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ideaofheaven · 1 year

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— LESS SUGAR (onew x reader)

Synopsis: A playful first impression with a certain shining idol in your own coffee shop takes your life into an interesting turn. A merge of two worlds, you never expect Jinki to provide you company and comfort. But he does, all the while ordering lattes and pastries.

Pairing: Lee Jinki x fem!reader

Genre: coffee shop!au, idol!Jinki, fluff (like, lots of fluff), piniiiing, angst, smut

Word count: 17376 words (lmao its a SLOW burn)

Warnings: sakura jinki!! (Yeah it’s a warning), mentions of diet, implied depressive episodes, heavy make out, vaginal fingering, Jinki big dick agenda, domsub undertones, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie (careful folks), minors dni!

AN: Happy 525 everyone! What other perfect timing to celebrate my love for SHINee’s leader. But actually, I wrote this one almost 2 years ago now?? And I thought yeah no way this will stay in drafts forever. I just need a sweet fic for dearest Jinki, you know? Please enjoy!

+++

You empty a box of newly arrived goods. After a few considerations, maybe you should’ve arranged the displays at night when you have more time instead of in the mornings before you open the store. But they look fine as it is; the coffee grounds are lined up neatly, and the rustic decors compliment them well. Deciding the shop is all ready, you check the time. It’s only a few minutes before 7 o’clock, so you flip the wooden sign from ‘close’ to ‘open’.

Almost a year has passed since you opened your own cafe. The journey wasn’t a walk in the park. From the loans, experimenting in your apartment kitchen, and the amount of time and energy spent gathering the resources. But you made it, now owning a small cafe that can house up to fifteen customers. Often perceived as a friendly person, you managed to gather a handful of regulars.

The bell chimes, and you turn to see your regular coming in through the door. “Good morning, Eunmi!” You chirp, before noticing her gloomy visage. “You look particularly bright today. The usual?”

The regular, Eunmi, is a working woman who lives nearby with her husband. She sighs before nodding. "I only slept for a couple of hours.” She drags herself to the counter. “Do you remember that co-worker I told you about?”

She rambles on, complaining about this and that while you tinker with your coffee machine. Occasionally you laugh, but you mostly take your time to listen. Eunmi is the one who requested you to open the store earlier. Not having any problem with mornings, you happily oblige. Ever since, with a raging need for someone to vent to and a caffeine boost, she visits daily.

“You should take a day off,” you advise while finishing off the beverage. You grab the paper cup carefully, gesturing to Eunmi who’s still sitting down. “One almond caffe mocha to go.”

“I’ll think about it,” she murmurs tiredly as she gets up, dragging herself to her coffee. “I’m off, then. Thanks for the drink!”

With a wave, she leaves the cafe. There goes your early morning regular. You go back to your favorite pastime, rearranging the items on your shelf. You are contemplating putting the house blend on the front counter to replace the Vietnamese Arabica when the door chimes. Delighted, you shout, “Welcome!”

A man walks in hesitantly. At that moment, you can't possibly recognize him. He wears a mask and a baseball hat. The hoodie and the dark jeans make him appear like one of the people from your neighborhood.

What you notice is that he’s a new customer, and his eyes are... pretty.

You push the last thought aside and switch to your customer service mode. “Here’s the menu,” you gush, your voice sounding too pitchy to your ears. The man blinks at you before his gaze falls on the printed paper.

Your mind betrays you and chooses to zone in on the man before you. He’s tall. His dark brown hair stops above the nape of his neck with soft strands of fringe framing his defined heart-shaped face. Though it's hidden by the mask, you can see his high cheekbones. Despite that, you can’t help but focus on his hooded soft brown eyes. From your place behind the counter, you’ve seen many attractive people. You noticed their neat makeup, their perfectly curled hair, their luscious lips, or the way they dress. Being attracted to someone’s eyes seems incredulous. But even his eyebrows look nicely groomed.

He lifts his gaze which inevitably meets yours. Your stomach lurches in embarrassment and you stupidly let out an “oh” before putting your best smile. Please don’t notice. “What would you like to order?”

If he notices, he doesn’t show any sign. “Can I have a brown sugar latte to go?”

His voice sounds like the drink itself; warm, sweet, and syrupy. You perk up. “Great choice. Will that be all?” The man tilts his head, humming. Cute.

“Make it with an extra shot of espresso.” You’re already grabbing the pack of grounds when you respond with good humor, “Tough day ahead?” At that, he chuckles, low and bright at the same time. Warm and syrupy indeed. “Everyday is a tough day at work.”

You laugh, but perhaps the curiosity in your expression is too obvious, because the mysterious customer’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“It's tough work, but I love my job,” he says in what you perceive as teasing.

“Sure, sure,” you snicker, now pouring measured liquid brown sugar into the paper cup. You’re confident in your coffee-making skills, and you can’t wait to hear his reaction. Maybe he can join your not-so-long list of regulars.

“Brown sugar latte with double shot.” You give him the paper cup. “Enjoy!”

Another eye crinkle smile grazes his covered face. With a closer look, there’s a slight jaw movement behind his mask. “Thank you very much,” he responds and you notice the formality. “By the way, do you happen to sell any food?”

You bite the insides of your mouth. “Yes, but I only stock them later,” you explain ruefully. “The bakery usually delivers the pastries at 9 o’clock. I apologize.” You bow and he immediately raises both of his hands, waving them frantically.

“Oh, no, no, it’s okay. What do you have?”

“We have a selection of buns, scones, pound cakes, egg tarts,” you gush. “They’re all delicious. But I personally like their traditional pastries. Injeolmi, red bean rice cake, yakbap, fried tteok dumplings. Auntie does a great job every time.”

Unlike other cafes that bake their own food, you work together with the local bakery that happens to make the best traditional pastries you’ve ever tried. You know they aren’t as popular as the more western pastries, but they always pull the older customers to your cafe, even becoming your regulars.

His eyebrows shoot up all of a sudden, “You have yakbap?” He asks in apparent surprise which you mirror excitedly. “Yes! Oh my god, do you like them?” He nods. “Would you like to try? I can have them stocked tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that too much trouble?”

"Of course not. But," you emphasize. "You have to come visit tomorrow morning. Promise?” The surge of boldness takes you out of nowhere. He’s just one customer who only bought one drink, but you can’t deny the urge to see him again. So when you saw the chance, you knew you had to take it.

“I will, I promise,” he chuckles and your worries melt away, swept away by the soothing voice of his promise.

+++

At 8 o’clock, the door chimes. You almost jump from behind the counter.

“Good morning,” the man from yesterday greets you with a small bow. Today he’s wearing a dark jacket over a simple tee. Without yesterday's baggy clothes, the outfit centers on his broad shoulders well. A mask is still in place, but now without the hat, you can see more of him. At least more of his soft-looking short brown hair. A surge of familiarity rushes through you. After a quick run through your memories, your mind comes up blank. You shrug off the thought but he’s faster to notice you zoning out.

“What? I promised, didn’t I?” He mumbles, and you respond with a small laugh, “You did.”

You usher him to the counter, pulling out a small basket. “Now here’s my end of the deal.”

“What’s all this?” He glances in the basket. Inside is a handful of pastries, covered neatly in plastic wrap. “There’s so many!”

You smile proudly. “I asked the bakery for a sampler basket. So these are their best-sellers. We have a kaya bun, blueberry lemon scone, garlic basil bread, yakbap,” you wink, “fried tteok dumplings, and red bean rice cake.”

“Wait--”

“And I’ll give you a special price.” You send him another cheeky grin, and you feel triumphant when you see his resigned face.

“I didn’t expect you would prepare a whole basket… But thank you,” he sighs before breaking into one of his eye-smiles. It looks so familiar and the feeling starts to gnaw at you once more. Like reaching out to remember a dream, it feels close yet you can't come up with a name to associate his face with. You snap back to reality, hearing him say something in your direction. “Yes?”

“I’d like to have the drink from yesterday,” he states almost giddily. “It’s delicious. I thought it’d be too sweet.”

Oh. You cover a smile with the back of your hand, secretly proud of yourself. Elated, you lean in before you even know it, catching your customer's attention.

“Be sure to come back for more, then.” Right after the words leave your mouth, you recoil. You sound like you were flirting, and you don't flirt with customers.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do." You stare at him in surprise, seeing the teasing glint in his eyes. Flustered, your throat tightens.

“R-right. One brown sugar latte coming up.” Warm, sweet, syrupy… Sticky.

After finishing the latte with sprinkles of cinnamon powder on top, you put the plastic cap on and bring it to your only customer. The man is sitting in the corner, on one of the chairs that has its back on you. He's eating a piece of yakbap from a plastic wrapper when you approach the table. “Here’s-"

Perhaps, that day you forget that people eat with their mouths. Uncovered. In the end, nothing prepares you to witness the face behind the mask.

A few weeks ago, you were watching TV on your couch. One of your favorite dramas had just ended, so you were stuck watching a random variety show. Loud screams pierced your ears, making you jump so you checked the show. A couple of people were sitting at the table, and one of them, a handsome young man with light brown hair and lovely eyes, was reenacting his version of the famous Gwiyomi song. What a weird guy, you thought with a laugh while seeing him kiss each of his fingers just a little too passionately.

“- your drink,” you finish shakily. The new information almost freezes you in place but you put on your best (worst, stiff) customer service smile anyway. Defying another expectation, Onew - oh god, it is him - takes the paper cup from your hand. Your fingers touch briefly and you swear there's a jolt that tickles. The idol is staring at you with a hint of worry, indicating he knows the cat's out of the bag.

You should leave him be, he might be uncomfortable. But then, a sight of empty plastic wrappers catches your attention. "How's the food?" You inquire placidly. Creative.

The worry in his face dissipates very slightly and you realize how different he looks now without the mask. You can see the plump lips parting before he says, "You're right, they're so good."

The compliment somehow melts your worries.

"Right? They taste exactly the same since I was a child. Auntie had just started baking the western pastries a few years ago, but she’s too tired to run the bakery full-time. So I thought having her pastries in my cafe would be perfect," you stop, internally scolding yourself for rambling all that to the celebrity, "I talk too much don't I?"

"You own this cafe?" The man asks instead, his mouth gaping and eyes wide. Adorable.

"Owner, barista, waitress, slash everything," you rub the back of your neck, pressured by the questioning gaze he has on you. Without his mask, he seems more intense. Or, you are subconsciously affected by his idol status. While this is not the first time you meet a celebrity from behind the counter, it is the first time you're engaged in conversation with them. Especially with someone of a high tier like him. Someone amazing.

"That's amazing." His voice echoes, jolting you back to reality

"What?" You sputter. He definitely notices you zoning out because his smile - you can see his mouth now, oh god - is too mischievous and knowing. This is getting too much.

Rigidly, you peek into the paperbag, noticing the amount of pastries left. "What are you going to do with them?" Onew looks at the paperbag before standing up and grabbing the bag. "I'll share them with people at work."

You step back with a laugh. "Do you think they'll like it?"

"I think they will. Well, some can't enjoy it due to… a strict diet. But one won't hurt." Onew takes his coffee in one hand, and the paperbag in the other. He raises both hands slightly, gesturing with the items. "Thank you. I'll be going now."

"No,” you begin tentatively, “Thank you, Onew."

You internally pat yourself on the back for letting that out.

His ever so expressive eyebrows rise before he lets out a bark of laughter. "Well, isn't that unfair."

"What is?"

"I see you know my name already," he supplies, staring down at you with a pretty gummy smile. "But I don't know yours."

Heat rushes to your cheeks when his words sink into your brain. You would pray it wouldn't show but you find your tongue unable to form useful words. Instead, as an uncontrolled fight or flight reaction, it responds haughtily, "Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you."

You curse the random unsolicited rush of courage. But Onew's surprised expression is already morphing into a half smirk, and you can't decide if you regret it.

"Deal. I'll see you tomorrow, miss."

Exactly one minute after the door closes, you curl up on the floor and let out a groan. What just happened?

+++

Jinki knows he shouldn't be doing this.

That morning, he woke up exactly three hours before his first schedule of the day. The warm sunlight tempted him to go for a jog, but the ache crawling through his body reminded him what a bad idea that was. The day before, the dance instructor had drilled them with another wild choreography, and in the morning, his joints were positively protesting.

So he took a walk. Enjoying the sunlight, he left the rows of high-rise apartments for the quiet residential complex. The bustle of the crowded market and gossipy house-wives felt like a calming noise, and he continued his walk until he turned one corner.

Nothing should've caught his attention, but everything did. The shop's facade of pale red bricks was a splash of color in between the other buildings. A couple of vintage lantern lamps decorated the shop, and there were wooden signs with intricate lettering on the wall and glass door. Jinki realized it was a coffee shop, a small one. There and then he thought he needed his caffeine, and the nearest Starbucks was blocks away. So he went in, met the cute barista, got a delicious latte, and left.

And ever since, he keeps coming back for more.

“Someone enjoys visiting this little place,” she laughs one morning, cocky and amused. It’s his visit for the third time in a row. Borrowing her high energy and boldness, he smirks in reply.

"You’re the one who asked me, though," he mentions, holding a small cup of her manual brew. A new house blend, she had mentioned. It has a subtle sweetness to it, which Jinki likes.

"Asked what?"

"To come back here."

She chuckles, that rare hint of shyness surfacing once more. "I was just messing around."

But he wasn't, and back then, he would do anything to get to know her name. So the day after her request, Jinki returned. After an order of one brown sugar latte and five miscellaneous pastries, all to-go, Jinki sat down and propped his chin on top of his folded hands, waiting. His legs were fidgeting, a sign of anticipation and nervousness that he was well attuned with.

"Are you dining in?" She asked, probably feigning innocence, as she shuffled through various packets of coffee. What a tease.

"No," he responded curtly.

She moved away from the shelves to the edge of the counter, facing him. Oh, she's doing this on purpose. With a hand covering her mouth, she laughed silently. Jinki thought she shouldn't hide her laughter, or her smile, because it’s pretty and bright, just like her.

"I'm sorry, I owe you something, don't I?" She asked sweetly, like those drinks she makes for him.

"Yes, you do." Jinki managed out, a crooked smile gracing his lips in a low effort intimidation.

"Okay, okay," she resigned. "You should make a habit of checking the bill, Onew."

Realization hit him and he rushed to pull the bill out of his pocket. There, written in neat handwriting, was a name. In awe, he said it once, testing it on his tongue—and he heard a crash.

"Oh--oops," she clambered to grab the fallen coffee packages. Jinki was wondering how attached this woman was to her coffee supply before he took a glance at her face. Pink tinted her cheeks and he wouldn't lie, it was a sight to see. Presumably annoyed, she was about to say something but Jinki just called her name once more, abruptly stopping her. So he raised his chin, taking a better look at the flustered barista with a satisfactory smile, “Everything okay back there?”

She nodded once before turning away, cheeks still flaming as she broke their eye contact. He just laughed. Cute.

Today, he finds himself once more in front of her store. Earlier, he found out Minho already had plans to visit his mother, and so, Jinki was left alone in the dorms. He's used to being alone in the apartment, but today he has a particular yearning to be somewhere else but home.

"Onew," she greets, ever so cheerful in the mornings. "The usual?"

Despite the merciless schedule in his line of work, Jinki hasn't met a lot of morning people. Especially the ones who are comfortable with an early schedule by nature. It took him years after debuting before his internal alarm worked properly. And after hundreds of cranky morning schedules, he finally could manage his mood well. She must have been born with the sun smiling upon her. Perhaps that is her destiny, to wake up effortlessly and share her energy through caffeinated beverages. Jinki has an urge to ask if she ever stays up late, maybe later.

"Actually, can I have an iced americano?" Jinki asks after a quick glance at the menu. This time he needs something with less sugar.

She is beaming, as usual. "Sure. But I recommend you drink it fast, it's warm outside—"

"I'm having it here." Jinki already grabs a seat, putting his bag and pulling out a book. Her expression is a mixture of confusion and delight. "...Is it okay?"

"Of course!" She exclaims all too fast before rushing to her tools.

An amicable silence stretches. Hisses and clamor from behind the counter occasionally fill the air, but otherwise it's quiet. After endless days in a loud environment, he appreciates the silence. He can’t remember the last time he sat still like this, without TV or a Youtube video to accompany him. He takes his book, a best-selling novel he picked up from the airport months ago during his work trip, and starts reading it. When his iced americano arrives, he thanks her properly and dives back into the story.

It's peaceful. At some point, she puts on music. Slow to medium-tempo songs in foreign languages, and it doesn't disrupt his reading, in fact, he enjoys it.

During his stay, customers come and go. He can't see them, because his back is facing the major part of the cafe. But he can hear them clearly. And interestingly, they talk a lot. One customer, a young girl, comes up to you, gets a large glass of iced chocolate milk, and proceeds to tell you about her crush. Another, an elderly man who apparently visits regularly, orders one hot barley tea and a red bean paste bun. Then he starts to give her updates on his newborn grandchild. Jinki hears her squeal before she asks for the man’s wife or daughter.

He finds all the interaction endearing, somehow.

"So, what's the occasion?"

The sun is now high up in the sky, signalling it's nearing noon. Jinki was feeling tiny pricks of hunger when she appeared near his table, a few tupperware in hand. "It gets lonely," she said cheekily. With each little talk they exchange, Jinki wonders why he didn’t ask her to sit here earlier, enjoying her company very much. And not before long, she offered some of her food to him, which he accepted with little resistance.

“You’ve never dined in before, what’s the occasion?”

Jinki takes one slice of rolled omelet with his chopsticks. "It's my day off," he answers.

"You have a day off, and you came here?" She looks up from her food and gapes at him. He nods.

"The apartment's empty, Minho is visiting his parents."

"It must be lonely."

"Not anymore,” he responds in earnest, and a grin emerges when he sees her fluster. Jinki is not a prideful person. He doesn’t absorb compliments like it’s his source of energy. However, knowing he can affect people like this, especially in such tight interaction, does boost his ego in a productive way. Additionally, he enjoys seeing her reaction. She’s very put together, confident, sometimes cheeky, but those rare moments when she gets caught off guard charm him. It’s like her fire turns into cotton candy, all cute and sweet.

Jinki can’t get enough of her.

“Is that one of your killer moves, Onew-ssi?” She says, hiding her strangled laugh by raising her chin with defiance. But he knows better. See? Charming.

He puts his chopstick down, and proceeds to lean his head on one knuckle. The gesture seems to affect her, because her smile falls and she’s blinking rapidly at him. “No, it’s not," he states before an idea pops into his head. "Call me Jinki."

Her mouth falls open. “What?”

“Please call me Jinki.”

He watches as she gapes wordlessly, like a cat got her tongue. In the end, she just nods softly, saying a quiet “Okay,” with a bashful whisper of his name. Hearing it, Jinki can’t help the giddiness bubbling inside him and a smug smile that graces his lips. His name sounds pretty on her tongue, and he immediately knows he will want to hear it more.

Jinki thinks maybe that is his killer move.

+++

To have a celebrity coming back to your cafe, and getting to know them is an oddly enjoyable experience.

One morning Onew--no, Jinki arrives with all his attention on his phone. He’s typing furiously before craning his neck to see you. “(Y/n),” he says in an exaggerated whine, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting comically cute, “Kibum is being mean to me. He said we can’t hang out today. I’m so sad. I need my sad coffee so can you please get me a--”

“Jinki, don’t--”

“A despresso?”

“Oh my god,” you sigh audibly, a fond grin in place, making him snicker as he rubs the back of his head.

"Get it? Like espresso but depress-"

"Yes, Jinki. I get it."

Every time Jinki visits, you enjoy his company. Granted, he’s not the type to talk much, and when he does, he always manages to surprise you. You don’t know what’s worse, his dad jokes, or the fact that he’s not aware how much he’s driving you crazy. Does he know his teasing words can be wrongly interpreted as flirting? Does he know he looks good in even worn out shirts? Does he know you start to think he's been coming here not only for the coffee? With that being said, you weren’t prepared for Jinki’s presence in close proximity almost everyday.

"Whatcha' doing?" Jinki asks, his face leaning over the high counter, peeking into your workspace. His mask is off, and like his perfect face is not distracting enough, he's wearing a black sweater that snug nicely on his body. You notice how broad his shoulders are, or how his collarbones look so prominent, hanging above defined pecs. Focus, you have a job.

"I'm trying to make a new drink," you reply, measuring in teaspoons of the powder you prepared. You take the recently bought bamboo whisk to mix the powder. New tools in the kitchen always get you excited, especially if it’s your first time using it. "Do you know hojicha?"

He tilts his head, thinking, and you wonder if it's necessary for him to jut his lower lips like that. "No. Is it Japanese?"

"Mmhm, it's Japanese roasted green tea.” You start whisking the water and the hojicha powder, and Jinki gawks. As the mixture gets frothy, you elaborate. "I've been wanting to try to make it, maybe someone will be interested." Grabbing another cup, you mix the diluted powder and the milk, the ash-colored tea mixture turning the milk into gray-ish brown. "They say it tastes best with milk."

"Ah, really?" Without a warning, Jinki shots one hand forward, taking the glass from your nimble hand. You yelp at the sudden movement. He then takes a big gulp, craning his neck to drink it properly and you can't take your eyes off of his Adam's apple as it moves with each gulp, and the veins running on his neck. Shit. He pulls the glass away, and using his other hand, he wipes his mouth. Your throat goes dry.

Unaware of your struggle, he hums, "It's good. Bitter, but good.”

Shaking yourself back to reality, you take a deep breath. "I was about to say I hadn't put the sugar in."

"I think you don’t need it. Or just put a little," he grins, gesturing the aforementioned amount with his index finger and thumb, a small distance lingers between them. His fingers are pretty, you think absentmindedly. His other hand puts the empty glass back onto the counter. "You're really good at this."

At that, your heart swells with pride. "Of course, I don't want my customers to go."

"Me as well?"

"You as well,” you state, genuine. You can tell him that as much. “My early morning was never this fun."

Jinki snorts. “Me? Fun?” He asks, pointing a finger at himself. “People say I’m weird.”

“No offense, Jinki, I didn’t say you’re not weird.” The man barks a laugh and you join in. “But that’s what makes you fun. You're not boring."

Not for the first time, you witness his expression turn sheepish, almost shy and awkward. His fingers fidget behind his folded arms. But he quickly recovers, waving off your compliment.

"What about the other customers?"

The question perks your attention. "I have the best regulars," you reply, thinking of all your customers and their anecdotes. "I love talking to them."

"They seem to like gossiping with you."

"They do! Jinki, they talk a lot. There's this lady who will order parfaits only when she's upset or having a fight with her boyfriend. And also the working man who usually comes in evenings, he always asks if I serve alcohol. It's really hilarious—"

"But you always listen to them."

"Of course I do. Like I said, I love talking to them, I really do. Granted, mostly I just listen to them venting out their problems. But I guess it helps and my beverages too - " you stop yourself. "Sorry. D-did I bore you?"

"No, not at all," he answers, short and fast and most definitely teasing. "I enjoyed it. Come on, tell me more." Jinki is still leaning on the counter. His head is in his propped hand, eyes crinkling in amusement, and his plump lips are curling into a soft smile that makes your heart race. You feel warmth crawling on your cheeks.

"Don't say that. Gosh, that was embarrassing." You're still trying to hide your face behind your hands when a large palm lands on your head. You look up, and see Jinki who has straightened his back to full height, looming over you. Then, his hand is in your hair, ruffling it playfully.

"Cute," Jinki coos with a smile that shows his brilliant teeth and melts your insides into goo. After messing with your hair, he pulls his hand back and you swear his fingers brush past your cheekbones, the touch eliciting shivers down your spine. Unbothered, Jinki goes on his merry way and continues talking about random things as if nothing happened.

The audacity.

+++

"Alright, spill, what's up."

Eunmi's voice pulls you back to reality. Smell of food floods your senses, sweet and sour from kimchi and vinegar, and you remember your lunch with Eunmi. You look at your friend who's grabbing her spoon with a slight annoyance clear on her face.

"What? Nothing," you insist, diving back to your buckwheat noodles to avoid her piercing stare. She tsks at you, not buying the excuse.

"Nothing my ass, you've been staring at the pickles this whole time."

You're not in your cafe, in fact, you close it up for a while to have lunch out. Eunmi invited you to a restaurant near her office, only one station away from the store. It’s a cozy diner that’s not too crowded or loud, so you can talk comfortably. Eunmi brings her own car, and promises to drive you back after lunch.

The fact that even Eunmi realizes your weirdness makes you startled. You listen to her a lot, but it’s never the opposite case. You know your friend well enough to understand she won’t usually catch up on your mood swings, especially because you’re not the kind of person who shows your emotion on your sleeves. But that man just won’t leave your mind, not after driving you crazier with each passing day. Jinki keeps coming over, all smiles and charms and never forgetting to compliment you and your drinks.

And for whatever reason, you always end up talking about yourself for a good amount of time. That never happened before, not before him. You prefer to listen, and you do that well. But with Jinki, rarely does he ramble to you, instead it’s the other way around. Without a doubt, you’re getting too comfortable with him. And how can you not? He’s humble, polite, his smile lights up the whole room, and he looks like that. All soft brown hair and handsome.

"I know that face," Eunmi interrupts your trail of thoughts, her face beaming with mischief. You blink your eyes. That can’t be good. "There's someone, isn't there?"

"What? No!"

"Nu-uh, you can't fool your unnie. You’re smiling like a teenager just now,” she teases while grabbing another spoonful of her dried pollack soup.

You splutter. “I-I did?”

“So, who is it? Come on, tell me something. My coworkers suck and I need some drama."

Cursing your luck, you grumble. Eunmi must be very perceptive to recognize the look on your face. But telling her about Jinki is impossible. You won’t be able to get away by saying “I think Onew from SHINee has been flirting with me non-stop.” It’s going to be a mess--no, a mess would be an understatement.

You take a deep breath, “It’s complicated, okay?”

"Tell me about it." Eunmi snorts.

“I can’t tell you just yet.”

She stares at you directly. “But?”

“It’s just…” You begin, hand already moving to cover your mouth, as if it could help you from the massive embarrassment you feel while discussing this. “I don’t know if I’m reading things correctly,” then, “Like, what if I’m wrong?”

“So you don’t know if he’s into you, or he’s just being nice.”

"Exactly!” you gasp.

She suddenly smirks, leaning back against the chair, "That's easy, just make a move."

"Make a move?"

"Yeah, make a move,” she repeats easily, “Do something similar to what he did to you, and see his reaction. Maybe he's just waiting."

You ponder upon her advice. It’s solid, and actually doable. Albeit unsure, you keep it in mind. "Alright, I’ll try.”

You finish your lunch and go back to the cafe. Eunmi, being the best combination of a friend and a customer, requests a chocolate marshmallow frappe before she returns to her office. Back to your usual place behind the counter, and Eunmi on the chair, she tells you about her vacation plan.

“A long weekend trip with your husband? That’s amazing!” You exclaim to Eunmi who’s radiating happiness.

Eunmi slurps at her drink, humming pleasantly from the sweetness. “Mm-hm,” she responds, the joy radiating from her is a refreshing sight compared to the usual gloom. “We’re going to Damyang.”

“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, patting the older woman’s shoulder. “So you’re leaving tomorrow?”

She nods. “Finally, a time off from those douchebags.”

You laugh, remembering her stories of the god-awful co-workers, then a jingle halts you.

“Oh, welcome!” You say and immediately feel your stomach drop as you see Jinki. Shit, the timing is so bad. Jinki rarely comes in the afternoon, what's up with the rare occurrence? And just by scanning his clothes, you’re more baffled, because today's outfit today is more extreme than usual. He’s wearing one of his worn out track pants and regular trainers.The grey jacket looks okay but he’s wearing the hoodie over a snapback. You can’t see even a strand of his hair. By default, his mask is also on, so you’re not too worried about him being recognized by Eunmi.

Jinki makes his order, glancing at you with sharp eyes, something he doesn’t usually do because you already know his usual menu. You just respond formally before dashing to where your drink machine is at, from the corner of your eye you see him taking a seat near the corner. Not long after, Eunmi’s face is in front of you, worried.

“He looks sketchy,” she whispers in a rush. Jinki? Sketchy? You bit your lip, trying to hold your blank expression in place, instead of the urge to grin.

“Really? I think he’s been here before, though.”

“How can you recognize him? This guy’s all covered from head to toe, (Y/n). It’s so creepy. I hope your man doesn't look like that."

You almost choke on air. Internally you're praying Jinki didn't hear the last part. “Right, right.” You peek at Jinki with a bothered expression, crafted meticulously to deceive Eunmi. You're definitely going to tease Jinki about this later. “I’ll be careful.”

Eunmi grabs her plastic cup before hoisting the bag up her shoulder. She points her manicured nails at you. “You better be, ‘cause I have to go now. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

“I will, don’t worry,” you smile at your customer. Eunmi waves at you, gives a pointed look at Jinki’s back, and goes out of the store. As soon as the door closes, you slump on your post, letting out a loud and exaggerated sigh. You turn your sight to Jinki and find him facing you in his chair. The shit-eating grin on his face makes you more tired.

"Don't get closer, (Y/n)," he acts out, and you're already rolling your eyes. "I might bite."

You blow a raspberry while striding towards his table, a drink in hand. "Sure, sure, can't trust strangers who wear too many hoodies all the time," you grumble, putting Jinki's iced americano on the table.

The man has the audacity to pout at you in retaliation. "Not all the time."

You giggle. "What's the occasion, then?"

"Nothing." He slurps the black coffee, nonchalant and ridiculously bad at lying.

Baffled, you glare at the man who keeps drinking the beverage without care. With another brief observation, you note his outfit is actually not that different than usual. But he never wears a hoodie and a snapback. You can't even see his hair.

Oh.

“I get it!” You clap your hands excitedly as if you’re a seal. “It’s your hair, isn’t it?”

Jinki hisses through gritted teeth, forcing a crooked grin while his eyes are already looking away from yours. Bingo.

“Is it a new color? Did you cut it short?”

Mischievously, Jinki puts a finger in front of his plump lips. “Company secret.”

You pout, and he chuckles. The mischief in his face is annoying yet somehow innocent, you can't bring yourself to get mad at him. It doesn’t help that he looks positively entertained by his own game of guess. But you're ever the curious one, and seeing there's no other customer right now, you have to find out what's behind the hat.

Without much thought, you swat a hand at his snapback, tipping everything that's covering his head backwards.

"Hey!"

As if in slow motion, the hood of his jacket is pushed back, and the hat falls to the floor. Anticipation builds up in your mind when you realize you’re about to see the hair. You hear Jinki yelp, and—

"It's pink!" You gasp out, overwhelmed. Out of all things, you didn't expect to find a mop of mauve pink colored hair underneath the hat. The shade is slightly muted, making it look less artificial. For some reason, it fits Jinki so well. His lightly tanned skin and the hair combined creates an exotic appearance of him.

Jinki is now pouting again, jutting out his lower lip like the hair is a punishment. "I wanted to surprise you, you know."

You tut at him, but leans down to take Jinki's cap off the floor, dusting it slightly. "How long would I have to wait?"

"Uh, until the comeback?"

"You haven't even announced the date," you reply with an unamused expression.

Jinki chuckles. "That's true." Out of a sudden, he poses. "Ta-da! Now you know I have pink hair." The sight brings warmth, because gosh, he's a sight to see. Then, with a huff, Jinki twirls the locks of the aforementioned hair, playing it around. "It's my first time, too."

You, however, are not paying attention to what he's saying. Questions pop into your head, wondering if Jinki’s hair feels soft like how it looks right now. With the lighting in your store interior, combined with warm natural light from the outside, the hair color looks chrome-like. It’s, no pun intended, shiny. All of a sudden, you feel a strong urge to touch it, curious how it will feel against your fingertips. Albeit hesitant, Eunmi’s words echo in your ears, motivating you to test the waters.

Leaning down, you ignore Jinki’s confused gaze and pull a lock of the sakura-colored hair. Your hunch is proven correct, it’s soft and luscious. As if in entrance, you caress more of his teresses, moving them out of his eyes while your fingertips occasionally graze his ear. You’re positively jealous of the care that goes into this man’s hair. It’s so soft, you want to pet it all day. Jinki can lay his head in your lap and you’ll definitely caress his hair all day long without a single complaint. The thought makes you giddy.

Your silly daydream is abruptly stopped when a large hand closes around your wrist, gentle yet firm. Realizing what you’ve done, you yelp.

“I’m sorry, I just--” You look down from the mop of hair to Jinki’s eyes, wide and as surprised as you. The close proximity catches you off guard. When did you lean in this close?

All of a sudden, every word dies in your throat. But his next words bring more surprise.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Y-yes?"

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Jinki cuts through the endless chatter running in your head. That’s not a question you ask out of nowhere, isn’t it? His voice, as usual, is warm… syrupy, but there’s a darker edge in it that you can’t comprehend. You blink at the question, still mute from the shock.

As if shocked by his own question, he visibly gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing and stealing your attention for a second.

“That customer said something about your man.” he murmurs reluctantly. Realization hits you hard, and your jaw drops. So he did hear your conversation with Eunmi.

“No!” You blurt in a rising panic. “There’s no man. No boyfriend.” With each word, your voice becomes more quiet, the embarrassment sucking away your confidence in front of him. But It doesn't help that Jinki’s scrutinizing you from under his eyelashes, making you shrink even more. Finally, the corners of his lips quirk up.

“Really?” He asks, sounding pleased.

"Yeah. She's just teasing me. She does that a lot," you explain with a nervous laugh. You don't know how convincing your lie is, but it makes him hum, the sound is like music to your ears.

“Good,” he whispers before you feel his thumbs rubbing circles on your wrist, languid and relaxed. The calluses of his thumb drag against your smooth skin and you inhale sharply, feeling ripples of heat course through your body from the touch. His half-lidded eyes are now assessing you and you can’t look away as they move on to your lips. As if falling under a spell, the action triggers you to spontaneously look at his lips in turn, full and parted and driving you crazy.

A loud voice jolts you two back to reality. A ringtone. Phone call.

Jinki lets go of your wrist, now panicking and patting his pockets. "It's mine. Where is it, where is it..." When he finds the phone, he picks it up while standing up. "Yes, hyung?"

You see him walk away with clouded senses. Unable to pick which feeling is appropriate to express, disbelief or relief, you give up and run away from the premises, choosing to bury yourself behind the workspace.

+++

"How did it go with your man?" Eunmi asks, face literally glowing after her vacation.

You only groan in reply.

+++

It's closing time.

Moving on to the table top surfaces, you take a cloth, spraying it with a liquid cleaner and getting it ready to wipe the surface. It's going to take a while, but you don't mind. Cleaning makes your mind wander, but at least you're doing something productive.

It's one of the nights you stay late to tidy up new items and play around in the kitchen. You had finished the second attempt of an earl grey frappe before you began tidying up. The clock struck 10 o'clock a few minutes ago, so it's already an hour after your closing time. You already flipped the sign to close, but your lights are still on, intending to turn them off when you leave the store.

Days had passed after that weird confrontation with Jinki. The close proximity you shared that day still brings you heat and confusion in equal amounts, and Jinki didn't make it easier for you to get through the following days. You never addressed that day, not at all. But do things go back to normal? Not exactly.

Jinki keeps getting closer to you. You notice the brush of his fingers against your skin while passing his drink, when you talk on his table he'd tap your arm, or when he's about to leave he likes to give a playful squeeze on your shoulders. On rare occasions, he would tuck your hair out from your face while smiling sweetly before rucking the tresses into a mess. Unhelpful. In addition, you can’t stop talking to him. The man has an excellent capability to extract words from you, asking things about yourself, from your favorite drink to your life before this cafe.

With the comeback date getting close, it’s not surprising when he doesn’t visit as often anymore. Once in a few days he’d come through your door and then scream your name, saying a nonsensical “I miss you!” Little did he know you share the same sentiment, but multiplied and definitely lack the jest.

With his absence, your heart longs more for him. You realize the intangible distance between the two of you has decreased, and you can’t suppress your feelings anymore. It’s silly to fall for an idol, cliche, even. But with his soft demeanor and warm smile that always graces his heart-shaped face, it’s impossible not to.

Despite the admittance of feelings, you’re still in a limbo. You’re not an expert in love. Chasing your dream from a young age, you have no time for romance. You’ve had a fair share of crushes here and there, but never this complicated. It’s impossible to ask for advice, too.

Remembering Eunmi's words, you did make your move on Jinki. And his response was something you never quite get. Did he hate it when you touched his hair? Can you even consider making a move that time a success? Do you even know what success would be like? Many times you stopped yourself from touching him again, whether it’s his hair (which is still bright pink, by the way), or to grab his hand for whatever reason. You’re so drawn to him, like a moth to flames and it’s making you helpless.

By the time you finish polishing the last inch of the counters, the door jingles. An annoyed sigh escapes your mouth, someone doesn’t read the sign on your store. You turn to the door.

"I'm sorry, we're already closed—"

Upon recognizing the visitor, your heart beats faster with surprise and inexplicable yearning. You haven’t seen him in days, and you already forgot what he sounds like. He’s wearing another random baseball hat, but the usual mask is absent. His lips are turned into a frown, his brown eyes, usually so full of life, are unfocused, and the eyebags look prominent. The unusual state makes your stomach twist with discomfort.

"Jinki?” You take a step closer. “It's very late."

The mention of his name jerks him back to reality. Raising his head, his gaze locks with yours wearily. Tentatively, he opens his mouth, trying to get words out, but nothing comes out and he looks away, looking so defeated. Running by instincts, you step closer to him, pulling him by the wrist to drag him in. Now with him standing close to you, you can see the tiredness on his face. The little freckles on his skin are like constellations of stars, you notice he’s not wearing makeup, and you can’t help but find the mole on his chin endearing. He looks so beautiful, but tired.

"Jinki," you call out again, worry lacing each word. "Are you okay?"

As if on cue, Jinki lets out a quiet sigh that makes your heart drop. He doesn’t sound like the usual Jinki you know, and you immediately receive the answer to your question. Gathering your courage, you put a hand on his broad shoulder, and take the other to pull his hat off in order to take a closer look at him. You succeed without any restraint from the man. Then, you rub your hand on the fabric of his shirt, trying to give some sort of reassurance, for what, you don’t know yet, but you’re trying. You see Jinki’s eyes glint for a second, and suddenly a head thumps against your collarbone. Oh. Your hands stop moving, and his hat falls to the floor soundlessly.

Jinki sighs again, this time his warm breath fanning over your clothed shoulder, making you freeze even more. Your head is filled with nothing but the close distance you share with Jinki. His forehead presses firmly on your shoulder, the weight starts to feel heavy, so you stand tall, pushing against the man who’s significantly taller and larger than you, with your hands hanging awkwardly by your sides.

"...It's difficult." You hear him whisper.

You try to peek at him, but all you can see is his soft pink locks. It looks fluffy, despite the hat covering it before, if not slightly damp. Quietly, you inhale his scent, floral and musky but mostly covered by the smell of sweat. It must be from a dance practice. For some reason, you don’t mind it.

"I know my limits, and I've been doing this for years," he murmurs into your shoulders, voice weak and slightly muffled but you still can hear every word. "But it really doesn't get easier."

The words hang in the silent air, with no one speaking afterwards. Deciding to stay and listen, you let him there on your shoulder. Questions run through your head, along with many emotions you’ve never felt before for the man; pity, worry, adoration, and surprise, but you don't dare to speak or ask. Not in such vulnerability.

The next minute runs slowly, and the only thing you can hear in the empty cafe is you and Jinki’s breathing. You hope yours doesn’t sound too fast, but you try to ignore the self conscious thoughts for now.

Suddenly, Jinki tenses and pulls himself away, straightening his back that’s been hunching to reach your height. With his face bare from any makeup, you can see a light flush on his cheeks, and his ears are pink, adorably matching with the hair. He's devastatingly beautiful, and you can’t help but stare in awe. Still drowning in embarrassment, he doesn’t seem to notice.

"I'm very sorry," he whispers, formal all of a sudden, voice still close.

"It's okay." You pat his back with a smile, hoping to cease his groundless embarrassment. "You don't need to apologize, I don't mind."

Jinki looks at you for a moment, mouth parted and eyes expressing an emotion you don’t quite understand, then they turn to crescents as he smiles softly.

"Really?" He asks, voice surprisingly even, a contrast to the state he was in before, and nimbly you nod. "Can I borrow your shoulder again, then?"

Oh. "Y-yeah." Your stomach does the twisty thing and when Jinki once again lays his head on your shoulder, you can hear your heartbeat going faster, thumping softly in your ears. For god's sake, you hope Jinki won't be able to hear or worse, feel them. Without a warning, Jinki shifts his head to the side, and--is he nuzzling? You swear that’s the tip of his nose touching your neck and now there’s puffs of air caressing your veins.

This is too much. It's your first time being this close with him, and it's not the best time to have physical reactions from this intimacy. Ignoring the shivers crawling on your skin, you will yourself to stay still, and even your breathing.

The two of you stay there. Again, you hear Jinki's breathing, then you hear your own. You’re not a physically affectionate person, but all you wish right now is to embrace him properly, to stroke his back and let him stay there for as long as he needs.

So you do that, you raise a hand to his head, caressing his pink tresses. Almost greedily, he leans into your touch, as if he's been waiting for it. With a fond sigh, you can't hold yourself from ruffling his hair further.

“You’ve worked hard.”

Maybe those words won’t be enough, but you find no fault in trying.

You hear Jinki inhale sharply, then he exhales in resignation before pulling back. He’s now standing at his full height, and you have to raise your head to see him properly. Relief blossoms when you catch his calm expression. With that, you share a moment of comfortable silence, exchanging unsaid words through intangible mediums. Then, you pat his shoulder twice before moving away from his personal space.

“Sit down, I’ll make you tea,” you declare to the now panicking man, rustling to get the kettle. Jinki's face is glowing, despite the lack of makeup. He looks animated, tired, but breathtaking. It's almost like you're seeing him in a new light.

"I thought you're already closing up," he complains weakly, and you offer him an innocent smile, pulling one tea bag from the box.

The sound of a chair being pulled is your winning declaration.

"You don’t have to.”

"And you have to drink some tea. Chamomile can help you sleep better," you chide, bringing the cup to the table. As you sit down, you see him fiddling with his hands.

"So… How's your day?"

"Like usual," you shrug. "But less fun without you." His face lights up and you stifle a laugh. "I made an earl grey frappe, but it still needs something."

"A new drink? Can I try?"

You smile widely. "I'll make it for you next time."

"Make sure you don't put too much sugar in it," he winks, and it prompts a laugh from you. Jinki looks better now, more refreshed and light but you catch him zoning out a few times, his gaze seemingly focusing on your face, making you squirm internally.

"What?" You ask, noticing him staring at you again. And he just grins, showing off the adorable gummy smile.

"Nothing." And he's back to his tea. By the time he empties his glass, he offers to wash it by himself. You almost drag his hoodie to stop him, but you finally relent - he already rushes to the sink, that man - and lets him do what seems to be one of his ways to thank people. Relieved, you start to recognize his usual self once more, so you join him with a lighter heart.

You’re taking off your apron when you notice a solemn expression on his face.

“How are you getting home?” He asks.

"I take the bus from the main street, then I walk for a few blocks."

His face turns dark. "Every night?"

You blink at him, searching the issue. “Yeah.”

"Let me drive you home," he declares, walking to your side. "It's already late."

"It's not my first time going home this late, it's fine."

His eyebrows furrow. "No it's not." Much to your surprise he gently takes your hand in his, like he’s hesitant. After seeing no discomfort from your part, he squeezes. “Please, let me drive you home.”

You know you can’t say no, the sincere concern in his face melting your resistance. You simply nod, requesting a few minutes to turn off the lights and pack your bag. He complies before preparing to leave the store first.

"I park my car near the convenience store.”

"The one in the main street, right?" He affirms, and stops. Confused, you wait until he leans closer. He ruffles your hair, messing with it playfully. You yelp a complaint while he laughs, and suddenly, he puts his snapback on top of your head.

With that, he leaves the store to prepare the car.

The gesture leaves you reeling, so you hold the cap to ground yourself. Belatedly, you realize this is going to be the first time you go out with Jinki outside of the comfort of your store. You know it’s nothing big, but it feels new, and exciting. And he’s going to drive you home, the gesture feels too intimate.

Arriving at the main street, you catch a sight of a black car parking near the convenience store. Right by its side is Jinki, waiting for you. He notices your form walking towards him and immediately opens the passenger door for you. Seeing you gawk, he grins.

“Come on,” he says, leading you closer with his hand on your lower back. The action makes you warm inside. You go inside the car wordlessly, and he joins in.

Maybe it's because of how late it is. Perhaps tea does have a good amount of caffeine. Regardless, the two of you are way too lively, especially after a long day of work. Jinki keeps playing random R&B songs and almost plays SHINee’s new song by accident, eliciting a gasp from the man and a delighted squeal from you. You keep telling him the directions, and the car strolls from amidst tall buildings to the residential area, where there are only smaller apartments and condos. He takes the final turn, and you excitedly point at one building, your apartment building. It’s a humble one, but you like how the location is far from dangerous areas of the city, and it’s neat. When Jinki finally parks the car, both of you whoop a drunk-like yaaay! while still laughing at each other.

Jinki gets out of the car first, humming sweetly, and you follow suit, the quietness of your neighborhood contrasts deeply with how loud it was inside the car. But it's a nice and welcomed contrast.

You skip to the staircase to the lobby, and you notice Jinki following you before he stops right before the first stair step. Turning towards him, you're not unfazed by the ever present smile on his handsome face.

The high energy you both share simmers down, turning into a calm and light atmosphere. Surrounded by comfortable silence, you drink in the sight of him, a man that's shining so bright even in the middle of the night, on a sidewalk. However, the moment must come to an end.

"Thank you for driving me home."

"No," Jinki begins, looking straight at you with his dark eyes. "Thank you, (Y/n)."

"Don't mention it," you giggle. Realizing the item on your head, you take it off, offering it to him. "Your hat."

He waves it off. "Keep it until I see you again."

You only grip the snapback since it doesn't look like he's giving you another option. So you nod before taking a deep breath. "Alright then, good night." You exhale, disappointment creeps within your words, unnoticed.

"Wait."

You're about to turn towards the lobby to climb the stairs when his hand grabs yours and unceremoniously pulls you to him. There's a short moment of clarity and your five senses heighten, noticing his smell, his presence and—His lips press unto yours, soft and slightly chapped, you note in a daze. Warm rush of joy fills you, and you're about to return the kiss when he pulls back, the sight of him leaving you speechless. If he was glowing before, now he looks like the sun, all warm smiles and overwhelmingly bright. Even in the dark his pink hair paints an unreal picture. Catching you off guard, he leans in to plant another kiss, this time on your cheek, your disappointment is too apparent because he’s chuckling softly when he drags his lips to your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers hotly, eliciting pleasant shivers down your spine. Leaning back, he waves innocently, gesturing at you to get into the building. Speechless and flabbergasted, you give a small bow before practically running towards your apartment.

That night, you plop onto the bed feeling giddy like a teenager. Your mind wanders to Jinki, and Jinki only, from how he visited you tonight, how his breath feels against your skin, his laugh, his silly pink hair, and - the kiss. After a glance at his hat, which you hang near your bed side, you giggle into your pillow, looking forward to seeing the man tomorrow.

Little do you know you're not going to see him again.

+++

Days pass.

The door to your cafe stays silent at 8 o'clock. There is no sight of a tall man in oversized clothes and mask, no sight of his sakura-colored hair. Ignoring the pang in your chest, you hope he's doing okay at work.

But days turn into weeks, and you know he won't be coming back. You hear news about SHINee's comeback, how successful it is and how all the members look mesmerizing and more handsome than ever. You also hear rumors about a certain man. The news say they spotted him a few times with a female, starting from them getting coffee together, to the more recent one, a picture in which the female had her hands in the crook of his elbow, both of them were smiling, clearly head over heels towards each other. People say they look good together, an idol and a famous actress. Even the fans are supportive of their presumed relationship, saying it's about time their oppa settles down with someone good enough for them.

That day, your heart breaks into pieces.

You drown yourself in work. The auntie from your regular bakery comes over to send you a variation of new cakes, asking about the customer behind regular orders of her traditional pastries. With a strained smile, you say he’s out of town, skillfully lying to the lady, and you don’t know when he will return - this time you’re telling the truth, bitter and a hard pill to swallow. The older lady pats your back, a sad look on her face, everything takes time, my dear, she says with a very knowing gaze. You swallow down a cry, unwilling to be seen so emotionally naked in front of her or anyone else, so you tell her you'll visit her tomorrow. Eunmi knows something's wrong. You hide emotions behind your cheerful self but she recognizes a broken hearted person anywhere, especially when it's her friend. So she takes you out to a pocha - a street vendor - near the neighborhood trying to wash away your pain with eo muk tang and soju. Having quite the high tolerance, you can't even drunkenly spill your secrets to her. But loosened up from alcohol, you tell her about your expectations and how it hurts you. You're grateful for her, nonetheless.

Weeks turn into months. The cold season melts into spring, a season too famous for blossoming love and all that bullshit. You never see him again, not on the news, not in person. He becomes a figment of your memory, a shadow that never fully comes into a tangible form that you can touch, or even gaze at. You toss and turn at night, trying to forget a man who managed to capture your heart, then breaks it mercilessly. You want to punish yourself for missing him, longing to hear his warm voice, his sweet laugh, and how happy he made you feel.

+++

It’s one of your bad days.

Granted, you haven’t been in your best state for months now, but you never let it bother your daily routine. Today, however, is just not your day. You wake up with a dreadful feeling in your stomach, like you’re walking on thin ice. So you wash it down with a cup of triple espresso, letting the caffeine induce faux energy in your veins.

Now you're in the bathroom of your cafe, glaring at your reflection in the mirror. You apply more lip tint and you discover it does improve your appearance, now you're less pale, much to your relief.

"With all due respect, (Y/n), you look like shit" was what Eunmi said to you before she left for her job. Grumbling, you give in and finally fix your appearance in the bathroom. Deeming yourself presentable - in fact, you look good, your hair's on point, you note with a grin - you leave the bathroom.

You see a figure standing in the middle of your cafe.

And he is awfully familiar.

Unbidden, a wave of anger hits you. Clenching your fist, you eye the man has been haunting your mind almost every single night. A shadow that somehow has taken his form, now.

"(Y/n)," he stammers. His voice is like a wake-up call, reviving a ghastly affection that you pushed down in your heart. You always like hearing your name on his tongue, luscious and teasing, but it never sounds this bleak.

Jinki looks different, the most apparent change is his hair, which is now dark brown, reminiscent of the first time you meet him. When was that again? Half a year ago? His fringe is slightly longer, a bit wavy and it fits him so well. Begrudgingly you admit his beauty did not fade, he's still as handsome as ever, if not more, and his cheekbones are more prominent, giving him a sharper appearance.

It's clear as day that he's somber, and the fact incites more anger on your part. Inhaling through your nose, you stomp back to your place behind the counter. From the corner of your eye you see his gaze following your movement.

"What would you like to order?" You ask, because even though you're heartbroken, you're a professional.

"I need to talk to you," he says. Of course he does. Nevertheless, you put on a charming smile before his guilt-stricken face.

"Your order, please."

He leans forward. "I'm sorry - " And that's the wrong answer, not when your day is already bad as it is, not when you feel so awful from the moment you wake up in your bed. Especially not after so many questions and non-existent answers on his behalf.

"If you're not buying anything, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," you say through gritted teeth, your customer service mask slipping off.

After an excruciating silence, he ducks his head, biting his lips, like he needs to stop himself from speaking any further. Then slowly, he walks towards the door. At that point, you should feel triumphant. But the pang in your heart says otherwise as you see his hunched back, filled with disappointment. Before leaving, he turns one more time, looking at you in the eye with a gaze that squeezes your heart painfully.

"I'll come back to visit again."

You watch the empty store, breathing harshly. There's a storm of emotions going inside you, and nothing you do afterwards helps you calm down. You've never been this shaken before, not even when you first heard of Jinki dating on the news. That day, you thought of course, of course he would date the actress. Not someone he randomly kissed after a particularly rough day. Idols are unreachable for a reason. But his reappearance opens a Pandora's box, releasing the feelings you locked in so many months ago.

To make it worse, this time Jinki is not lying. Because the next morning, he's back, he's wearing a black turtleneck shirt paired with slacks and covered by a dark brown coat, looking dashing all while smiling hospitably as he orders a huge americano and a dozen pastries for dine-in. He sits in his usual corner, fiddling with his phone all the while throwing glances at you. It's easy to ignore him with the presence of other customers, but when it's only two of you, it's a whole different kind of challenge.

Surprisingly, the man doesn't attempt to talk to you, at all. Jinki just sits there, waiting. He nibbles on one snack to the other, and continues to wait. You can hear him receiving calls silently, trying to hush his voice, but you hear words like "I'm not coming" and "I'm sorry, but I already told you yesterday” which start to melt the ice that’s settling within you.

The sun is setting when you decide you can't stand it anymore. He's been eating nothing but pastries, he had ordered another glass of coffee and he. Just. Won't. Leave. Checking the time, it's been 9 hours, and you’ve waited long enough, way too long, to get the answers you’ve been asking for.

With dread clawing inside your stomach, you stand up and walk to his table. Jinki notices your presence and immediately perks up. You despise the glimmer of hope in those familiar brown eyes.

"Why are you here?" The tremble in your voice is evident, and you inwardly curse. Jinki, however, looks determined and stares back with a steely gaze.

"I want to talk to you," he states evenly.

"Right now? The store is still open."

The air on his face changes abruptly, and you almost step back, feeling his anger. After throwing you an unexpected sneer, he speed-walks to the door, grabbing your wooden sign and flipping it over from ‘open’ to ‘close’. You stammer a protest, but he's already in front you, looming over with his taller body.

"It's closed." Motivated by desperation, you know he will do anything to get what he wants. But internally you shake off the tingles of warmth you feel when seeing him this assertive. "Can we please talk now?"

You chew the insides of your cheek, biting off your frustration, because you know he got you cornered. With a sigh, you nod. You've listened to many people, many stories ranging from sorrow to joy, and you listen well, quiet and composed. Now, you're anything but. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, uncomfortable with the increasing tension in the air. He remains silent, and you feel more uneasy. When he finally speaks, you should’ve seen it coming.

"I'm sorry." You feel each word stabbing your chest. "I'm sorry for not coming back, I have my reasons so please let me explain first."

You inhale sharply. "You have a girlfriend."

"No, I - "

"You have a girlfriend. Why did you even kiss me?"

Hurt flashes on his face. "She's not my girlfriend. And I kissed you because I wanted to."

Anger rises in your veins.

"Everybody says it. It's all over the news." You hold the urge to sneer, to laugh at his attempt to lie. Jinki’s mouth opens and closes a few times, his hand flailing helplessly. Then, he holds a hand up.

"Give me a minute," he insists before opening up his phone. You're close to berating him for lack of manners but he suddenly holds the phone to you. You look up at him quizzically. He only nods, somber and knowing, so you take it.

You gasp, your stomach churns with dread.

On his phone screen is a picture of the two of you, clearly taken by someone who's not supposed to see it. It was from that night before he stopped visiting, and it has you and him on the main street, right before you enter his car. Your face is hidden by the cap he lent, but he is ushering you into the car with a hand on your lower back. Unlike your features, Jinki's are crystal clear. He’s not wearing anything to cover his face, and his pink hair is bright in the dark. From the proximity, it's obvious what it looks like.

"T-this is - "

"Paparazzi. We managed to prevent the worst case with the help of media insiders, but we still needed to do preventive measures.” At that moment, SHINee was about to start promoting a comeback, if it went wrong, it'd ruin everything. “So, one of my agents suggested I fake-dated another celebrity to cover it up."

Your eyes widen. He stops, and stares at you knowingly.

"I was under heavy scrutinization. The media had their eyes on each and every movement I made. They followed me everywhere." He ducks his head, chuckling with an uncharacteristic self pity in his voice.

"I couldn't visit you. It was too risky. So I waited, and played along with the plan. Thankfully, announcing the relationship was not necessary. The pictures and interactions were enough. In the end, all we had to do was deny the rumors, saying we're just friends who helped each other in her acting gigs. Furthermore, I don't think they managed to publish the original picture. If they did… Let's just say I wouldn't be here."

Silence stretches between the two of you. Your mind is still processing all the things he’d said, but you can feel the blooming hope within your heart, trying to tell you to listen and to give him a chance.

Jinki inhales, chest expanding before letting out of his frustrations through a harsh exhale. Then, he moves forward, taking your hand with his hesitant ones, testing the waters. Staying still, you watch with anticipation and thundering heart as he pulls your hands up.

“I miss you. I miss this place. Being around you makes my worries disappear, as if the only thing that matters is the time we spend together. I've always enjoyed your company since I first visited this place by chance but…” he takes a deep breath, eyes boring straight into yours.

“I didn’t expect to fall for you."

Your breath hitches, and he moves closer. Just an inch closer, testing the waters.

"Please, give me a chance. I didn’t mean to stop seeing you. To stop visiting for months, not being able to see your smile… It was a torture.”

With shallow breaths, the aftermath of your shock, you find yourself unable to say anything. Your head is light and dizzy - clouded with emotions after his revelation. He pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss that stills you even further. His eyes are solemn, filled with so much longing that suddenly becomes clear to you.

"Will you forgive me? Can I try again?”

Months of learning to forget and hate him melts away. There's something in your expression that makes Jinki's eyes soften. You miss that gentleness that brings so much life to the man, but most of all, you miss him. Just him. Letting instinct take over, you pull your hands away from his grasp as his face falls.

"You idiot," you murmur helplessly, moving forward only to punch his chest, albeit weakly, ignoring his protests as he stumbles back with a yelp. "I waited. I waited for you but you never came back, I thought you - you got bored of me or something."

"(Y/n), no - "

Something inside you snaps, and you let words come out like a waterfall.

"I like you a lot, Jinki. More than a lot. I-I think I'm falling for you too. I didn't know what to do when I saw the news. It made me feel so bad about myself. And you just kissed me too. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"W-well, I don't have your number."

Unbidden, you choke out a strangled laugh, noticing the tears that's appearing in your eyes. With trembling fingers, you grab his shirt, hiding your face away in his chest.

"I waited for you." You repeat, voice hoarse and weak.

With a tenderness you never felt before, he holds your face and frowns, regret paints his eyes darker.

"I'm sorry, I'm here now."

"Is it even safe for you to be here?"

"It's been months, I'm out of their radar now, my team made sure of it."

"Stupid."

"I know, I know. I am stupid, I'm sorry."

"I missed you." You finally say, and in a second warmth engulfs your body as he pulls you into his arms. The scent that is undoubtedly Jinki, oh so familiar to you, comforts you almost instantly.

"I missed you, too." He says into your hair, and you return his embrace with a hiccup. "Are you crying? I'm so sorry."

You pull back, stubbornly trying to show him you are not crying but he just laughs - bright and warm, shit, you really missed it - cupping your face so tenderly it makes your cheeks burn. But something in your face makes him frown.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Your eyes widen at the nickname and his face falls. "Um, is it okay if I call you that?"

"S-sure," You reassure him, secretly melting inside.

"Good. So, what's on your mind?" He inquires with a hint of worry. You bite your lips, thinking about a question that has been lingering in your mind.

“So that night, when you kissed me… It wasn’t a mistake?”

At that, a smug smile graces his plump lips. Gosh, you even miss this side of him, the one that takes enjoyment in flustering you.

“I never regret it."

Relief floods your heart, and it leaves blossoms of hope. So you look up at him, putting on a cute expression that hopefully melts him.

“Can you do it again?”

He chuckles, not showing any protest before leaning in to capture your lips.

“Gladly.”

+++

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"I parked the car at a market two blocks away from your cafe, I think we're okay, (Y/n),” he sighs, pushing your back for you to start walking. Due to someone’s reckless action, you closed the store hours before it’s closing time, and now you even get to go home early.

You laugh. "Fine."

There's a part of Jinki that will never agree to you going home by bus, hence why he's insistent on driving you home once again. With a lighter heart, you accept.

But contrasting the previous trip, the ride home is silent. You can hear the faint sound of keys jingling against the dashboard, and the constant clack of pedals being stepped on. You turn your gaze to the driver, the sight of his side profile greeting you. He's breathtaking, you think, the mole on his chin is beyond adorable, and all of a sudden, the man turns his face. He offers you a smile before patting your thighs - as if knowing that smile makes your legs weak - and within seconds his eyes are back on the road, leaving you flustered.

Jinki parks the car across your apartment building, bringing a deja vu to the whole situation. You open the door and step a foot outside, thinking of saying good night to Jinki there and then. But he doesn't share your thoughts, because he's already leaving the car, intending to see you to the lobby.

"Alright then," he says softly. "Good night, (Y/n)."

The insides of your stomach twists. You don’t want him to leave yet. Months passed without him in your life, and despite having brighter days ahead within the new relationship, a selfish part of you still wants to spend time with him, making up for the lost time. You don't know what pushes you forward that night, but you’re already pulling the cuff of his sleeves, fingers curling around the fabric.

Jinki turns around, confusion clear in his brown eyes. "Yes?" He's tilting his head, cute.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" You blurt out and his eyes turn into saucers. "You haven't eaten a proper meal today. I can make something for both of us."

His surprise melts into a bright smile, his eyes crinkling with happiness. You see his ears turning red. "I'd love to."

You step into your home first, taking off your shoes and changing them to slippers. Gingerly, yet excited, you pull another pair of slippers to give to your guest. It’s a pair of white bunny slippers, with little ears as the decoration. You hope he doesn’t mind the design.

"Oh, thank you," he says, stifling a laugh at the object - rude - before ducking to follow your gesture. Then, he removes his coat, hanging it on the rack, revealing a set of broad shoulders and chest, the fabric of his low turtleneck shirt emphasizing the swell of his arms. You hang onto the sight for a little too long, and by the time you look away, Jinki already has a knowing smirk, amused at your dumbfounded expression. With a huff, you practically rush inside your home, ignoring him.

Without even looking, you know he's scanning your room. You're quite proud of it, because it may be small, but you made it as comfy as possible. You don't have dining tables, instead you have island counters and high chairs. Gesturing Jinki to sit there, you excuse yourself to change into more comfortable clothes. As you're about to reach your room, Jinki calls your name. You turn to see him holding a familiar cap from your shelves.

"You kept it with you." He's grinning as he flails the hat, looking all giddy and adorable, and it's contagious.

"Of course, you told me to."

"That I did. But I didn't expect you to hold it after what happened."

He's not wrong. Many times you wanted to throw it away, since it's the only item you have that's left of him, the only string left of the frail connection you had with Jinki. But you couldn't, despite the bittersweet feeling that came from seeing the hat, sometimes you found comfort from it.

As if sensing the deflated mood, he pushes the hat on your head playfully, pulling a laugh from you which halts when the back of his hand caresses your cheek, his eyes assessing you with intrigue. The same hand ends up on your shoulder, giving a light push.

"Go on, aren't you going to change?"

You scowl half-heartedly, trying to ignore the subtle suggestive tone in his voice.

Quickly, you go into your room to store the hat away and change into your usual attire at home, lounge shorts and a large t-shirt. You stride to the kitchen area and take a second to drink in the sight of Jinki in your kitchen. It’s real. The scene is so domestic you can feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Does soybean soup sound good to you?" You ask, now standing in front of the island counter. You laugh internally realizing how similar this is to your usual dynamic at the café. "I have some pork dumplings too.”

Jinki blinks, then he looks at you from your head to toe with half hazed eyes. The way he’s drinking in your form triggers the heat pooling in your belly, especially when he stares at your thighs for a moment too long, and you can't help but squirm under his gaze. It's a truce, you suppose, for you've ogled at him as well.

"That sounds lovely." His voice is quiet, eyes hazy like he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. "Can I do anything to help?"

Bless this man. "Then, can you chop the vegetables?"

"Sure." He gets up and walks to your side, already eyeing a cutting board that’s hanging near the sink. Meanwhile, you’re rummaging through the freezer, acquiring a bag of frozen pork and leek dumplings, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you're cooking together and it's so domestic, fuck - you move to the shelves, intending to get the soybean paste container up there. It's not that high, you swear, but you do need to tiptoe.

Then unexpectedly, a hand goes past yours to grab the container. Familiar scent tickles your nose and warmth seeps through your back, with that you know Jinki’s standing behind you.

Sheepish, you turn to thank him but stop when you realize how close he is. He's looking at you with hooded eyes, intense and filled with emotions you're familiar with, because perhaps, you're mirroring it. A rustling sound catches your attention, and you notice Jinki putting the container down to the counter. You can feel the top surface of the same counter digging into your hips, and belatedly you catch up with your situation, it almost feels like you're cornered.

Jinki puts his hand on the counter by the side of your torso. With the rolled sleeves, the muscle of his arms draws your attention once more, his bicep tensing as the hand presses on the surface. Now you're cornered by his strong arm, and he moves the other to your hair, fingers tickling your temples, dragging them slowly to move your fringe out of the way.

"Are you okay?" Asks Jinki, almost rhetorically, voice lower than you've ever heard in all the time you've known him. He smells like wood and a hint of something floral, and you start to feel intoxicated from it. He's moving closer, at first you can only hear his breath, but within seconds you can feel each puff of air on your skin.

You take note of your heartbeat that runs a mile, the way you breathe in shallow intakes, and the wild butterflies in your stomach. You notice how desperately you want him to touch you, kiss you, it's inappropriate. Then, the answer should be no, you're far from okay.

Instead, you gulp. "Yes," you rasp the answer and the corner of Jinki's mouth quirks up, devilish yet sweet.

"Good."

And then he's on you. His lips descend on yours, urgent and feverish, and you melt against him immediately. You know this is not the first time you kiss, but it wasn’t like this before, that one was short and sweet, you didn't think it could be this hot and intoxicating.

His hand cups your cheek, tilting your head to mold your mouth better, the gesture makes you weak and you let him guide you to his will, and by the time he succeeds, you're already gripping his shoulder for balance and support.

Jinki opens his mouth, pulling your lower lip in between his teeth, grazing and teasing it until you accidentally let out a whimper that causes him to inhale sharply. The noise fuels your need to be closer to him, so you kiss him back harder, trying to take any sort of control. But Jinki's not having it, he puts his hand on your lower back, gripping them tight enough to make you gasp. He uses the opportunity to sneak his tongue past your swollen lips.

Overwhelmed by him, you push your own appendage against his, meeting it shyly. He groans, voice rumbling low like never before and it goes straight into your core. Your lips dance together in a sensual rhythm as the temperature between you seems to increase. Eventually, you grow more breathless, and pull back. He follows suit, detaching your mouth but keeping you close to him. Like tunnel vision, you can only focus on the man who has you in his arms.

Jinki touches your forehead with his, which feels really warm. His whole body radiates heat, like a furnace, and you want the warmth to engulf you more. Pulling back, he cups your face tenderly, calloused thumb rubbing your cheek carefully, as if too much pressure will break you into pieces. You won’t break, but the weight of his gaze does cause you to squirm. Feeling self conscious, you bring a hand up to your face, attempting to hide your disheveled self only to have Jinki tut at the action.

"You always do that." With his large hands, he pries your smaller ones away, showing your flushed face for his delight. He smiles in awe, and you can’t look away.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers.

Elated by the compliment, you mirror his smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips. The harmless peck turns into another heated kiss in no time, with you pressing yourself against him and him parting his irresistible mouth to welcome yours excitedly. Abruptly, he retreats again, chuckling nervously as he puts his hands on your shoulders.

"I’m sorry.” He sounds strained. “If we keep doing this, I won’t be able to stop.”

Again you’re reminded of how much of a gentleman Jinki is, how proper and patient he is. But you had enough. With a ridiculous amount of desperation coming from the ever-growing tension in the air between you two, you muster all of your courage. "Then don't."

With eyes as big as saucers, Jinki is about to say something when you take the chance to grab his arm and lead him to the couch in the middle of your room. You're in no rush, you know he knows what you want, and he's following your lead soundlessly. You sit down, he follows suit and you notice the way he takes no time to turn to you, cupping your face as you lean into the palm of his large hand. Despite the gentleness of his touch, you can see the storm in his eyes and how it waits to crash unto you.

So you end his uncertainty.

"Don't stop." You whisper before leaning in, capturing his lips in a languid kiss. He reciprocates, returning the favor eagerly while his hand wanders on your exposed thighs, the skin to skin contact bringing shivers to your spine. It doesn't take long until your frenzied self shifts closer to him, ending up sitting in his lap, and his lips have left yours in order to explore the skin of your neck. He parts his mouth and starts sucking on your skin, exposed by the large t-shirt. You breathe shakily, positively quivering in his hold. Never would you know the usually calm man can turn you into a molten heat under his touch.

Wanting to feel more of Jinki, your hand wanders from his chest to his abdomen and lower to his thighs, eliciting a hiss from him. Mesmerized by his reaction, you crave more, so you shift in his lap, moving in a way that will make your thighs brush against the hardness between his legs.

"Oh god," he moans out loud, voice gravelly but still melodic to your ears, it brings a proud grin to your face, provoking his eyes to turn dark. He tuts. "Don't get ahead of yourself, sweetheart."

The endearment alone sends a familiar wetness straight to your core. He smiles, knowing exactly what he does.

"May I?"

You nod, and suddenly his hand is on your inner thigh, dancing dangerously close to your center, and your breath hitches, knowing how wet you are by now. His other hand travels to your back, sneaking under your shirt to rub circles there, fingers brushing with the back of your bra repeatedly, the sensations make you whimper and the satisfaction on Jinki's face only brings more excitement in your veins. You almost let out a moan, biting your lip when you feel his finger pressing on your core through the pants.

"What was that?" He hums, putting more pressure.

"Don't tease me," you manage out, holding his upper arm with a trembling hand. Your last sliver of pride seems to fire a challenge within him, so you curse out loud when he easily pulls your pants down along with your panties, leaving you exposed. He rubs your thighs appreciatively, making you whimper.

"Jinki, please…"

The way his name sounds on your tongue right now must be so erotic, because you can feel his erection twitch in response. He hums, leaning in to ghost his lips over yours.

"What do you want, sweetheart?"

"Please touch me." Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

Deceptively calm, he slowly spreads your legs, putting one foot on the couch and the other dangling on his strong thigh, and drags his thick finger on your slit. That first contact alone pulls a moan out of you causing him to sigh with appreciation.

"You're so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Don't say that - "

He gives you a crooked smile. "What? It's true, you're soaked."

It's not a secret that he enjoys teasing you until you lose your composure, but this time he's driving you crazy, and you know he's reveling in it. Losing control, you gasp as you feel a touch on your clit before his finger enters you easily. You bite your lip, closing your eyes as the glorious sensation takes you by surprise, and you lean forward to hide your face in the crook of Jinki's neck. He whispers sweet words, his other hand holds you tightly as the other keeps fingering you. Then, he pulls your body away, raising your chin, his eyes meet your questioning ones. Your answer arrives when another finger pushes into your wet cavern, making you keen. "A-ah - "

"Is that okay?"

The consideration doesn't go unnoticed. You nod, and he pulls you closer for a kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible. It's messy, you keep moaning into his lips, leaning back to pant as Jinki picks up speed, you have to hold a scream when he goes deeper, and crooks his fingers to a spot that rocks your body into a quivering mess.

Your control breaks when he rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling the pleasure building, and you can't stop the euphoric moans coming out of your mouth. Jinki stares at you with wonder in his eyes, appreciating your form as you gasp and pant his name so beautifully.

"Are you close?"

Feeling the intense heat coiling in your lower abdomen, you can only nod, but he persists, taking your chin rather forcefully you almost feel ashamed of how much you like it. His usually warm brown eyes are like molten lava, burning with desire and it lights you up in flame.

"No, tell me, are you close?" He demands with a harsh swipe on your clit and you arch your back in intense pleasure. You clench harder on his fingers, struggling to find words to answer him.

"Please, I'm so close - ah," You haven't finished your words when his hand increases the speed, going deep to rub your inner walls all without warning. You are in a sweet delirium, not caring of anything else at the moment. Your breaths are shallow, chest heaving up and down as your orgasm is teetering very closely.

Knowingly, Jinki looks into your eyes, hunger visible in the depths of brown. But his words are soft.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

With a high pitched moan, you let your climax crash into you, pussy walls clenching around his fingers that have been fucking you for a while now. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent that starts to mix with sweat. It calms you, so you breathe in more, still panting from your orgasm.

"Good girl," he murmurs into your hair, peppering kisses on the crown of your head, and you respond with a strained laugh.

"Oh my god, you're insane."

He joins in, ruffling your hair playfully. Looking back up, you see him staring at you with equal parts adoration and lust and the huge hardness underneath you calls your attention.

"Hey, what's wrong?" His voice is strained yet gentle, slightly concerned with the sudden silence. You look down, and he immediately knows what you're thinking.

"(Y/n), we don't have to - "

"Jinki, I want you." You lean closer, brushing your lips against his alluringly, silencing him. "I told you not to stop. Don't you want me?"

He swallows, control slipping.

"I want you so bad." He whispers, voice strained. He's devouring you with his gaze, hands cupping your face possessively. Intending to push him to his limits, you take his hand and slowly kiss each finger, pressing light pecks on the callused skin. You start sucking on his thumb, and he curses before eagerly pushing the thick finger in your wet mouth, pressing against your tongue. He's a storm about to explode, and you know it.

"Shit, I want you all for myself," Jinki grits out. He grabs your waist roughly, making you gasp around his thumb, before he pulls it out. "I want you begging me to let you cum, like you did just now."

You moan at his words, unconsciously rolling your hips to his, which pulls a pained groan from him. At that moment, you know he can't resist you anymore.

"Do you want it, sweetheart? Are you sure?" He finally asks, and you nod, eyes determined and rightfully desperate. You're a wet mess and you want nothing but to have Jinki inside of you. No longer wanting to wait, you finally go for his ear, whispering your one and only wish for the night.

"Please fuck me, Jinki. Make me yours."

He inhales sharply. With shallow breaths, he tugs you closer, kissing you deeply before shifting you in his arms. You yelp as he picks you up easily and starts walking towards your bedroom.

"There's no way we're doing it on a couch." He winks before dropping you on the bed while your squeal fills in the room.

As if there's a switch, the laughing subsides. With one glance at the man before you, you can only focus on one thing. You rush to pull off Jinki's shirt, and you marvel at his body and all the defined muscles. Taking a little too much time ogling him, Jinki chuckles, but you can hear the slight nervousness, and goes ahead to unbuckle his belt. The action jolts you back into reality, so you help him to remove the offending fabric.

Your hands are trembling, but Jinki's too, and you find comfort from it as you fumble around, too excited to care about anything else in the world.

Growing impatient, you capture his lips again which he responds to eagerly. God, his lips are soft. Your hand goes south to palm him through his briefs, trying to stimulate him more. With a muffled moan, he asserts his strength and takes your hand before flipping your position and resuming the kiss. Trapped under his strong body, you let yours go pliant as his hands explore it greedily.

He all but rips your oversized shirt before pushing you back down on your bed. Satisfied and not being able to hold himself back anymore, he cups your breast through your bra, making you gasp, and he quickly removes it before going straight to tweak a pebbled nipple. Sighing in pleasure, you move your hips upwards, needing some friction. Jinki notices it and smirks.

"Impatient, aren't we?"

Perhaps you should feel more ashamed for your wanton, but there's no remorse, only a painful need for the man before you. Who you’ve waited for so long.

You let out a whine. "Please?"

"Please what?"

"I want you inside me - oh!"

Without a warning, Jinki pushes in two fingers into your heat, the earlier wetness and your own release help in slicking his fingers.

"Like this, sweetheart?" He asks, clearly teasing you, playing with your bundle of nerves, your noises encouraging him to arouse your body further.

"Jinki, please…" You all but beg, hands reaching to touch his body, down to his cock, still in the briefs, trying to send an obvious message to your lover.

With a smile, he pulls out his fingers. Like the patient person he is, he takes his time to take off his briefs, finally freeing his hard cock. You can't help but feel intimidated by his size. Deceptively slow, he strokes himself while peering down at you, enjoying the fucked out look in your eyes and leaving you almost drooling at the sight he provides.

"God, I want you so bad," he grunts. "You don't know how long I've wanted this."

"It wouldn't take too long if you hadn't left," you whine instantly, making him pout.

"I'm going to make it up to you, okay, sweetheart?" He leans in, peppering kisses on your cheeks while slowly pulling your legs open. “We have all the time now.” You marvel at his gaze, loving and all heat at the same time. After wetting his cock with all your essence, he finally starts pushing in, tensing your whole body.

"Relax," he says, caressing your thighs softly and you nod, letting him push himself inch by inch. God, he's huge and he's stretching you so well.

"More," you whimper and he knows you're growing impatient as well, in one swift motion, he pushes all the way in and makes you moan in pleasure. You can feel his girth around your walls, and you clench unconsciously.

"Shit (Y/n), don't do that." He pulls back while chuckling, the tip of his cock almost leaving your core. "Let me make you feel good first."

You nod weakly, about to say something, anything but get cut off when he pushes in again, this time deeper.

"Jinki," you moan as he replies with a quiet "Okay?" To which you nod.

And he does. He slides in again, and again, and you can't even form words to save your life. His cock feels amazing, fucking you like there's no tomorrow. You pull him closer by the neck, kissing him hard and sloppy. Taking advantage of your muffled mouth, Jinki wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you up slightly and making your legs wrap around him before he starts pounding into you relentlessly. He swallows your euphoric screams, only pulling away to enjoy your expression, basking in pleasure.

As soon as his cock hits your pleasurable spot, you gasp out and clench hard, earning a guttural moan from him. "Jinki, I'm - "

"You're close, aren't you sweetheart? Are you going to cum for me again?"

"Yes! Please - oh my god," you ramble before your words turn into a high pitched moan as you feel Jinki's fingers playing with your clit. You're so close, the second orgasm already creeping up to you, more intense than the first.

"You were so beautiful when you cum earlier, will you show it to me again?" He offers a sweet smile, contrasting the way he's pounding into your pussy and you only whimper in answer. He pinches your engorged bundle of nerves, expression turning dark.

"Answer me, can you, sweetheart?"

"Yes!" You gasp out, the stimulation jolts fire within you. "Yes, only for you Jinki."

With a particularly harsh thrust, you choke a gasp before a wave of pleasure hits you. You can feel yourself clenching uncontrollably, legs shaking as Jinki pulls you closer, pressing a kiss on your temple.

"Good girl, my good girl," he rambles, chasing his own high desperately. Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, he gives one last push before groaning in release, spilling his essence inside you. You sigh with content, running your fingers in his soft brown locks. After a moment, he leaves your neck, craning his head up before smiling broadly, the post-coital glow so apparent on his face. You grin, pressing a kiss on his nose, which makes him laugh.

"Hang on," he murmurs, pulling out of you before plopping down on your side. "Hi."

"Hi," you respond, moving to his arms, grinning and giddy from your own high. He wraps his arms around you, pressing his cheeks into the skin of your neck.

"Still up to cook?" He asks, and you realize all the cooking supplies you've prepared in the kitchen. You get up, but he stops you. "Let's just order a takeout. I'll help you clean out the kitchen."

You sigh. "Fine."

"You can cook breakfast tomorrow."

You blink owlishly, which gets a sheepish smile in return.

"Can I stay over?"

A large smile blossoms on your face. "Of course."

“Give me a second then.” He begrudgingly gets up, looking slightly lost for a moment before finding his phone. The sight amuses you so much you don’t realize Jinki pouting as he makes a call.

"I won't be coming back tonight," Jinki says to the phone before a loud shouting blasts from the device. He laughs, looking behind to catch your gaze before smiling wide. "Sure, I'll introduce her later to you."

"Wha - Taemin?" A scoff. "You two have fun, then."

Finishing the call, he crawls back to your embrace in the bed, making you giggle. Jinki hums with contentment before nudging you back, wishing to see your face. You don't know what he sees, but his smile turns softer, and he really looks like the sun.

"You're insane." he half-whispers, and you laugh, boisterous and too giddy. You decide to tease him.

"But you haven't seen nothing yet."

His lips quirk into a devious grin. "Is that a challenge?"

You only smirk in reply, which encourages Jinki to lean up and try to kiss you, but something comes to your mind so you push yourself off him.

"Wait here, we need to clean up." Ignoring his disappointed look, you stand up and start to walk away. Suddenly, you hear a loud rumbling noise. When you see Jinki, he already has a hand on his stomach with only a mild surprise, like he knows it will happen sooner or later. You huff.

"And you need to eat."

He laughs, following suit only to wrap his hands around your waist, seemingly unable to detach himself from you for too long. You grumble, attempting to wrestle away from him. But he's stronger, and holds you so you're looking at him. With a voice as warm and sweet as his favorite drink, he murmurs.

"Just one more kiss, sweetheart, then dinner."

The nickname works like a charm. Albeit having disbelief in his self-control - and yours too, to be frank - you give in, relaxing your body and accepting his lips on yours again, thankful that he returns, excited for the days you'll spend together with him in your life.

#onew #shinee #onew x reader #onew x you #onew smut #onew scenarios #shinee scenarios #shinee smut #jinki x reader #jinki x you #jinki smut #jinki scenarios #kpop smut #jinki fluff

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the-disaster-in-waiting · 4 months

Text

Who are you?

(Dr Spencer Reid x Reader)

“Who are you?” A large mahogany table separated Spencer and 'Cale' as he stared her down.

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head as if surprised by his question.

- Flashback to one month ago-

Cale held herself and her looks in high standards, careful and precise. This was a new opportunity, a new job and a restart on herself.

As the elevator dinged signalling the doors opening having made her floor she moved to enter the bullpen and stood observing the room unhappy with the noise plaguing her senses.

She desperately wanted to curl into a ball, run from the situation. She did not like the noise. Her skills were in flight now and as long as the BAU offered she would be theirs.

As she tried to somewhat read her new co-workers Aaron Hotchner, her new boss surprised her. She jumped at his voice.

“Hello, Miss Cale Agent Hotchner we met before.” He stuck his hand out to shake, she gripped it quickly and gave a soft smile letting down her faux guard.

“Yes Daniel Cale” She held her head high, eyes meeting his and a small smile to indicate friendly… but apprehensive and scared. It was her first day.

“Yes, follow me.” Before leading the way he turned to the team now knowing into the short conversation had a few feet away from them. “Conference room, 5 minutes”.

Cale hadn’t been able to sit before the team filled all the empty seats eager to identify the disruption to their easy going day.

“This is First Officer Cale, the new co-pilot of the jet Strauss has decided we will have one who will be on all flights with us and be caring for the aircraft from now on” Hotchner looked to check all heard and absorbed the new information. “Now Garcia?”.

As Hotch sat down a perk blonde with the rainbow poured into her outfit stood making sure to look away from the screens gruesome images. “Alright my lovelies…”

The bright woman continued as Cale spaced out uneager to listen in on a case she wasn’t made to listen to. She thought of dinner, what she’d make or order now that she was leaving for a hotel. As she further sank into her dinner pit Hotch’s strong voice pulled her out.

“Wheels up in 30” he looked to Cale, “Cale” nodding in respect as she stood with him speed walking towards her aircraft. Odd it was now official this was her’s to care for and man.

“First Officer Cale? I’m Captain Martins” He held his hand too low for Cale’s liking but she shook it nonetheless eager for her first flight as she finished her checks before the team boarded she and Martins sat to get comfortable in their seats.

Flying was one thing but it was different controlling the jet and a whole other thing to fly your own jet holding others lives in your responsibility. Martins made idle chat Cale didn’t mind entertaining as he flew the jet. Cale checked all systems were in check and no issues for her first trip as she breathed deeply at her small success, a small part still being held till descent.

“Both parents passed in a car accident when she was 12, she was then raised by her aunt and older brother before studying in KAPA and moving out of Savannah” As all but Hotch listened to Garcia’s deep dig into the new semi-member of the team as Garcia said apprehensive of a new member entering without approval.

“Babygirl I think that’s enough” Morgan tried to gently and discreetly close Garcia’s laptop before she could continue.

“But what if she’s a secret spy or murderer… or, or or” As Morgan stopped Garcia from reopening her laptop despite her pleas she fell further into her chair.

“Cale is actually a boy's name of Hebrew origin, though its translations are diverse. As a variation of Kelev, it means "dog," encompassing the virtues of loyalty and love. However, its most popular interpretation is as a shorthand for Caleb, meaning "wholehearted." An iconic ancient figure within the Old Testament, Caleb was famously-” before Reid could continue Prentiss started.

“Maybe we should invite her to drinks at the hotel. No better way than to dig some info” She shrugged at the idea, it was worth a try though. She could tell the girl was a little nervous and new to the team, she wanted them to feel comfortable and get to know them.

“Or we could keep looking” As Garcia tried to futally open her laptop again Morgan pinched it from her laptop and held it high above his head.

“Or we could listen to Prentiss, she has a good idea” as Garcia huffed and conceded to Prentiss’ plan Morgan gave her cheek a kiss.

“Don’t worry if she is hiding something we’ll know”.

The hotel was clean white sheets and light brown wood. It smelt fresh and floral, a suitable place for Cale to await the capture of the BAU’s criminal and return home.

The first day as the team ran out the doors as fast as she could unlock it haphazardly thanking her as they marched to cars awaiting them, Cale took the time to clean and reorganise the jet to her standards.

Chairs bolted down she took to cleaning and organising the coffee station astounded they even had one, moving to the cockpit she found a bag left by one seat dropped in a way that easily led to these mistakes. Laying it with her bags to take to her room she made sure everything was locked and safe before making a move to the desk she’d been sitting at for hours.

Paperwork was always a chore and as the sun disappeared and the moon shone into her room she opened an overpriced beer. Hating the taste but the only drink she could have, she jumped at the knock on her door. Unexpected and traumatising she jumped so high the chair she’d stamped with her body the past few hours scraped loudly at the sudden loss of weight.

Waiting in silence to see if the knocking would disappear. Sadly it didn’t so with a hard groan she slowly re-lifted herself to answer their call.

As the door opened he could see her tired face he cringed at how much work must have been put into keeping the jet working.

Waving a small hi she slowly moved for what she guessed was his bag.

“Hi, we were going for drinks downstairs and were wondering if you’d like to join the team” he stammered and cringed at each mistake, unhappy at being chosen as the messenger but surprised when she held up a bag. “That’s Garcia’s bag” He grabbed it as she’d held it out not wanting anyone to be missing it for too long.

“Yeah, I found it when cleaning the jet so thought I’d bring it, can’t get in now all closed up.” She didn’t know whether to continue or shut the door in his face and rest until it was time to fly. “Any info to catch your killer?” She leant against the door as she asked, feeling more comfortable with a surface to lean on.

“No nothing that can give us an arrest” It fell awkwardly silent as they stood across each other Cale interrupting it again.

“You know, I didn’t know that stuff. About my name I mean that was pretty cool” Reid perked up at the kind comment.

“You know Savannah is pretty interesting as well in fact when Union General Sherman burned Atlanta to the ground during his infamous southbound march in the Civil War. When he arrived in Savannah, the city’s beauty inspired him to spare it. Instead of destroying Savannah like he did Atlanta, Sherman sent a telegraph of Savannah, with its neat squares and lush greenery, to President Lincoln offering the city to him as a Christmas present”

“Really?, I mean that’s a pretty big christmas gift” They both relaxed and calmed in each other's presence and personality. “Makes you wonder what he got his wife”.

At her last comment both Reid and Cale laughed at her silly joke Reid’s more of a hidden smile, shoulders moving and hers a smooth chuckle.

“Well I got to get to bed” As she moved away from the door to close it Reid quickly stopped it.

“Drinks?” He was uncomfortable bringing the subject up again but not wanting to show up alone.

“Sorry, as the new Jet caretaker there's a lot of work i gotta fix for one person there's a lot that needs to be grouped together for one plane” With a small smile she slowly closed the door again before deciding the work she had done was enough and collapsed into her bed ready for a new day.

As Reid showed to the table without Cale he held up his new find instead. “My bag” Garcia grabbed it quickly not even having thought of it all day but now felt dread at the idea of being left without it.

“Cale found it in the jet and left it in her room in case we needed it” Garcia swallowed the reply and thought of her next words carefully.

“So when we get back we have to get to know her right” All agreeing as Reid sat beside Morgan and Hotch returned with a drink.

Reid fell into his own thoughts, Morgan shrugging him back.

“You ok kid?”

“Yeah, just thinking.” and he was.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

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takamikeiigos · 2 years

Note

Hello! I just stalked the hell outta your blog and LOVED it!! Please make stoner hawks x reader a thing, I’d love it sooooo much! BUT! My REAL request is this - hawks, good ok friends /co-pro hero’s to lovers situation, and maybe drinking game or something, and he finds out that sweet, innocent and friendly fem reader— has vch and both nipple barbells. And now he can never look at her the same again 😂 please! And thank you! Keep up the great work!!! Peace ✌️

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝑲𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒐 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 5.2 𝒌

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖘: 𝑨𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒉𝒐𝒍 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝑫𝒐𝒎! 𝑯𝒂𝒘𝒌𝒔, 𝑪𝒐𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔/𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔→𝑭𝑾𝑩/𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈??, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕

• 𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕-𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅, 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆, '𝒐𝒉, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏 - 𝒍𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌'? 𝑺𝒐 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 '𝒆𝒎 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.

To say that you feel somewhat out of place when entering Hawks' apartment complex might just be an understatement.

The lobby is huge, due to the fact that the building itself harbors numerous business offices and private agencies. The flooring is a dark wood beneath your feet, before giving way to a plush white carpet. The walls are a light, delicate cream color, maybe just a shade or two darker than the carpeting, accented with warm-toned stone tiles. The entire room is adorned in modern decor and furniture, maintaining a look of clean-cut professionalism to impress guests and clients.

The receptionist at the front desk peaks up and offers you a smile.

You're definitely out of place.

You smile back politely and head straight for the elevator, the chime of the doors closing behind you offering state of peace to your nerves. You think back to what Hawks had told you earlier in the day, while the both of you had been signing off on paperwork after a long mission.

Penthouse Two. The very top floor of the building.

You press the corresponding button and the elevator begins a smooth ascent, the soft tone of jazz playing quietly over the speakers.

The elevator finally chimes again and comes to a stop, its doors giving way to an open hallway. You step out and look around, the dimly-lit lights adding a warm glow to the dark walls and the white marbled panels that accent them. The door Hawks' apartment sits a few feet to your right, the glow from the hallway lights illuminating the address that's posted on the wall beside it.

You approach it and raise a hand to ring the doorbell, but the door suddenly flies open, revealing just a peak into the vast apartment that belongs to Japan's number two Hero.

A small red feather appears from behind the door, slowly falling just as a leaf would during autumn, before resting weightlessly on the floor. You eye it for a moment, hesitant, before kneeling down to pick it up. You hold it between your fingers, admiring its soft, downy texture and vibrant color, and it twitches in your hold.

You rise, the feather still in your grasp, and cautiously enter the apartment, the sheer size of it nearly stopping you in your tracks.

It definitely lives up to the rest of the building's expectations in decor. It's atmosphere is warm, just like the rest of the building; white walls are garnished with a smokey, gray trim, breached with little decor and adding in splashes of muted reds, oranges, and browns for contrast. The furniture is a deep, charcoal grey - a large sectional couch sitting in the middle of the living room with a dark wood coffee table accenting it in the middle. Just behind that sits a tall dining table, carmine-red chairs surrounding it and adding another splash of color to the room, the large windows of the apartment providing a dramatic backdrop of downtown Musutafu.

You look to your left and spot a bar, the shelving on the walls embellished with numerous types of liquors and glasses. And when you look above that, what you think is the ceiling actually turns out to be a platform. You crane your head slightly to get a better look over the railing and you spot what looks like a bed, but you can't be too sure.

"Come on in, I don't bite."

You nearly jump out of your skin and whip around at Hawks' relaxed tone, the winged Hero standing behind you with a cocky grin plastered on his mouth. The feather twitches from where you'd forgotten it in your grasp and frees itself, twirling around you a few times before taking its place back in the plush of Hawks' wings.

"Well.. only sometimes."

You glare at him and his brazen antics, an exasperated huff falling from your lips.

"You know, Hawks," you say, exasperated, scrubbing a hand over your face, "One of these days I'm gonna knock your ass out for doing that shit."

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued, and breathes out a laugh.

"If you think you can catch me first, sure."

You roll your eyes as he walks past you, and you follow his movement. It's admittedly very weird seeing him outside of work and not in uniform - dressed casually in a pair of loose, black joggers and a dark gray henley, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He's continued to rock the shorter hair, the golden tufts holding a dampness that makes you guess he must've just gotten out of the shower. He runs a hand through the damp locks and you watch as his back muscles flex ever-so-slightly beneath his shirt, his wings rustling and stretching with his movement.

He plops down on the living room couch, comfortably leaned back into the cushions with one leg dangling off the edge and the other propped up, an arm resting on his knee.

He smiles at you, sincerely.

"C'mon, chickadee. Mi casa es su casa," he tilts his head, as if to beckon you forward.

You remove your shoes in the doorway of his apartment and make your way into the living-space, opting to sit on one of the loveseats perpendicular to where he sits on the couch.

"So! What goodies do we have to dig into, today?" He sits up, shifting so one leg is folded under the other, and leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Honestly?" You start, opening the manila folder you'd brought with you. You look at the papers inside for a moment, scanning both of them, before setting one infront of Hawks, and one infront of yourself. "They're pretty basic questions. You know.. like, 'What's your favorite part about being a Hero?' and, 'Who was your biggest inspiration?'"

Hawks chuckles and shakes his head, an eyebrow raised with skepticism. A few agencies had been chosen by a magazine to interview eachother, and out of the six that were chosen, yours and Hawks' were among them. You decided to team up with eachother, not necessarily having been close friends, but frequent acquaintances, partnering up with eachother on missions here and there.

"But!" You chime, pointing a finger at him. "There are some juicy ones in here that I think you might like."

He rolls his eyes playfully at you and sits back, his wings spread out flat over the couch cushions, bright red feathers gleaming in the lowlight of the room. You hear what sounds like glass clinking behind him and look over his shoulder toward the bar. A bottle of an expensive looking red wine comes floating into view, followed by two crystalline wine glasses. They land gently on the table between you and Hawks, and one of the feathers pops the cork on the tall, dark bottle, the quiet noise echoing through the apartment.

"Let's at least make it fun, hm?" He shrugs, a few more feathers detaching from his wings to assist with pouring the wine. Each glass fills with about three fingers before being passed to each of you, the feathers zipping back around to rest back in the plumage of Hawks' wings.

You tilt your glass slightly in his direction, as if to salute him, then press the glass to your lips and take a sip. It has a nice flavor, with notes of caramelized fruits and almond, and it's smooth going down, calming your nerves.

Hawks sips at his own glass while you grab the paper that's loaded with questions for him, opening your notebook and preparing to take notes. You lean back against the couch, one leg crossed over the other, your wine glass held between your fingers.

You both take turns asking questions to eachother, sipping your wine while mulling over answers. The questions get a little more personal and your wine glasses grow empty as time goes on, your cheeks growing warm when you go to ask Hawks the next question.

He quirks an eyebrow at you and smirks, cheeks rosy and eyes lidded while he sits there and ponders, wine glass twirling in small circles where he holds it.

"Okay, Mr. Hotshot, Number Two. Heroes Daily - Japan wants to know: What's your ideal date?"

"Hmm, I'd have to say.. probably sharing a night in my apartment, getting to know eachother over expensive wine."

You blink at him, your skin instantly feeling ablaze as warmth travels through your body. He catches your reaction and barks out a laugh, finishing off his wine and setting the glass back on the table in front of him.

"I'm just kidding, dove," the nickname comes with ease, and it doesn't help your current situation. "I'd take you on a date down to my favorite yatai for the best yakitori you could ever find." He sighs, a dreamy look on his face while he refills his glass, beckoning yours forward so he can fill it, too.

"Seriously. And it would have to be right before sunset so we could catch the lanters when they come on. And then we'd go for a walk and just.. talk."

He hands your glass back to you and you mutter your thanks, flustered over the innocent answer. But you jot it down and continue to sip your wine, waiting for him to ask you the next question.

"Who was or is your Pro Hero crush?"

Son of a bitch.

"Uhm," you hesitate, thinking on a proper way to answer the question without giving yourself up. You decide to pick a past crush you'd developed before becoming a Pro Hero. "Fat Gum?"

Hawks flashes you a genuine smile and asks why, searching for more details to put down with his answer. You rattle out something about how tall and strong Fat Gum is, and how kind his personality is. Hawks scribbles it down on his piece of paper and returns his attention back to you, waiting patiently.

"What's your favorite food?" You ask, and you give him an incredulous look after reading it aloud. Anyone would know the answer to this question, because the amount of times Hawks talks about it is unreal.

"Chicken!" You cut him off excitedly, beating him to it. He laughs quietly and nods his head in approval.

"Atta girl," he praises, and though you don't think he means to be flirtatious with it, the tone of his voice causes a heat to stir between your legs.

He looks at his piece of paper for a moment, amusement taking over his facial expression, before looking back at you with genuine curiosity.

"If you could choose any body modifications, whether it be a piercing, tattoo, or changing your hair color, what would you choose?"

How the fuck were you supposed to answer this?

Hawks squints at you, setting his glass of wine down on the table and leaning forward.

"What if I already have a few?"

"There's no fuckin' way Japan's most innocent hero has a tattoo or piercing hidden from us all," he says in awe, gaze trained on you as if he were trying to put together pieces of a puzzle.

You blush at the sudden infatuation in his voice, breaking eye contact to keep yourself from becoming even more flustered than you already were.

"I mean.. I can't really just go around taking my shirt off and pulling my pants down," you mumble, and when you look back toward Hawks, he continues to study you, elbows resting on his spread knees, his hands folded in the space between them.

"I'm assuming the answer isn't exactly appropriate for a Hero Magazine, is it, dove?" He cracks a smile, the tone of his voice playful. Taunting.

The nickname sends any form of self-control or discretion you had out the window. You raise a hand up to your blouse, toying with the top button between your fingers.

"Would you like to find out?" The question comes out quiet, your voice hushed barely over a whisper. You don't mean to bat your eyelashes at him, but the effects of the wine are making themselves known, your skin warm and flushed, your muscles relaxed and pliant. You know for a fact that he's got you riled up, solely from the tone of his voice and his body language, but you can't find it in you to resist anymore.

"Who would I be if I declined?" He states, captivated by you.

You pop the buttons of your blouse one-by-one, the fabric falling over your shoulders as you do so. Once they're all undone your shirt slides off completely, resting in a pool behind you on the loveseat. You're completely exposed from the waist up, not having worn a bra in dread of putting one on after the day you've had, and the cool air of the apartment brings your nipples to a peak in an instant.

The barbells pierced through your nipples gleam in the low light, and Hawks just continues to stare at your exposed breasts.

"I've had them done for a while, now," you mutter, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You don't even remember which jewelry you have in, and you hope it's nothing too suggestive, seeing as how you have an array of studs, rings, and barbells.

Hawks stands then, and you look up at his looming figure on the other side of the coffee table. He slides the bottle of wine and both glasses to the edge of the wooden furniture, before making his way over, taking a seat on the table directly in front of you. You can't really gauge his expression or how he's feeling, but if you had to guess - he's either really turned on or very intrigued.

You sit properly for him, legs pressed together with your hands resting in your lap, back straight so he can properly get a look. He smirks while he takes in the full shape of your breasts, his lidded gaze traveling upward until he makes eye contact with you once more.

"Did it hurt?" He asks, genuinely curious, and you relax a bit.

"A little," you say sheepishly, thinking back to when you'd gotten them done. "It wasn't unbearable. They're just.. sensitive, that's all."

He nods in understanding, continuing to observe, and it's quiet for a moment.

"You can, I mean, if you want-" Your words come out jumbled, heat rising quickly to your cheeks. You squirm in your seat, shifting your gaze down at your hands where they rest in your lap. "You can touch them.. if you want."

Hawks hums out a response, and nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his warm hands on your skin. His hands are rough where they rest gently against your ribcage, just under the sides of your breasts. His touch travels down, surprisingly, his fingers trailing whisper-like touches against your sides and stomach. You try your hardest to still your breathing at his delicate touch, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. He trails his hands back up, cupping for breasts once more, this time rubbing his thumbs over your nipples just once, and you can't help but gasp.

"Sensitive, huh?" He chides, happy with the result his touch has on you. He squeezes one of the erect buds between his finger and you whine, warmth pooling between your legs. "I wouldn't expect you to be so kinky, 'Cum Here' is a pretty bold request."

You're confused by his words at first, not quite understanding what he means through the haze of the alcohol that's fogging your brain, but when you look down at where his hands are now massaging your breasts, it clicks into place.

The silver barbells shine brightly at you, adorned in hearts on each end that say, 'cum here'..

Your entire body feels like it's being engulfed in flames.

"I'm just messing with you, baby-bird," he coos, his hands falling away from your chest, resting in his lap. You can't help the whimper that leaves you, desperate for his touch, again. "It's pretty hot. Knowing that someone as innocent as you would be into something so filthy."

"Hawks.." his name comes out needy, and he lets you squirm in front of him, your hands gripping the edge of the loveseat.

"Yes, dear?" He responds plainly, leaning back where he sits on coffee table. "What do you need?"

"I - I..," you can't even get the words out, shameful that you could even think to ask.

"You need someone to take care of you? Gettin' a little flustered? All hot 'n bothered?"

He stands then, looming over you once more as he peers down at you. To your suprise he kneels down in front of you, nudging your knees apart to make room for himself between them. He leans forward, hands coming to rest on your hips, and presses in close to whisper in your ear.

"Tell me what you need, songbird."

You bring your hands up to tangle in his hair, your fingers tugging gently at the soft, feathery strands. He hums against your skin, face now pressed into the nape of your neck, and the rumble that travels through his chest has you moaning quietly into the expanse of his apartment.

"Please, Hawks," you beg, pressing your chest flushed to his. The fabric of his shirt rubs against your pert nipples, but the friction isn't enough.

"I'm not doing anything else until you tell me exactly what it is that you want-"

"You!" You cry out, wrapping your legs around his torso as if to prevent him from pulling away, "Please, Hawks, I need you to touch me."

He groans against your neck, hands squeezing where they rest on your hips, before pulling you toward the edge of the couch, closer to him. His thumbs rub circles against your soft skin, just above the waistband on your leggings, and there's no way in hell that he doesn't feel your arousal seeping through the fabric of your underwear and pants.

He nips at the delicate skin of your neck before moving on, trailing gentle licks and bites down your collarbone and chest until he hovers over your breast. Without hesitation he laves his tongue over a nipple, bringing one of his hands up to massage the one that's lacking in attention. You cry out and arch into his hold, your fingers curling into his hair at the electricity of his touch. His tongue is warm - hot, actually - in contrast to the cool air of his apartment and the steel material of the barbell that sits pretty inside your nipple. The feeling of the way he swirls his tongue over the bud and sucks has you seeing stars, crying out his name.

Sensitive, huh?

He switches, giving your breasts an equal amount of attention, licking, sucking, pinching and biting, until you're a squirming, wet mess in his hold.

He pulls away with a 'pop', sitting back to admire his work, your skin flushed red and nipples swollen from the attention. And without hesitation he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your leggings and underwear, sliding the clothing down your legs until they rest on the floor. In turn, you grab for his henley, desperately tugging at it because you want it off, and he finishes the task for you, maneuvering it over his wings before adding it to the clothing pile on the floor.

Hawks is absolutely beautiful - his lean form accented with subtly sculpted muscles, his large, vibrant wings twitching now that they're out of the confines of his shirt. You run a hand up his chest, just to touch and feel, and you can't help yourself when you brush your fingertips over the plumage of feathers beneath his shoulder blades. He groans low and deep, his head falling to rest on your shoulder while he grips your thighs.

Your breath leaves your lungs.

"Careful, songbird, or you'll get more than you can handle."

You decide to taunt him anyway and tug at the feathers at the base of his wings, and he whines, wings flaring out and knocking the bottle of wine off the table. It falls to the floor with a 'thud', it's contents spilling out onto the dark carpet, but Hawks doesn't seem to care.

No, instead he yanks your hips forward so you fall back onto the couch, your knees hooked over his shoulders while he keeps his hands pressed to your thighs. He looks up at you and there's something dangerous in his eyes - feral.

And when he finally looks down at the sweet heat between your thighs, it only intensifies.

"Oh? And what's this?" He coos, unhooking a hand from one of your thighs. He swipes a thumb between your wet folds and brushes its over your pierced clit, and you immediately know you're in for it. "More for me to play with, dove?"

He pinches your clit between his thumb and index fingers and you squirm in his hold, shock running through you at the initial touch, bit desperate for more. You don't have any time to respond before his mouth is on you, tongue dipping into that tight heat of yours to collect your juices before licking circles around your swollen clit.

The pleasure of it is unlike anything, your nerves hypersensitive due to the piercing. It doesn't help that Hawks seems to eat pussy for pleasure, licking up all or your arousal before sucking on your clit, the noise of it accompanying his moans and echoing throughout the room. And before you know it, he's two fingers deep inside of you, using that perfect 'come hither' motion to rub at the spot he knows will send you over the edge.

It doesn't take long for you to near your release, legs shaking where they're hooked over his shoulders, your hands scrambling for purchase in his hair while you cry out his name. And Hawks, being the sly bastard he is, hooks his tongue under the jewelry adorning your clit and tugs gently while crooking his fingers, and your orgasm hits you hard.

You toss your head back against the cushions on the loveseat and your entire body tenses like a bowstring, your walls clamping down hard around his fingers. He guides you through it, gently massaging the walls of your cunt while he uses his tongue to lap up your juices, and the feeling leaves you dizzy.

He pulls away and guides you back to a comfortable position on the loveseat before standing. Before he can go any further you reach a hand out, grabbing the waistband of his joggers. His cock strains in its confines, heavy and hard and leaking through the fabric.

You bat your eyelashes up at him from where you sit on the edge of the small couch, and he brings a hand up to cup your cheek.

"You want my cock, baby?"

God, his words and his voice could send you over the edge, again; heady and sultry, lighting a flame inside you that spreads warmth through your entire body.

"Go on," he encourages you, and you tug his sweatpants down past his hips, just enough that his cock springs free. It's big and thick, the tip of it red and swollen, oozing precum down the length of it.

Your mouth waters.

You don't waste any time, grasping the length of his cock in your hands and licking a broad stripe up the underside of it. He hisses and his hips stutter forward, but he catches himself before thrusting too hard, letting you continue at your own pace.

He tangles a hand in your hair once you suck the head of his cock between your lips and tugs, causing you to moan around the girth of it. In turn he hisses, peering down at you with an animalistic craze, brows pinched in concentration while your lips stay wrapped around his cock.

You're able to suck most of him into your mouth, flattening your tongue and bringing him in until you feel him hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuuuuck, that's it," he praises, voice low and husky, his fingers massaging the base of your skull. "Look at you. So fuckin' pretty with my cock in your mouth. Such a good girl for me."

You hum at his words, juices already accumulating between your thighs again, and get to work. You ease off of him slowly, stroking the base of his cock with your hand while you pull away, swirling your tongue over its sensitive head. You press your tongue against the slit and flick, and his hips buck, his grip in your hair tightening. He grunts and looks down at you, and there's a split second where you think he might be asking you for permission, before he rams his cock back into the warmth of your lips and down your throat.

You relax your jaw and let him take what he wants, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head because he tastes and feels so good. He swear above you, hand detangling from your hair and resting on your cheek, stroking where it stretches around his cock.

"Want me to come down that pretty little throat of yours? Hmm?" He grits out, his hips faltering as he edges closer to his orgasm. You moan around his cock and bring your hands up to fondles your breasts, pinching your nipples where they sit, abandoned. He thrusts once, twice, three more times before spilling into your mouth, cumming in the comfort of your mouth while he thrusts through it.

His cum oozes from the corners of your mouth and drip down your chin, droplets of it landing on your breasts which sit pretty on display. He pulls out and tilts your chin upward, rubbing his thumb around your swollen and abused lips. You make sure to stick your tongue out, showing him the mess he made inside your mouth, and when you swallow it he groans, gaze focused on the way your throat works around swallowing it down.

He looks thoroughly fucked, but not done. Not by the way his cock is still sitting against his abdomen, hard and full and leaking.

You can help the way your pussy flutters, empty.

He guides you to lay on your back properly, kneeling over your splayed out form. He looks menacing, wings towering high above both your heads, pupils shaved into small slits beneath lust-lidded eyes. He grins down at you, running a hand down your body until he reaches you clit. He flicks it once, running a tongue over his bared teeth, before hooking your legs to wrap around his waist.

"I'm gonna fuck you deeper than anyone ever has, okay?" It's not a request, it's not him asking for permission. It's a blatant statement - him telling you the rules of what's about to go down - and all you can do is nod dumbly in anticipation.

"And when I'm done with you? Well," he chuckles, lining his cock up with your fluttering pussy, "we're gonna make sure you know who thay pretty little pussy of yours belongs to."

He thrusts into you slowly, his length dragging against your sopping walls, your pussy clenching in attempt to pull him in deeper. You moan out his name, and he stops before he's completely sheathed inside of you, and stares down at you for a moment.

"Keigo," he whispers as he leans in close, as if he were telling you a cherished secret. "You've earned it, baby. Earned the right to call me by my name."

"K-Keigo," you stammer as he continues to sink into you, and he groans at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

"That's right. Now tell me who this pussy belongs to, baby girl."

"Y-You, Keigo," the words come out as a sob, and he finally thrusts in as deep as he can go. "Belongs t'you, Kei, p-please!"

He's absolutely relentless after those words leave your lips, pounding you hard and deep into the cushions of his couch. You reach around and grab the base of his wings, holding on for dear life, and his hips falter as he cries out. The pleasure of it makes him lose his mind and he angles your hips up to get even deeper, burying his face in your shoulder while he continues to fuck you at a ruthless pace.

You moan his name like a mantra, back arching when he reaches a hand between your legs, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. You clamp down around his cock and he bites into your shoulder, hard enough to break through skin, and you cum on his cock with a cry, the room around you blurring from the intensity of it. He keeps his hold on you, teeth clamped around the meat of your shoulder and his cock buried deep inside of you while he cums with you, his warm seed dribbling out of your pussy and down your thighs. He languidly thrusts through it, both of you riding through the bliss of a second orgasm, his thumb slowing its pace around your swollen clit.

A few moments pass and he's able to collect himself, running his tongue over the bite mark on your shoulder before pulling back. You're completely blissed out, covered is your cum and his too, your limbs heavy with satisfaction and exhaustion.

It's getting late, way past your bedtime at this point, and he sees that you're becoming sleepy. He pulls out of you as gently as he can, regardless of how good it feels when you squeeze around his cock one last time, and scoops you into his arms.

"Gonna clean you up, we'll finish this tomorrow," he disregards the papers sitting on the coffee table, and the wine bottle on the floor. You can distantly tell that he brings you up a small set of stairs, and you're reluctant to let go from where you're basically koala'd around him. But he coos into your ear and you relax as he lays you down on plush bedding, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing.

Your lids grow heavy and your mind begins turning over for the night, and you're almost asleep before he comes back, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Uh uh. Drink this for me, then you can sleep all you want, baby," he holds out a glass of water. You sit up and take it graciously, taking slow sips, careful not to spill it all over yourself. You hand the glass back to him and he sets it on his night stand. You lie back down and he runs a warm washcloth between your legs, soothing the dull ach while massaging your legs.

"So.. wanna take a trip to my favorite yakitori stand, tomorrow?" The question comes out of nowhere.

You crack an eye open to peer at him, and shake your head, a smile on your lips.

"Keigo, bed, now. Yakitori later."

He laughs as he brings the blankets over you, tucking you in.

"Yes, ma'am."

#i am...#so tired #hahaha #this is unbeta'd soooo #bnha keigo takami #keigo takami #hawks #bnha hawks #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #ky writes #keigo takami headcanons #mha hawks #n.sfw #mha keigo takami

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banesberry-anomoly · 1 year

Text

Hello and welcome to hell our blog

We are Banesberry Anomoly, a system of 500+ headmates

We split easily due to stress and the 'tism affects that too. Please interact we love interacting with people we dont bite (this is a lie. We do bite, but its normally a friendly playful kind of biting unless you're being a dick)

Current Projects & Other blogs:

@ukulele-made-of-bricks - Sideblog for our main A-Major subsys. Used for spam and general rambling, and Ukulele also uses it to fight assholes (which you should totally go stalk from time to time cause we use it regularly to talk about shit)

@interview-dr-alto-clef - In character Clef askblog

@multiversal-traveler-clef - In character ask/rp/gimmick blog for the Timeskipper subsys, which itself is an Amaj subsys within our main Amaj subsys

@matte-blue-scooby-doo-gummy - Headmate sideblog. Its exactly what you think it is

@spamton-spammers - Spam reblog sideblog/partial gimmick blog. Tag it for notes goals games (believe me, we Will help lmfao)

Some Frequent Fronter Intros: (Will be updated regularly)

Dr. Alto Clef | Synth 🥮 Amaj subsys - Lockhost - It/Lunar/He/Silk/Eye/Shotgun

Agent Ukulele 👥 Amaj Subsys - Protector - Any X Neos/It/Shadow/He

Francis Wojciechowski 🎧 Amaj Subsys - Comfortor - They/He/Soft

Chimera | Delta 🎆 Amaj subsys - Protector(?) - It/Fur/Claw/Beast

Blaire Roth 🧦 - Co Host, Comfortor, & Caretaker - She/They/Fur/Purr/Swoop

Cryptid ♟ - Splitroject Co Host - It/He/Blood/Cut/They/Bite/Green/Hood

Eden 🛤 - Co Host & Protector - He/Ve/It

Traveler ♾ Timeskipper subsys - Gatekeeper - It/He + Neos

Feel free to send us a frq on SimplyPlural: BanesberryAnomoly

We tag tws as they are, but will try to add other varients if we have room. For ex: blood by itself would be the main tag, but well also try to add other tags aswell for those that dont have the main one filtered, like cw blood, and tw blood

Commisions info, what we post about, Tagging system, and DNI under the cut

I dont have a proper sheet yet, but we're offering commissions for cashapp, nitro, or amazon/other gift cards 8⁰]]

Sketch - $3 bust, $5 full body

Flat Colours - $5 bust, $10 full body

Shaded - $15 bust, $17 full body

Rendered - $19 bust, 35 full body

Lineless +$3

Extra character +$10-20 per depending on complexity

Background (other than simple) +$10-25 depending on complexity

Dm for examples or just look through our art tag 'Banesberry art' 8⁰]]

Art trades are also open if anyone wants to do one of those!

Interests & what we post about: Our art :], SCP, BUCKSHOT ROULETTE FUCK YEAHHHHH, TF2, Plural/System stuff, Minecraft, General Horror topics and fandoms (including analogue horror and liminal spaces), Lgbtq/Mogai/Liom, and Way too many other fandoms

TAGGING SYSTEM (Mostly the important ones and the ones we sometimes forget, will update as needed):

gremlin ramblings - original posts

Banesberry Art - our art

Berry hot sauce - Horny tag. Minors please block this along with tags like 'mdni' 'minors dni' etc. Those posts will prolly be under the mature community label anyways, but for everyones confort and safety please block those tags

Berry mild sauce - Suggestive tag. Block this if youre under 16 please

just chatting - talking tag

name.exe - detonates headmates but 'name' is replaced with the headmates name, there may be multiple of these on a post

reblog haven - reblog tag

pretty art - reblog tag for art stuff

music soup - reblog tag for music stuff

.mp4 - video tag

OCs my beloved <3 - oc tag (Ive half given up on this :sob:. Ocs are also tagged with their name. Might make an oc masterpost later to link here)

know de wae - memes we made, either in response to something or as an original post

heehoo funny go brrr - funny shit goes here

INTERESTING AS FUCK - bottom text

SPAAACE - we fucking love space please tag us in posts about space

Liminal vacation - liminal space tag

train wreck posts - posts and threads that are an absolute train wreck and will probably explode your brain /hj

Personal fandom tags (for sorting purposes and for blocking purposes for my dear mutuals):

p o n y - Ponytown tag

HH/HB - Hazbin/Helluva tag, we dont post about this very at all often but its here for when we do

BYI

-||| Please block certain tags if youre a minor or we may have to block you if we catch you interacting with those posts

-||| Feel free to make fanart of any of our ocs, headmates, or character interpretations, and make sure to tag us so we see it 8⁰]! We will likely talk about it for days, and if its art of one of our alters they will likely use it as a SimplyPlural or Pluralkit pfp (or at the very least it will go into rotation of pfps they use)

-||| You can use art as pfps, banners, etc, but please give credit somewhere, and ask before using headmate specific art. We will very likely say yes, but there may be something that we dont want used

-||| We may use slurs that we can bodily reclaim, like faggot, tranny, cripple, and retard (also, Queer isnt a slur and we will die on that hill). If youre a close friend yall can use em on us, we dont care lmao (If we talk regularly on discord youre in the green zone, otherwise ask first)

-||| We consume content critically. We may interact with fandoms that have problematic content or creators, but please do not automatically assume we support the problematic aspects of it. We are usually well aware already, and likely the reason we interact with said content is out of our control (like having headmates from said media, or hyperfixtating on it for some reason, etc.)

-||| [SCP SPECIFIC] We personally dont care if you do or dont use Bright, as long as you are spreading awareness about AB (AdminBright) being a shitty person. We are aware of the many reasons someone may be using/posting about Bright as a character (introjects, kin, etc). It may also be the case that you just havent figured out specifics for a rewrite yet, or you cant quite let go of Bright for whatever reason, be that him being a comfort character or otherwise. We dont care if you use Bright, Shaw, Myriad, or another rewrite as long as 1. You are not harrassing others for who they use/are posting about; 2. You follow others boundaries. If they dont want their Bright art to be tagged with Shaw or any rewrite, then dont do it, and vise verse what have you; 3. You dont support AB and spread awareness of their shitty and gross behavior (also, AB uses they/them pronouns. Just because someone is a bad person doesnt mean you should purposely misgender them). That being said, we have several Bright introjects in our system, though we will not be posting about Bright as a character on our main blog, we will be mainly posting about Dr Shaw or our rewrites (several of which are present in our sys as headmates). We also interact with rewrite creators quite a lot- if you do not want to see rewrites then please block their tags as we will be doing our best to tags rewrite content (partially out of a need for sorting things, and partially because we know some people dont want see certain rewrites). We may make a sideblog at somepoint for our Bright introjects to have a place to interact in those tags freely, feel free to block the sideblog once that gets made if you'd like.

-||| We are firmly Anti-Harrasment. This is mainly in reference to syscourse, as people will get harrassed on both sides of things, but applies to other things too. I dont care what side of things youre on, Im not gonna fuckin harrass you for it, because 1. Its not worth it, 2. The block button exists, and 3. Nobody should be harrassed. People can change their opinions over time. If you dont agree then dont interact, its a simple as that. Dont fucking misgender people because you dont like them, weaponizing someones transness aginst them is fucking transphobic and I will block you if you are doing it on purpose (if its an honest mistake/you didnt know, thats a different story). Harrassment serves to help no one, and only makes things worse. If you are here to harrass us via our askbox, expect to get made fun of. If you come onto our blog and our safe space and send us threats, then put in effort or we will correct your hate mail like a teacher correcting their students grammar errors.

-||| Were anti-misinfo. If we see misinformation, we may gently to to correct someone. We also encourage people to do the same with us as long as you are no malicious about it. We are down for civil conversation, and in fact enjoy debating about certain thing so we can get to know others viewpoints, but keep it in dms is all I ask. We may use a sideblog, but would prefer to keep it in dms.

-||| Neutral leaning neg on the overall TransID community, and highly critical of it. We have no idea what the fuck is going on there, but would prefer to stay away from it and would rather them not to interact, especially since there is quite a large overlap with the proship community. And by 'TransID', I mean stuff like trans-race/trace (when not used in the adoptive sense), trans-age (chonosians/age regressors/etc are exempt provided you stay aware about both body and mental age), perma-whateverthefuck (We have seen shit like perma-groomed. What in the actual hell is wrong with you. Kindly fuck off please), etc etc. You know who you are. Alterhumans dont fall under that category. Those who think it does are either greatly misinformed, or have encountered someone/some people that are part of both communities.

DNI

Queerphobes, Racists, Anti-Semitic people, Israel supporters, TERFS/RADFEMS, Pedos/MAP/NOMAP/Etc, Groomers fuck off challenge, Proshippers, TransID, bring syscourse onto our blog, Anti-Endos (Endo neutrals are fine to interact), people against mspec lesbians/gays and other good faith identities, you weaponize being trans against/purposely misgender someone as soon as you dont like them

Scamkiller and Spooky-Hey supporters (SCPblr specific), AdminBright/TheDuckman defenders, Wilbur Soot supporters

We block liberally

#tagging system #pinned post #Updated: May 9th 2024

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terror-slut · 2 years

Text

Change of Heart

Chapter 07/?? Click HERE for this fics masterlist!

Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.

Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader

Word count: 2149

Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, torture, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N), no described defining features for reader. Ratings may change as chapters are being added.

A/N: and when I felt like I was an old cardigan… you put me on and said I was your favourite.

Strolls in 1,5 month late, who’s surprised… Not that it’s an excuse but I got a promotion at work, got covid and Sumeru came out so I was a little distracted 😭 dottore anyone???

Careful knocks rap against the white door of Dr. Brenner’s office. Without bothering to look up from the pile of paperwork in front of him, he gives a low hum that grants the unseen person behind the door permission to enter. With a soft click, the door opens.

“You wanted to see me, Martin?”

“Yes, Doctor. Come on in,” he says, re-capping the fountain pen that delicately rests between his fingers before he lazily gestures to an empty chair across from him.

The pediatrician sends her superior a tight lipped smile as she takes her seat. Dark circles have appeared underneath her eyes again, just like they had a few weeks prior. Dr. Brenner decides against commenting on her exhausted appearance, figuring there is nothing to be gained by doing so. If she wishes to share her troubles, he knows she will do so out of her own volition.

“So,” he begins. “How are the children?”

The question that leaves his lips is not the question she anticipated he’d ask, and her tense shoulders slightly lower, in sync with her guard. What she had expected instead were questions about Henry, perhaps followed by a scolding on her inability to deliver. Instead, Dr. Brenner seems occupied with his test subjects. Thankfully, her results on that front are a far cry from the lack luster results Henry has provided her with.

“They’re quite well. 002 seems to grow stronger by the day and little 011 is making great progress in regards to opening up and accepting her powers,” the pediatrician eagerly replies, happy to have her mind taken off of Peter for just a moment.

Dr. Brenner hums in approval, his blue eyes intently focused on her own. It takes her a lot not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. If it wasn’t for a good dose of common sense, she’d think Brenner could read her mind.

“I think 011 could benefit from a little more one on one counseling. She seems to trust you a great deal,” the pediatrician rambles on.

“Yes, I think you’re right. Building a parent-child relationship pays off just as I expected it would,” he replies, more so speaking to himself than to her, but as she has previously read his notes on Henry, it’s not difficult to figure out that he is speaking of his trial of errors from before. Unsure of what to say next, she stays silent.

Not much at all had changed with Peter. After their initial talk where he so carelessly cut off the ties between the two of them, she hasn’t had the guts to talk to him again, afraid of the cruelty that might leave his mouth next.

His words, his lies, still echo around her mind as she mulls them over time and time again. “Don’t take it personally, doctor. I simply prefer to keep my personal life separated from my work and vice versa.”

His personal life, she thinks, and resists the urge to scoff. Such an obvious lie, yet she couldn’t call him out on it without exposing her own muddled truth, much like a biologically faulty spider trapped within its own sticky web.

Since that faithful morning where Peter claimed they were simply just co-workers and he was only being friendly with her, that friendliness has dissipated into nothingness. The pediatrician is quite certain the tall blonde is avoiding her at all costs, and speaking to her seems completely out of the question for him.

Her mood swings between annoyance and desperation. She wants his friendship back, the attentiveness he treated her with those first six months. She wants him back. But above all, the pediatrician still wants to help him. Her anger disappears like snow on a sunny day whenever she gets reminded of the boy behind the now fully grown man. Whatever his reasoning is for locking her out of his life, her determination has far from watered down.

Empathy mingled with sympathy washes over her in quiet waves when she thinks of the pictures of young Henry Dr. Brenner has shown her once, back when he still had a family, back when he was still allowed to go outside. What would he look like now if nature regularly embraced him? Hair bleached by the sun, his skin warm and tan… She can picture it perfectly, with herself by his side in the prettiest sundress, happy. Normal…

“And Peter?” The sudden deep voice startles her out of her daydreams, Brenner’s icy gaze coldly assessing her.

“W-what?” She asks brainlessly before quickly pulling herself together. “What about Peter?”

“Let me be frank,” he says, placing his folded hands on the desk between them. She knows those words can’t mean anything good. “You haven’t turned in any progress reports for weeks now.*”

The silence that follows is thick with an uncomfortable tension. She can think of a million lies to tell her boss but she ends up settling for a half truth.

“It takes some time. He’s a complicated man. I don’t want to overwhelm him,” she answers. It only takes a second for Dr. Brenner’s expression to sour, far from satisfied with her answer.

“I hired you because you promised to deliver,” he speaks, his tone soft but his words harsh.

“I know,” she agrees meekly.

“If you fail to deliver, I can no longer justify your paycheck to the board,” he says as she worries her lip between her teeth.

“I understand, Sir,” she replies, although she really wants to throw the fact that he has had years to work with Henry, and still left empty handed in his face.

His expression softens when his gaze falls on her worried face and he reaches out to put his warm hand over her own.

“I know you can do it, doctor,” he says, and gives her hand a little squeeze. “And I know it takes time, but the board wants to see results. Just hand in a report with what you’ve been doing, I’m sure they’ll lighten up.”

Dr. Brenner pulls back from her and straightens his back while he sends her a kind smile, the one she knows he uses on the kids, too. With some difficulty, she suppresses a shiver.

“I’ll start right away,” she says, standing up from her seat. “Thank you for your advice, sir.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replies, a toothy smile plastered on his face. The pediatrician can’t help but compare him to a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Oh, and please send the next one in on your way out, Doctor.”

“Will do,” she answers absentmindedly, already drafting up the report the board so desperately wants in her head. Can they not understand that she has more to do than just Henry? That he is complicated, and she doesn’t want to rush him when she knows, they all know, he can react unpredictably.

With a scoff, she closes the door to Martin’s office behind her. Business has no place in medicine, she thinks to herself for the umpteenth time since the start of her career.

Sunken so deep in her own thoughts, she doesn’t see the white figure in front of her until she collides with the hard planes of a firm chest.

“Oh, apologies! I was just-“ words escape her when it’s Peter’s blonde hair that comes into view. He looks as disoriented as she feels when he softly grabs her shoulders to create some distance between them, while simultaneously stabilizing her.

“Just what?” He repeats, and those are the first words he’s spoken to her in weeks.

“… Just thinking,” she finishes, though the warmth of his hands on her shoulders makes it hard for her to focus on anything else. What would it be like to feel his hands elsewhere? If only they would slide past her shoulders, down her arms to her waist and grab her there, pull her closer to him… She blushes at the thought. Now is not the time, she reminds herself.

“Don’t think too hard,” he says. “You might hurt yourself.”

Though he could be making a dig at her, his soft, full lips are curled into a smile. Relieved, she lets out a laugh.

“Thanks for the warning,” she smiles. With some difficulty, he responds with a smile of his own. God, she’s so beautiful.

Though her mind feels fuzzy and her heart seems to beat out of her chest, it only takes a second of clarity for her to wonder why exactly he’s on this side of Hawkins Laboratory.

“No orderly duties for today?” She asks, her curiosity overtaking the urge to take in his beauty for as long as he’d let her.

“Oh, no,” it’s only then that he lets go of her shoulders, and the sudden lack of warmth that his hands had created makes her shiver. “Not for another hour. Dr. Brenner has requested to see me.”

The subtle shiver from earlier quickly merges into a cold chill all over her body. The pediatrician doesn’t know what to think of this newfound information, but she knows it can’t be anything good. Regardless, she sends him a kind smile.

“Oh?” She asks casually, letting curiosity win once again. “What for?”

“I suspect it’s just a performance review,” he replies, taking a step back from her to create some distance.

Stay in control, Henry.

“Well, good luck then, Peter. I’m sure there is no reason to worry,” she says with a soft smile. Her heartbeat increases when he returns hers with one of his own. Oh God, how she has missed his movie star smiles, his presence, his voice…

“I’m sure,” he repeats, and when he steps past her, his shoulder brushes softly against her own and with great difficulty, she suppresses the urge to grab his hand.

“Have a good one,” she says instead, and instantly regrets her own stupid stiffness.

For his part, Henry lets her words bounce off of the shielded walls he has put up for when she happens to be around, something he seems to have a sixth sense for. Even when she doesn’t notice him, he always sees her. It seems the more he tries to avoid her, the more she appears around him.

With a fast rap, he knocks on Brenner’s office door. The white haired man grants him permission to enter and in turn, Peter makes his way into the bleak room, shaking all thoughts of the pediatrician.

“Please, take a seat, 001,” Brenner says, but Peter shakes his head.

“I’m fine where I am,” he states, refusing to be in a position where he can’t easily get away should it come to that.

“I won’t hurt you, 001. You know me better than that,” despite his friendly demeanor, Peter has learned his lesson a long time ago. Have your guard up at all time. His kindness is a trap.

“Suit yourself,” Martin says when Peter’s silence stretches out. “I’ve requested you here to ask how you’ve been, 001.”

His muscles involuntarily tense up as a chill spreads across his back at Brenner’s unassuming question.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Peter replies. The fear that freezes up his entire body is nothing new to him or the little boy he once was. That same question is usually followed by physical pain that would haunt him for days to come, no matter how carefully he chooses his response.

“Oh, not to worry 001. If you had, I would have known about it long before asking you about it,” the older man says, a smile fitting for a man like him on his lips. Peter doesn’t dare exhale the breath he holds.

“No, that’s not what I’m asking you,” Dr. Brenner says, when Peter stays silent. He crosses his arms as the silence protrudes. “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

Peter briefly wonders if the white haired man means to trick him with this question. Memories of the past few weeks replay before his eyes, but he shakes his head in denial.

“Hmm,” Brenner lets out while uncrossing his arms and standing up. In a relaxed pace, he inches closer to the tall, young man standing in his office. “You ought to be more perceptive, 001. I know you have it in you.”

Their gazes connect starkly for a moment, before Brenner reluctantly takes a step away from the younger man.

“You can go,” with a ninety degree turn, he dismisses Peter, who in turn can’t seem to leave the frigid office fast enough. His heart beats wildly in his throat when he exhales several shaky breaths, Brenner’s words replaying in his head over and over.

The old man has his ways to drive Peter crazy, torture him psychologically as well as physically. He never knows what part of what Martin tells him he can believe, but Peter knows one thing.

He was alluding to the pediatrician.

A/N: I just realized the reason I hate my own writing is because it’s too academic? Also Brenner is a meddling mfer…

* this is a subtle dig at my own shitty update progress LMAOO I’m a little funny

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lunaetis · 1 year

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@75bpm asked :

❝ stop saying i’m jealous. i’m not— i just. i don’t like having to share. ❞ conrad and cattleya ofc in any verse cos ueueueueueueuueueueue

JEALOUS, FIERCELY PROTECTIVE & TERRITORIAL PROMPTS. || accepting

─「カトレア」─ given the TIME OF THE YEAR, it was only expected that the amount of work for each auto memories doll would be through the roof due to the high demand of people wanting to send letters to their loved ones in blessing of new year. as one of the most popular dolls in ch postal company, cattleya herself had a long list of requests lined up throughout the month itself. a duty to which, of course, she had taken with great pride and dedication.

that said, some of the customers did have a bit of underlying motives in coming to see her aside of REQUEST for letter-writing, clearly observed with the way they would stay behind even after their business had been done and their requests in the process. not to mention the repeated invitations for lunches or dinners, or even a day off proposed her way, to which the DOLL had politely declined.

however, today she had already made plan with a CERTAIN SPECIAL SOMEONE that had her in a better mood than usual, and it seemed her sweeter smile had charmed a few of the passersby enough to have her lover looking rather grumpy from where she spotted him.

" i apologize, but i already have plans for today. thank you for the invitation. i hope you have a nice day ! " with a grin and a friendly wave, she made her way back to her beloved who was waiting at the door. her arm immediately looped around his own, head tilting with a tender look in those amethyst hues. was he pouting, she wondered ? how rare.

" there's no reason for you to be jealous, you know ? i only have eyes for you. " a teasing poke followed her words, hoping to bring a smile back to his face to which he immediately countered —

❝ stop saying i’m jealous. i’m not— i just. i don’t like having to share. ❞

the words themselves made her hold back a gentle grin of her own. really, while she felt a little GUILTY for holding back a laugh, cattleya couldn't help thinking how he was absolutely adorable when he's like this. he had always been a mature and reasonable man, after all. so to see a more childish side to him was a treat all on its own. not to mention that it made her heart well in warmth and delight to know he was acting like this because of her.

with a giggle, she stopped him from walking out by pulling him back. arms then threw upwards to loop themselves around his neck, guiding him down and lovingly placed an affectionate kiss upon his lips. the touch itself was like a brush of butterfly's wings, but soft enough for him to feel her LOVE reserved for no one but him.

" you're so cute when you're jealous. " before he could protest, however, she silenced him with another kiss to his lips, a LONGER and slightly deeper one this time. it was fortunate that no one was left in the room by that time, not that cattleya had any qualms showing her affection in the eyes of others. head tilted to the side, and she weaved her fingers through his hair, brushing over his eyes before sealing the deal with a peck to the corner of his mouth.

" there's no one who could own my heart like you do, love. i belong to you, and you alone. " a tender laugh escaped her.

" ah, but i have to confess. i can't help feeling so happy when you get jealous over me, so much that i want to see it more. would you forgive me for that, dear conrad ? "

#75bpm #.answered #.answered meme #.[ cattleya.baudelaire ]#.[ maybe in another life i knew you; maybe in another time i loved you: conrad & cattleya ]#[ SOF SOF SOF SOF #i WAS CONTEMPLATING MODERN VERSE OR V.IOLET VERSE #BUT THE LATTER WON BC I FEEL SOLDER!CONRAD SEEMS MORE IMPULSIVE #SO HE'S PROBABLY MORE LIKELY TO GET JEALOUS #MAYBE ?#jhklhjkhjlk cattleya be like ok i don't want to make him jealous but #when he's this cute when he does it's bad i wanna see it more #HJKLJHJLK dON'T TEASE YOUR HUSBAND PLS CATTLEYA ]

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iambilliejeanok · 3 years

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♥️Feel better♥️

Itachi Uchiha takes care of his sick s/o who unfortunately caught a really bad cold during their mission together. Fortunately for her though, Itachi is there to take care of his baby until they get back home and Kisame is more than happy to attend to his close partners need too. (*proceeds to cry in loneliness *)

Warnings: 18+ shit man I had to come back up here and change the entire fluff message because I got horny and now it’s no longer just fluff. I tried my best sorry. There is still a toooon of fluffy lovey dovey content, Kissing, nsfw and dirty smut and slight ddlg That’s all🙂

@sleeepy-zeepy here’s one for us and our undying love for Kisame and @mangekyoitachi there’s enough Itachi for all of us to bus a nut for☺️☺️

Rain poured outside of the hotel you slept in. The hard pitter pattering on the window made you feel very uncomfortable, which was unusual because the rain usually eases your nerves, helping you fall asleep faster. Tonight however, you wouldn’t stop squirming in bed, your body feeling a little cold as you snuggled further into your lover. “Go to sleep baby”, Itachi sleepily mumbled, kissing your forehead and wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer to him. Itachi already turned the heat up in your little hotel room and he made sure to get extra blankets for you tonight, but you still shivered beside him. He lazily pulled your shirt off, your pants coming off too as you tossed under the covers, making the job a little more trickier for him. Smiling, he placed a little peck on your cheek, whispering in your ear to ease you,

“Hey y/n, just lay still, I’ll take care of the rest”, he said, attempting to pull your pant off of your clammy skin.

“Noooo!”, you whined, kicking and shoving him away with your eyes closed, the intense tingly sensation flowing through your body making you feel very agitated.

“We have to get these off of you”, he said, almost forcefully holding you still so he could get this over and done with. Itachi just knew you were coming down with a fever the moment you stepped into the hotel. The pouring rain outside having drenched you, himself as well as Kisame, but they felt fine and you were a little uncomfortable.

After washing you down in a nice hot shower he finally managed to get you in bed, and now he had to take your pajama’s off so you didn’t heat up in the night. He also thought that having your skin pressed against his would help with your shivering and constant tossing.

When he held you tight, that seemed to do the trick, the heat of his body on yours feeling amazing and the skin on skin contact fired up your blood so it traveled through your body in waves of heat. Breathing out into his chest, you had first felt the warmth spreading across both of your feet, the pleasurable heat traveling upwards until you body lay still and you began to drift in and out of a much needed sleep. Eventually you’d fallen asleep, staying tucked right under Itachi’s hold until the bright morning sun shone through the misted window, the heat from the room plus the cold outside having steamed up the window well enough that the sun didn’t feel so harsh penetrating the room you two were cuddled up in.

“Is sleepy head finally awake?”, you heard the soothing deep voice above you ask. With a quick whine you buried your face into his neck, finding a better position while trying to get the covers on top of you, whining a little louder when you failed. Chuckling, Itachi helped cover you up, the vibrations of his chest soothing you back into a deep sleep while his arms wrapped around you under the covers. “There you go”, he whispered, deeply inhaling the natural scent of your skin before slightly dozing off again. You were just so exhausted, the extra sleep you snuck in confirming Itachi’s thoughts that you were definitely getting sick. He didn’t mind sleeping in with you this morning, knowing that some cozy cuddles would help get you through this much quicker and easier. He had already told Kisame that they probably wouldn’t be leaving their room today, seeing that you were a little grumpy when they walked in the hotel last night.

Kisame had woken up in the early hours of the morning, when you and Itachi were still fast asleep, getting a good workout in before he took a shower and sat in his bed to read a book, assuming that there would be a knock on his door if ever you two were ready to go back out.

Itachi couldn’t bring himself to sleep anymore, straining his neck to look over at the time. It read 12:45pm. When was the last time he slept in until noon? Carefully, he unwrapped your warm and sticky self off of him, gently brining the covers back over you before he sat up on the bed, the feel of soft cotton on his bare feet very refreshing as he stretched and yawned. A shower and probably ordering some breakfast would wake you up. Maybe you’d have to skip a shower this morning and just have breakfast.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the bright sun almost blinding you before you quickly covered yourself with the blanket. A big yawn followed by a stretch helped you wake up a little, the bed very warm and so was the room, your foot sticking out the side of the covers to test the temperature. Your throat hurt so much that even yawning was uncomfortable and you just knew that you were sick. The thought of the ongoing mission you’d have to take on today made you whine, the aches in your body bringing tears to your eyes. You could not possibly continue with your mission in this wet and cold weather. The yucky feeling washing over you enough to make you feel nauseas.

Your body automatically jumped out of the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom just in time for you to heave all the contents of your stomach out, which was mostly green tea and rice from the night before.

You couldn’t hear the door open and then shut as you still heaved over the toilet, fighting for a breath of air as your body continued to heave air over the toilet. A slightly cold hand ran down your back, another one flat against your forehead as your body finally allowed you to breathe again. “Not feeling too good today love?”, Itachi stated, wiping the wetness on your mouth with some tissues before flushing everything away. “Come here”, he said, easily scooping you in his arms to carry you to bed. “You’re very warm baby”, he said, your half naked body heating his clothed one up as he held you against him. Snuggling into his shirt, you appreciated the coolness his clothes brought against your skin from being outside the warm room.

A knock sounded at the door, Itachi quickly placing you under the covers to go and answer it. It was probably Kisame. His very close and trusted partner. “Kisame”, Itachi greeted, leaving the door open for him to enter while Itachi walked away to turn down the heat. “It’s way too hot in here Itachi”, the shark man groaned, closing the door behind him. “So she’s sick?” he asked, seeing you tossing a little under the heavy blankets. “Very”, Itachi replied, “I don’t think we should head out until she’s better. It’s just not going to work out until she’s in her right mind again”.

“I figured”, shark man replied, walking over to stand beside your bed. “Hey”, he awkwardly greeted. Noticing the bare skin of your shoulders be thought it be best he left now. At least until you were dressed. As he turned around to leave your warm hand caught his colder one, the coolness never fading away as your clammy hand remained in his large cold one. “Kisame, hey”, you whispered, your breasts now fully exposed from reaching out for his hand. Kisame felt his cheeks warm up at the lovely sight, quickly turning his head away in respect of yours and Itachi’s privacy.

“Uhm…y/n”, Kisame cleared his throat, looking over at Itachi for help, but his friend was too busy working on breakfast in the kitchen. “What’s wrong Kisa?”, came your raspy voice. “Well, your…uhm, your breasts”, Kisame answered, trying to look at everything but the voluptuous mounds on your chest, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand while the index and middle finger of his other hand were held by your loose and warm grip. “Oh sorry”, you said, letting go of his hand to snuggle further under the blankets. With a friendly huff he took a step back, turning around to walk toward the kitchen and talk to his friend, breathing in deep to ease the nerves you just spiked up.

“Kisame!”, your voice cracking at the end, a little cough escaping at your attempt to raise your voice. Shark man immediately turned on his heels, looking over at you in surprise. He was well aware of how needy and clingy you were, that was your natural personality and he kind of liked that about you. Sometimes your hugs and cheek kisses made him feel a little bit better, having you around was wholesome. He was glad you were with Itachi. The two of you were friends he never thought he’d be able to have. People that he was worried he could actually trust.

“Yes y/n…you okay?”, he asked, fully turning to face you, drowning in the comfort of your bed. Sharp white teeth peaked through his mouth when he saw your hand come out the blankets in search for his. Taking a few steps closer, he finally held your warm hand, his large one completely engulfing your own. The coolness you felt radiate from him was kind of nice and he could say the same about the warmth from your hand.

“You’re very warm y/n”, he said, running his thumb over your wrist, you wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing, smiling up at him when you responded, “Its freezing out there”. A light chuckle left his lips, “Y/n it’s ninety degrees in here , you can’t possibly still be co-”, he began to say, but his words were cut off when you casually sat up in the bed, stretching with your arm out wide before dropping it to the covers. He stood frozen in place, your hand still holding on to his. “Itachi!”, Kisame called, very loud, unable to handle the sight of your bare chest before him, your nipples a little perky from the slight change in temperature between the covers and the air around you.

“Kisame?”, Itachi responded, leaning against the door frame, “What?”, he asked, completely unphased by his half naked girlfriend holding onto his most trusted friend’s hand. Kisame looked a little confused, cocking his head in your direction while maintaining eye contact with him. A bead of sweat fell down the side of his forehead and it was not because the room was warm. “Can you get her a fucking shirt?” , Kisame finally spat out, unable to control the growing erection in his pants. “Sure”, was all Itachi said, grabbing one of his shirts from a bag pack and tossing it over at Kisame. “I have to make sure the soup doesn’t burn”, he said, hurrying to the kitchen, Kisames eyes widening in disbelief as he watched his friend disappear into the other room.

Swallowing he looked over at you and you looked right back at him, letting go of his hand to put both your arms up, your actions further exposing the shape and swell of your breasts. “What?”, Kisame asked, having long given up on not staring at your breasts, your dark and pretty brown areolae sweetly surrounding your brown nipples. Maybe they taste just as good as they loo- “Kisa?”, you called, distracting him from his heated thoughts as his eyes shot right back to yours. “Oh sorry uh, what’s up?”, he stuttered, fighting for his life trying not to stare again. “I’m ready for the shirt”, you said, lifting your arms up again. “Oh…o-okay”, he said a little confused. “Here”, he handed the shirt to you. “Please put it on for me?”, you sweetly asked, looking right into his eyes. How could he possibly say no to you. There was something so gentle about you that made him feel like he was crazy for not thinking of putting it on for you himself and for just a young second he almost understood the relationship between you and Itachi. Why you were so affectionate towards one another. It felt nice to be needed, even if it was in the smallest ways, like putting your shirt on for you.

“There”, he said, standing back so you could pull it down and fix it to your liking. “Thank you”, you yawned, lifting your arms up and making grabby hands. His eyebrows furrowed again, what’s this supposed to mean? “Pick her up”, Itachi said, bringing the breakfast into the room and placing it on the little wooden table not too far from the window. Kisame spun on his feet to look over at Itachi. This was weird. How was Itachi okay with any of this? This was his significant other. His lover. Partner. Literally his world and he was just letting him join it? “Uh, Itachi?”, he asked, now very confused. “I just saw your woman naked and now you want me to pick her up?”, he bluntly stated, unable to hold back the confusion any longer. “I don’t feel comfortable doing that”. Itachi sighed out loud enough, walking towards his friend. “Kisame, I thought we were partners?” Itachi asked.

“Yes we are”, shark man responded.

“And so is Y/N?”, Itachi asked again.

“Yes of course”.

“Then I want you to love and take care of her like you do for me. We’re all partners here and we should all take care of each other and trust one another. It also makes me quite happy that Y/N trusts you enough to ask for your care. That’s not something she takes lightly with just anyone….she’s sick and she needs both of us for a speedy recovery”,Itachi said, turning on his heels and walking away to go get another tray of food.

“Like she’s my girlfriend too?”, Kisame asked, a short huff leaving his mouth, finding the situation so ridiculous that he couldn’t help but be amused, but Itachi’s next words completely threw him off guard.

“Yes. You’re more than welcome to have her as your lover. She has more than enough love to give the both of us”.

“Wha-”

“Kisaaa, pick me up”, you whined, running out of patience as you waited for the two men to finish conversing.

“Go ahead, and come eat breakfast. She’s also really soft…unless you do-”, Itachi said but was cut off by the loud squeal that came of your mouth.

Kisame quickly placed both his large hands under your armpits and lifted you off the bed, your legs immediately wrapping around his bulky waist and your arms wrapping around his neck, a small satisfied smile on your lips as you nuzzled your face into his neck.

Itachi was totally right. You were extremely soft. Your breasts squishing against the muscular expanse of his chest, the warmth radiating from your body covering him like a blanket. The thighs that wrapped tightly around him and the way you snuggled into him made him feel tingly inside. Warm. You actually wanted him?

Obviously this wasn’t the first time Kisame had been with another woman, but it was surely the first time he’d experience affection on this level. The way you hugged him and clung to him like you’d normally do to Itachi made him feel needed, automatically making him wrap his arms around you and hold you closer to him, inhaling the natural scent of your skin.

“She needs to eat”, Itachi said from across the room, sitting down on the cushion closest to the wall. Kisame felt so relaxed as you held onto him, finally understanding why you and Itachi babied one another so much. He felt like he was melting, enjoying this so much that Itachi’s voice nearly startled him.

“Here eat”, Itachi said, bringing up the renge with hot soup to his mouth to blow before bringing it to your mouth. “Baby”, Itachi nudged you, smiling because you were falling asleep as you snuggled into his arm. “Huh?”, you said, your eyes barely open, trying to get yourself together and failing because of how awful you felt. “Come here”, Itachi mused, pulling you to sit in the little space between his legs so he could feed you better.

Kisame smiled at the two of you, his heart warming at the love Itachi was showing you, wondering if he could ever give that or receive that with you while he ate his food too.

After breakfast Itachi cleaned up, giving Kisame a chance to take care of you too. This was the perfect opportunity for the two of you to bond better…on a more emotional sense.

Kisame scooped you up from Itachi’s arms and placed you back in bed, your throat feeling much better from the soup you ate. You probably wouldn’t stay sick for more than two days with how well Itachi took care of you.

As Kisame was about to turn away after tucking you in, he felt your fingers close on his index and middle finger again, making him turn around to look at you. “Stay”, you sleepily said, weakly pulling him closer to you. As much as Kisame like the idea of cuddling with you, it was definitely going to take some time for him to get used to this.

Pulling the covers down, he crawled in to lay beside you, surprised at how quickly you managed to wrap yourself around him, almost laying on him like he was the damn bed. The minute you got comfortable you passed out, your steady breaths on his neck telling him that. With a sigh he pulled the blankets over you, relaxing into the soft mattress as his hands gently ran over your back.

This was nice he thought, his hand accidentally grazing your ass while he caressed you. He didn’t mean to, it’s just that because he was such a giant, you were quite small to him and your waist sat a little further above his waist, making it quite easy for him accidentally bump into your ass when he forgot that you weren’t covering his entire abdomen. Great. There goes the erection again.

He tried to calm himself down, opting to simply wrap one hand around you and place the other under his head, slowly dozing off, lulled by your slumber.

Kisame woke up with a light jolt, totally having let his guard down and succumbed to a slumber he didn’t even remember he enjoyed as much as this. How long was he asleep for? He could smell your scent all over him, realizing that his head was wrapped by your arm , your hand running through his hair while the other lightly scratched his back. If you were trying to kill him he would’ve of considered himself dead a very long time ago because your touch just made him so weak. That’s probably why he slept for so long. “I think he’s awake”, he heard you say, lifting his head up to look at you, his cheeks heating up at the realization that his face was buried right between your breasts. “Oh I’m sorry”, he said, quickly jerking back. “It’s okay”, you chuckled, “Someone was a little more tired than I was”, you chuckled again, your usual character coming back a little. That soup and some rest must of done the trick he thought to himself. “Kisame, glad you could catch up on rest”, Itachi said, right behind you, his hand reaching under the shirt he let you wear and slowly traveling up. He did that so casually, shuffling closer to you and pushing his knee between your thigh, the long and sweet kisses he placed on your neck making Kisame feel rather uncomfortable. Why was Itachi doing this right in front of him.

A feint sigh left your lips at the small roll of Itachi hips against your ass, his hand obviously cupping your breast under the shirt you wore, a tug of your nipple making you softly moan. Itachi continued to kiss your neck, softly sucking as he went along, getting closer and closer to your lips.

Kisame wanted to leave. He would’ve left long time ago if it hadn’t been for the way you held eye contact with him while Itachi fondled you, your hand lightly running along his beefy arm, while the other now intertwined with Itachi’s, gently gripping his arm when Itachi pinched your nipple harder.

Kisame was already rock hard, his erection forming an obvious tent in his pants. What the hell were you doing to him? Fuck y/n.

As Kisame contemplated his next move, Itachi’s hand slipped out from your shirt and reached out for Kisame’s. The shark man swallowed, a little nervous of where this was going. He had to admit to himself that the two of you made him feel very shy. You were just so beautiful, so soft and you smelled so good. He’d never been with a woman this intimately and the fact that his friend was inviting him into the world he was living in made him blush.

“You’re more than welcome to back out at any point”, Itachi said, breaking his mouth away from your skin to speak, leading his hand to your lower tummy. “Do you want to see her breasts?”, Itachi asked, Kisame almost choking on his spit, upset with himself for being so awkward. He’s made a mess of plenty of woman in his lifetime, quite easily, bringing them to a whiny ball of tears each time. He was natural at pleasing women, he actually craved for it sometimes. He craved to feel nails clawing his back and the clear liquid coating his face. He craved the way it smelled and the way it tasted, the sounds they made. He desired all of it but here and now he was worried that he wouldn’t be enough for you. What if he couldn’t please you how you wanted? Even if he asked…you were so gentle in everything you did and he was worried he would be too rough for you. Maybe a little aggressive. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off.

“Kisame it’s okay. Princess, be a good girl and get on your knees so our friend can help you out of your shirt”, Itachi spoke, noticing the hesitance in his friends eyes.

“Yes daddy”, you replied, already in sub space, getting to your knees with both men helping you, also now on their knees. Itachi behind you and Kisame in front of you.

Daddy? Kisame wondered, his dick twitching at how you easily obeyed your lover, the word coming out of your mouth in such a seductive manner, never breaking eye contact with Kisame.

Lifting up your hands, Kisame lifted up your shirt too, gulping at the wonderful sight of your breasts once again, before looking back up at your beautiful face. Itachi’s hands traced down your sides, gently cupping each mound and squeezing them, making Kisame swallow some more.

“My Princess is quite sensitive”, Itachi spoke, lightly pinching your nipple, Kisame witnessing the way your lips parted and your back arched a little, Itachi pulling you a little closer to him, he’s knees on either side of you as he dove in to kiss your neck, pulling out more soft whines and whimpers, Kisame nearly panting at how your body reacted, squirming in Itachi’s hold as he sucked and bit at your skin, leaving a trail of red marks behind. The sounds you made would even bring a man like him to his knees, your back arching and your hands clawing at Itachi’s hands as he got rougher, kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples, causing you to whine out in frustration, your hips grinding the air for relief, your eyes barely managing to stay opened as you kept contact with Kisame.

“Would you like to try?”, Itachi asked, looking at Kisame with a hopeful look, watching him desperately nod.

Itachi smiled, “ Princess”, he called, “Yes daddy?”, you answered,

“Do you want Kisame to touch you too?”.

“Yes daddy”, you moaned, enjoying the way he still pinch and pulled at your sensitive nips.

A loud smack sounded, followed by a sharp gasp, Itachi having slapped your breast quite hard. “Whatever happened to your manners sweetie?”, he asked, lightly smacking the same breast again, Kisame deeply appreciating the way it bounced at the impact. Your hips jerked forward in hot want.

“I’m sorry daddy”, you apologized, your voice a little whiny. Such a good girl, Kisame thought, his heart beating like drum at how easily Itachi handled you, excited with how well you reacted. Was he allowed to spank you too? Was he allowed to punish you? To deny you? Make you beg and cry? No. It was all too soon he thought. He would definitely scare you away. Little does he know…

“Try that again”, Itachi spoke, his voice deeper than usual.

“Kisaaa”, you called, the way you said his name convincing enough, that it already sounded like you were begging. “Please will you touch me too”, you asked, and that was enough for him.

A soft sigh left your lips when his cool hands made contact with your hot skin, gently kneading them before squeezing, his eyes only breaking away from yours to watch how your breasts filled his palms, loving the weight of them in his hands.

“Don’t be afraid to play with her. She’s a very good girl”, Itachi spoke, taking your mouth into his in a searing hot kiss, tracing his tongue along your lips, pulling it back into his mouth when you tried to latch onto it, making you whine out in frustration. Kisame decided to test the waters, pinching your nipples between his thick fingers. Lightly jolting at the sudden pain you moaned, the smell of your arousal now clouding Kisames head, bringing out the inner shark in him. He didn’t want to be rough with you, but he didn’t know how else to be. He figured he’d just embrace who he really was like you always told him to, hungrily latching onto your nipple, immediately sucking and nipping, his sharp teeth introducing a sensation totally different from Itachi’s. It was way more intense and stung much more too, the pain drenching your black, cotton undies with your want. Itachi swallowed all your moans, holding your hips down toward him so you’d stop squirming and Kisame could enjoy himself in peace.

“Baby, does that feel good?”, Itachi asked, only centimeters away from your lips, your eyes lazily looking into his red ones.

“Yes, so good”, you breathed, your seductive voice forcing a low growl from Kisame, causing your hips to jerk forward too, Itachi immediately slamming them back to him.

He found your lips again, finally allowing you to suck on his tongue, your teeth accidentally grazing it as you tried to take the delicious pain Kisame inflicted on your breasts.

When Itachi noticed you were parting from him his hand came up to bury itself in your hair, now tongue fucking your pretty mouth, enjoying the way you sucked on it.

Kisame was far gone in the taste of your skin, your back perfectly arching for him and your nipples now extremely sensitive from having undergone his constant attention to each one. You yearned for more, the fire inside of you only burning Kisame, your squirming slightly nerving him. But you weren’t able to voice your need for more since your tongue was now Itachi’s treat and Kisame didn’t halt from his attack on your nipples, your soft moaning only music to their ears.

Tracing a straight line down to your heat, pressing his long index finger against your clothes folds, adding light pressure spot you needed it the most.

Itachi broke the kiss, oh how you loved kissing him. Sometimes all you wanted to do was kiss him. And the two of you would kiss for hours, tasting each other’s mouths and feeling each other’s bodies.

“Please!”, you whined, trying to grind you hips against Kisame’s finger but Itachi stopped you, making you whine louder.

He needed you to come hard. At least three times so you could sleep the night away. And he wouldn’t be mean tonight because you weren’t feeling well and with an additional man pleasuring you, he really didn’t not want to overwhelm you.

“Here baby, let me help you”, came Kisame’s voice, your nipples finally getting a break from his delicious torture. Something about Kisame calling you baby made your heart sour. “Okay Kisa”, you moaned, letting him slide your panties off of you, adjusting yourself so you could help him get rid of them.

Once they were off, your legs lay on either side of him, draped over his thighs, Itachi having placed a pillow under your lower back to get you to cum faster. The easier you came the more often you came and the more often you came the better rest you got. Well that was just one of his plans for tonight.

Kisame immediately understood the assignment, waiting for Itachi to help you into a more relaxed position before they could start lovingly breaking you.

You lay on your back, on top of Itachi, who fondled your breasts and enjoyed your mouth, your thighs on either of Kisame’s, your soaking heat bare and ready for Kisame to enjoy.

Kisame smiled at your squirming, placing a hand on your hip to keep you in place.

“Don’t worry sweet thing” Kisame said, his free hand rubbing your thigh. “I’m going to take good care of you, but I need you to be patient okay”, he added, placing both his hands under each of your thighs, lifting them up onto his broad shoulders. “I want to take my time, so I can savor you”, his warm breath now on your inner thighs. “So just relax and let me taste you. I promise you’ll come as soon as I’m satisfied”, he finished, his mouth now centimeters from your core, the smell so heavenly. It was your smell and he was obsessed.

Whimpering you couldn’t help but buck forward, desperate for the ache in your core to be relieved. “Ahhhhhh”, you moaned out in surprise and pleasure at the feel of something very warm and roughly textured drag between your folds. Kisame slowly dragged his tongue up and down your folds, the rough texture adding a new sensation that made your back arch. You felt him spread your lips wide open, already whimpering in delight at how he would pull your little clit in his mouth and suck on it until you came all over his face, but to your disappointment he continued to slowly drag his tongue up and down, only passing over your clitoris with slightly added pressure before dragging it back down and sinking it in your heat. “Ahhhhhh! Fuck!”, you cried out. You certainly did not want to cum like this. You did not want to cum like this.

Itachi kisses you once again, exploring your mouth, biting your lip and caressing you, while Kisame’s wonderful tongue worked you terribly closer to your orgasm, his rough tongue dragging up to your clitoris and back down to fuck your tight hole. Clearly he wasn’t joking about savoring you and you did not like that one bit.

Itachi could sense that you were about to cum, your moans turning into desperate whimpers as you struggled to kiss him back. You wanted to push him away from you so you could concentrate on not cumming, but he kept on pushing your hands back down. Out of frustration you ran hands through Kisame’s hair, gripping it so you could angle your hips so he’d finally focus on your clit, but he was very strong and you were sick and on the verge of an orgasm so it didn’t really work out.

Itachi finally broke the kiss, his eyebrows furrowing, analyzing your current frustration. You were going to cum so there was no reason for you to be this whiny.

“Princess, just relax and let Kisame take of care of you. Stop fighting him” , he softly spoke into your ear, but his words only flew out the other as you grip the sheets as hard as you can, shitting your eyes tight to try and not cum.

Kisame could sense your resistance. “What’s the matter y/n? I told you to be patient” he said, stopping all his motions to look up at you. Tears filled your eyes, your body still squirming as both men simply watched you, patiently waiting for you to respond.

“Well?”, Itachi said, placing soft kisses all over your face. “Answer him”.

You absolutely did not know what to say because nothing that you could’ve possibly said right now would make sense as to why you were fussing so much.

Kisame’s stare was so cold, and you just knew he wouldn’t give in to any begging, so you redirected your attention towards Itachi, who looked at you a little more lovingly.

“I want him to suck on my clit”, you said, embarrassed to be asking for such. Kisame heard you, interested in what Itachi’s response would be.

“Ask him to do that”, he simply said, running his thumb along your swollen lip.

Sighing in defeat you looked down at the man between your legs.

“Kisame…”, you said, feeling a little nervous with having someone you weren’t emotionally connected with pleasuring you.

“Yes, talk to me”, he said, his hand lightly rubbing the thigh that sat on his shoulder.

“Please…uhm, can you suck on my clit a little more?”, you finally asked, biting your lip at the devilish look he gave you.

“I’m still savoring you. You taste very sweet and I’d like to enjoy you for as long as I can before you start kicking and screaming at me”, he said, pushing your other thigh off of his shoulder and closer to your chest.

He smiled at your whining. “If you keep on whining I won’t let you cum…you’d like to cum won’t you?”, he asked.

“Yes pleaaasee”, you whined, a tear falling down your cheek.

“Okay then will you sit still and let me eat you out?”

“Yes Kisa”, you said, taking in a deep breath.

Itachi cupped your cheek, his dick painfully hard at the sight of Kisame between your legs, making you squirm like this.

“Good girl”, he said, coming down to softly kiss you, Kisame spreading your lips apart once again.

This time he started lazily circling your throbbing clit with his tongue, enjoying the way you arched your back, unable to buck your hips up with the new position.

When he felt you getting too excited he stopped, opting to tongue fuck you, the strong muscle stretching you out enough to make you cum, the minute he sensed you getting closer he stopped again.

Itachi swallowed your loud whine, running this thumb along your cheek.

Kisame remembered that you weren’t feeling well and if you were any other woman he wouldn’t care, he’d still break you like this, edging you to tears, but because it was you, he felt a little sympathetic, finally latching onto your clit and roughly sucking.

Your back arched off the bed, Itachi still holding you down and forcing his tongue into your mouth, hushing the harsh screams you let out as you suddenly came, the liquid that built up inside of you squirting out, Kisame happily lapping it all up, overstimulating you while at it.

The restrictions the two men had on your body drove you to tears, the pleasure exploding inside of you from having no where to go but through you. You were forced to take the pleasure, shaking like a leaf by the time your squirting subsided.

Itachi broke the kiss, admiring your beautiful orgasmic face trying to breath through the overstimulation. “Okay okay, I’ve got you, just breathe”, he whispered into your ear before looking down at Kisame who was still softly sucking on your nub, careful not to bring his rough tendencies out.

“Go ahead, she can handle another one”, he said, Kisame nodding in approval, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves with his middle finger before slowly sinking it into you, the thickness of his single finger stretching you out so well.

“Oh f-fuck!”, you cried out, your words barely forming at the pressure Kisame placed on your gspot, revealing his sharp teeth in a satisfied smile, before roughly fingering you, your poor cunt immediately gushing more, spraying all over Kisame’s beefy arm.

“Ahhh there you go. Yes good girl”, he growled, latching on to your clit again to roughly suck on it, while Itachi held you still, almost smiling at how you struggled, enjoying the pleasure your teammate gave you.

After you’d cum for the fourth time Kisame decided you needed a little break, spreading both your thighs apart and licking the juice that spilled onto your thighs, his sharp teeth leaving little bruises behind as he nipped and sucked, your body shivering and your soft moans filling the room as you slowly calmed.

Itachi cradled your up half in his arms, hushing you with kisses, cuddles and praises, gently wiping your tears away.

“You’re such a good girl, you look so beautiful with Kisame between your legs”, he whispered, wiping the sweat on your forehead off with his hands before planting a kiss there.

“Would you like another one princess?”, Itachi genuinely asked, his heart melting at the shaky “no thanks” you let out. Even through your orgasm you still remembered your manners.

As much as their dicks painfully throbbed in their pants there would be no pleasure for them tonight, yours being the priority.

“I’ll go get a towel”.

Kisame stood up and walked towards the bathroom, returning with a warm damp towel, slowly cleaning you up but his touch was not as gentle as Itachi’s, dragging the towel over your sensitive clit like you had no feelings, your hands coming up to block him but he simply held them, quickly wiping you squeaky clean before heading to the bathroom to clean himself up.

“I need you please”, you whispered to Itachi, “inside me”.

“Baby, you need to rest”

“No…please, please I really want you on top of me”, you begged, bring up your hand to cup his cheek, his eyes still slowly spinning, having recorded the entire session, capturing your vulnerable expressions.

How could he possibly say no to you, his good little princess.

“Here baby”, he said, placing you flat on the bed before coming up to stand, stripping right in front of you.

You reached your arms out for him, your hands rubbing his back he hovered above you, brining his fingers to slowly rub your clit, instantly regretting your decision to let these men get off too. You just hated for them to not have a good time too, even though they both were happy with just rubbing it out in the bathroom.

“Please slowly”, you said, wrapping your legs around his torso as he lined himself with your wet entrance.

“Anything for you love”, he said, pushing himself all the way into you with one, unexpected thrust, causing you to scream, the stretch and fullness steadily overwhelming you, making you whimper, your back arching in pleasure.

“Not too hard please daddy”, you begged, Itachi bringing your hands up above your head, pinning them down with one hand while the other held onto your hip for grip. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, your tight pussy squeezing him so deliciously.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take it care of you, just relax”, he responded, tugging you a little closer so he could get a better angle. “Ahhh! f-fuuuuck”, you screamed, the first thrust hard enough to crumble you. Now why tf did you suggest this. Now you had to hold out until the end.( gotta see it through my boi)

“Ah babyyy, you feel so good”, he said, thrusting into you again, getting into a steady slow rhythm, making you bury your head into his shoulder and biting.

He filled you so much and you wondered how you always forgot how he felt inside of you the moment he left you, his slow thrusts deep enough to stimulate your A spot (the part at the back of your vjj that people think is the cervix) and you just knew you wouldn’t last long.

His black hair dangled above you, his warm breath all over face as he spoke to you, telling you all the things he admired about you, that he would take care of you until he died, expressing how much he loves you with his heavy deep thrusts that drove you to insanity and with the sweet words from his heart. Words that you could still clearly hear even though your thighs shook and you began whimpering, you could still hear every word he spoke to you, your heart exploding with all the love you have for him, tears running down the sides of your face as you came, the feeling so intense with Itachi still making love to you.

“OoooOh m-my gosh b-b-baby, I c-can’t”, you cried, stuttering “I love you’s” to him as he chased his own orgasm, your orgasm milking him so well that he knew he would cum soon and he wondered if you could cum again.

Picking up the pace he let go of your hands, bringing one to your face while the other started rubbing your nub.

Throwing your head forward you shut your eyes tight, mouth wide open and your hands death gripping the sheets as the pleasure grew overwhelming, another orgasm threatening to crash into you so hard.

“Fuck yes! You’re so close baby, I’m so close. Ah shit! I’m going to cum baby, will you cum with me? God come with me my good little princess! I love you so much”, he moaned, chocking on his words as his thrusts grew sloppier, moaning your name as he unloaded deep inside of you. The feeling of his seed being released inside of you sending you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as your vision clouded.

Opening your eyes the entire room was dark, only the dim light of the moon coming through the window.

Your hand was resting under your chin, your body huddled very close to someone, another man pressing against your back, the feint breathing of the two men reminding you of the night you shared. With a smile on your face you turned over, trying to not wake up the two handsome men pressing on either side of you, bringing Kisame’s hand to wrap his arm around you as you softly called at Itachi.

“Itachi…Itachi, wake up”, you whispered, his head instantly jolting off of the pillow to feel for you in the dark. “Yes love, what’s wrong?”, he sleepily said, wrapping his arm around your back to pull you closer to him, the warmth you shared with the two men absolutely delicious. If you could choose you’d lay here forever, with the two men who made you feel safe and sound, happy, loved and taken care of. You mostly felt overwhelmed with love for the two of them, because even though you weren’t romantically involved with Kisame before this night, he still stood beside you like a true partner in everything.

Your felt a hand silent rub your ass, squeezing it hard enough that you let out a small gasp, wondering what Kisame was up to. “You’re all awake?”, came his deep voice, his hand pushing between your thighs to cut your naked pussy. “Uh! Kisame”, you moaned, “I just got up”.

“And You’re surprisingly wet?”, Kisame teased, placing softer kiss on your shoulder. “Why”, he asked, now running his fingers between your folds, l your juices lubricating each one so he could gently rub your clitoris.

“Oohhhhhh!”, you moaned, His fingers pushing into your tight walls, sinking in deep until he felt that spot that made you cry out in pleasure. He started slowly rubbing it, nothing compared to how rough he was early on, quickly bringing you so close to orgasm, your hand intertwined with Itachi’s , while he softly breathed, aware of what was going on but still tired.

Before you were able to cum Kisame stopped, and before you complained about it you felt his incredible size enter you, the sudden intrusion making you scream. You were so tight but he slowly kept pushing into you, spreading your ass nice a wide for him to go a little deeper.

As soon as you felt him touch your cervix your body couldn’t handle it anymore and Kisame could sense that. He was very cold a sensing these things. His fingers started circling your clit, giving you time to adjust to his size, but you already broke down, a wonderful orgasm crashing into you in intense bursts, your soft screaming having long woken Itachi up, his mouth latching into the nipple that Kisame’ was not tugging on, softly sucking on it, enjoying the softness in his mouth.

Kisame started moving, his slow thrusts very intense, leaving you screaming and whimpering with every thrust until he came hard, deep inside of you, biting your neck during his release.

You were so exhausted, your orgasms so intense having to manage his size but he didn’t pull out of you, lifting your leg up so he could get a better angle.

The new angle was absolutely sinister, making you cry, Itachi whispering sweet nothing’s in your ears to help you through it. He was going so deep, and so hard, his fingers on your clit keeping you on orgasm mode.

Having to take it easy on you and also trying to pleasure himself was a bit of a challenge for him, he need more, he needed to fuck you faster, his hips brutally picking up the pace, intensifying your orgasm and making you squirt, making a mess on everyone and the sheets.

Even after he came for the second time your cries couldn’t subside, your body still squirming as this orgasm lasted much longer.

The only thing Itachi could do was hold you tight, rubbing your back as you quivered on top of him, Kisame gently wiping the two of you clean, placing towels on the wet spots of the bed for you all to lay down on.

In the morning you felt rather refreshed, your congestion having cleared up and your throat completely healed.

Itachi and Kisame were lay on either side of you, lazily stroking you as they woke from their sleep, the sunlight filling the room once again.

You were sound asleep, too cozy to try and wake up. All you wanted to do today was lay in bed with your two partners, their arms wrapped around you like heaven.

#naruto imagines #naruto fluff #fluff week #itachi fluff #uchiha itachi x reader #itachi x reader #itachi x reader x kisame #itachi smut #itachi imagines #kisame x y/n #kisame x reader #kisame smut #kisame imagines #nsft post

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imagineaworld · 3 years

Text

leather & jeans | b.b

pairing : biker!bucky barnes x reader

summary : you walk into a biker bar to repay a debt for your brother and get more than you bargained for

word count : 1.9k

warnings : 18+ ONLY, smut, swearing, oral (m recieving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink, thigh riding, pet names

You regret offering to help your brother the moment you stepped through the door to the bar.

Loud ruckus all around you sent your heart rate through the roof, and it took everything in you to keep a calm exterior as all eyes fell on you. A momentary silence before the rowdiness resumed.

Walking into the bar owned by the local biker gang was scary enough as it was, let alone being a woman, walking in by yourself, carrying a bag full of cash.

You looked around through the sea of faces, hoping to see someone who looked mildly friendly that you could approach to ask for the man you needed. There seemed no such person. Instead, you opted to head to the bar and ask the bartender for help.

Clutching the bag on your shoulder, you made your way to the bar. On your journey through the leather-clad bodies, you bumped into someone.

“Sorry,” you blurted out, afraid of the consequences.

You looked up at the man you had bumped into. He towered over you, ruggedly handsome with long brown hair and piercing blue eyes. A black leather jacket coated his muscled body. Your eyes fell upon his left hand, made of metal, glistening in the light of the bar.

“No problem, doll,” the man replied. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, hm?”

His intense gaze intimidated you, not to mention his beautifully carved face. “I’m looking for Bucky,” you answered, slightly flustered.

“Well,” said the man. “You’re lookin’ at him. What can I do for ya?”

The man did fit the description that your brother had given you. The boss. A ruthless, violent leader. Despite this, you couldn't help but be attracted to him, the danger perhaps adding to your desire.

You'd heard from your brother about all the horrible things this man was capable of, the terrible things he'd done. Danny had told you what happened to people who didn't pay up on time.

“Danny sent me,” you explained. “I have the money.”

He didn't tell you why, but your brother owed money to the leader and was banned from the bar until it had been paid. He sent you in his place, with a shit ton of money you had no idea how he had come to possess. You didn't want to think about it.

How'd a pretty young thing like you know that low-life? Bucky thought. Better yet, what was Danny thinking, sending you to a place like this, full of men ready and willing to take advantage of you.

“Let’s see it.”

You slipped the bag off your shoulder, opened it up and displayed the contents to Bucky. He peered into the bag and assessed the stacks of cash inside.

"This all of it?" He asked, looking back up to you.

You shrugged. "As far as I know."

Your heart was still pounding and an uneasy feeling had settled into your stomach. Something didn't feel right. All around you, watchful eyes fell upon you and the leader. You tried to ignore them, tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

"Come with me."

Closing the bag and slinging it back over your shoulder, you obeyed. Bucky placed a large hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowd. Men adorned in leather jackets stepped aside, giving respectful nods to Bucky as he passed them.

He led you to a private room that resembled something like an office, though much less professional. Still, a wooden desk and chair gave the impression this was Bucky's office.

"Empty it out onto the table, darlin'," he ordered, finally removing his hand from your lower back. "I need to count it."

With the way he spoke, it was clear he was used to giving orders and having them followed. You dreaded to think about what happened to people who didn't obey him.

You did as you were told, feeling even more unsettled now that you were alone with this man. You stepped away from the money scattered on the desk, putting as much space between yourself and the man.

You watched as Bucky began to count the stacks, organising them into piles as he went. You waited in silence, not daring to interrupt him.

"Well," he spoke after he'd sorted all the stacks into piles. "Looks like it's all here."

"So what now?" You asked. "Is Danny still in trouble?"

Bucky looked at you, his eyes running up and down your body. "How'd you know Danny, sweetheart?"

A shiver ran down your spine at the nickname that rolled off his tongue so easily. "He's my brother."

He started towards you, closing the space you had put between you and him. "Danny never said he had a sister, or that she was so beautiful." Your cheeks heated at the compliment, but dread pooled in your stomach. "What was he thinking, sending a sweet little thing like you into a sinful place like this."

"I offered," you began to explain.

"That was stupid."

He slowly stalked even closer to you, like a predator catching its prey. In a bid to keep a safe distance from him, you backed away. You took a step back for every step he took towards you until your back hit the wall.

Your heart rate sped up as you realised you had backed yourself against the wall. And with Bucky advancing on you, there was no escape. Calling for help may only cause more problems.

"Don't worry, darlin'," he said darkly. "No need to be afraid. I just wanna teach your brother a lesson."

He had his body pressed up against yours, sandwiching you between him and the wall.

"Leave him alone," you breathed out. "Please."

He whispered in your ear. "Say it again." His breath was hot on your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Please," you whimpered again, ashamed at your arousal beginning to pool in your panties.

Bucky breathed in the sweet scent of your perfume, he could feel your heart thumping against his chest, hear your breath trembling. He couldn't help himself. You were so innocent, so untainted.

"What are you willing to do," he spoke gruffly into your ear, twirling his finger around a lock of your hair. "To make sure nothin' happens to your brother?"

"Anything."

He started slowly kissing behind your ear, trailing down to your neck as his beard scratched your soft skin. "Anything, hm?" He said gruffly. "Cos I've been dying to know what you'd look like with my cock buried in you since you walked through the door."

There was no denying any longer. "Bucky," you panted, desperate for his touch.

"Tell me you want it, baby," he urged, slipping a hand under your shirt. "I'll give it to you."

"Please," you pleaded. "I want it. I want you."

That was all Bucky needed to hear. He crashed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, pulling off his jacket as he did so. You let out a small yelp at the urgency with which he kissed you, his facial hair rough against your face.

He slipped a thick thigh between your legs, causing a moan to escape your lips as his thigh brushed against your pussy through the fabric of your jeans.

"You like that, hm?" He growled, kissing his way down your neck as goosebumps erupted on your skin.

You managed a breathless 'yes', but Bucky pulled hard on your hair. "Yes, daddy," he corrected.

"Yes, daddy," you repeated and he let go of your hair, satisfied with your submission.

His touch sent shockwaves through your body, and your pussy throbbed, desperate for release. You palmed him through his trousers and he let out a deep groan, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"On your knees," he ordered, removing his leg from between yours.

You obeyed, sliding down the wall to your knees as he unfastened his belt, discarding it on the floor and unzipping his trousers. He pulled out his sizeable cock, already rock hard from your touch.

"Open."

Again, you did as he told you to do, opening your mouth. He pushed his cock to the back of your throat, your eyes filling with tears as he triggered your gag reflex. Your mouth was warm and wet on his dick, and he savoured the feeling.

"Good job sweetheart," he praised. "Taking my cock so well."

Your head was pressed against the wall as he fucked your mouth, holding your hair back with his large hands. When the tears started streaming down your face, he knew you'd had enough.

"Be a good girl," he said, stepping away from you as you tried to catch your breath. "Bend over the desk for me."

You climbed to your feet and did as he asked. Bent over the desk, the used your forearms to prop yourself up slightly, so the hard, cold desk wasn't pressing into you.

"Look at this ass," he worshipped, grabbing a handful causing you to cry out. "All mine."

He yanked your jeans down, exposing your thong underneath. "Such lovely panties, you wear these just for me?"

"Yes, daddy," you mewled.

He pushed your panties aside and slipped a finger into your wet pussy. You moaned out as he curled his finger inside you.

"So wet for me, huh, baby?" He murmured, adding another finger as you clenched around him. "Such a pretty little pussy."

"Please, daddy," you whined. "I need your cock."

He chuckled darkly at your desperation. As he took his fingers out and pulled your thong down, you felt empty. He pressed the head of his cock to your sensitive clit and began lathering up your slick as he teased your entrance.

He pushed into you with a hard thrust and you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your walls. Your eyes rolled back as he started pounding into your pussy, almost feral.

"So fuckin' tight," he growled through gritted teeth as he hammered into you.

Your ecstatic moans could surely be heard by the long-forgotten men in the bar but you didn't care. Bucky, on the other hand, wanted them to hear you, wanted them to hear what he was doing to you. Show them you were his.

"Gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk," he groaned, continuing his assault. "This pussy is mine."

He was true to his word, fucking into you roughly, his large hands gripping your hips and leaving bruises to mark you as his. You were completely at his mercy, though he seemed to have none as he ignored your cries, a mixture of pain and pleasure, at the way he beat your cunt.

You had no idea how long he had been fucking you when he said, "Gonna cum inside that tight little pussy of yours."

His cock twitched inside of you before he stilled, filling you up with hot ropes of cum. He collapsed against you, sticky with sweat and panting for breath.

"You did so good for me," he murmured eventually, slowly pulling out of you and watching his cum drip down your thighs.

He helped get you cleaned up, gently wiping around our abused cunt before pulling your jeans and thong back up. Taking your flushed face in his hands, he placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

"You know where I am if you need me again."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier smut #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #bucky barnes x reader #the winter solider imagine #biker!bucky #bucky barnes au #the winter solder au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut

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respectable-username · 2 years

Text

I saw more Last Life fan art and it seeded a brain fart story idea so now I'm making it your problem!

Edit: Now edited and posted to AO3!

---

Etho was rudely dragged from his sleep as something soft and heavy dropped onto his face.

"Oh c'mon man!" he groaned, cracking his eye open against the morning sun to glare at his roommate.

"I'm bored," replied Bdubs, his back to Etho as he adjusted his hair in the window's reflection. "You sleep too long."

"It's like 8am."

"Exactly. I've had to entertain myself for a whole 2 hours now!"

Etho grumbled, dragging whatever had landed on him off his back as he sat up, his fingers digging into the soft, green fabric.

"Bdubs, don't you have somewhere better to put your jacket?"

"Try it on!"

"But why?"

Bdubs turned back to face Etho. A very familiar black headband sat atop his forehead.

"Oh no no no no no."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun!" said Bdubs, snatching Etho's jacket off the floor and pulling it on. His hands barely made it out the ends of the sleeves.

"For who?"

"Just think of all the pranks we could pull. Think of the look on Grian's face! 'Aww it's just Bdubs.' 'Aha! No, it's Etho! Run for the hills little man! The PvP master is after you.'"

"You know I'm really not that good at PvP–"

"And anyway, I've seen you looking at my jacket. So soft. So green. So warm. Don't you just wanna wrap it around your shoulders? Feel the soft moss brushing against your cheek?"

Etho hadn't even notice himself rubbing the gentle material between his fingers. He pushed it off onto the bed beside him, half covering it with his blanket as he swung his feet out onto the floor.

"You know it'll never work. One of us is gonna end up dead. Probably you."

"How about if I throw in the clock?"

This got Etho's attention.

"You'll let me wear your clock?" Etho said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure, sure," said Bdubs as he picked it up off his own bedside table, his smile straining as his fingers brushed along its gilded surface. "Nobody would believe you were me if you didn't have my clock."

Etho pulled the jacket on.

"Hand it over," he said with a wry smile. The jacket really was as comfortable as it looked.

Bdubs' fingers clenched tighter around the clock.

"Bdubs, you promised."

Bdubs sighed, walking over to Etho and placing it into his waiting hand. He hesitated.

"Don't you dare lose it!" said Bdubs. "I'll know if you replace it with a different one."

"I won't. I promise."

Bdubs let go of the clock. Etho reached down and hooked it into place on his belt.

"How do I look?" Etho stood up and did a twirl.

"Almost as good as me. So, an improvement."

This earned Bdubs a friendly shove, chucking as he stumbled a few steps back towards his own side of the room.

The laughter stopped as something caught Bdubs' eye. His eyes went wide as an evil grin crossed his face.

"Oh no no no. I know that look. Whatever it is, no!"

Bdubs looked down at Etho's mask, sitting neatly folded on his bedside table. He looked up at Etho.

"Can I?"

"No."

"It would be funny."

"But it's my mask."

"I let you wear my clock!"

"But it's my mask. People will see me!"

"I can see you right now!"

"Yeah, but you're not people!"

"Hey!"

"It's a compliment!"

Bdubs pouted. "Ok, what about if I wear it just for a minute? Just long enough to see what it'd look like?"

Etho considered for a second. "And then you'd give it back?"

"Pinky promise. I won't wear it outside this room."

Etho curled his fingers gently around the small scrap of fabric and tentatively held it out to Bdubs.

"Just cos I wanna see what you look like."

Bdubs giggled as he slipped it over his ears.

It really was an eerie sight, seeing Bdubs' mop of spiky brown hair sticking out of Etho's headband above Etho's mask, finished off with Etho's jacked sitting at least two sizes too big around Bdubs' shoulders. Like looking in a funhouse mirror.

"Mini me," Etho said with a smirk.

"Hey!" protested Bdubs. "I'm not short!"

Etho pulled Bdubs's hood up over his own head. "Hey Bdubs, what's it like seeing a normal sized version of yourself?"

"I'm normal sized, you're the giant!"

He grabbed Etho's arm and pulled him in front of the window pane. It truly was a weird sight reflected back at them.

"Look at us! Isn't this amazing?"

"We look ridiculous."

"Hello homie buddies! How's the rest of the BEST doing this fantabulous morning?"

The pair of them spun around to face the front doorway through which Skizz has entered, a Tango not far behind him. Etho quickly snapped his hand up across his face. He could already feel the red rising in his cheeks.

"Should I ask what you two got up to last night?" Tango asked, cocking an eyebrow at the two of them.

Etho felt himself dying inside.

"It was Bdubs' idea."

"Sure it was," said Tango with a smirk.

"Hey, whatever you two want to do in your spare time, it's all cool with me," said Skizz.

"Nothing happ– Bdubs, help!"

"Have you two never wondered what you'd look like in each others' clothes?"

"Uh, no."

Etho would have facepalmed if his hand wasn't already occupied covering, well, his face.

"Can you two give us a minute?" he said. "We'll see you in the courtyard."

"No problem!" said Skizz, already leading Tango out the door.

The door shut. Etho let out a breath.

"Gimme that," he said, snatching his mask off of Bdubs' face. "Of all the years I've known you, this was your worst idea."

"Oh please," said Bdubs. "It's been nearly 10 years. I've definitely had worse."

"Nope, this is definitely, 100% the worst."

"Ok, so are you gonna give me back my jacket and clock then?"

"No no, we had a deal. I stick to my deals."

"...The jacket's really soft, isn't it."

"...Maybe."

#res writes #clothes swap #etho #bdubs #lastlifesmp #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #skizzleman #tangotek #team best

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

Text

Smitten - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader

Filming sex scenes wasn’t the easiest task. There are weird nude undergarments or socks or tape or sometimes just a nude co-star…With Tom, though? There were nerves and feelings and a deep down hope that he couldn’t tell that you were incredibly turned on as he mimed fucking you twelve ways to Sunday.

“Cut! That’s a wrap on today. Great work guys!” the director called.

Tom collapsed onto your chest, laughing as the tension left his body. “These never get easier.”

“I don’t know” you teased, playing with his hair as everyone left the set so you two could leave the bed with some of your dignity. “It’s a lot easier with you.”

Tom held himself up on his elbows. “Don’t tell me your past romantic co-stars have been less than gentlemanly.”

“Not all of them.” You shrugged. Being a ‘larger than the Hollywood standard’ actress had put you in some…not very flattering roles in the start of your career. Sure, now you were the romantic lead with a conventionally attractive male actor, but lets just say you’ve dealt with a lot to get here.

“Well, I hope you know you deserved better.” Tom kissed the back of one of your hands, rolling off of you.

“Coming from you, I may actually believe it.” You laughed, gathering the sheet around you as you left the bed, grabbed your robe, and started walking towards your trailer.

The two of you filmed the movie…Where you’d usually fall asleep in one of your two trailers watching other movies…

The two of you attended interviews…Where Tom would almost always defer to you and even stuck up for you when a few interviewers were borderline sexist or would comment on your appearance…

The two of you even walked a few red carpets together…Tom’s hand always placed at your middle or on your hip or in one of your hands...

He invited you out to eat with him before or after any shindig the two of you went to…

He’d walk you to your hotel rooms with kisses left on your cheeks…

He’d even tried to convince you to spend the week before the premiere in London with him…

In your mind, Tom was just too nice. He was nice to everybody. It all seemed very friendly…Until…

You hadn’t been watching the interviews as they’d been posted. Some interviews you did together with Tom and others you’d been split up and put with other actors from the movie.

Your phone pinged…

*best friend* - HAVE YOU SEEN TOM ON FALLON?!?

Before you could reply, your phone started blowing up.

You scrolled through the texts until you saw Tom’s

Tom – Darling, I hope you know how much you mean to me. Regardless of what your answer is, I’d never want to lose your friendship. It’s not every day you get to work with one so incredibly kind and thoughtful and talented and beautiful and…every moment I’ve spent with you has been a privilege. Please put me out of my misery and let me know you’ll at least let me see you again.

“What the fuck?” you asked yourself, opening your laptop and googling “Tom Hiddleston and Jimmy Fallon”

You saw that the Fallon YouTube channel had just posted Tom’s segment of tonight’s episode…

“How are you doing, buddy?” Fallon asked, pulling Tom into a tight hug.

“I’m doing incredibly well at the moment, actually.” Tom answered, sharing that the movie you two had filmed together had done extremely well on its opening weekend just a few days earlier.

“I know! It was amazing. I’ve seen it twice!” Fallon replied, always enthusiastic.

“I’m so glad you liked it. Y/n is incredible, right?” Tom turned to the audience, loving that they cheered when he brought you up.

“Oh my god, you two are so good together. I kind of thought maybe you two were…you know…” Fallon waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tom threw his head back laughing, fidgeting with his tie and avoiding looking into the audience.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you two don’t have SOME sort of real chemistry. I saw the movie.” Fallon gave Tom a look like *Don’t lie*

“Well, perhaps we’re just incredible actors and you’re simply complimenting our craft.” Tom shrugged, trying to look anywhere but at Jimmy.

“Well, yes. The acting in the movie is amazing, but I don’t think that accounts for this.” Jimmy turned and pointed to the screen. It was a series of clips pulled from Tom’s interviews where all he did was gush about you.

“I missed being home, but it’s hard for anyone to stay upset when they’re around Y/n. She just lifts the mood in any room she’s in. You could say she makes anywhere feel a bit like home.” Tom had answered when a woman asked him if it was hard being on site away from home for 5 months.

When another interviewer asked Tom what his favorite line in the movie was, he answered, quoting one of your lines. “When she delivered it for the first time, it kind of took my breath away. I felt very unprofessional. I had to apologize and ask to start over. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to say next. She tends to have that effect on me.” Tom laughed, a slight blush on his cheeks.

The final clip was one of an interviewer simply asking Tom how his day had gone. “I feel all out of sorts, if I’m being honest. Y/n isn’t here today because she woke up not feeling the best and with Covid still being an issue, she didn’t want to risk getting anyone else sick.” Tom answered with a sad smile on his face. When the interviewer shared that they hoped you would be okay and feel better soon, Tom answered with “I’ll make sure to pass on your sentiments when I bring her food later on.”

“COME ON!” Fallon laughed, throwing his arms up.

“I know, I know. I’m not very good at hiding how I feel, I guess.” Tom admitted, leaning back against the couch and laying his arm across the top. The crowd went wild.

“So, you admit it! Are you two together?!” Fallon asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Unfortunately, not.” Tom answered, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed.

“Why?!” Jimmy asked. “You’re clearly smitten!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Tom rebutted, looking to the audience for support. “I’ve tried!”

“Aww, now I feel bad for bringing it up.” Fallon chuckled and looked at the audience as they collectively ‘aww’ed. “How could anyone turn down this?!” He gestured towards Tom as the audience cheered.

“Well, if I’m to be completely honest I guess I haven’t actually TOLD her how I feel.” Tom confessed.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Jimmy paused.

“Well, I thought she’d catch on. I assume she has.” Tom laughed, fidgeting in his seat. “I’m pretty sure everyone else that knows the two of us can tell I’ve fallen completely head over heels for her.”

“Tom, Tom, Tom.” Jimmy shook his head.

“What?” Tom asked, nervous about what the answer would be.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I think you may just be horrible at flirting.” Fallon said with a straight face, the audience busting up laughing after.

“Do you think?” Tom replied, eyes gone wide in exaggerated surprise.

“I mean, I think you’re just so nice.” Jimmy laughed, trying to stay serious…“that everyone thinks you’re flirting with them…Which means, when you’re trying to flirt it just blends in.”

“Well, how would you suggest I stand out then?” Tom asked, putting his elbow on his knee and leaning his chin on his fist like he was really paying attention.

“I mean…” Fallon slowly pointed towards the camera. “You gotta shoot your shot, right?”

The audience went wild at the suggestion. “Oh, dear.”

“I can scrap this and we can just talk about the movie.” Jimmy offered, making sure Tom knew that none of this had to go on the air.

“I mean, if it’s truly that obvious to everyone what have I got to lose, right?” Tom answered.

“That’s what we like to hear!” Jimmy cheered with the audience.

“Well…Y/n.” Tom paused, a soft smile on his face. “I don’t quite know where to start. I feel as though I may have been remiss by not just telling you how I feel. The consequence of such is that now I’m doing it in front of all of these people *gestures to the audience*…and I’m sure you’re laughing at how red I’ve gone and how flustered I am so I’m going to get to the point. Darling, you’re an incredible woman. I could list a million reasons why, but hopefully later you’ll give me the time to tell you them in person. What I really want to tell you now is that you make me happy. You inspire me. You make me want to be the best version of myself and you even make me believe I can achieve it. I’d be honored if you’d give me a chance.”

Fallon had tears in his eyes and most of the audience did, as well. “I…That was so beautiful. I think we need to go to a commercial break.” He was all choked up and stood to give Tom a hug.

You pulled up Tom’s text, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Are you still in New York?” you text him. The two of you were there for interviews. You were even staying in the same hotel.

“I am.” He text back, but the ‘typing’ bubble stayed. “Did you watch it?”

“I did.” You answered. “Come over?”

You saw the ‘typing’ bubble pop up and then disappear a few times. Instead of a text, you heard a knock at your hotel door.

“So?” Tom asked when you opened the door. He looked nervous, a look you didn’t often see from him. He had his glasses on and his hair was an adorable mess. He was even already dressed in his night clothes.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you stepped forward and placed your hands on each side of his face, pulling his lips gently to yours. He quickly reciprocated, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards into your hotel room.

“And to think, I could have been doing that for a whole year already.” You teased him, connecting your lips again.

“Don’t worry, my sweet.” Tom answered, pressing kisses across your cheek and down your neck. His lips paused at the shell of your ear and his voice dropped. “It just means we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

#Tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #curvy #loki

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dudeandduchess · 3 years

Note

Love your writing! Can we get a history teacher AU? Maybe with some NSFW 👀 fellow teacher y/n always had the hots for Rengoku-sensei but never had the courage to say anything until one day, on his birthday, she finds him alone grading papers and everything just comes out

Hope you’re doing well!

Hey, bby! I’m doing well. Hope you like this one. ❤️‍🔥

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: After School Hours (Smut, Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Warnings: Smut, Semi-Public Sex (Library), Clothed Sex, Birthday Sex, Food Play (Body Icing)

Read part 2 here.

***

(Y/n)’s hands were so shaky as she tried her best to get herself from the faculty room, down to the library on the second floor. To say that she was frazzled and nervous would have been an understatement, as she had chosen that day to finally confess her feelings to the enigmatic History teacher— Rengoku Kyōjurō.

She had always harbored feelings for the blond, ever since she had first started at the academy. And even though the other teachers always kept teasing them about being too close to each other— as well as the other women telling her that he liked her— she still held on to the possibility that they were wrong.

After all, it was better to expect the worst; so that she wouldn’t be that disappointed when she received the truth.

The closer that she got to the library, however, the harder that her heart began to pound in her chest. And the more that she began to think that she shouldn’t be so bold.

She had even thought to turn back immediately, only to be plagued by thoughts of her regrets haunting her once she got home. (Y/n) didn’t want all of the ‘what-ifs’ from this one choice to haunt her forever.

After all, the worst that he could do was to thank her and give her a friendly hug.

At that thought, she quickly shook her head— clearing the worst case scenario from her mind— before pushing her legs to walk faster to the empty library.

She only knew that it was empty after having seen Kyōjurō stay there after class on most days. He would grade papers until the school closed down, instead of taking his work home with him.

And after asking him once why he preferred the library, he told her that it was the perfect place to do work; all because the students who did have tiny crushes on him never thought to check for him all the way at the back of the place.

‘Oh gods, I may just be worse than those students,’ (Y/n) thought in a panic, almost dropping the cupcake in her hands. But she managed to right herself at the last second, taking a deep breath in through her nose and exhaling it from her mouth.

“Okay, calm down, (Y/n).” The young woman tried to soothe herself, even going as far as to close her eyes for a brief moment, before stepping inside the library as quietly as she could.

One foot in front of the other— she kept making her legs move, until she was at the end of the aisle that led to the tables at the back of the library.

And right there, in all his handsome glory, was Kyōjurō— pen being twirled between his fingers, and eyes focused solely on the paper in his left hand.

Gingerly, (Y/n) fished the lighter from her skirt’s pocket and lit the tiny candle that she had stuck in the middle of the cupcake; one she’d baked the night before, and decorated with so many intricate designs— all for him.

“Rengoku-sensei,” She called softly, her voice even cracking at his name. Yet it had the blond looking up at her— eyes widening a fraction of an inch, while his lips curled up at the corners.

Kyōjurō felt absolutely flustered.

Especially when (Y/n) walked forward with the cupcake, eyes solely on him to block out the nerves that were trying to consume her.

Thankfully for her, he met her halfway; standing right in front of her, and turning all of his attention towards the woman who made his heart race— in the best way.

“Happy birthday, I baked it just for you,” (Y/n) managed to breathe out softly, before holding it up a little higher for him.

And her heart almost leapt out of her chest when Kyōjurō reached out with his right hand and gently wrapped it around her wrist— holding her shaky hands steady, as he leaned in and blew the candle out.

“Thank you, (Y/n)-sensei. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me,” Kyōjurō stated with a grin, even as his eyes momentarily flickered down to his co-teacher’s plump lips.

He was naught to admit it, but he had racked up so many nights just fantasizing about those lips on him; on any part of his body.

At first it had started as a simple crush for him, but it had evolved into something else; something much deeper than simple attraction. However, what the other male teachers had told him was that she already had someone she liked, so he had held himself back from confessing his own feelings.

Which was a surprise that she even sought him out on his birthday, when he fully expected her to have gone home with everyone else— as he wanted to finish work before celebrating with his family.

“I wanted to…” (Y/n) answered quietly, before swallowing past the lump in her throat and coming out with it. “Because I like you, Rengoku-sensei. I like you so much that I can’t get you out of my mind- and I- just… I want you!”

Mortified couldn’t even begin to describe just how (Y/n) felt at that botched confession. She could even feel her shame washing over her in waves; making her face and ears red, especially when she looked up and saw nothing but surprise on Kyōjurō’s face.

Instead of pushing her away like she had expected, the blond calmly took the cupcake from her hands and set it down on the table. All before closing the space between them, and staring right at her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that he looked a little… excited.

Gone was his exuberant attitude, and in its place came something much more attractive; a million times sexier than his usual persona.

“That’s great, (Y/n)-s… chan. Because I like you too… and I want you just as bad.” Kyōjurō finally admitted, feeling his own pulse racing as he gently cupped her face in his hands and leaned in to press his lips to hers.

When (Y/n) didn’t try to pull away from him, Kyōjurō decided to be a little more liberal with his touches; pulling her flush against his chest, before awkwardly spinning both of them around, so that he could sit her down on the table.

Thankfully, they had missed the cupcake entirely. Because a lightbulb just went on in his head, as he gently wedged himself between her thighs and began to caress her soft skin.

With every pass of his hands up her thighs, he pushed the hem of her skirt up little by little— making no effort to hide what his intentions were.

“I’ve always liked you, (Y/n).” A gentle kiss to her lips, before dragging his lips down to her neck and sucking on it. “And I’m so happy that you have the same feelings.”

If it was any other woman, Kyōjurō never would have touched them. But it was (Y/n), and he had been holding himself back for two years; that alone was torture for him, so he couldn’t keep himself from indulging in her immediately.

Before either of them could comprehend it, (Y/n) was already on her back on the table, with Kyōjurō kissing down her exposed chest and his fingers circling around her clit.

All the while, (Y/n) was in such bliss that she couldn’t even muster up any coherent thoughts. All she could do was moan and mewl as Kyōjurō kissed her all over.

When he pulled away for a bit, however, she was brought back to reality; keen eyes solely on him, as he reached over and swiped a little bit of the cupcake’s icing on his index finger.

Initially, she thought that it was weird for him to stop for a taste of that, until she realized his plan when he dabbed the icing on both of her nipples.

It was a little bit warm, but it was made all the warmer when Kyōjurō wrapped his lips around her right nipple; licking and sucking on the hard bud, while his index finger circled and teased the other one.

“Rengoku-sensei!” The young woman moaned out, one hand delving into his hair and curling into the soft strands. But Kyōjurō didn’t relent; not until her back was arching and her legs were wrapped around his hips.

It was obvious that she was cumming, and it gave Kyōjurō an all-time high at feeling her come apart beneath him. Especially since he wasn’t even inside her yet.

When she was calm and spent beneath him, the blond pulled away from her right nipple— making quick work of licking her left nipple clean— before pecking her lips.

“Do you want more, (Y/n)?” He asked with a grin, feeling his cock throb in his pants at how beautiful she looked post-orgasm.

He expected her to refuse, but was pleasantly surprised when she shook her head. “Please give me more.”

“Good girl.” The praise had just slipped out and made his lips tingle, but he paid it no mind as he quickly undid his belt and pants to pull his cock out.

Then, as gently as he could, he pulled her ass to the end of the table before pushing her skirt up all the way; groaning aloud at the sight of her panties being so soaked with her cum.

What made it better for him, however, was the fact that she was wearing red lace. As if she had worn it just for him.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it though— cock twitching with need, as he fully pushed the crotch of her panties aside and rubbed the tip of his dick up and down her slit.

“Please, sensei, no more teasing,” (Y/n) whined quietly, which only spurred Kyōjurō to give in to her.

So, slowly, he dragged the head of his cock all the way to her entrance and pushed inside her tight cunt. He almost buckled at how heavenly she felt around him, but held firmly to her hips before bottoming out in her.

His pace was gentle at first, getting her used to how thick he was, before beginning to really pound her against the table. He pushed in hard and fast, milking his own pleasure and adding to it by watching her expressions.

Because, it was guaranteed, that his current reality was better than all of his fantasies combined.

And it was made all the better with how he watched (Y/n) lose control— especially when he lifted her legs up onto his shoulders and held on tight to her ankles.

He just hoped that marks wouldn’t show up later, since he still had plans for both of them; mainly taking her home to meet his family.

***

BONUS:

After everything was said and done, with Kyōjurō’s cum slowly trickling out from (Y/n)’s cunt, he pulled her up to his chest— hugging her tight and pressing butterfly kisses to her neck. “You should get dressed, (Y/n). We have to go home with me.”

“But… why?” The young woman was confused, but she was too boneless after getting thoroughly fucked that her question fell flat.

“So that my family can meet my girlfriend, of course.”

“What? We just- I’m- Rengoku-sensei!” That had pulled (Y/n) out of her stupor immediately. Then, she hissed at him, “I’m still full of your cum! I can’t meet your parents like this!”

“I can lick it clean for you.” Kyōjurō was joking, he really was… at least at first. But he thought that eating her out wouldn’t be so bad. So, they stayed just a little bit longer in the library; much to (Y/n)’s chagrin.

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou scenario #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny imagines #demon slayer

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risusnet · 3 years

Text

Something there that wasn’t there before.

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: [Y/N] is a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Bruce Wayne is holding a charity gala to help raise some funds for the asylum and [Y/N] along with some colleagues are invited. Her friend and crush Jonathan Crane was one of her co-workers that was invited too and they both enjoy the evening together.

Prompt: “Be still my heart.” Word Count: 2,626

You worked as a psychiatrist in Arkham Asylum and you, along with some of your other co-workers, had been invited to a charity gala hosted by Bruce Wayne which intended to help raise money for the Asylum. You were wearing a beautiful dress that you had picked out a few days earlier and had just parked up in your car outside the gala hall, you sighed feeling nervous to go in. There were going to be so many people there, one of which was Dr. Jonathan Crane, your friend and co-worker who you had been low-key crushing on for the past few years, your heart jumped into your mouth just thinking about him being there.

“I bet he’s wearing something really nice- wait no- he’s just your friend, shut up!” you thought aloud.

You pulled yourself together and got out of your car, shyly walking to the door and trying to distract yourself from the photographers and reporters at the entrance who were also here about the gala.

“Name, please.” said a frightening-looking bouncer,

“Dr. [Y/N] [L/N].” You told him,

“Ah, I see your name, you may enter.”

“Thanks..” you quickly entered the hall.

It was a beautiful venue, priceless golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the corridor with marble lining the floor that led to a foyer. For a corridor it was massive, it felt intimidating. You cautiously wandered onward, the corridor was fairly empty with only a few people littered here and there, some people on the phone, some couples making out and drunk people stumbling around aimlessly. You reached the entrance of the hall and looked around, there were so many rich and famous people here, it was easy to feel like you didn’t belong here. You saw some of your co-workers spanning the hall, there were some of them together in groups, sticking together but then you saw someone in the crowd that was not with the rest of your colleagues. It was Jonathan. It felt like time stopped when you saw him, he was wearing a really lovely suit and you felt your pulse quicken, you took a step backwards and bashfully looked at the ground,

“Be still my heart.” You muttered to yourself.

You braced yourself and walked on into the foyer, you decided to get something to drink to set your head straight. After sipping your drink, you looked up only to lock eyes with none other than Jonathan on the other side of the room. He smiled at you and smiled back, if you had still had the water in your mouth you probably would have spat it out in surprise. Luckily, you were able to hide your surprise pretty well.

The moment was cut short when a man who seemingly worked for Bruce Wayne came onto the stage and told everyone that the ballroom was now open and people began to make their way in the direction of the ballroom. You put your drink down and followed the crowd, you could see Jonathan up ahead in the corner of your eye and you tried to ignore him for your own good, however, you were doing a terrible job at that.

Once you entered the ballroom, you were mesmerised by how enchanting it truly was in here. You took in every last corner of it and smiled in awe. Your eyes travelled back down again and you suddenly felt a little shy again, remembering Jonathan was here. You really had to get a hold of yourself and forget your feelings whilst you were here, you had to act professional!

A soft song was being played by the orchestra they had hired and many people had already coupled off and started dancing and talking in the ballroom, you found a place off to the side to stand and took in the environment. Jonathan walked over to you and stood next to you,

“[L/N], Hello.” He nodded in your direction,

“Crane, good to see you.” You responded.

“It’s rather, chaotic, in here, isn’t it?” He smiled,

“Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming,” you laughed a little.

You looked in his direction slightly, he was still just as handsome as before, shit. You ended up catching Jonathan's gaze on accident, to which caused him to speak,

“Would you like to dance for a little?” He said, his tone slightly softer than previously. You paused, you wanted to, but felt shy, how typical.

“Are you sure?” you crossed your arms and looked at him,

“It might be fun, plus, we may as well get in a few of the photos from the event.” He joked,

“Alright, sure, let’s go.” You both walked into the main area of the room where people were dancing. Your mind felt like it was literally screaming at you, you weren’t sure if it was in an ‘Oh my god, this is so exciting’ way or a ‘No no no no no, abort abort, abort mission’ way. Anyway, you still seemed pretty composed and he took your hand, either way. You started to lazily dance along with everyone else, you felt completely in your element and yet completely out of it at the same time, a very strange feeling, maybe it was just the nervousness.

Funnily, photographs were taken of you both, you spied it just out of the corner of your eye and you’re pretty sure he noticed too. Dancing with Jonathan and now you have proof of it? There’s some bragging rights!

“Wait- what if people get the wrong idea? I’m gonna be hassled by questions and rumours going back into work.” You thought in your head.

“What if those ideas are good ideas?” a voice replied. Voices aren’t meant to reply to you in our head so that means that…

“Huh- Did I say that out loud-” you felt a little embarrassed, then you remembered what he responded with, “..Hey, wait a minute-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut you off with a grin. Is he going to ignore what he said? Great, now you are going to worry about it, or more specifically, you are not going to stop thinking about this. Maybe, ever.

“If you say so.” Your eyes held a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity, whilst he looked slightly smug. There was a vague air of flirtatiousness between the two of you as you continued dancing, you both spoke to each other in a manner that wasn’t flirting, but borderline was. However, it was usually like this when you spoke, you just had that kind of dynamic. You can’t blame yourself for catching feelings in an atmosphere like that, right?

You felt a lot more comfortable than earlier, you had probably just gotten used to his presence. He was always good company and the rest of the bustling gala just seemed to phase out. There had come a point in which you and Jonathan had stopped speaking altogether and just had your eyes fixed on each other. You guys were also having a… moment? You were edging closer and closer to one another absentmindedly and a layer of tension filled the air.

“Guests! Thank you for coming to this lovely gala we have been hosting today!” Oh yeah, that’s where you were. You and Jonathan stopped dancing and turned to face the voice and saw Bruce Wayne now on the stage introducing the event. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You all probably already know why this gala is being thrown today, we are here to support our very own Arkham Asylum and its employees who work tirelessly to try to reform the criminals it holds. The dining hall is now ready for everyone so if you follow the butlers they will direct you to your seating! Thank you.” Bruce gave a winning smile and moved away from the microphone and off of the stage.

You looked to Jonathan who nodded in the direction of the hall and you both started to make your way over.

The room was beautiful, with hundreds of tables brimming the hall. You stuck to Jonathan like glue, because despite all of the friendly-seeming faces, it was still pretty nerve-racking and he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to enjoy being your protector.

You were eventually seated, with Jonathan being in the seat next to you on your right. You were glad for that, at least. Apart from him, you were surrounded by a load of unfamiliar faces that lined your table, not that that was surprising, you couldn’t recognise 90% of the people attending this.

There was a lot of, ‘How do you do’s and ‘What is your name’ and ‘Where do you work’ as everyone around you settled in. They asked you and Jonathan many questions about your jobs upon learning that you both worked at the asylum.

“So, Dr. Crane, what’s it like working with a bunch of criminals? Isn’t it dangerous?” one woman who appeared to be quite rich asked. She wore an expensive dress and a face full of extravagant makeup.

“Ah, well, we don’t just have them running rampant with a knife or such whilst we are in appointments with them.” His comment earned some laughter from the table. He was good at this, you smiled to yourself knowing you were in good hands and that you could relax a little because Jonathan knew what he was doing.

A different man, one who sat on your left side began to strike up a conversation with you.

“Dr. [L/N], a pleasure to finally talk to you. I have been meaning to ever since I saw you arrive!” This comment earned a suspicious side-eye from Jonathan but he quickly looked away and continued the conversation he was in.

“Oh, well it’s an honour to meet you, sir.” you politely responded and extended your arm to shake his hand, which he took, shook and lingered for a bit too long before releasing it.

“You must be very intelligent to be a psychiatrist. Where did you study?” He leaned over remotely closer, awaiting your reply.

“Gotham University for the most part! I enjoyed my time there, actually.” You tried to be oblivious to how he was acting, but it was super off-putting.

“Ah, a good one. I have known friends who have attended there!” His breath stinks of booze. He was closer still and you were starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you, I’m sorry, but could you excuse me. I think I need to use the restroom.” He nodded his head and you stood up. Jonathan had an idea of what was going on and waited two minutes before leaving too.

You walked as fast as you could to get yourself some air. You were back in the foyer and nearly at the bathroom when a hand grabbed your wrist.

“[Y/N]!” You turned around and your eyes were met with Jonathan. “Are you alright?”

“I’m... I’m sorry. Everything was just really… hectic. I needed some air…” You weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Was it that man? Did he make you feel uneasy, or something?” His eyes looked full of care and concern. He really knew you well.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for dragging you out here, you can go, you don’t have to worry.” You tried to brush it off but he could tell how it got to you. He moved his hand, which was still holding your wrist, to hold your hand.

“I’m not just going to leave you here when you’re like this. I’m someone who cares for you.” He sounded truly earnest, it made your heartbeat speed up when he said that. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me. If it will make you feel better, we can switch seats. If he tries anything, even if he looks at you in a strange way, I’ll see to it myself.”

“Jonathan… Thanks.” You smiled to which he returned it.

“Shall we?” His facial expression shifted to a smirk.

“We shall.”

You both made your way back to the table, sitting in each other’s seats. You realised you were still holding hands and had to unfortunately let go to sit down. You settled back down and the man from earlier began to speak.

“I think you two are sitting in the wrong seats.” He was so clearly annoyed but tried not to show his frustration by placing an obvious artificial smile on his lips.

“Hm, it seems that we are,” Jonathan said, turning to you. “Ah well, no point in getting up again.” He shrugged and was pulled into another conversation with someone on the table.

At some point, you had ended up placing your head on his shoulder to lean against which he let you do. It was comfy and by the time you realised you had done so, it had been about 5 minutes and he was fine with it so you decided to bask in the moment.

Bruce Wayne, that mysterious rich guy, was once again back on the stage.

“Hello everyone,” he had a drink and a tiny spoon in his hand which he clinked to the glass to command everyone’s attention. “Now, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear, is the best part, where I give you all a load of free food! Feel free to indulge yourselves as the butlers bring the food and beverages around to the tables.” Then he confidently strode off the stage and back to his seat. His table was less full of businessmen in suits and more full of beautiful women in expensive dresses.

Everyone turned back to their conversations as trays and plates came out of the ginormous kitchen hiding somewhere in the back. There were all sorts of food that you had yet to try in your life but you were eager to. You had to sit up though so that meant lifting your head off of Jonathan’s shoulder.

You, along with the rest of the guests began to eat the food served. Whilst also maintaining some light conversation. By this time, you had quite the collection of business cards handed to you by various people at this table.

Bruce stood up to toast to the event, “Here is a toast, to this pleasant gala and to those we are holding it for. A toast to all of the incredible employees of Arkham Asylum who are and aren’t here today!” He raised his glass which everyone else followed suit with.

Half an hour later and everyone was finishing up their meals and you too felt very full and idly set your head back onto Jonathan’s shoulder. You looked up at him from there and he looked back, laughing a little before looking away again.

The gala was starting to wrap up and people were starting to leave. Bruce went onto the stage to say his official goodbye causing a massive flock of people to also call it a night for them there.

“We should probably give it a minute before leaving, save getting trampled.” Jonathan looked to you, who was still leisurely resting on his shoulder.

“You’re right.” You said watching people leave, “This was surprisingly fun.”

“I agree, I didn’t expect to have this nice of a time. Maybe it’s just thanks to you though.” Jonathan now rested his head atop yours.

“I’m glad you were here too.” You sighed happily.

“We should see each other outside of work more.” He said, nonchalantly.

“That would be nice.”

“Are you free next Saturday?” Oh wow, he’s good, real smooth.

“Yeah, in fact, I am.”

“Looks like we’ll be doing this again soon, then.” He had that smug grin again. Then sat up, took your hand and you both walked out together.

259 notes · View notes

bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff

426 notes · View notes

nationalharryleague · 3 years

Text

The Busy Bean

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Coworkers to lovers AU

Word count: 5.6K

A/N: Hi all! This is my entry for Sadie’s (@meetmeinfleetwood) To Lovers Fic Challenge!! As always, many thanks to Mia (@hardcandy-harry) and Lu (@meetmymouth even tho shes taking a little break lol) for being wonderful betas!! I really love it and I hope you enjoy it too! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think (or anything else lol) in my ask!

***

The first day at a new job is a universally terrifying experience.

You can’t sleep the night before, head full of nightmare scenarios of evil customers and mean bosses, and a swirl of anxiety continues to bubble in the pit of your stomach, refusing to slow or calm. There's a part of you that prays they will call and tell you that they don’t need your help anymore, despite how bad you need the money. But the call never comes, and the next day you stand in front of the building, desperately trying to take deep breaths and slow your heart rate, bracing yourself for whatever is to come whenever you enter.

This is where Y/N was today, in a mess of shaky palms with slight blue bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep that wouldn’t disappear no matter how hard her concealer tried. She stood in front of the large plate glass window of the cafe, sneaking glimpses and trying to prepare herself for whatever awaited before she actually reached to take the door handle. With a glance at her watch that signaled it was time for her to arrive, she took one last deep breath and entered the small but cozy space.

The cafe itself wasn’t open yet, devoid of customers with only a few lights behind the counter on, but it was full of the delightful and familiar smell of coffee that swirled around her head. The wall to her left was an exposed brick that had been painted white with a long table running along it with stools tucked underneath and a long cafe counter ran the length of the shop to her right. The far back wall of the shop was a giant book shelf with books stacked from the bottom of the top, arranged in a rainbow pattern along each shelf. The store was unbearably charming.

“Hello?” she felt herself call out softly into the empty space. Her voice came out slightly timid, her anxious mind not giving her lips full permission to speak.

She listened to a shuffling and a distant voice muttering “shit,” that seemed to be coming from a door that sat behind the counter where the few lights had been turned on. Before long, a man with curly hair popped his head out from the back hallway, giving her a wide dimpled smile. “Just give me a minute!” he said, holding up his pointer finger for a second, before disappearing back into the hall. After a few more moments of shuffling and muffled cursing, he reappeared. His face held the same dimpled grin as before.

“You must be Y/N,” he said, reaching out a hand for her to shake across the counter. “Boss man said you would be starting today.”

“That’s me,” she spoke gently, still apprehensive in the new surroundings. She placed her hand in his and he shook it with a friendliness she hadn’t expected from her first couple minutes in a new work space. His hand was warm and his nails were painted a bright and sunshiny yellow.

“I’m Harry. It’s great to meet you!” His voice was deep, but light and enthusiastic, far too excited for the early morning calm that she had been reveling in on her walk to the shop.

She decided quickly that he looked like a ‘Harry’ and that his name matched his cheerful disposition. His green eyes shined, even in the relatively dim early morning light that illuminated the room through the front window, and they held a disarming and calming quality that slowed her heart rate for the first time since she had woken up.

“You too.” She forced a smile onto her lips, hoping to conceal the first day jitters that ran through her system.

“Don’t worry about your first day,” he read her like a book. “Everyone here is very nice and you have the best trainer in the world.”

“I’m assuming that’s you?” she questioned, letting out a light chuckle.

“Well, of course it is.”

She was slightly taken aback by the peculiar, yet undeniably charming, man that stood across the counter from her. He was dressed in a loose fitting black sweater that looked cozy and soft, paired with wide-legged tan slacks, all covered with a dark green apron that had the cafe’s logo on the chest. The Busy Bean was embroidered in a light yellow sitting above a mug with a bumble bee on it; it was charming and cute, fitting in well with the plethora of plants and flowers that filled the cafe.

He must have noticed her staring at the logo. “You like the name?” he asked her, pointing at the logo that sat on his chest. She nodded softly, a smile finding its way on to her lips. “We’re going to be very busy beans in about,” he paused to check his watch, “thirty minutes when we open. So put this on,” he slid her very own apron across the counter, “and let's get ready.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said they were going to be busy.

While the shop had intentionally started her on a Saturday morning when it was usually a bit slower, the morning rush came in and threw her for a tizzy. She took orders and ran them to tables for what seemed like hours, kept far away from the coffee bar as she was unsure of how to make all of the drinks yet. But thankfully, she wasn’t alone.

Soon after opening, another woman arrived, wearing the same dark green apron that matched Y/N and Harry’s. She had long dark hair that fell to the small of her back and in gentle waves and glowing mocha skin with golden eyes. She introduced herself as Isla, with a warm and friendly smile, and stationed herself behind the counter, making drink after drink that smelled intoxicatingly delicious. Y/N thanked god, or whatever was out there, that she and Harry had someone else to help them out while customers flowed in and out of the shop.

Harry hung by her side for the entirety of the morning rush, carefully watching her every move, and gently redirecting her when she seemed to make a mistake. He was kind and she could tell that he genuinely wanted her to learn, not just to do a job well for efficiency’s sake. There was never a trace of frustration on his features, just patience and good will.

Around noon, the flood of patrons looking for their morning coffee began to slow, finally giving Y/N an opportunity to rest. She flopped herself down on a stool that sat behind the counter and released a long sigh, stretching her neck and slumping her shoulders. She was met by sympathetic giggles coming from her two new co-workers.

“Honey,” Isla began with a hint of pity in her voice, “that was nothing.”

“What did I get myself into?” Y/N chuckled through a groan, putting her face in her hands out of exhaustion.

“I promise it gets easier,” Harry chimed in, always one to calm someone’s anxieties. “You just need to get into the swing of things.”

“What I need to do is learn how to make all the fancy coffees that people keep asking me for,” she said, peeking through her fingers at her still amused coworkers.

A look was passed between the two of them, Isla eventually moving out of the way and motioning for Harry to take over the coffee bar. “Come on Baby Barista, lets teach you some of the basics.”

His nickname for her made her release a loud laugh, immediately stifling it to a few giggles when she realized she had caused a few patrons to look up and over at her. Her cheeks warmed instantly, embarrassed for disturbing them, and she added another item to the list of things she was learning never to do again with customers in the store.

He guided her over to the counter full of machinery including pots of coffee, hot water, an espresso machine, and more equipment she couldn’t even identify. He spoke to her gently and gave her all his attention, carefully talking her through how to make a few of the most ordered drinks. Other than almost burning herself a couple times, she was starting to get the hang of it. She had a very hard time wiping the smile off of her face after Harry taste tested each one and gave his seal of approval.

“Not bad, Baby Barista,” he complimented with a dimpled smile and a slight nod after she handed him what she believed was a caramel latte. She reveled in his praise, wanting to do her job well, but also loving his approval and the nickname he had now assigned to her.

They did this coffee lesson for a few more hours, as the shop slowed to almost a complete stop as they got closer to closing time. Isla had headed home and there were only a few stragglers left that had spent their days working or reading in the cafe as the sun began to set around 5pm, with closing at 6. Harry diligently continued to teach her as much as he could in one day as they began to close up the shop and get ready for the next day. He was easy to talk to and their conversation seemed to flow effortlessly as they swept and did dishes.

“So, what brought you to London?” he asked after a short lul, looking at her with an inquisitive look, the ever present dimple on his cheek and grin on his lips disarming her easily.

“Oh, you know,” she stumbled over her words slightly, “I just needed a fresh start.”

“No mysterious or heartbreaking backstory I need to know about?” he quipped, a questioning eyebrow perched on his forehead. She let out another loud laugh, deciding not to quiet herself this time as there was only one customer left in the store.

“No,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she swept. “I got dumped in a small town and needed to get away from them. It was like they were around every corner.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, but he just had a way of pulling the truth from her. “I always dreamed of living here and the breakup was the kick in the ass I needed to actually do it.”

“I’m glad you made it here, but I’m sorry about the breakup.”

“Don’t be,” she smiled. “Definitely for the best.”

“Okay, then I won’t be.” His eyes had a mischievous glint behind them, but she couldn’t exactly place what he was getting at.

They worked together in a comfortable silence after that, making sure everything was ready for the morning to come and clean from the day that was leaving. Y/N covered a yawn as Harry told her that she was done for the day.

As she clocked out and gathered her things, she heard Harry’s voice as she moved towards the exit. “Do you live close by? I can give you a ride if you need. Don’t want you having to walk too far in the dark.” His offer was sweet and made her smile.

“I’m pretty close and I like the walk.” She grabbed onto the handle of the front door but couldn’t make herself leave just yet. “Thank you for being so patient with me today, Harry,” she said looking back towards him and connecting their eyes. She tried to convey her emotions to him on her face, something she wasn’t always very good at.

“No problem. We’re happy to have you here, Baby Barista.”

With a final nod and a light flush to her cheeks, she set off down the street towards her new flat. It wasn’t a long walk, just long enough to get a little chill in her bones from the cold winter air and to turn her nose into a small icicle.

She reflected on her first day as she walked. She liked Isla, and really liked Harry. And while she was very busy, it was good busy, not the type of busy that depletes your energy and makes you want to fall over at the end of the day. It was a kind of busy that kept her on her toes, ready to learn, and develop a skill.

Her thoughts were broken through when she noticed the old beat up red car that seemed to be following her down the road. It drove slowly, as if it didn’t want it to see her, and took extra long at intersections like it was hoping to stay behind her. She took a turn she didn’t need to at the next block, and another after that, and when the car continued to follow, her heart began to race.

She thought about running, or going up to a pedestrian and asking for help; she even considered calling her mum just to stay on the phone with her until she got home. It wasn’t until she recognized the green eyes and dimples behind the wheel that her heart began to slow. She turned around fully then, making eye contact with the man who had been following her, and crossing her arms in front of her and shooting a questioning eyebrow up at him.

He wore a look of shame as his car slowed to a stop in the street next to her.

“Excuse me sir,” she said sarcastically, bending over to look in the window and get a better look at his embarrassed rosey cheeks. “Why were you following me?”

“I wasn’t being a creep, I promise,” he quickly defended. “This neighborhood gets a little dangerous at night and I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He looked panicked and frazzled, clearly not planning on being caught. It was the first time she had seen him without a smile on his face all day.

“Harry, you were the thing that was making me feel unsafe,” she said, playfully scolding him through giggles. She watched as his face fell in a flood of relief that she wasn’t angry with him. “If you told me that you were going to follow me home anyway, I would have taken the ride.”

“I’m sorry.” He hung his head and ran a stressed hand through his curls.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she smiled softly. “I appreciate you caring enough to make sure I got home.” She rested a hand on the passenger side door handle. “And now you’re going to drive me the rest of the way home to make up for making me get off my normal route,” she laughed as she pulled on the handle and settled herself into the passenger seat.

The car was old, but clean and it smelled like the cologne he wore that she had picked up on a few times throughout the day. He was quiet, hanging his head like a child who had been caught with his hands in the cookie jar, as she directed him towards her flat. “I’m sorry, again,” was all he said when he pulled up in front of the building.

“Don’t be,” she smirked, using the same words she had earlier in the day when discussing her breakup. She exited the car, giving him a wave, and a call of “I’ll see you tomorrow,” before entering the building and shutting the door behind her.

***

Over the next few weeks, Harry and Y/N became fast friends.

After about a week of begging, she finally broke down and allowed him to pick her up and drive her home from work every day. Their morning rides consisted of the perpetually peppy and excitable morning person in the driver's seat blabbering on about something he saw on the news while he was getting ready or going on about a new book he was reading, while she would settle her still sleepy head on the window and rest her eyes for just a few more minutes before their day was forced to begin. At the end of the day, Harry was the quiet one, letting her recount the day (usually complaining about unruly customers or people that would sit and steal their wifi all day without ordering anything), while he drove her at a painfully slow pace to her flat. He always waited until she got inside the building, even asking her to text him when she got inside her tiny flat.

“I just want to make sure you got inside safe,” he would argue when she teased him about it.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she would rebut.

“Then I’m not coming to help you anymore when you can’t figure out the milk steamer, Baby Barista.”

“Don’t threaten me with that stupid milk steamer. It has so many buttons you need to work for NASA to understand it,” she would groan, only to be met with a teasing glare from the curly man next to her. “Fine, I take it back,” she would always concede.

His protectiveness was not unwelcome to her. If she was being honest with herself, Harry was the only real friend she had made since she made the move to London and she was quickly becoming heart crushingly lonely. She took any care that anyone in the new and scary city was willing to give her with open arms.

He was her only friend. They got on so well, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the extra few minutes she spent with him every morning and evening in the car. Maybe even a little too much.

At work, there was usually a chorus of laughter and giggles coming from their direction as Harry had taken her under his wing while she learned the ropes. There were days they would stay late after they had been off the clock making drinks over and over again; him patiently teaching, and her desperately trying to learn. There were definitely a few failures along the way, but they were always met with a teasing joke and then careful step-by-step directions on how she could fix it.

Technically Harry was her boss, store manager to be specific, but they worked alongside each other seamlessly, him never barking orders at her or using a harsh or authoritative tone.

Until today.

Y/N had been talking to one of their regulars, Robby, after she delivered an Americano to his table in the corner while it was particularly slow. Robby came in often, always shooting Y/N a bright smile and peppering compliments into their quick conversations. He was gorgeous, she couldn’t deny that; he had deep brown skin and an athletic build that she was sure was muscular under the thick sweater he was wearing to protect him from the cold. But he wasn’t her type, a little too arrogant and self-obsessed for her liking, always figuring out a way to turn their quick conversations back to himself. While it was fun to flirt with him, she knew it would never go any further than that.

“When do you get off?” Robby had asked suddenly, derailing their conversation away from the drink she had just delivered him. “I would love to take you out and see you in something other than that god awful apron.”

“Hey! I quite like my apron,” she playfully feigned offense, reaching to lightly swat him on the arm. “And while I appreciate your offer, I just got out of something pretty long term and I’m really not looking for anything right now. I’m sorry, Robby.” She forced a friendly pout onto her face, pretending like she was actually sorry for denying him.

Before he could respond, she heard an annoyed voice call her name from behind the counter. Whipping her head around to see who it was, she found Harry wearing an annoyed and frustrated face she had never seen him make before, especially not directed towards her. “We need some help back here. You have a job to do, remember?” he scolded, eyebrows furrowed and jaw steeled.

Her cheeks flushed white hot, embarrassed to be reprimanded like that in front of the whole shop. She hung her head in shame as she quickly walked back behind the counter. She was beyond embarrassed, suddenly uncomfortable in a place she had finally begun to come into her own in. She was learning and doing a good job, at least that was what she had been told, by both Isla and Harry; but the uneasy feeling in her stomach kept her from feeling comfortable for the rest of the day.

She carefully and quietly navigated behind the counter for the rest of her shift, sheepishly doing her best to stay out of her coworkers’ way and just do her job.

For the first time, she was slapped in the face with the reality that Harry wasn’t just her friend; he was her boss. He had an authority over her, and could probably get her in trouble with the owner, or even fired if he really wanted to. Navigating a business-like relationship was awkward and abnormal for them both, but Y/N decided she needed to learn how to quickly.

There was another reason his silent treatment seemed to hurt, one that Y/N had been trying her best to ignore. An undeniable crush had begun to build in her for the bright and bubbly man, despite however hard she had tried to fight it.

Harry made her feel safe, always keeping an eye out for her and trying to make sure she was alright. He made her laugh more than anyone she had ever known and their chemistry together felt electric. But what warmed her heart, and what now hurt the most, was that it felt like he cared about her just as much as she cared for him.

But now, it all felt like a fairytale she had built up in her head.

Their usual banter and giggles fell quiet for the rest of their day, reducing to curt directions from Harry and understanding hums from Y/N, following his orders without question or comment. Even Isla was quiet, not daring to breach the tension the pair had created between themselves.

The car ride home was quiet and strained that day.

But she still texted him when she was safe inside her flat.

***

While she had prayed that the next day would be like any other, their morning ride to work was filled with much of the same silence.

Harry fiddled with the heat and the radio in an effort to avoid her eyes or having to make conversation, eventually settling on a station that was playing old classic rock she didn’t recognize. He drove like she wasn’t even in the car, staring silently ahead at the road. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat fiddling with her fingers, not daring to get comfortable in a space that was all his.

At work, they both held tight to the tension, only muttering at each other when absolutely necessary. She kept her head down and just did what she was told to do.

She was at the counter when a woman approached the coffee bar, seeming to bark her order for an extra hot cappuccino with extra foam at Y/N. Her face was twisted into an angry pout, like she had just smelled something bad, and spat her words out her words. Y/N just nodded and breathed a “yes, maam,” unable to fight with any nasty customers today while her head was so occupied with Harry. She was off her game.

The woman hovered at the counter, watching intensely and tapping her foot impatiently as Y/N fought with the dreaded milk steamer attachment to one of their large industrial machines. She would have sworn that she pressed the extra hot setting.

Passing the full mug to the woman at the register, Y/N watched as she took a long sip of the drink before paying, something that wasn’t really allowed, but Y/N just didn’t have the fight in her today to reprimand her.

“That will be £2,” Y/N spoke softly with as much sweetness as she could muster, afraid of what could come out of the woman’s mouth. She watched as her face turned even more sour than before after she finished the long drag from the cup.

“I’m not paying for this,” she declared, nose stuck high in the air.

“I’m sorry?” Y/N asked with confusion clear in her voice. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“It’s not extra hot and there is no extra foam.”

“Okay, I’m very sorry about that,” she said apologetically, even though she knew for a fact the drink had both of those things, and released an exhausted sigh. “I will make you another.”

The woman’s eyes flicked down the counter in Harry’s direction, rudely snapping her fingers at him to catch his attention. He was hunched over the back counter, somehow worsening his already terrible posture, trying to eat a sandwich as fast as he could before his break was over. “Are you her boss?” she shouted at him, even though he could have heard her without raising her voice at him.

Y/N’s eyes were already filled with anxiety when Harry connected his with her’s, seeming to wordlessly ask what was going on and Isla watched on in terror. She felt her body try to shrink away from the woman before her and Harry as he came closer.

“I’m the store manager. Is there something going on that I could help with?” His eyes kept flashing back and forth between Y/N and the woman, trying to decipher the situation without words.

“I want you to remake my drink.”

“I’m actually on a break-”

“No,” she cut him off mid-sentence. “If she makes my drink again, she is just going to fuck it up all over again. She’s obviously incompetent.”

Y/N eyes flew open at her words, a mix of shock and hurt running through her. With her heart beginning to race, never one for confrontation, she wanted to melt into the floor and disappear all together.

Harry’s face hardened at the woman as she hurled insults towards Y/N. Stepping in front of her, as if putting his body between her and the woman could protect her from her harsh words, he took a deep breath before he began to speak again. “First of all, you will not speak to anyone who works here like that,” he defended her. “Second, I’m sure she’s completely capable of making your drink again if you give her a moment.”

“I don’t want her to make it and I have places to be,” she continued to fight. “I don’t have time for some pathetic newbie to give it another try.”

Her comments hit Y/N hard in her existing feelings of inadequacy and before she knew it, her vision was beginning to blur. She felt like this woman was repeatedly kicking her while she was already down.

“You have to leave.”

Harry’s voice was angry. It wasn’t the frustration or annoyance she had heard the day before, and it was a far departure from the kind and patient tone she had grown to love since she began working at the shop. It was full of anger, something she had never heard from him and an emotion she hadn’t even been sure he could feel before this point.

“I’m not leaving until I get another drink that’s correct and free.”

“I will call the cops if you don’t leave right now.”

Y/N couldn’t stand to watch this unfold before her any longer. An anxious weight had settled on her chest and she had felt the tears begin to roll. She was gone from the counter, running towards the soundproof walk-in fridge in the back hall. She planned on shutting herself inside and sobbing until she froze.

She stood in the freezing chill, holding her arms tight to her frame, desperate to keep herself warm and shield herself from the wrath that was playing out in the cafe. The cold seemed to ground her and the distance she had put between herself and the woman eased her stress, but the tears continued to flow as her eyes ran over the stock of the fridge in an attempt to distract herself.

A knock came from outside the heavy metal door that startled her, a soft and patient voice that she knew so well called through. “Y/N, are you okay? Can I come in?”

After doing her best to wipe the tears off her raw and cold cheeks, she choked out a small “yes.”

The door carefully opened and she was met with a soft and empathetic gaze from the only person she wanted to comfort her. He breathed a soft “come here,” before he opened his arms wide. She bolted into them, letting his giant frame envelop her whole in the warmth that always radiated from him. Y/N let herself weep softly into his chest as the dizzying scent of his cologne took over her senses.

He held her close to him for a few moments, letting her get all her emotions out, before releasing her body and taking her face into his somehow still warm hands, using his thumbs to swipe away a few more tears that had managed to escape.

“I don’t think that I even messed her drink up,”she broke the silence, feeling pathetic as he held her in his hands.

“I know you didn’t. She won’t be coming back.”

“Thank you for defending me,” she said, hiccuping as she stared into his comforting eyes. “I feel so stupid. I’m sorry.” She went to pull away, but he continued to hold her close.

“No, this is all my fault,” he shook his head slightly, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “If I hadn’t been such a dick yesterday then none of this would have happened. I’m so sorry.” His eyes held honesty, determined to be granted absolution by the girl before him.

“I don’t like it when we don’t get along,” she squeaked. “I really don’t like it when you yell at me and make me feel like I’m not doing my job well.”

He sighed hard, his face looking like his brain was going a mile a minute. “I have to be honest with you,” he confessed. “I wasn’t acting like an asshole yesterday because you weren't doing your job; you were just doing fine. I was upset you were flirting with that guy.”

She felt her lips fall into a small ‘oh.’ While she hadn’t meant anything by what she thought was harmless flirting, Harry hadn’t known that. The frustration and annoyance she had heard was in actuality all jealousy.

“You were jealous?” she asked softly, bringing a hand up to hold over one of his own that were still holding her face.

“Well, yeah,” he said with an awkward shrug. “I just thought that there might be something between us.”

He looked so adorable like this, slightly uncomfortable and shy. She looked at him intensely as an excited bubble began to form in her stomach at the idea that this massive crush had been mutual the whole time.

“There is.”

She couldn’t hold back her smile any longer, a grin breaking out onto her face as she nodded at him. The cold of the fridge was no longer nipping at her skin, her whole body radiating a flattered and excited blush of heat. The screaming she had just endured felt long behind her although it had only been a few minutes.

He mirrored her giddy expression. She watched as all the tension in his face began to melt away in relief and it reminded her of the look on his face when she teased him after he followed her home that first day.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed. “I was so worried that you were going to friendzone me forever.”

“I thought you were going to employee-zone me,” she chuckled.

“Are you going to kiss me or keep staring?”

A wide cheeky smile stretched across his lips, before she reached up and connected hers to his. The kiss was caring and sweet, but it felt like it sealed something she had been feeling since the first day they had met.

Their lips moved smoothly against each other, interrupted occasionally by a smile one of them couldn’t contain or a giggle that slipped from one of their mouths. She wasn’t nervous or overwhelmed by his proximity. She was so comfortable in his embrace. He was her best friend, after all.

They broke apart after a few moments, giant grins plastered on their faces that neither of them could manage to wipe away. “I liked that a lot,” Harry beamed, a boyish flush to his cheeks.

“Me too,” she mirrored him.

They spent a few more minutes in the fridge, swirling in a daze of infatuation and affection. “Do you think anyone heard us?” he asked softly, looking over towards the large metal door that had been left open a crack, before it flung open and they were met with a thrilled Isla.

“Yes, I heard you!” she exclaimed. “It’s about time!”

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