to even set foot in your guest room after hearing what you had done, but now Rook was taking a photo of him elegantly sitting down in one of your lounge chairs with a cat on his lap, purring loudly looking at the camera as though she understood how to pose and was a natural born model.

You bring the tea over to his table as he thanks you, lifting the cup and saucer elegantly as Rook takes a photo, already singing praises on how great it would look on his magicam as Vil looks confidently smug. You couldn’t believe this all happened just because Rook had said something about Neige and how cute it would be for a boy like him to be surrounded by cats. “Thank you for your patronage.” You say with a small smile on your lips, amused. Well at least a happy Vil is free promotion for your business on campus.

Vil was happy for you, really, but he was not going to visit the cat cafe even if you pleaded by his feet and rose someone from beyond this mortal realm to drag him in. That was until he heard Rook talking to you and Epel about how Neige would surely be so beautiful surrounded with cats and you agreeing and throwing in a comment about how it would make him seem more likeable and relatable. He knew Rook was a Neige fanboy but he couldn’t have you converting into one too, are you forgetting he’s the fairest of them all, and the only celebrity you should praise like that? If it is relatability you truly desire he can spare one afternoon at your cat cafe since he needs to check up on the place his dorm members have been spending their time at recently to ensure it is up to Pomefiore standard.

He originally looked as though he was going to fight one of the cats with how he was trying to mentally tell the long haired cats to stay away from him. He was so intimidating to even the cats that none were willing to approach him but one, a very snooty girl that begun pawing at his ankles, jumping up into his lap and kneading him as she claimed her seat. He found her demeanor pleasantly charming as she wasn’t that furry and she was good enough, he thought. He managed to get some high quality photos that did trend on magicam for the rare domestic sight of the Vil Schoenheit and a cat. It was surprisingly soothing for him and he did eventually come back where the cat once again claimed him as her’s.

His favorite cat is a siamese with cream white fur and black siamese patterns and bright blue eyes. She’s rather thin and does not shed fur all over his lap like some of the other cats. He makes sure to keep her fur shiny as he brushes her down and uses some toys on her. He refrains from often buying treats as she doesn’t seem fond of them and he doesn’t want her to be too overfed, a model should keep a strict diet. Her collar was replaced without even informing you, the old white one did not fit his or apparently her standard so he simply had to replace it for her. It was a pretty fancy dark blue color with golden engravings in the pattern of pomefiore’s insignias, a purely custom design, with a pretty bow in front, with a silent bell. It’s hard to believe she was ever a stray at one point.

He does not entertain most of the other cats beyond looking at them as he pets Iris. He knows his cat is a complete snob and will likely not entertain other guests, perched up high in her cat tree bed until he comes along so he would never cheat on her with being another cat’s dad. He has full faith that he is the only one that she will ever go to so he does try to stop by every once in awhile to make sure she’s getting the attention and grooming that is needed for a cat of her standard. He’s not into your gaming pcs or your manga corners, but does appreciate you do have school textbooks to borrow and a quiet study nook so that he can elegantly pet Iris with a cup of fine tea while doing his assignments as Rook fawns over them.

Overall a very good guest as long as you leave him alone. Follows your rules, does not talk loudly or much, and goes above and beyond with taking care of your cat that you begin to think it’s actually his cat he’s just letting you keep. You’re a little concerned he may just tell you he’s taking your cat with him once you graduate, but he is a rather good cat dad, at least!

IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.

IDIA SHROUD.

“I-di-a” You coo, bending down and whispering in the ear of the man currently on the floor, two cats surrounding him as he feeds them cat treats. The blue haired boy physically jolts upwards letting out a small whimper of utter shock of being spoken to as you chuckle. “Are you having fun?” You ask as he blushes, looking away from you as he turns his attention back to the cat pawing at his pant leg. “Ehehe, this is even better than watching the series finale to an anime live.” He whispers as one of the orange kitties crawls into his arms, headbutting him.

“You flatter me, glad to know you think so highly of my hard work. Ahem, our hard work.” You say as you pick up the other kitty, fixing their collar as you lightly run your fingers through the cat’s fur. Giving the cat a kiss to his nose and boop, you set him back down as you notice Idia staring at you only to blush insanely red as he looked away quickly from being caught. “Thank you for your hard work… prefect.” He quickly whispers much to your amusement.

Idia has become the number one patron. From the second class ends to the time you close for the evening Idia is right there petting the kitties. He’d actually volunteered to work for free, not as a waiter or anything but as a sort of cat playmate. He’d make sure the cats are satisfied and not bored and no one can touch him or look at him, but you said no, he needs to share the cats.

He’s the reason your wifi is amazing despite your run down dorm, and he makes sure absolutely everything regarding technology is perfect. It took him a bit to understand what you want and why that was necessary beyond you just saying cat cafes in your world have these things, but he understands what bliss is now. Anytime some machine seems even remotely broken he fixes it at a record pace.

His favorite cat had claimed him awhile back. A pure white ragamuffin that is extremely fluffy. The cat is extremely docile and she’d claim her spot in his lap, purring as he’d read manga or play on one of the cafe pcs, occasionally nibbling his finger when he squirms too much from gamer rage. Her original collar was a nice shade of orange, but he not so subtly changed it into one he got. A pretty light baby blue shade with small jewel engravings, a little silent bell at the front with a pretty bow on the back with golden stripes. You are partially convinced he genuinely does believe Ivory is his firstborn child.

He does play with other cats but has a favorite. He always pays for one cat popsicle a day at minimum to feed the cats and pays for other cat treats whenever he can because he is weak. He also is rigged at crane games so he can easily snack through the day never leaving the cafe. There are occasions you tell him stop feeding human snacks to the cat, they will get chubby. He ends up looking super offended on behalf of the kitties you dare said any one of them are chubby. When he’s not pampering the cats you can find him gaming in one of the pcs, grinding through an event. At moments like these do not approach him and leave him alone so he can forget he is actually in public and not his bedroom.

Overall a very respectful guest. He’s quiet, makes sure to respect the boundaries of the cats and the rules you’d set up, and does not cause any scenes. The only issue is getting him to leave may be a little difficult as he tries to give one more kiss… Or that he tries to come on your days off just to keep the little babies company. there’s also the occasion every so often that you can feel his gaze on you, only for you to catch him as he hides his face, the tips of his hair turning pink as he watches you work.

DIASOMNIA. malleus draconia.

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

“Child of man, could I please have one of those.. cat ice creams I believe they’re called?” Tsunotarou asked, eyes sparkling ever so slightly in childlike wonder as you let out a charming laugh, handing him a popsicle that was specifically made for cats to eat. He had always been fond on ice cream but now he had the ability to share it with someone else he liked, the cat that had claimed him a few weeks ago.

“Just one though, we don’t want to feed them too much now.” You say but know it will fall on deaf ears as you didn’t wish to ruin his fun. You didn’t think he had experience with cats before so you were pleasantly surprised one of your cats had practically claimed him, but it all worked out. “Worry not child of man, I won’t give him too many treats. Though I’m sure if I too were eating your cooking right now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself either.” Flustered by his comment, you leave him to play with the cat as you retreat behind the counter, he really was dangerous for reasons different than rumors.

He heard about your business venture from Lilia and was ready to pay a visit not caring if he scared off your guests but halted in his tracks when he heard you telling Sebek you were going to invite him. His mind tells him he has won the lottery and he retreats to fix his outfit waiting in the lounge for an hour until you reach Diasomnia’s doorsteps to speak with him. He is not listening as you greet him with a hug and tell him you’d like for him to come to Ramshackle for a surprise. Something about you also not opening the cafe today so it’d just be you and him so he’d be comfy, there’s really no reason to try and continue speaking he’s been charmed for over an hour, prefect.

He practically vibrates from sheer joy as he’s frozen, then rapidly shaking, then beaming as a cat waltzes up to him as though he owns the prince. He basically blue screens momentarily as the cat with such soft fur and pure innocent eyes meows up at him, pawing at his feet to be picked up. He picks up the cat as you watch curiously, finally figuring out he wasn’t listening to you at all as he stares at the cat’s eyes and then your’s. “Our child is beautiful.” He says as you raise a brow, shrugging it off as you tell him you’d brew him a black coffee and to sit wherever he would like. He instead chooses to sit at the counter bar, watching you and the cat that’s on his lap nipping at his fingers and demanding his attention as well. For the first time in awhile he feels as though something doesn’t fear him other than you.

His favorite cat is a ragdoll cat with white fur and black splotches and deep blue eyes. He claims this cat is your child and you have no idea what he’s thinking of but he seems happy as he shamelessly pulls out a cat toy and plays with him. Also slightly insults the cat by calling him brave or stupid as though a cat can comprehend what he means while mewling at him. Also asks you if he can also have a custom collar after Lilia tells him about his cat, and after you allow him to replace the old red collar he’s excited. Black is the color of royalty in the briar valley and Oatmeal has the privilege of wearing it on his new collar. A pretty black collar with green wings beside a silent bell that may be made of actual gold, along with a little dragon hood-cape and short plush horns you got him so your boys match.

Very possessive of Oatmeal. He will applaud other cats if they dare approach him but everyone knows he has a bias. He practically has been claimed by his cat and no one else is brave enough to go near his cat and no cat is brave enough to approach him, they are a perfect match. He has tried to take your cat back to Diasomnia but you have to remind him that the cat stays with you, he needs a proper schedule, friends, and he needs to stop being fed so many treats. He’s also incredibly smug about it and will come to the cafe on your off days as he talks to you petting Oatmeal and glaring at Leona on the opposite couch who’s busy petting Nebula but refrains from getting physical or suffer your wrath. You’d kicked both men out for an entire weekend.

Overall a good guest personally, but his reputation may cause some people to be scared of visiting. Regardless, he’s very polite to you and treats his cat very good, making sure to give him treats and enough exercise with a toy. May also overpay for coffee and start fights with Leona when you aren’t even open yet. In fact, how on earth did the two of them even get into your cafe? You literally just woke up and they’re spitting insults at one another.

EPILOGUE.

“Fnaygh! I guess I really am a business genius, Henchman.” Grim said as he dug into a can of fancy tuna, one that you had bought without having to worry about your budget for once. You expected success from Ignihyde students, but it seemed like your little business venture went above and beyond with students from all different dorms trying to be booking ahead of time and trying to visit your cat cafe.

“Right right, you’re the genius, Grim.” You laugh in response to your friend as you finished checking on the other cats, finishing up for the evening. In terms of profit, almost every single day you were fully packed with as much people you’d allow in at once, and you had to temporarily increase the charging rates. Despite the increase people still begun to visit, who knew the school filled with villainous kids would be so excited to pet some cats? Especially your regulars, they adored these cats enough they got the cats gift, not you, but the cat.

It was tough work to manage the guest room cafe all by yourself though, you had to admit to yourself. Perhaps you should take up Ace’s offer and idea at hiring some part time employees, your first year friends had already offered, so maybe you’d start training them for help?

a bit of a long post but i have had this thought for awhile ever since reading Idia’s guest room lines? So I figured I would just turn my headcanon into an actual written work. I have more ideas though for a separate post, but I am unsure if I’ll post it, but I do need to share my thought’s of Floyd’s favorite cat being a sphynx cat named prune that is very vocal and has a cozy ugly little sweater that Floyd likes to bathe with you.

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minnesota-fats · 11 months

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A fic-lit about Danny working at the watchtower, not as a superhero but as an engineer.

This is based on an prompt I read months ago but cant find where Danny put that he was a halfa on his resume but the hiring manager didn’t pay attention to it and hired him anyway. Rather than that its just Danny working at the watchtower and vibing on break when a tiny Robin finds him in the viewing deck.

—

Danny had been working for the justice league watchtower for a couple of months. He has seen hero’s come and go, paying him no mind and he was absolutely living for it! Unlike at 14, he was just a simple, normal worker—despite being half dead and the next in line for the crown in the infinite realms—he is just a simple mechanical engineer, Danny Nightingale. No one to fight, no one to save, just a big space station that needed someone to help keep it up in space.

And that's another bonus to this job; Space!

He gets to spend his shift up in the stars, looking out at the cold expanse of their solar system. Admiring the earth from a whole new angle, and he is getting paid to do it! Sure he could go into space any time, but being able to spend a good portion of his time here really made his core sing in joy. When he was on break he would wander around the areas he had clearance to go into, looking out every window at every star. Cataloging the ships movement through space with sharp eyes. His favorite place to go is the viewing deck, it was exactly what it sounded like, a place to just go and view that space outside.

It was there that Danny decided to take his break today, the Watchtower was at just the right angle to be able to see the earth from the viewing deck. Danny smiled watching the planet he lived on from afar, this really was the best job he could have ended up with!

A few months back he was having a hard time finding work after college, sure he had all the proper qualifications for the positions he applied for. But due to his medical condition—being half dead with a slow almost nonexistent heartbeat—they all refused him, afraid that his heart wouldn't keep up if he left the atmosphere to board any of the space stations orbiting the earth. To be fair it wouldn't have, he tested it by flying up to the moon and back the old fashioned way. But he couldn't just tell them that; being an ecto entity was still a crime that he was just barely able to get away from at age eighteen.

He came out to his parents once he graduated high school, they reacted poorly. Danny’s mom saw red and tried to kill him the rest of the way, claiming that Danny was just a ghost “piloting” his corpse around. Danny’s dad just stayed silent and watched, but before maddie could really do anything he acted. Jack knocked Maddie out with a strong blow to the back of her head. Danny remembered the hope that he had when Jack did that, but after he looked up at the man that hope died in his chest. The man looked torn, both angry and sad and in a voice lacking any of the familiar warmth said, “leave before she wakes up.” And he turned to pick up Maddie and made his way up the stairs. It was because of his dad that he was able to get away because after that Danny Fenton was declared dead. With the help of Sam and Tucker he was able to make a new identity for himself and go to school. From that day on Danny decided to move on and never look back.

After putting his name out there time and time again he was rejected. It wasn't until he got a letter in the mail saying he had been scheduled for an interview at Wayne tech of all places. He didn’t remember applying there but decided to go anyway, needing some sort of job to get him through. But when he got there he was greeted by Lucius Fox and Batman of all people! Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark knight, Danny couldn't help but think the worst. But before he could bolt, Lucius explained that Batman was looking for workers with the help of Wayne Industries for the base of operations for the Justice League—The Watchtower. Turns out all his applications to several different space programs caught the man’s attention. He even explained that Danny wouldn't even need to have a physical or get on a spaceship because The Watchtower utilized teleportation technology. Danny was so excited that he agreed on the spot without even knowing the benefits he would get from working with them. Which—surprising to no one—were a lot of benefits.

Danny was drawn from his thoughts when he heard the soft, almost nearly nonexistent footsteps coming from behind him. Danny turned and saw a child—no older than twelve—wearing a hero’s costume that looked like he was mimicking a traffic light. The kid froze in his tracks when Danny turned to face him, the two staring at each other for a few moments before the kid smiled and waved at him.

“Hi,” the kid beamed at Danny, “I’m D—Robin!”

Danny lifted a brow, “you a part of the justice league?” He asked, not remembering a kid being a part of their team.

The kid shook his head, “No, my guardian is though!” He explained.

“Ah, neat,” Danny said nonshalontly as he turned back to look at the window, “you come to see the view?” He asked.

The kid walked farther into the room and gasped when he got a better look at said view. “Woah—”, he exclaimed, now standing next to Danny.

Danny looked beside him to see the stars reflecting off of the kids' eyes, “cool isn't it? I come here on my lunch breaks," Danny says.

The kid looked at him and then squinted suspiciously, “if you're at lunch where is your food?” He asked.

Danny smiled, “I forgot my lunch at home today,” Danny lied, seeing the stars gave him enough energy to continue going. He usually eats when he gets home.

“Really?” The kid asked with a raised brow.

Danny smiled and looked around to see if anyone else was there, when he saw no one he asked, “do you wanna hear a secret?” He asked. Robin looked around himself as well before he leaned down a bit so Danny could whisper into his ear, “I actually just absorb the energy from the stars to sustain myself.” He explained.

“Really?” Robin asked, looking at him again, trying to gauge if Danny was lying or not.

Danny smiled, “yep,” he said, popping the p, “that's why I got a job here, that way I won’t starve to death.” Danny grins.

“But cant you just look at the stars from earth?” Robin asked, tilting his head.

“I mean, sure,” Danny says with a shrug, looking back out the window, “but this is so much better, isn't it?”

Robin looked out the window, “yeah!” The boy exclaimed, “it's so much clearer up here than in Gotham.” He commented.

Danny smiled and looked back at the boy, “I live in Gotham, too.”

“Really?” Robin asked, “No wonder you come up here,” the boy commented, causing Danny to snort in laughter and it wasn't long before Robin joined him.

“You got that right,” Danny says with a smirk before something dawns on him, “Wait, hero from gotham? I didn't know Batman had a kid?” Robin looked away, Danny could feel his nerves and sadness pass through him.

Danny was about to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it but before he could get his words out Robin spoke up, “My parents died about a year ago… he took me in only recently, he decided to train me when I found out he was Batman,” the kid says looking down at his feet, a glare etched on his face, “i never got to avenge my parents, the murderer had a heart attack before I could even get to him….”

Danny reached out to the kid and placed his hand on Robin’s shoulder, Robin looked up at him—as if remembering that Danny was there with him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danny says softly, Robin looks away from him. “But I can tell you wholeheartedly, your parents are proud of you and what you are doing,” robin began rubbing at his mask, preventing him from wiping the tears away from his eyes underneath. “Here,” Danny says as he goes to pick up the 12 year old, “let's get you back to the Big Black Bat, I bet he is looking for you.”

Danny sits Robin on his hip and walks out of the room, rubbing circles into the child’s back. They walk together in silence, Robin resting his head in the crook of Danny's neck. “…Thank you,” Robin mumbles.

“Don't mention it kid,” Danny says as he looks around the corridor trying to spot anyone who could help him get this kid to the upper levels, “I know what it's like to lose your parents….”

“Really?” Robin asked, his head lifting off of Danny’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Danny says, “they didn't die, but they basically said they never wanted to see me again.”

Robin gasped, “that's not nice!” Robin declared making Danny laugh again.

“Your right,” Danny agrees as he turns down another hall towards where the zeta tubes were, maybe someone in there could help. “But, now I'm here, having the time of my life with the job of my dreams.”

Robin smiled again, “you could say you're living the HIGH life.”

Danny paused in the hall and started snickering, “that was a good one, Birdy.”

“Birdy?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, your name is Robin, that's a bird, so Birdy,” Danny explained, “its a nickname

“Does that make us friends?” Robin asked.

“Sure, as long as your guardian is ok with it.”

The boy smiled happily, excited at the idea of having made a new friend. The calm was interrupted but Danny’s supervisor yelled from across the room, “Nightingale!” He shouts, causing Danny to jump.

Danny turns to look at the man, “hey boss—” he starts, blocking Robin from the man, not wanting to scare the kid.

“You are late to clock back in! You're not getting paid to sit around with your head in the clouds!” The man shouts.

“Sorry sir, I was—”

“No! You need to get back to work, NOW!” He demanded, “this is a multibillion dollar space station, everything needs to be on a strict schedule!”

Danny sighed, his supervisor hasn't liked Danny from day one. Something about him being “young and nïeve” or something like that; “head higher up into space than we were right now.” At least that's what Danny heard him say about him once or twice.

Danny was about to talk back when something just past his manager caught his eye. It was Batman, walking fast with a look that told everyone to get out of the way. But Danny could feel the worry bleed off the man in waves. Must be looking for Robin, Danny’s mind supplied. Danny sidesteps his supervisor and shouts, “Hey Batman!” To catch the dark knight’s attention. Danny had to restrain his laughter when he saw the look of horror pass on his supervisor's face.

Now with the vigilanties cold glare focused on him, Danny smiled and adjusted his stance to show Robbin to him. “Looking for you kid?” Danny asked.

Robin smiled nervously and waved at Batman, guess he wasn’t supposed to wander off like he did. “Hey B!” He shouts.

Batman’s glare softens so slightly, a regular person would have missed it. However, Danny could feel the man’s previous anxieties melt away into a strong relief. Batman strutted forward and glared down at Danny—despite Danny being taller than him. Danny just smiled and adjusted Robin on him so he could hand him over to the dark knight.

Now in Batman’s arms, Robin tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. “Sorry for wandering off,” he mumbled before his smile came back full force, “but,” he exclaimed, “I made a friend! His name is Danny and he liked my puns! And we both have bird names!” He exclaimed all while pointing at Danny.

Batman looked from the kid in his arms to Danny, “hmm,” he grumbled. A man of few words, Batman nods at Danny.

Danny nodded back, “He’s a good kid, glad I was able to help.” Danny replied. Feeling gratitude from that small gesture alone. Batman isn't the most expressive but being able to read emotions like Danny really helps when talking to people.

Batman turns his head to look over at Danny’s superior, “hmm.” After that Batman turned and walked away.

Robin climbed to sit up on Batman’s shoulder and waved back at Danny, “Bye bird buddy! Have a good day!” He shouts as Batman enters the elevator. The doors closing behind them and leaving the zeta tube control center in near silence.

Danny looked back to his supervisor who looked as pale as a sheet ghost, Danny gave him a shit eating grin and shrugged at him. “I tried to tell ya—”

“Get back to work Nightingale!” He shouts.

“Ok, ok, I'm going.” Danny says, turning on his heels and walking away from the man with his hands held up in surrender.

—

I have so many ideas for this au and if I write more I might post it on my AO3 feel free to read other things I posted on there!

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 5 months

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"I'll see you guys later!" Eddie calls, his hips wiggling as he fake jogs to the door. Steve holds his hand up after him, Robin waves her whole arm at him, not looking away from the stove. Steve stares after him as he disappears, he hears the door open and click closed.

"You've got that dopey look on your face again." Robin says, crossing her arms and resting against the counter as she watches him. Steve turns to her, avoids her eyes and watches the steam rise from the bowl of Ramen on the countertop.

"Shut up." He grumbles.

"Just sayin. Your eyes get all shiny and your mouth literally hangs open sometimes... it's... ridiculous." She shakes her head but she looks... sad? Steve hates when she looks at him like that.

"Well-" he stops, takes a deep breath. Robin's lip twitches.

"Let it out babe. You'll feel better." She holds her hand out, twitches her fingers encouragingly.

Steve grimaces, runs his hands over his face and then jumps off the stool to his feet.

"It- it- it's just dimples! Dimples across the board Robin! I mean what am I supposed to do with that!?" He groans, his hands flailing at his sides, a habit he'd picked up from both Robin and Eddie.

"You should tell him how you feel maybe?" Robin says, he voice completely calm as she stirs her ramen slowly.

"Can you please stop suggesting that. We've established that's not a viable solution." Steve huffs, hands falling to the countertop on their small island, his shoulders tight.

"Well. No. You established that. I agreed to no such thing." Robin shakes her head, crosses her arms again.

"Steve. It's been three years. We've all lived together. For three years. You've been hopelessly in love with him. Forthree. Fucking. Years."

Steve opens his mouth to defend himself but before he can speak there's a clatter by the door and Eddie comes skidding back into the room.

"You're in love with me!?" He shouts, his eyes wide as they bounce between Robin and Steve.

"I'm out." Robin says, grabbing her bowl gently and walking away.

"Robin!" Steve calls, it sounds more like a whine but he would deny that to his grave.

"Nope." Is all he gets from her as she, uncharacteristically, gracefully dodges his reaching hands and disappears down the all into her room.

Steve turns, his mouth opening, about to apologize or backtrack or maybe cry a little, but instead finds himself with a chestful of Eddie Munson. Eddie's hands tug his hips close and then move nimbly up his sides to rest against his neck.

"Hi." Eddie says, smiling. Steve's eyes move to his cheeks, his dimples, helpless.

"Hi. I can expla- mmfph!" Eddie's lips press to his with a genlte force Steve could only associate with Eddie. His lips are soft, if a little chapped, and warm, moving gently agaisnt his. Steve lets his eyes fall closed and hums into the kiss, wraps his arms around Eddie's waist and holds him close.

"I'm in love with you too." Eddie breathes, pulls back, looks at Steve, his eyes shining with tears.

"I love you too." He breathes again, bumping his nose into Steve's.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, tilts his head and watches as Eddie dramatically clutches his chest with a teasing grimace.

"Yeah." Eddie nods, his nose scrunching. Steve bites his lip, squeezes Eddie's hips until he squirms and then pulls him close again.

"I love you." Steve says, reaching up and tucking Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"You said." Eddie sinks his teeth into his own lip and scrunches his nose again, swaying side to side, moving them both.

"Not to you. And it's nice to say it. Finally." Steve says, smiling as Eddie keeps them swaying slowly.

"Three years is a long time I guess." Eddie nods, slowly, eyes narrowing.

"What? What's that for?" Steve asks, reaching up and moving his finger over the frown lines on Eddie forehead, trailing his finger down his nose as well, making it twitch.

"Nothin just. Three years is a lot." He bites at Steve's hand as he moves it away to rest on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie's eyes move back to his face.

"But six years is longer." He mumbles it, and quickly tucks his face against Steve's neck, hugging him and holding him close.

"Wait what? Six years?" Steve frowns, tries to untangle Eddie from himself, Eddie holds on tighter.

"Eddie!" Steve huffs, manages to untangle himself and look at Eddie, who's red in the face.

"What?" He asks, sounding innocent. Like he hadn't just said what he'd said.

"Six years?" Steve asks. Eddie nods, looks at the floor.

"That was... senior year. My senior year." Steve says slowly, doing the math.

"Yeah. I was there for that." Eddie mumbles.

"I know. I just... you have not been in love with me since senior year." Steve protests, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Okay fine. Maybe not actual love. But I was infatuated. Big time." Eddie admits, rubbing at his neck.

"Dude I was miserable senior year. I had no friends. I got my fuckin heart broken. I mean I was a mess." Steve shook his head again, watched as Eddie nodded in agreement as he spoke.

"I know dude. And I know it probably says something shitty about me but... it was a good look on you." Eddie shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Misery was a good look on me?" Steve propped his hands on his hips. Eddie waves his hand at Steve, groans as he spins in a circle to get his eyes back on Steve.

"Yes man! Sorry. Not in like... ugh. I don't know. You went from pretentious douchebag to sad pretty boy. And you stopped Tommy shithead from shoving my head into a toilet one day and I dunna that sort of changed how I saw you okay?" Eddie's hands flailed, and then he clapped his hands and pointed at Steve.

"And! And and! You didn't even like... seem interested. You just told him to fuck off all nonchalant, and then you were gone, man! And then the next fucking year all that shit happened, and I saw you with the gremlins and I just... fell hard okay?" He shrugged again, rolling his eyes when he saw the grin spreading across Steve's face.

"You sat by my bed in the hospital man. What did you expect? There's only so much my little gay heart can fend off before it goes all soft and gooey." Eddie pouts at him and Steve thinks his heart might burst out of his chest.

"You never said anything." Steve says, takes a step toward Eddie.

"Yeah well. I didn't know you were into guys until very recently and I-" his hands wave at his sides, like he's helpless.

"You what?" Steve pushes, teasing now. Eddie levels him with an unimpressed look and then rolls his eyes.

"I was scared alright? Cuz if I said something, and you didn't feel the same, then I'd have ruined everything. And I don't know if you've notcied this Steve, but I kinda like having you around. And being around you." He makes a face, like it should be obvious.

"And love confessions tend to change things, between people. So I just... didn't say anything." He shrugged again, helpless again. Steve closed the distance between them quickly. Grabbing Eddie's face genlty, holding him as he stares at Steve.

"We are. So. Fucking. Stupid." Steve punctuates each word with a little shake to Eddie's head. The laugh that bursts out of Eddie as he wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close again fills their apartment like sweet music.

Steve presses kisses anywhere he can reach, along Eddie's shoulder, up his neck, across his cheeks. Eddie finally cups his cheeks and finds Steve's lips with his own.

"Honey I love you. But if you ever call yourself stupid again in my presence we're gonna have a problem you and me." Eddie mumbles, his lips still brushing Steve's as he speaks. Steve snorts and dives face first into Eddie's neck.

"Laugh all you want sweetheart. I'm serious." Eddie assures him.

"I called you stupid too ya know?" Steve sighs into Eddie's shoulder.

"Mhm. I'm allowing that. Currently." Eddie hums, his hand rubbing Steve's back as he clings to him.

"Okay. I won't. But I do really love you." Steve says, pulls back to look at Eddie. His nose scrunches again, that giddy smile back on his face.

"I really love you too." Eddie darts forward, peppers kisses across Steve's cheeks.

"Shit. You're gonna be late." Steve says, glancing at the clock on the microwave. Eddie shrugs one shoulder.

"That's alright. They'll understand. You wanna come?" He asks, squeezing Steve's hips.

"You want me to come? To your dungeon game?" Steve lifts his eyebrows.

"Okay I know you know what it's called. That's not as cute as you think it is." Eddie says. Steve leans closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie's neck makes him shiver.

"Yes it is." Steve whispers, then licks a stripe up Eddie’s cheek, and then promptly pouts when Eddie is unfazed.

"They won't care if I come?" Steve asks, wiping at the wetness he'd left behind.

"Course not. The guys love you. And they'll be fucking ecstatic that I'm not gonna be pinning about you anymore." Eddie winks, slaps Steve's butt as he reaches behind him for his keys sitting on the counter.

"You've been pinning for me?" Steve repeats, teasing, as he grabs his shoes.

"Six. Years. Steven. Yeah, you could say I was pinning." Eddie grabs his bag off the floor as Steve tugs his laces tight.

"Alright alright. But hey," Steve presses himself to Eddie's side as they reach the door.

"They're gonna wish you were still pinning by the time we're done." Steve grabs Eddie's head and presses his lips to Eddie's cheek, hard. Eddie cackles, shoots Steve a wink as he grabs his hand, and tugs him out the door.

#this is just a random lil thing i wrote simple because i saw a gifset of eddie and his dimples #it took me ages to get it....sort of okay so i hope you guys like it #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing #mine #fates endless inkwell #fei #my fic

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bambiesfics · 6 months

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⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

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