#i love writing by hand in pen ✨✨✨
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When BSD men have to carry you.
Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men
In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨
Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.
Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!
Edogawa Ranpo
You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.
Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.
The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.
“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”
“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.
“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.
Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.
You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.
Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.
“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.
Ryunosuke Akutagawa
You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.
As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.
Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.
The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.
He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?
The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.
He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.
“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.
Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”
Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.
Osamu Dazai
You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.
The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.
“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.
Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.
“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.
Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.
You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.
“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”
“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”
Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.
“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.
“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.
“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.
Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.
The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, please.”
Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.
Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.
“Hey, (Y/N),”
“Yes?”
“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”
“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”
You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.
Doppo Kunikida
The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.
You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.
Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.
Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.
Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.
“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.
“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.
Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.
You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.
You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.
“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.
“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.
Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.
Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”
Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.
You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.
“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.
“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.
“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.
You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.
The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.
Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.
Yukichi Fukuzawa
The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.
The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.
The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.
You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.
You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”
“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.
“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”
“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.
Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.
As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.
“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.
You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.
When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.
The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.
At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.
Nakahara Chuuya
Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.
Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.
“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.
Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.
As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.
“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.
Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.
Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.
“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.
“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.
“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.
“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.
You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.
Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.
The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.
“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.
“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.
“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.
Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.
Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.
Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.
When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.
“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.
Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.
“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.
“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.
You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.
It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.
Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.
You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.
Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.
Nakajima Atsushi
Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.
When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.
You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.
You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.
As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.
“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.
You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.
#bsd#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#rampo x reader#fukuzawa x reader#fyodor x reader#kunikida x reader#atsushi x reader#akutagawa x reader
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So how do you think Zayne, Xavier and Rafayel would react when their s/o has a boy best friend, purely platonic but makes other people have second thoughts about their relationship.
Hehehe have a good day, write this if your okay with this 🪐
boy best friend (l&ds x reader) ♡
what the stars reveal: 1.2k, no gender signifiers used for reader, established relationship, ✨jealousy✨ but with a healthy dose of respect partner juice, surprisingly well-adjusted xav, half-headcanon half-prose, slight allusions to lore if you squint
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ hello !! thank you for giving me an excuse to write jealous rafayel >:3 the love & deepspace brainrot is so real for me right now, hope you enjoy !
— zayne is really good at hiding it, but his tiny mannerisms bleed through enough to make it clear he’s worried. it’s not that he has an issue with you having guy best friends, it’s just that everyone else seems to assume you two are together despite zayne standing right there.
Zayne just stares. Blinks. Stares. Blinks again. You have to nudge him as a reminder that he is, in fact, in public, and that introductions are usually reciprocated by both parties. As soon as you make contact, it’s like a switch flips.
He breezes through his name, occupation, and a firm handshake (not too loose, not too tight), making it look so effortless that you almost forget he’d frozen like a statue as soon as he laid eyes on your best friend. Almost.
He does his best to hide it, but it’s clear something’s wrong. The slight clip to his voice, the furrow of his brow, the hesitance in his eyes when he looks at you — they may be imperceptible to the untrained eye, but all the telltale signs are there. It’s only a matter of time before you get an answer out of him.
“I’m an adult. I don’t worry about those kinds of things,” he says when you voice your suspicion a few days later.
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s true,” he continues when you shoot him a disbelieving look, shuffling the papers on his desk in an attempt to seem nonchalant, “I have absolutely no problem with him.”
You don’t say anything else, simply fix him with a deeper look and cross your arms. He doesn’t crack. It takes a whole five minutes of him pretending to go back to work before he sighs and makes a show of signing something.
“I may,” he says, setting the pen down gently, “Be slightly… somewhat…”
“Jealous?” you finish.
“No,” he says. “Annoyed.” Then, quickly, “Not at you. Or him. Just everyone else.”
You don’t quite understand. “Everyone else…?”
Now it’s Zayne’s turn to fix you with a look. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
Notice what? you want to ask, but refrain since you don’t want Zayne thinking you’re more oblivious than you already are. You rack your brain for something, anything that you can remember from that day, until…
“Oh,” you say. You do remember getting quite a few stares even before you and your friend coincidentally ran into Zayne. At first, you thought it was because you were still in uniform, but you realize now that it may have been for a completely different reason.
Zayne doesn’t respond, just taps his fingers against the wood of his desk, a nervous tic.
“Those were people who got the wrong idea,” you continue. Then, when his mouth dips into a frown, you move to stand beside him. “I don’t mind hunting them down and telling them just how wrong they were.”
At this, his frown begins to lift. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I would, though.”
He looks at you clearly for the first time in a few days, a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” you say. You maneuver yourself between him and the desk, falling into a half-straddle. “I’d go to their house, knock on the door, and tell them exactly how Dr. Zayne and I make out every Friday eveni—”
You feel his hand brush against your mouth, closing it.
“Alright, alright,” he interrupts with a small smile, “I get it. I’m secure enough in our relationship not to worry.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “Just don’t miss any checkups.”
“I’ll be right on time, as always,” you say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “And if anyone asks, i’ll tell them exactly who my boyfriend is.”
“Thank you.”
— xavier isn’t sure why you think he’d be annoyed, since your best friend seems nice enough. if anything, you’re the one that seems nervous, broaching the topic with him only to realize he hasn’t minded from the start.
Xavier looks a bit confused. His eyes shuffle between your face, his phone, and the twisting hands in your lap, a small, awkward smile beginning to spread on his face.
“Am I supposed to be… worried?” he asks.
“Are you?” you respond.
This prompts a light chuckle from your boyfriend. He shifts on the couch, turning until his arm rests on the back and his body is angled towards you. “Not really. What about you?”
You shrug. “Maybe a little.”
This seems to surprise Xavier, and you can’t blame him. You’re a bit surprised, too, given that most people’s roles would be flipped in this context.
Still, you can’t help it. Even though you’ve known your best friend for years — much longer than you’ve known Xavier — you don’t want your boyfriend to feel like he’s being overshadowed in his relationship with you. However, it currently seems like those worries are unfounded.
“Well, the way I see it…” Xavier leans in, brushing his lips against your temple, “… it’s wonderful you have so many people to share your life with.”
“You really think so?” you ask, just to make sure.
“Of course. Although…” He leans back, then, mid-afternoon light filtering through the window and washing his features soft gold. His eyes sharpen like sun rays piercing through a cloud. “… if he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”
— rafayel is very loud and clear about his jealousy, and you can count on him to become clingy after you hang out with your best friend. ultimately, you know he doesn’t mind nearly as much as he says he does, so you’re happy to indulge his want for attention if it means you can comfort him when he’s insecure.
Rafayel, as he is wont to do, makes his feelings known immediately and with such startling clarity that at first you think he’s joking.
“You’re serious?” you finally ask, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards into a smile while his stay fixed, pouting.
“Of course I am,” he says. He glares at the empty air beside you head as if it wronged him in a past life. “I mean, it’s fine and all, I guess, but we haven’t seen each other in four days. You haven’t even taken me plushie hunting. And yet…”
“And yet…?”
He crosses his arms and mumbles.
“Use your words, Raf.”
He sighs. “You were with him all day. People were staring.”
“And so you’re jealous,” you deadpan, “because my best friend helped me with a case.”
“Yes!” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I could’ve helped too! If you keep going around without me like that, you’ll… you’ll…” Something changes in his eyes, and he clicks his tongue, looking away. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
You know your boyfriend well enough by this point to grasp what he’s hinting at. Putting your own frustration aside, you lean in, the soft fabric of Rafayel’s shirt brushing against your fingertips. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek.
“I’m not going to forget you,” you say. Then, you find his arm, uncrossing it so you can take his pinky in yours. “Promise.”
Slowly, slightly, the tension in his shoulders begins to release.
“Can we go plushie hunting?” he mumbles. Then, “Just the two of us?”
You smile. “Of course.”
🩵 bonus hc 🩵: i mentioned it in zayne’s part, but i like to think he drums his fingers against any available surface when he’s nervous or worried. between that, pushing up his glasses, and fiddling with his pen, you can read his mood based off of how much he messes with the objects in his vicinity.
(also also rafayel is so petty when he’s jealous, i know this one is basically canon but i just love it sm ♡)
© 2024, written by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.
#⌞ ✎ sunder.writes ⌝#love & deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love & deepspace x you#l&ds x reader#l&ds#love & deepspace zayne#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#l&ds zayne#l&ds rafayel#l&ds xavier
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✨Enchant Me Chapter 2: The First Date✨
Series Masterlist
A/N: I love writing this series so much and can’t get over how cute these two are 🥹 I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this one and hope you enjoy!!
Chapter Summary: You and Joel go on your first date 💜
Pairing: Joel x witchy fem! reader
Word Count: 9k
Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)
Chapter Tags: Mutual pining, flirting, first date, Joel buys reader a flower, Joel visits reader’s tea shop, star gazing, first kiss, falling in love, so much fluff, chapter is in both Joel and reader’s POV
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Joel can’t seem to keep his mind focused the next day at work. He only thinks of you, your hypnotizing eyes, your beautiful smile, your sweet, delicate soul. It’s all he sees, all he hears as your infectious laugh floats dreamily through his mind. It’s you. You, you, you.
He needs to see you again, needs to hear your melodic voice as you talk endlessly about your love of roses and teas. He can’t stop smiling, can’t stay still as he paces back and forth restlessly inside his wooden shop. Tommy doesn’t take long to catch on as he knows something’s up.
“Joel, you alright there? You’ve been pacing back and forth this entire mornin’. And your face, are you actually smilin’?” he laughs as he leans up against the register and slicks his long, greasy styled hair back.
“Everything’s good, Tommy. Just peachy,” Joel calls from across the store as he comes up to the worn register, meddling mindlessly with a stack of colorful pens in a glass cup that sits next to the computer screen.
“It’s her, ain’t it?” he smirks.
“Who?” Joel asks like he has no earthly idea what Tommy is rambling about, but he sure as hell knows who he’s talking about. He’s talking about his enchantress.
“You know damn well who I’m talkin’ ‘bout, Miller,” he smirks with a raised eyebrow as he points his index finger at Joel. A sure sign that he caught him in a lie. “The girl you delivered that table to. I told ya, didn’t I? She’s a beauty that one.”
Joel runs a hand through his unruly curls and stares at the linoleum floor, eyes slowly reaching up to meet Tommy’s view. He sighs, knowing lying won’t do him any good. “Yeah, it’s her. She really is somethin’ unique. She’s gorgeous,” Joel gushes as a small smile curls against the edges of his lips, his cheeks turning slightly red as he imagines your soft smile, your gentle touch, your eccentric beauty, your everything.
“Oh, man. You’ve got it bad, brother. Look at you blushin’ and smilin’ just thinkin’ ‘bout her,” he teases as he hits Joel playfully in the arm. “You gonna see her again?” he asks with his eyebrows knitting together, eyes hounding Joel for more information.
Joel doesn’t even take a second to contemplate his answer, he just lays it out flat. “Yes.” There’s no question about it. “You know she has a tea shop just a few minutes up the street?”
“No, I didn’t. That seems to suit her perfectly though. You should stop by at lunch today. Go see her,” he encourages Joel.
Joel contemplates his options carefully. Would you want to see him? Is it too soon? No, definitely not too soon. He paces back and forth for a minute, flexing his fingers together as nerves pull in his stomach. When he stops at the counter again, he makes a decision.
“You know what, Tommy? I think I will,” he decides.
Tommy comes around the register and gives Joel a strong pat on the back. “Proud of you, brother. Go get her,” he smirks.
Right as the clock hits noon, Joel practically runs out the door as he unlocks his truck and starts the engine up. The truck roars to life as he drives it carefully out of the empty parking lot and into the busy streets of Austin.
The day is sunny and warm, the wind barely blowing as its howls echo through the dry air. He stops at a red light and taps his fingers against the leather steering wheel, eager to get to the tea shop, to you.
In just a few short minutes, he’s pulling up to the parking lot of his destination. The place he’ll find you, his enchantress.
As he gets out of the truck and closes the door, he takes in the dainty sign that reads Starlight’s Corner. The sign is a light shade of purple, a little crescent moon in the corner of the S as it sits neatly above the storefront.
When he walks in, chimes carry softly through the lit up store as he passes through. A golden moon star crystal suncatcher hangs right next to the glass door, carrying sparkling beams of light that make little shadows appear against the cream colored walls.
“Be right out!” you call from the back of the store as you hear the wispy wind chimes call your name. “Just finishing up this batch of tea. I’ll be right with you!”
Just the sound of your voice makes his skin crawl with goosebumps. He loves the sound of it, a sweet heavenly sound he could listen to all day long. It’s so very dreamy, misty.
He walks around the quaint little store, taking in the whimsical surroundings that fill your space. Tall white shelves line each corner as decorative tea cups and kettles sit displayed in neat rows. Pictures of green forests, colorful butterflies, and different phases of moons paint the walls in a sea of vibrant colors. Bags of all kinds of herbal teas sit out amongst the front of the butcher block counter.
Joel traces his fingers over a row of books that are all about the history of tea and then his eyes slide along the back counter where different containers of brewed tea sit out for customers to buy. The air smells like home baked goods and cinnamon as a plate of sugar cookies and blueberry scones sit wafting inside a closed up container by the register.
He takes another walk around the little shop and smiles to himself as he trails his finger along a dark display case of sparkling crystals that seem to glisten in his eyes. The vibrant orchid flowers spilling over the edges as he remembers you telling him about these kinds of flowers yesterday. He shakes his head, chuckling quietly at how much you probably love this little shop. This place is so unique, special. It’s so very… you.
“Hi, there. What can I…” your voice trails off as soon as you see him. Joel.
Joel turns around and faces you, his breath catching as soon as he sees your face. Today you’re in a light pink sundress, the skirt just barely grazing the bottom of your creamy thighs. The strapless v-shape of the dress dipping as it hugs your soft curves perfectly. Your hair is down today, silky locks ending in soft curls as they kiss your shoulders.
Your lips are berry stained red, glittery eyeshadow raining down as the glitter seems to bring out the vibrant colors of your eyes even more. And then that soft smile pulls at your lips when you realize it’s him. He thinks he’s about to fall to his knees, thinks you’re absolutely stunning, a vision only the gods should be worthy of.
Joel thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The prettiest enchantress he’s ever laid eyes on. Enchant me. The words echo through his head on repeat like a broken record. He would be so lucky if you were his. So very lucky. He just had to have you.
Please, be mine. Be mine.
“Oh, Joel,” you say with a lilt to your soft tone. “Hi.” You give him a dreamy smile and bat your long eyelashes at him. It nearly takes him out.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he drawls out, a sideways smile appearing lazily over his mouth. You can’t seem to take your eyes off him.
“Didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing here?” you ask as you stand behind the counter smiling up at him.
He clears his throat and rolls the sleeves of his green button-up flannel up, walking over toward you as he places his hands on the edge of the counter. “Thought I’d drop by on my lunch break to see your shop. I was cravin’ some of that delicious sweet tea you made yesterday, was hopin’ you’d have some brewed up when I got here,” he smiles, making tingles run clear down your spine.
“Oh, you liked my tea so much you just had to stop by today?” you flirt, your eyes beaming into his as he stands right across the counter from you, so close but not close enough.
“That’s right, darlin’. Couldn’t stay away from that pretty face of yours,” he blushes as he runs a hand straight through his curls, feeling the back of his neck burn with heat.
He never flirted like this before with anyone. Not until he met you.
“Oh,” you giggle, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “What’s your favorite kind of tea? I have plenty of flavors,” you say as you move your arm to the back counter and trail your fingers over each container. “I have anything from chai tea to green tea to black tea to sweet tea and so much more.”
Joel watches you move along the back counter as your dress swishes around you fluidly. He thinks you look like you belong in a painting, a masterpiece at best with the way your hair falls over your shoulders and your sun kissed skin from the garden seems to glow in the haze of the store lights.
“I usually just get sweet tea, but I’d take anything, darlin’. Give me whatever you think I’d like best,” he says easily.
You purse your lips and let your eyes fall over his tanned arms and soft brown eyes, his thick fingers sprawled over the edge of the counter as you have to fight yourself to not reach your hand out to his. You quickly assess him, taking your best guess.
“Hmmm,” you hum. “Do you like peach flavored drinks?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Perfect. I think you’ll like this one then,” you answer as you grab a compostable cup and fill it with your specially made herbal peach tea that you put a little extra love and care into making today. You turn and hand Joel the cup as his fingers graze along yours, making your fingertips tingle with fiery sensations.
You watch him tilt his head back as his curls fall into a tousled heap. You watch the orange liquid slowly disappear as he gulps it down, leaving half the cup empty. He wipes his mouth clean and sighs as he looks back up at you, his caramel eyes beaming into yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t know how you do it, but your tea is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You’ve got a gift.”
You bat your eyelashes at him and shake your head nonchalantly. “You’re too kind, Joel. Here, let me pour you some more.” You grab his cup and fill it back to the rim, carefully handing it over to him as he takes it with a thank you leaving his mouth.
“Here,” he says as he digs in his wallet and takes out a five dollar bill, placing his closed fist on the counter as he tries to give you money.
“Oh, no, Joel. You don’t owe me anything,” you say as you try to wave him off.
“Gotta pay for it, darlin’. Here, take it,” he insists as he pushes his hand further over the smooth wooden counter.
“No, really. Joel, don’t. I don’t want your money,” you say, refusing the green bill as you place your hand gently over his, pushing it back toward him.
He feels your smooth hand slide over his as your soft skin mixes into the roughness of his. He swears his heart skips a beat as you hold your hand over his. He’s unwilling to move, unwilling to do anything except stare into your breathtaking eyes.
“You sure, sweetheart?” he asks with knit eyebrows as he leans into your gentle touch.
“Positive. Consider it my special discount,” you wink playfully. “You can come get tea whenever you like, Joel. I don’t want your money though.”
“No? What do you want then?” he asks as he leans against the counter, your hand still clasped over his tightly as you lean closer to him.
“Just your company is enough for me,” you say quietly.
You feel the room suddenly go still as you’re so very close to him now. So close that just an inch more and you’d be grazing your lips against his. You can almost taste his flavor, peach tea collecting on his lips as you see the sheen liquid cover his bottom lip. He looks so inviting, so very tempting. And you’d really like for him to break the distance and kiss you now.
Kiss me. Please, kiss me.
Suddenly the moment is broken as you hear the door chime loudly as a customer walks in. You pull your hand away from Joel’s and watch him take a few steps back, fingers dragging through his salt and pepper scruff as he takes a breath and moves out of the way of the front of the counter.
“Hi, welcome in,” you smile, feeling your cheeks burn red from the interrupted moment between you and Joel. You wish it wouldn’t have been interrupted. Would he have kissed you? It seemed like he kind of wanted to.
You look up and see who it is, noticing one of your favorite customers as he walks in with a button-up yellow Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. “Oh, Tony! Nice to see you,” you shout as he comes over to give you a quick hug hello.
“There’s my favorite tea maker! Mary said to tell you hello. She’s out sick today with a bad cold, so I thought I’d grab her some of her favorite tea,” he announces as he pushes the wide rimmed gold glasses up to his nose, his grey hair fluffing up from the wind.
“Oh no, poor thing. Tell her I’m thinking of her. Here, take a scone for her. I know she loves them.”
Joel watches the interactions between the older man and you, observing the way you carefully package up a blueberry scone and get a gallon of green tea prepared. He trails his hand along one of the glass displays with intricate tea sets inside and watches the way you smile carefree as you cash the man out and talk fondly of your garden.
“You will have to drop by sometime to help Mary with her sunflowers. The poor things dried up immediately last spring when she planted them. I know she’d love your company,” Tony says as he takes the white sack of scones and grips the gallon of green tea in his other hand steadily.
“I’d love to! Anytime she wants me to come help her in the garden, just give me a call. I’d be more than happy to help. They probably just needed a little more shade and water. A little love goes a long way,” you smile.
Joel stares at you, watching the way your infectious smile seems to light up the room as you talk of sunflowers and gardening. He thinks you’re so soft, so gentle the way you care for others. And you’re so sweet. Sweeter than the peach tea Joel just drank down. The tea that you gave him.
Soft. That’s exactly what you are, and Joel can’t help but to fall harder for you in that moment. His little enchantress. You enchanted him.
When the customer walks out the door and the wind chimes stop singing, Joel moves back up to the counter and places his cup full of peach tea down on the smooth surface. He pushes a curl out of his face and starts the conversation up again.
“Thanks for the tea again, sweetheart. You didn’t have to give it to me for free,” he chuckles as he embeds his fingers into the edge of the wood.
“Joel,” you give him a knowing look, “you heard me. Please, just take the tea,” you laugh, crossing your arms over your smooth dress as you smile over at the man with pretty brown eyes.
“Fine. But I owe you,” he states adamantly as a brow lifts in place.
“What do you possibly owe me?” you laugh, letting it echo across the doorway.
“A date.”
Your lips fall open as you suck in a breath. A date. He wants to take you on a date.
“A date?” you ask nervously, hands now fidgeting with your crystal necklace as you try to not bite your lip as nerves flood your insides.
“A date,” he nods, confirming the words. “What about tonight? You doin’ anything tonight?” he asks as his big chocolate eyes look at you with hope pulling in those lavish eyes.
“I was just planning on making some spaghetti tonight, but I’d love it if you came for dinner? Will you come for dinner?” you ask with hope running through your veins.
Please, come for dinner. Let me show you my world.
“Darlin’, I’d love nothing more,” Joel smiles, brown eyes clashing into yours. You’d never been so excited to cook dinner for someone. “But I’m not lettin’ you cook alone. I’m helpin’. Just tell me what to bring and I’ll bring it.”
“How about you bring some French bread? That’ll do. I have all the other ingredients I need at the house,” you say with your fingers knotting into the skirt of your dress.
He’s coming for dinner.
“Alright, French bread it is,” he nods. “How’s 6:30pm sound to you?”
“Perfect,” you beam.
“Perfect,” Joel echoes back.
Joel looks at the time on his black military watch and huffs out a breath. “Well, I gotta get back to work. Got a customer coming in a few minutes to pick somethin’ up,” he sighs as he picks up his cup of peach tea and taps his fingers against the counter. “Thank you for the tea, sweetheart. Nothin’ tastes as sweet as your tea,” he says sweetly as his eyes flick down to yours.
“You’re welcome, Joel. I’ll be sure to make you some more,” you smile.
His eyes trail over your soft hands then back into your glowing eyes, eyes he wants to wade in forever. He gives you one more smile then starts to head for the glass door, eyes roaming over the room until he gets to the doorway and looks back your way.
“See you tonight, little enchantress.” He winks your way and then disappears out the door, dragging your heartstrings along with him as he leaves your heart beating wildly for him.
You lean against the counter and rest your chin in the palm of your hand, sighing as you watch Joel pull out into the busy street and disappearing down the road. You can’t wait to see him tonight.
You’re having a date with Joel Miller. This was the most exciting day of your life.
You open the purple shutters and crack the windows, letting the burning sage flood out into the crisp evening air as you light lavender candles in the space of the dim lit living room. Soft music plays through the air as the smell of blueberry muffins cooking in the oven waft through the lit up kitchen. As you pass Oliver in the long hallway, you bend down and scratch behind his orange ears before you pad off to your bedroom.
The scent of vanilla lingers through the room as the blown out candles still drift softly through the air. You turn the overhead light on and stand in front of your mirror, smoothing out your pink sundress and slipping the bristles of the sparkly pink brush through your soft locks of hair.
You touch up your makeup and paint some glossy red lip gloss over your lips, puckering them together before taking one last look at yourself. You straighten the crystal amethyst necklace on your neck and spritz a dash of lavender perfume on before you spin in a circle and decide you’re ready. Joel will be here any minute.
You turn off the lights and leave the room as the timer on the oven goes off, signaling the muffins are finished baking. You shove some scarlet oven mitts on and take the muffins out, setting them on top of the stove to let them cool off. They’re fresh, fluffy, and smell delicious. You just hope Joel would love them. Maybe he’d want to take some home with him.
Just as you start to boil some water and set the various ingredients out for the spaghetti, you hear the rumble of his truck and see his bright headlights shine through the window. He’s here. You see the truck lights go off and hear the squeak of his leather boots against the front porch, and then he’s knocking on your front door.
Your heart starts beating incredibly fast as you pad over to the door and open it quickly, almost letting out a gasp at how good he looks. His tousled curls are slicked back with gel holding them in place, his flannel forgotten as he wears a denim button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone, exposing his large neck as tanned skin peeks through. Dark washed jeans cling to his strong legs, and you can’t help but stare at what he holds in his hand. A single red rose.
He brought you a rose.
“Hey there, sweetheart. Don’t you look pretty,” he gushes as he holds out the blood red rose for you, his smile lingering on his handsome face as his deep brown eyes stare back at you endearingly. You reach your hand out and take it, letting your fingers brush over his as a chill runs through your insides.
“You got me a rose?” you ask quietly, completely melting at the fact that he even thought to get you one.
“I did. I saw it in the store when I was picking up some French bread, and it just got me thinkin’ of you.” He blushes shyly and brushes past your shoulder while you close the door behind him, watching him set the bread down on the little oak table in the corner.
It got me thinkin’ of you. Joel’s so charming, so sweet.
“Thank you. That was really sweet,” you smile dizzily as you inhale the sweet scent and set it down on your glass coffee table.
“It was nothin’. Consider it a small token of my appreciation for the tea today,” he replies, eyes finding yours as he walks into the kitchen. “Blueberry muffins? Now how did you know those were my favorite, darlin’?” he grins as his eyes roam over the fresh muffins and then back up to you.
“I was hoping you’d like them. Go on and try one. I just took them out of the oven a few minutes ago,” you say as you walk to the edge of the counter, your hands sliding over the smooth surface as you watch him pick one up and take a bite.
You watch him swallow the first bite and it’s like his eyes light up as they go wide, turning slowly toward you as he parts his plush lips. “These are the best muffins I’ve ever tasted! Holy shit. What all did you put in these?” he asks as he takes another large bite until it’s completely gone.
“Oh, you know. Just my love and care,” you giggle as you let the flirtation flit through the air.
He just shakes his head as you hear him chuckle, the sound reverberating through your soul. “Well, sweetheart, they’re incredible.”
“I’d make you some anytime you wanted,” you say quickly without even thinking. He just smiles and nods, the edge of his lips curling up to expose a dreamy smile.
He’s so handsome.
“Might take you up on that,” he laughs.
“So, dinner?” you ask as you wind around to the stove and start to pour the noodles into the boiling water. “If you want to open the can of marinara sauce for me, I’d really appreciate it. Need a big, strong man to twist the lid off for me,” you flirt, giggling to yourself as you internally kick your feet in the air.
“That so, darlin’?” he laughs as he grabs the can and twists the lid off with almost no effort. It’s too easy for him.
You shake your head and smile to yourself. “Made it look too easy.”
“Nah. Was a piece of cake,” he shrugs. “Maybe you just need a man around here more often. You know, to help ya out if you need help fixin’ something or something breaks or just need a pair of hands to help you in the garden.”
“Oh, really? Think I know anyone that would want to do that?” you ask, smiling as you finish mixing the noodles in, letting them simmer over the boiling water.
“I don’t know, darlin’. Might just ask whoever you gave that purple rose to,” he smirks.
He’s flirting and he’s funny and he’s so charming. You like him so much already.
“Maybe I will,” you say shyly back, the smile staying on your face as you spend the next half hour preparing dinner with Joel.
The two of you pass each other by, sliding against the back of the counter as your hands gently brush one another’s, your hip bumping up against his as small apologies and infectious smiles fill the little kitchen space. His eyes never quite leave your face as he chops some tomatoes, his sappy brown eyes flicking up to yours every few seconds. And you can’t stop laughing, can’t stop smiling as he tells you silly little jokes and sends sweet compliments your way.
You think you like this. Having someone to cook with, to laugh with, to have fun with. You’ve barely scratched the surface with Joel, and it’s like it’s as clear as day. You two would be the perfect match. He compliments you so very well, and you’ve already decided you wouldn’t mind if he’d just come back again and again and again.
When dinner is finally served, Joel sits next to you at the wooden oak table and brushes his knee against yours as you take a bite of the marinated spaghetti. It’s delicious, the spice really bringing out the rich flavors of all the ingredients. You see Joel take his first bite, watching him closely as his eyes get wider the second he lets the noodles slide down his throat. You let out a giggle as your knee lightly knocks against his.
“Sweetheart, I’ve gotta say everything you touch is magic. Your tea, your muffins, your spaghetti. Everything,” he drawls proudly as he takes a sip of the hibiscus tea you made just for him.
“You helped me cook dinner,” you reply with one eyebrow arched up as you spin your fork around the thin noodles.
“Yeah, but still. Your creations in the kitchen are to die for,” he smiles as he takes another big bite. The red sauce spills down his chin and without thinking you reach your thumb out and wipe it off, placing your finger in your mouth as you lick it clean. He puts his fork down and just looks at you, eyes fixed intently on your lips as you feel warmth flood your cheeks.
“Sorry,” you inadvertently apologize, pushing your hand under the table as you latch on to the hem of your dress. Why did you do that?
“S’alright. Nothin’ to apologize for, sweetheart.”
There’s a heaviness in the air. Something like thick tension and slight fog that wraps around your head. He scoots his leg over and it gently brushes over yours as you feel tingles slide along your entire leg, feeling your nerves fire off as you quickly break the tension.
“Right…” you trail off, eyes going back to the plate of spaghetti. Just before you twirl more noodles on your fork, Joel reaches out and drags a thick finger over your shiny crystal hanging from your neck, making you gasp at the contact.
“S’pretty. What kind of crystal is it?” he asks curiously as his thumb drags along the smooth edges of the crystal.
“It’s amethyst. One of my favorite kinds of crystals,” you fawn as your eyes stare into those deep pits of honey warmth. Swooning as his fingers continue to graze the necklace. His eyes flick up to yours as a smile tugs up the corners of his mouth.
“I guess I should’ve known by now. It’s purple and it makes those pretty eyes of yours glow even brighter, little enchantress,” he calls out, making your insides coat with warmth.
Little enchantress.
He’s so dreamy.
“Oh, thank you,” you quietly respond as you feel your cheeks redden from his lingering eyes. “You always have a way with words, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t take much, sweetheart. You’re just very… beautiful is all,” he smiles.
Beautiful? Oh. Oh my.
“Beautiful…” you repeat back, lost in a daze as his words repeat over and over in your brain in a never ending cycle.
“That’s right. Beautiful.”
There’s that tension again. The one that makes your head swim and your heart race a million miles per hour. And there’s those eyes again. Those deep brown eyes that seem to stare straight into your longing soul. His foot curls under yours, the side of his thigh pressing heavily against yours. A simple affection that makes your heart spiral out of control.
For a second you think he might lean in, but then he clears his throat and sits up straighter as he notices Oliver tip-toeing under the table as his little feet pad against the dark wood.
“Hi, Oliver,” you say with a greeting as you reach down to rub his furry head. Joel just watches you, a smile tugging at his mouth as his eyes wander back down to Oliver. “You gonna go say hi to Joel?” you ask as he steps over to Joel and rubs up against the edge of his ankle, purring his hello as he heads into the kitchen.
“He definitely likes you,” you nod as you find Joel chuckling to himself.
“Yeah, you think so?”
“I know so,” you confirm.
Another deep chuckle rumbles out of his chest as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Sarah would never believe this.”
The gears in your head start to grind, bringing questions up that you don’t know the answers to. “Sarah? Who’s Sarah?” you ask cautiously as you tap the fork lightly against the glass plate.
“Oh,” he says with a nervous expression as he slides a hand through his slicked back curls. “She’s uh… well, she’s my daughter,” he says quietly as he looks up through the fringe of his dark eyelashes.
Daughter? He has a daughter?
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” you say sweetly, lips curling into a smile as it seems to relax his stance. “How old is she?”
“She just turned twenty this year. She’s a sophomore in college now. My little girl is growing up,” he says as he bites his lower lip, probably trying not to get too emotional as he thinks about it. He must be such a good father. That smile. That majestic, radiant smile. He must love her so much. He is a good father.
“Do you have a picture of her?” you ask, trying to dig inside his chest and find out every single thing about him.
“Oh, yeah. Got one on my phone, just a second,” he says as he digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera roll and stops on one picture as he holds the phone out to you. “That’s me and her last summer at the lake. She’s almost as tall as me,” he laughs casually.
You look at the picture and take in the surroundings. Clear blue water, bright skies, and kayaks. Joel stands in a light blue t-shirt and black swim trunks, and his daughter stands next to him. Tall, thin, long curly hair that passes down to her shoulders. They look so happy in the picture. He must love her a lot.
“She’s really pretty,” you smile.
“Yeah, she is,” he beams, his crooked smile pushing a dimple into view as you nearly swoon at the sight.
He’s so handsome.
Thoughts of her mother come into focus. A mother. Was Joel married before? Was she still in the picture? Was he still seeing her? You push down the negative thoughts and press on. “And the mother? Is there… is there anyone in the picture?” you ask cautiously, stepping over lily pads in a crocodile infested swamp.
He huffs out a sigh and shakes his head. “No. She uhh… she left a couple days after Sarah was born. Said she never wanted to be a mother, didn’t want the responsibility of her. So she left her with me. Haven’t seen her since.”
She left? How could anyone want to leave Joel? He’s so good, so perfect. You couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to leave him.
He chokes back a muted response, and you see just the slightest hint of a wet tear swimming in his eye. You didn't want to upset him, you never want to upset him.
You slide your hand on top of his and curl your fingers around him. “I’m so sorry, Joel. That must’ve been so awful. I can’t… I can’t even imagine anyone wanting to leave you or her. I’m so, so sorry,” you apologize through thick words, knitting your brows together as a look of concern washes over your face.
He leans forward, placing his other hand on top of yours as he squeezes gently. “No, don’t apologize, darlin’. S’not your fault she left. It was probably for the best. Me and Sarah got along just fine without her. So don’t worry. I’m alright,” he responds as he slowly gulps a lump down in his throat. He might say he’s okay, but you can see just a tad of sadness behind those honey eyes. And you want to take that away, make the pain go away forever.
“I just hate hearing that. How could she hurt you like that? I couldn’t… I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” You freeze, realizing just what you said as fear strikes your insides. You said too much. You said too much.
As if he sees the fear inside your eyes, he squeezes the top of your hand as a gentle smile spreads wide over his beautiful face. “No, I don’t imagine you would, sweetheart.”
You blush at that, and he continues on. “But enough about that. What about you?” he asks curiously, eyebrows raising as he waits for an answer.
“What about me?”
“How can a gorgeous girl like you not be taken by someone already?” he asks, patiently waiting as his fingertips brush lightly over yours.
Gorgeous. There’s that word again.
“Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve dated, really. Guys aren’t… well, guys these days aren’t very nice. My last ex told me I was ridiculous for collecting crystals and spending my days in the garden. Kinda hurt my feelings,” you say quietly as you purse your lips and knit your eyebrows together, trying not to get too in your head over the whole ordeal.
“Ridiculous, huh? That boy was a fool,” Joel spits as anger flashes like fire through his eyes. “Any boy who broke your heart had no idea what a sweet, beautiful girl you are. Frankly, they’re fuckin’ blind. I mean look at you. You’re the most stunning girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Your gardening and collections make you unique. And you are, you’re so unique. You shine so bright like a diamond in the rough, little enchantress,” he purrs, his honey eyes melting into yours as you nearly sink to the floor in a wet, muddled puddle.
Unique, diamond in the rough, stunning, beautiful.
Soft. He’s so soft.
You’re speechless, mouth hanging open as your eyes water over. He’s so good, so very gentle and sweet. And if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you sure as hell have now. Soft. Joel is so… soft.
“I… uh… thank you, Joel,” you whisper out, nearly tumbling over your own words as you try to get a hold of yourself.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
He holds your gaze and slowly squeezes your hand again as his knee knocks gently against yours. You look over at the clock and see that it’s nearly 9:00pm. About the time when all the fireflies are out dancing in the flower fields. You get the perfect idea then as you straighten up in your chair.
“Do you want to go see the stars?” you ask excitedly, eyes getting big at the thought of Joel stargazing with you.
“See the stars?” he asks with an intrigued expression over his warm face.
“Yeah, in the backyard. They’re so pretty out here, and tonight there’s barely any clouds so you can probably see the Big Dipper,” you smile.
Please, say yes. Take my hand and watch the stars with me.
“Yeah, I like stars,” he confirms with a nod. “Gonna teach me a thing or two about the constellations?” he asks eagerly as a warm smile slips beautifully over his handsome face.
“What do you think?” you smirk, eyes full of wonder as he takes you in.
He chuckles, pulling back his chair as he stands and holds his hand out to you. “Well, c’mon then, enchantress. Show me your world,” he smiles.
Show me your world. He wants to see your world. He wants to know you. The real you.
You smile and grab a large blue blanket as you let him lead you out the back door, your hand in his as he holds it tight. It feels good, feels warm, feels so right in yours. And you know then that this is more than a date. He’s someone you want to keep seeing again and again and again. And you hope he stays, you hope he wants to stay for you.
Please, stay.
You walk ahead of him and keep your hand curled around his, leading him down the cobblestone path as you make your way under the wooden garden arbor. The green vines catch your shoulder as you walk past, and the red rose bushes blow gently through the night breeze.
LED lights glow along the winding path as fairy lights glow in the near distance, their lights bursting through tall flower beds and scented rose lilies. Tree frogs sing their night song as crickets chirp back and forth through the green grass, their voices echoing in the distance as you continue walking through your dreamy garden.
You feel Joel’s eyes roam around your colorful garden, wildflowers sprawled every which way as shades of blue, pink, purple, red, and every other color meets your gaze. A look of surprise and maybe even wonder flit past his eyes, his mouth opening as he takes in the glowing fairy lights and the flickering fireflies that dance all through the painted flower beds.
“Wow, this is really somethin’. Looks like I stepped into a fairytale,” he laughs as his brown eyes land on you. “You did all this?”
“Mhm,” you nod as you stand still and look around the lit up garden, your hand falling from his as you trail your index finger over a soft white tulip in the ground. “It’s my own little sanctuary.”
“Must’ve taken you a long time, I’m guessin’,” he answers as he drags a hand through his wind blown curls, looking so ridiculously good as his eyes train on you.
“Yeah, but it was worth it. I still have a lot I want to do. Like I still need to find a bench that I can place right over there.” You point to the middle of the garden, right in front of tall vines of grapes and berries as a bundle of sunflowers sit behind that.
Joel flicks his eyes to where you point and then back to you. “Oh? You been lookin’ for one?” he asks curiously as he crosses his arms and takes one step forward, his leather boots crunching in the lush green grass as he takes another. One step closer to you.
“For quite some time,” you sigh.
“Anywhere particular you’ve been lookin’?” he asks with one eyebrow cocking up, taking one step closer to you as he crunches against the soft ground.
“I’ve looked everywhere it seems. I’ve been to every hardware store around town, looked at endless websites until I scrolled through every page I could. Just nothing has stood out to me. Guess I just haven’t found what I want yet,” you say quietly, another huff leaving your chest as you stare at the vacant spot where you envision the perfect wooden bench.
Joel stands there looking where you are and then back at you, feet shifting their weight against the ground as he gulps before asking. “What do ya want?” he asks softly, eyes trailing over to you as you slowly turn and grin up to him.
“I don’t know. I guess I envision maybe a teak garden bench where the sides are open. Maybe flowers somewhere on the bench. Something more personalized than anything else I’ve seen. I just want it more… me. You know?” you say dreamily as you daydream about the perfect garden bench.
Joel looks at you carefully, eyeing you closely as you gaze around the lit up garden. His lips twitch, but no words come out of his mouth. He’s thinking hard about something, gears grinding in his head of things you can’t quite discern. But he looks like he wants to say something, maybe even do something.
Something swirls in his eyes as his eyebrows thread together and his fingers flex against his palm, concentration seeping through his broad shoulders. He wants to tell you something, but he just grits his teeth and shakes his head. Whatever he wanted to say was gone now.
“Well, enough about that. Come on, the best viewing spot is over here.” You hug the blanket closer to your chest as you lead him to an open field with wildflowers spread in a big circles around you, encumbering you with floral scents that you can almost taste flying through the thick air. You lay the blanket out carefully and sit down, patting the spot next to you as Joel quickly joins you on the blanket, his body just a few inches from yours.
Joel looks up as the stars shine bright in every direction, encasing the dark sky in trickles of light. “Wow. You definitely don’t see stars like this in the middle of the city,” he says with awe as he leans further back against his hands, his button-up pulling at his bulging biceps.
“Yeah. That’s why I love it out here so much. You can see the stars every single night, and it’s just absolutely lovely.”
You lay back against the soft blanket, your head resting on the ground as you sigh and take in the sparkling stars in the sky. They seem to shine extra bright tonight, like diamonds in the sky. And maybe it’s because Joel’s here, like the stars know it’s an extra special night. Your first date, the best night you’ve had in a long time.
“Hey, isn’t that the Big Dipper?” he asks as he points high in the sky, finding the biggest and brightest star in the night sky. And he’s right. It is the Big Dipper.
“You’re right, that’s it,” you beam with excitement. “You know about stars?” you ask as he looks down at you while he leans against his elbows.
“Just a little. Not anything like you though. You’re probably an expert in that too, aren’t ya?” he asks with an amused look on his face.
You shrug, giving him a shy smile as you dig your fingers into the blanket. “I mean, I do know a lot. I have a couple of books on stars,” you blush nervously, not wanting him to know just how much you have studied the stars in your spare time.
“Don’t be coy, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide from me. Go on now, tell me how much you know,” he coaxes as his eyes meet yours, all warm and welcoming as he smirks down at you playfully. You can’t help but giggle as he tries to ease it out of you. And that’s it, you can’t hold back from him.
“Okay then, you’re right. I do know a lot about stars. In fact, I have a few books on my shelf in my room. Might even have a telescope somewhere in my closet,” you stammer out, cheeks flushed as he stares at you silently, eyes gazing into yours.
“‘Course ya do, darlin’. Such a smart girl,” he purrs out, making you blush even more at his kind compliment.
Your eyes wander back to the sky as you search for the constellations. It doesn’t take you very long to spot one instantly as your voice grows louder than before. “Hey, look! Up there. Do you see those four stars connecting together, kind of in a slant?” you ask as you point to the sky.
Joel looks up, but doesn’t see where you point. “Where at, darlin’? Can’t quite see it.”
“If you come down here maybe you’d see it,” you laugh, your voice carrying through the wind as a lone firefly lights up over the corner of the blanket.
“Maybe you’re right,” he murmurs. He lays back against the the blanket as his shoulder brushes yours, chills running down your spine as you can smell his woodsy scent swirling all around you. It’s almost too much. He smells so good, and you wish you could bottle it up and release it all through your cozy room. Have his scent draped across your pillow so you could breathe him in every night.
“Now, show me where you were pointing again.”
You point back to the constellation as his eyes follow your finger, closely monitoring the sky as he squints just a bit and finally sees what you’re seeing. “Oh, I think I see it now.”
“That’s Aries. The ram. There’s a whole story on how Aries got its name, but I won’t bore you on that subject,” you reply, eyes floating through the stars as you try to find another one.
“You couldn’t bore me, sweetheart. You can talk about it as much as you want, doesn’t bother me. Like hearin’ you talk about things you love,” he responds with a lilt to his voice. Soft, quiet, assertive as he drops his head to the side and flicks his eyes over to you. You look over at him and smile back, eyes quickly scanning back over the sky.
“If you say so,” you giggle. You point back up to the sky and start talking about the stars, pointing out Ursa Minor as you tell him the it’s named Little Bear, going more in depth about the history as your eyes grow wide with excitement when you spot another bright star in the sky. Going on and on about the stars in the big night sky, pouring your heart out as Joel carefully listens to you.
Joel turns his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face as a smile slowly spreads across his lips. He’s captivated, fully immersed in every word you say. His eyes flick over your features, long hair spread across the blanket as your eyes seem to glow as you look up at the stars. He sees the glitter around your eyes sparkle, sees the shine of your lip gloss glistening in the moonlight.
He can’t hear the wind, can’t hear his own breathing. All he hears is your soft voice blowing through the wind, getting warped inside his mind as it sounds like a dreamy tune. Words as delicate as a lullaby as it slowly sends him in a romantic trance. All he sees is you, all he can think about is you as his mind says your name over and over and over again. He sees your beauty, your passion, your entire heart. He sees you, just you. And he knows he’s fallen. He’s fallen hard, fast. Maybe too fast, but he doesn’t care. He knows what he wants right then and that’s you. It’s you.
He drops his hand from his chest and it lands against the soft blanket, the back of his hand lingering against yours as he glides it back and forth, brushing ever so softly against your delicate skin. Your breathing speeds up, your throat catching on a sigh as he slowly digs up enough courage to slide his hand into yours, softly entwining his fingers with yours as you feel your heart start to gallop like wild horses running freely through a wide open field.
His hand in yours feels like it’s exactly where it belongs as he brushes his calloused thumb across the back of your hand, time freezing as you feel his eyes staring softly at you. “You know what you remind me of?” he asks as his thumb continues its journey over your skin, your fingers curling around his affectionately.
“What?” you whisper, eyes searching as his shoulder brushes up against you once more and his brown irises fade into yours.
“A binary star.”
You gasp. A binary star. Oh. That’s romantic.
“A binary star?”
“Mhm. Two stars that revolve around each other. Both bound together. Unable to part from the other. Rare. Special…” he purrs as he scoots closer to you, leaning closer, closer, closer until his forehead is grazing yours, brown eyes blazing into yours as his mahogany scent seems to drown you, bathe you in pure bliss as all the stars seem to fade around him. It’s just him now, only him.
“Yeah? You really mean that?” you breathe out, your chest suffocating on nerves and anticipation as he leans in closer, a tousled curl falling against your forehead.
“I mean it, darlin’. You’re a beautiful binary star. My binary star,” he smiles, breath blowing against yours as you see nothing but him. Joel, Joel, Joel.
He called you his beautiful binary star. His.
“Oh,” you quietly elate, gaze falling into his as he comes closer, closer, closer. His hand grazes your jawline, slowly sliding his calloused fingers against delicate skin. And your skin burns for him, igniting the flames as you dance in them, burn in them.
His forehead meets yours, lips brushing up against you as you feel him, smell him, breathe his air. All dizzy with mahogany and pine scents, his brown eyes locking with yours. And you swear you see entire galaxies in his eyes, Heart Nebula etched in his irises, and you see your reflection as clear as day in them. You see yourself embedded in the heart shapes. Brown, warm, calling you to him like you belong right there in his eyes.
His eyes trail down to your glossy lips, lingering there just a second as he dips lower, lower, lower until he’s hovering right there, right where you feel him the most. His eyes linger back to your eyes as you see just how beautiful he shines against the night sky. He’s the only galaxy you see now. Everything else slipping slowly away as his breath consumes you.
And then he smiles. Warm, soft, so ridiculously tender. His calloused fingers cupping your chin as he slowly sinks down. Slowly, so subtly.
“My little enchantress,” he whispers, and then he closes the distance as his lips sink down on yours.
His lips are so soft. Velvet clad lips that seem to melt against yours. The entire world goes silent as the wind seems to halt and the hum of the crickets go mute. It’s just you and Joel caught in this dreamlike, whimsical moment. It’s just you and him, all wrapped up in each other as you slot your lips and allow him access to you. He slips his tongue in slowly, delicately as he traces it over yours. Two souls dancing together as you get lost in his honeydew taste, in his warm embrace as he grazes his thumb against your cheek gently.
Gentle. He’s so very gentle with you, so careful as he continues to trace his lips over yours. You taste him, drink him down, pour yourself out to him so he’ll take all that you have to give him. You're his now as much as he is yours. And it’s in that moment that you realize this is what you’ve been waiting for your entire life. It was Joel.
You get lost in the kiss as the sparkling lights surround you, lighting up the nighttime as you stay just like that for what seems like an eternity. You don’t know how long you’ve been connected, don’t know how long his lips have lingered on yours, don’t know how long his calloused fingers stayed trailing along your jawline. But when you finally do disconnect from each others lips, he hugs your body into his chest and holds you close. Your arm reaches across his body, and you grab a hold of his button-up shirt as the soft material slips between your fingers. His hand slowly travels up, up, up until he’s covering your hand with his as he threads his fingers through yours, lacing them together like that’s exactly where they belong.
You breathe deep, inhaling his woodsy scent as you look to the stars. They seem to shine brighter now, a clear message that this is where you need to be. That Joel was a star sent from the sky just for you. Your own binary star.
“Your binary star, huh?” you ask again, wanting to hear the words come out of his mouth again and again and again.
“My binary star,” he smiles.
You seem to float away, joining the stars as you stay entangled with him on the soft blanket. Unwilling to move, unwilling to leave this perfect night. It was beautiful, it was all beautiful. And you just couldn’t stop thinking of the words that left his mouth.
My binary star.
Tags: @5oh5 @vividispunk @vvitchesh3x @strawberri-blonde @thischarmingmandalorian @r3dheadedwitch @laurrrra @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @forgetmenotsexy @vie-is-punk @msjarvis @reddedmiller @vee-bees-blog @lorilane33 @mountainsandmayhem @keylimebeag @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @thethirstwivesclub @joelmillersblog @tuquoquebrute @princesatracionera @princessanglophile @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @akah565 @casa-boiardi @prettytulips @ezrasbirdie-main @orcasoul @vivian-pascal @dugiioh @pedrostories @cherrybombsxxx @ka-x-in
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller pedro pascal#soft!joel miller#soft joel miller#joel x fem! witch reader#joel x f!reader#joel x reader#enchant me#joel miller fluff#joel fluff#lots of fluff#falling in love#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#no outbreak!joel miller#no use of y/n
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Hi Klara! I love your work SO MUCH 😍
I am in the midst of finishing my thesis right now and very stressed. I was wondering if you could write a lil piece of Levi helping the reader with some ✨stress relief✨? 😉
I would be more than happy to do a lil Levi sketch for you in return! ❤️
Hey Raena! Lovely to see you in my ask box! I adore your art! 💕 and you don't have to do anything in return, reading and enjoying my fics is enough! :))
Levi Ackerman x fem!reader
Nsfw 18+, mdni, heh Levi using you like a flashlight because it's what you deserve, I'm not sorry
Levi knew the moment he walked into your office that you were stressed. Your body was tense as you focused on the work before you, papers spread all around your desk. The mess annoyed him but scolding would only make you more stressed and he didn't want to do that.
He eyed the empty plate that sat on the desk beside you as he approached you. "How long have you been sitting at your desk?" You look up at him, eyes tired. "Few hours. I just need to get this done."
Erwin told you loud and clear earlier that he wants the paperwork to be done by tomorrow morning and he is the last person you want to disappoint.
"Take a fucking break at least." It's not new to Levi that you overwork yourself, you have done it in the past even before you two got together. He remembers all the nights you used to sit with him and help him work, that's one of the ways you two got close.
"I'll take a break after I get this done, I have to finish this." You try to stretch your neck but instead, hiss at the pain. "Don't be stupid." Levi walked behind your chair and put his hands on your shoulders.
"Your body is stressed. You need relief." The tone of his voice is telling you everything and while the first instinct is to reject him so that you can finish your work, your body is already relaxing at his touch.
Levi massages your shoulder before his fingers reach your neck. You lean into his touch, a sigh leaving your lips and you drop your pen on the desk. "Get up." He says, voice dripping with lust.
You do as you're told, he pushes the chair away, his hands immediately flying to your hips. Before you can say anything, he kisses you on the lips, pushing your body back until your ass hits the edge of your desk.
Sitting on it, you spread your legs and Levi is in between them in no time, his lips never leaving yours. Tongue slips past your mouth, kisses getting rougher and rougher.
He wraps your legs around him and you feel his hardness press against your core. You moan against his mouth, hands flying to his black hair. Levi rolls his hips against you, creating more friction that both of you needed.
Pulling away, he moves onto your neck placing open-mouthed kisses on your skin. You hum when he bites on your sweet spot, and that only seems to fire Levi up more as his hands squeeze your ass.
The paperwork is the last thing on your mind now, you only want Levi to fuck the stress out of you. You reach for his jacket tugging it off his shoulders, he lets you take it off but as soon as the fabric is on the floor, one of his hands swipes everything off the table while the other travels back to the nape of your neck.
Neither of you care that the plate smashed on the floor as Levi lays you down on the wooden surface. You pull him by his cravat and kiss him passionately meanwhile his hands are undressing your pants.
Levi is quick with it and you're left in your underwear in a second. His lips move down your neck, collarbones, he kisses over your clothed breasts before he reaches the fabric of your panties.
"You're so wet. You've stained your underwear baby." You whine when he licks over your covered pussy, his hands are caressing your inner thighs. "Want my mouth on your pretty pussy hmm?
He kisses your inner thigh, nibbling at the flesh slightly. "Yes. Please Levi." How can he deny you when you beg him like that? His fingers hook around your underwear and he slides them off of your legs.
"Mmm look at you." Levi eyes your wetness before diving his head between your thighs. Your back arches off the table, a whine surpassing your mouth. This really is what you needed.
Gently he places a hand on your navel to keep your hips down, his fingers play with your clit as his mouth pleasures you. You tug at his hair and he grunts against your folds when you moan his name.
It seems like Levi needed this too, he handles stress better than you do but it still gets to him. As his tongue works on your pussy, you reach up your body to squeeze your breast. That action doesn't escape Levi.
Your hand is soon replaced with his own, massaging your flesh through your shirt. "That's a good girl." He mumbles against you before speeding up the movements of his tongue.
"Levi! I'll cum!" Your head moves side to side, loud moans leaving your mouth. "Cum on my tongue pretty girl. Go ahead." You put your hand over his, eyes closing as white pleasure washes over you as you cum.
When Levi pulls away, his chin is dripping with your juices. He watched as you breathe heavily on your desk, his eyes shamelessly running up and down your body.
"You're too fucking pretty." He leans over you, placing kisses on your face. Although he brought you to an amazing orgasm, you want more, you want him inside of you.
"Want you inside," Levi smirks against your skin. "I have to make you cum on my fingers first." Without warning two fingers enter you and you gasp which makes Levi kiss you. He didn't lock the door and quite frankly, wouldn't care if someone walked in.
His fingers pump inside of you restlessly, it won't take long before he has you cumming again. Breaking the kiss, Levi looks at you as your face drowns in pleasure. "Think you can take three?"
You nod without hesitation and he adds a third finger, loving every sound that comes out of your mouth. His other hand rests beside your head to support himself, he can't wait to be inside of you.
Your walls stretch deliciously around his fingers, a weird sensation starts to build up in your abdomen and Levi feels it when your pussy clenches around his fingers.
"Fuck. Fuck Levi-" Before you can process, you squirt all over his fingers. The satisfaction that Levi gets from that is something he can't explain, your pleasure is his pleasure.
"Oh interesting....." He pulls his fingers out of you just to put them in his mouth so that you can watch. "I'll never get tired of the way you taste love." With a smile, you peck his lips. "I still want you inside."
Levi takes your body and carries you to the sofa in your office, kissing you all the way. He lays you down as your hands work on taking his cravat and shirt off.
You bite into his neck as soon as his skin is exposed, he lets out a huff. It wasn't always that he let you mark him just because he didn't want people to question him about it however it's what you wanted and he won't deny you.
With clumsy hands, you undo his belt and he undoes your blouse to expose your breasts. Letting your hand sneak past his underwear, you stroke his cock with your hand. "You're so hard captain..."
"Well, no shit." You smile when he slaps your hand away and pulls his underwear down. Levi pushes his cock past your walls slowly, letting you adjust to his size before he starts thrusting.
"Oh fuck." Your voice is whiny, you pull Levi down to you, wrapping your hands around his neck. He groans at how warm your pussy feels for him, he has fucked you so many times but will never not love the way you feel.
He takes your legs and throws them over his shoulders, like this you swear you can feel him in your stomach. "So deep Levi..."
"I know. You keep f-fucking clenching on me." Levi kisses your leg before his hips snap at a fast pace against yours. It's a pace that you craved, one that has you almost drooling.
There's no other sound in his office other than the moans you two are letting out and the wet sounds of his cock pounding into you.
The rain that's starting to fall against your office window only adds to the atmosphere. "Taking me so fucking well. Want me to cum in you huh?" His thrusts get deeper and stronger, each one sending pleasure down your body.
He lets your legs fall but takes your hips, slamming you on his cock. "Oh my God! Levi!" You put your hands on his strong hands that hold your hips, nails digging into his skin.
"Yeah? You love it when I fuck you like this?" Nodding your head, your head starts to spin when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it.
Your pussy clamps down on his cock, legs start to shake. You'll cum and by the way that Levi isn't slowing down, he wants to cum inside of you.
"Levi! Please, I want to cum!" He pulls away from your breast, eyes coated with need. "Fucking cum. Let me feel you." And it's better than you expected, you cum on his cock and it's one of the best orgasms he has pulled from you.
Levi grunts a few more times before he is cumming too, painting your insides white. It's not safe but it's what you both craved.
His head drops down on your shoulder, breaths heavy against your sweaty skin. "Still stressed?" You laugh, kissing his forehead. "No thank you, captain."
Both of you clean yourself up but you end up falling asleep shortly after. Levi finished all the paperwork for you that night and even if he didn't get much sleep, he is glad that you aren't under stress anymore.
---------------------------------------------------
Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @cometlevi @luvjiro @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @ackermendick @notgoodforlife @humanitys-strongest-bamf @levisbrat25 @laraackerman @yakaaamoz @sparkywrites25
#levi#levi x reader#levi ackerman#aot levi#captain levi#attack on titan#levi x you#levi attack on titan#levi smut#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman smut#levi x fem!reader#levi x y/n#levi x reader smut#levi ackerman x y/n smut#levi ackerman x female reader#aot x y/n#aot x reader#aot smut#shingeki no kyoujin levi#levi aot#attack on titan smut
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Random HC W/ Rara
Okay, some time ago someone asked for Raphael crumbs… here you go my bae <33
There is no order cuz I just wrote it down as I pleased (btw, send me an ask again if it was supposed to be nsfw)
- He cries when he gets angry. You know what I mean? When you get so angry that you start crying. Yea, that’s him.
- probably used to chew on his nails/ pen a lot. Now he just chews on meat
- he fell down the stairs at least once. Yep. Even though he has wings. It’s almost worth a price don’t you think?
- gets irritated and confused if he learns new stuff, like:
“Wait, what do you mean the moon doesn’t shine on its own?? It’s literally shining right now!”
- I like to think he likes cuddles, or at least doesn’t mind it
- would dress up as Santa Claus for Christmas, if you asked him to
- bad at DIY stuff, like really bad with his hands (ops)
- if good at cooking and baking though, he loves food after all
- sleeps like a fucking stone, sometimes he’d shore too and its so annoying
- when he was a kid he definitely played in the dumpsters
- don’t ask, but he’d like the coquette trend
- likes drama, he has come to enjoy any kind of drama cuz of Gabriel and Michael
- the Typ to shower in the mornings, cuz Gabriel and Michael does it in the evening and he wanted to be special ✨ (just kidding he doesn’t want to wait for the others, he’d rather watch them fight over who gets into the shower first)
- question: does the seraphim’s share a bathroom/ shower too? Is it like a shared apartment?? (Should I write down bc about that?)
- love language is words of affirmation!! Cuz he never got any from his daddy!!
- and would try anything out for ya, just to hear he did a good job
#whb#what in hell is bad#rara whb#what in hell is bad rara#whb rara#whb raphael#what in hell is bad raphael#Raphael whb#whb Angel
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How would the bots and cons handwriting be like? (Sorry for my bad English lol)
Ahhh! I love this idea! Had WAY too much fun with this.
Bots and Cons Handwriting
Optimus:
-Can write insanely neatly, and in literally ANY font
-Everything he writes looks like it came straight from Google Docs
-He can perfectly recreate Comic Sans, much to the children's amusement
-Handwriting KING
-He's too powerful
Arcee:
-Her handwriting is gorgeous
-She writes very neatly, definitely in cursive
-Everything she writes looks like a diary from the Victorian era
-Majestic✨✨✨✨
Ratchet:
-Cursive, but MESSY cursive
-Like, REALLY messy cursive. What is he even writing? Who knows? It's a mystery.
-You know, cuz, like, that's how a pharmacist's prescriptions look, and he's a medic. Lol
-Ratchet has messy pharmacist handwriting
Bumblebee:
-His handwriting is so cute😭
-Basically Comic Sans
-Not PERFECT Comic Sans like Optimus, but just bubbly and adorable
-Having legible handwriting is something he practices a lot, since his voice box is broken. Writing is a nice way to express himself if need be.
-He has kindergarten teacher handwriting
-My dyslexia would be so happy
Smokescreen:
-Neat enough handwriting, but HE WRITES SO BIG
-All caps, all the time
-He goes through too many notebooks, because he saves NO space
-Poor guy. He just has a big personality
Bulkhead:
-Unreadable
-His hands are just way too big
-Very messy. Only Wheeljack can read it because he and Bulkhead share the same braincells
-Bulkhead and Ratchet get in arguments, because Ratchet's reads Bulk's handwriting, and is like: "Bulkhead, your attempts at penmanship are downright INCOMPREHENSIBLE."
And Bulkhead's like: "You say that like any of us can read yours!"
And Arcee's like: "I second that."
And Bumblebee buzzes in agreement.
Ratchet just rolls his eyes, like "ugh." Because he can't argue. HIS handwriting is gibberish, too.
Ultra Magnus:
-Opposite of Smokescreen...Ultra Magnus's handwriting is TINY!
-Seriously, where is it? You need a microscope.
-Only the humans can read it, because it's so small. And even THEY have to squint
-It's also PERFECT. His handwriting is very neat
and blocky, like a typewriter
-If only we could actually see it
Wheeljack:
-He's like, a graphic design CHAMPION
-He learned handwriting from Miko, so he loves big bubble letters. He decorates them with cool patterns, like flames, and lightning bolts
-Very stylish
Megatron:
-What I can only describe as "spooky cursive"
-Very formal, and kinda gothic
-He'd use some kind of calligraphy pen with very dark, splattery ink, or, like, whatever the Cybertronian version of a quill is.
-He's an elegant guy...well, sort of, except most of what he writes consists of:
"My dearest Starscream,
It is with great regret (note my sarcasm, Starscream.) It is with great PLEASURE that I must inform you...
I have caught you invading my stash of dark energon, once again.
I will be grinding you into scrap metal momentarily.
Yours truly,
Lord Megatron."
Starscream:
-Starscream has the ABILITY to write neatly, and in cursive
-But he writes very scribbly, because he's angry
-If "ranting" was a font, it's the font he writes in
-Also, he probably keeps a rage journal, where he trash talks everyone he knows
-Somebody help him🥲
Soundwave:
-Handwriting? What's that?
-He probably uses his internal computer to make documents, and prints them
-And when he prints things, they probably slide out of his neck. Terrifying. So he prints things to freak Starscream out
-It's beautiful
-If Soundwave was FORCED to handwrite, he'd do it in computer code, or morse code, or something weird like that. Everyone would be baffled trying to understand it.
Airachnid:
-Very splattery
-But that's what happens when you use energon and human blood as ink.
Shockwave:
-Writes in calculator font
-Like, the font a calculator has
-He says it's "the most logical font"
-Starscream constantly judges him for it
Breakdown:
-Definitely not neat, but not Bulkhead levels of messy, either
-He doesn't have the best handwriting, but he can make some pretty good doodles
-If, for some reason, Megatron assigned Breakdown and Knockout a task involving handwriting, Breakdown and Knockout would both doodle instead of being productive
Knockout:
-Ooo! So majestic!
-It's very bold
-His handwriting is suave and announcer-y, just like him
-It'd also be curved slightly to the right, like italics
-Almost like something you'd see in a commercial, or a movie trailer, or a billboard
-Like a NASCAR advertisement (y'know, because race car)
#It would honestly be so funny to watch Cybertronians trying to use a tiny human-sized pencil#having existential crisis over whether Soundwave can be a printer#tfp#transformers prime#tfp headcanons#tfp arcee#tfp optimus prime#tfp bumblebee#tfp ratchet#tfp bulkhead#tfp smokescreen#tfp knockout#tfp starscream#tfp megatron#tfp airachnid#tfp ultra magnus#tfp breakdown#tfp wheeljack#tfp soundwave
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Hello, I hope you are well! Recently I read a fanfic of yours on Ao3 about Ticci Toby and I fell in love with your writing!! I loved the way you develop the characters and their feelings!! 🤧💕✨
I would like to know if you write for Creepypasta X Virus, it is one of my favorites but there is almost no content online about it 🥹👉🏻👈🏻
Anyway, I saw your requests are open! If the idea pleases you, I would like to ask for headcanons of X Virus and Toby (or just Toby) with a reader who practices magic and has somewhat "dark" tastes (interest in poisonous animals/plants and the supernatural as a whole, in short, just a scary and adorable nerd at the same time!)
Thanks!! 💚
ahh! hello-hello!! i read x-virus' story and took notes for these, i really enjoyed writing Cody, so thank you very much for the request :-]
i rlly liked this request, and this is actually the first time i've ever done headcanon-ish things, i hope you enjoy these (bc i enjoyed writing them a lot)
x-virus & ticci toby: reader with macabre interests
relationships: ticci toby x reader, x-virus x reader
word count: 1.5k
links: available on ao3
x-virus warnings: animal death (off-screen, animal body shown) animal dissection, taxidermy, canon-typical violence
ticci toby warnings: canon-typical violence
☣︎ X-Virus | Cody _____ ☣︎
You let it slip one day that you wanted to try taxidermy, an embarrassing guilty pleasure you were confident you could keep under wraps, but Cody’s just been so nice about your eccentricities and you couldn’t help yourself.
“They use bugs in the process, lots of museums have them to clean the bones because they’re better than the best person with the best tools—” You pace back and forth as Cody watches you from your bed, “—Because that’s all they do, all they do is eat rotting flesh off the bone. The bones last much longer when cleaned by any Dermes—”
You stop yourself from mentioning the insects by their scientific name, embarrassed that you let your ramblings slip away like that.
Cody leaves the next day and you’re left alone with your thoughts. Maybe there’s another mansion full of serial killers so you can start fresh, your ears burn recalling how excited you got talking about flesh-eating bugs.
A few days later, Cody returns to the mansion with a limp raccoon and some things it stole from the local morgue.
You spend the entire night together trying to preserve this creature’s hide, you take it apart with precise motions, expertly moving the scalpel along the skin and parting flesh and sinew. You soak the skin in salts, rubbing it into the bloody underside until you smell like copper and the salt mines.
The whole room smells like formaldehyde, too.
✸ ☣︎ ✸
Cody is so excited to share its books with you, all of them. You spend long evenings together curled over a battery-powered lantern and ten-pound textbooks, occasionally mentioning an interesting tidbit when you come across one. Your books are filled with flattened foliage from the surrounding woods, poisonous plants and flowers, plastic baggies filled with poison ivy leaves, and hand-drawn diagrams of each plant’s internal structures in a ballpoint pen. It flips through each page carefully, examining each specimen, complimenting each note and observation.
“You should open a museum,” It says, running a finger over a pressed Conium maculatum. That snaps you out of your science headspace.
You should, but you can’t. “Besides, who would enjoy a museum like that?” You argue.
“Think about the Mütter Museum,” It quips back, “If people frequent a museum full of pickled people-guts and spines, I’m sure people would go to yours. People like flowers.”
In another universe where violence wasn’t at the forefront of your mind, maybe you’d be the curator of a weird little museum full of oddities.
✸ ☣︎ ✸
“Toby comes here all the time to burn CDs, don’t worry, the cameras stopped working years ago and they never bothered to fix them,” Cody pushes open a window and climbs into the air-conditioned computer lab of the local library, “Just don’t knock anything over, I guess.” It jokes.
You drop through the window and feel goosebumps form on your arms, you haven’t felt air conditioning in years.
Cody unlocks the door leading to the rest of the facility, you walk side-by-side, dragging your fingers over the spines of dozens of books.
“You know the Dewey Decimal System, right?” Cody asks, there’s a thrill with breaking in, especially for pleasure (rather than worrying about killing every occupant in a house, you both can focus on finding a specific edition of a book you were dying to read).
“By heart.” You joke, guiding it to the 500s: Natural Sciences.
You spend five hours squished up together reading from the same book. It points to a diagram and you explain every minute detail, Cody listens eagerly to your explanations, wanting to ingrain every word that comes out of your brilliant, perfect brain, and memorize the way you describe the venom sacs of the Hydrophis schistosus.
The way it rolls off your tongue—Hydrophis schistosus—Cody wants that to be the last sound it ever hears, the sound echoing forever in its brain until the heat death of the universe.
You creep down to the 200s and find a few textbooks about niche religious practices. You tell Cody about the rarity of cannibalistic religious practices, and the prevalence of cannibalism in some movies ticks you off.
“Cannibalism isn’t that common,” You scoff, “It’s more than socially taboo, it’s biologically taboo. Ever heard of Kuru?”
“Tell me.” It begs.
✸ ☣︎ ✸
⦻ Ticci Toby | Tobias Erin Rogers ⦻
Every word that comes out of you flies over his head. Even though he doesn't know a thing about what you’re telling him about, he’s completely and utterly enamored. Toby never graduated high school, and—for the most part—he’s glad he didn’t have to spend any more time around high-school people.
He misses learning. Sometimes Toby thinks he’s stupid, Tim and Brian went to university, and they have high school diplomas with their names on them somewhere, Toby has nothing except an honor roll card from the eighth grade. You’re so brilliant, maybe part of him thinks he’s weighing you down by stopping your ramblings to ask for clarification. He’s so deep in thought he hasn't been paying attention to your talks about the Ghent Altarpiece’s connection to ancient practices of animal sacrifice.
“Does it bother you when I do that—when I don’t know things a-and you gotta explain it to me?”
You’re sitting on the porch together looking out over the rolling fog, he sucks in a breath, the tip of a Marlboro lighting up orange-hot.
“I like it, actually.” You say matter-of-factly
Toby’s diaphragm sputters as smoke spills from his nose, and he coughs hard into his elbow. “...Doesn’t it—But I’m interrupting you because I’m too stupid to get it the first time—”
That word gives you pause, and Toby tosses away the cigarette butt and curls into himself, shame burning hot on his face.
“I don’t think—”
“E-Everyone does,” He cries, “I-I can’t help it, I couldn’t even finish high school. Tim and Brian made it to college, at least.”
You push yourself into his personal space, knocking your knee into his as you lean over to share a secret.
“I can teach you if you’d like.”
Toby’s red-hot shame melts into a giddy flush as your warm breath lands on his ear.
✸ ⦻ ✸
The next victim that comes Toby’s way—a family of three with a prying-eyed teenager getting too close to discovering the mansion—grants you both access to the internet for a time.
You start with Wikipedia, it’s good practice to get bare-bones information that starts the deep dive. Marine Biology is the starting topic because the random article Wikipedia spat out at you was about the bigfin squid.
Toby mumbles aloud as he scrolls through the article, the picture on the right left the hairs on his arms standing on end. Little is known about it because it dwells so deep, and scientists aren’t entirely sure why its distinct long arms are there.
“Nobody knows how it feeds?”
“We know more about space than our oceans,” You say, “We have pictures of the Big Bang.”
Toby rolls back on the wheeled chair and pushes the keyboard to you.
You open a new tab and open the search bar.
COSMIC MICROWAVE BACKGROUND.
He pulls back in, opening the third link that pops up. You sit quietly as he devours an entire article explaining the picture’s existence, he’s vibrating in his chair. Toby continues the search without your input, googling words and finding plenty of pictures of smattered space dust orbiting tiny, dense stars.
The pictures of the black hole shake him to his core, nebulae give him chills, beautiful planets and star systems and moons and—
Alpha Centauri grabs a hold of Toby’s body and keeps him there. He pushes the monitor towards you and you read along with him, he’s shaking with excitement, free hand flapping excitedly as he scrolls through the academic journal.
He prints out a few pictures before the police show up, the cosmic microwave background bathing the room in greens and blues and smatterings of yellows and reds.
✸ ⦻ ✸
He starts stealing books from the library, as do you. You take turns showing and telling. He shows you astronomy books and you show him textbooks about the history of taxonomy; you spend hours sitting across from each other on the floor exchanging knowledge.
“I’m—I’m glad we did this. Thanks for doing all of—of that.”
You peek over an academic journal you’ve read at least seven times, smiling softly as Toby puts his new collection of literature into a box and pushes it into the closet. He piles a few flannels and shirts over the box to camouflage it amongst his dirt laundry.
“Why’re you doing that?”
Toby turns to you and turns away meekly, “...It’s our special thing, you get it? I don’t want anyone getting into our business. This is our thing. Our special thing.”
A warmth creeps up your neck as Toby holds your gaze. You close your journals.
“Babies have more bones than adults.” You whisper, your hand splayed over his shoulder blades, “About three hundred.”
Toby’s breath hitches as your hands warm the spot where his cervical vertebrae end and the thoracic meet.
“H-How many are—” He covers his mouth to cover a shaky breath, “—i-in the spine?”
“There are thirty-three vertebrae. Seven cervical,” You and trails down his back, “Twelve thoracic,” you creep further, “Five lumbar,” Lower and lower you go, “Five sacral,” You’re getting bold now, “...And four coccygeals.”
You hold your hands there, Toby enjoys the warmth radiating from your fingers, he wants to melt into you like watered-down clay (you would call it slip since you know everything). He wants to read books with you for the rest of his life and not do anything else.
He wants you to count every rib, every tooth in his mouth, every bone in his hands and feet—counting and counting and counting until he's dizzy.
✸ ⦻ ✸
#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#ticci toby x reader#x virus x reader#mecreepy#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta fanart#crp#creepypasta art#ticci toby#ticci toby fanfic#ticci toby creepypasta#ticcy toby#creepypasta ticci toby#tobias erin rogers x reader#toby creepypasta#ticci toby x y/n#ticci toby x you#toby rogers#x virus#x virus creepypasta#creepypasta headcanon#x virus x you#me first request give it up for me first request#woohooo#creepy pasta#creepypasta fanfic#ticci toby imagine#x virus imagine#mewrites
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Y/n being as crazy as Joker.....but can sorta hide it.
Imagine joker sitting at the table, trying to think of a way to carry out a robbery but every plan he thinks of had a fault and it's stressing him out. Without thinking y/n just blurts out a plan that is mind-blowing and perfect. She just says 'it's the voices in my head'.
However the plan goes left because some goon did something stupid. Joker gets caught by the batman and is sitting at the back of the police car in hand cuffs being sent to the asylum. When the police officer talks to him, he recognises the voice and the eyes from the rearview mirror and its his bunny blended in as a cop. Recklessly driving away and ending up in a car chase with many police cars and even a helicopter on their tail.
His Lighthouse: Paint the Town Red (LedgerJoker x f!reader)
Paint the Town Red - Oneshot
KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!
OOOOOOOOOOh my GOSH! Thank you to the moon and back @chelsea-xxx2003 for your patience! This request was a long time coming but I love love love loved writing it! This request is so old it makes me wanna hide in the box of shame!
But anyhoo!!! I hope you enjoy my love! Thank you once again for your patience (omg😭 please don't hate me!!) and if its not to your tastes, let me know! I can try again!🖤✨
Of course the song that inspired the plot 🤭
taglist:
@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse @jaysmentalspace
Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨
The saying, “You are known by the company you keep” could be misconstrued in so many ways.
For how can someone say they truly know a person?
Joker felt that he knew you both inside and out; his stubborn yet highly intelligent Y/n. He loved you to a toxic degree and he knew the feelings were mutual.
He’d only known you for a year, but he knew the itty bitty details that made you unique. You were quiet when necessary and rowdy at the most inopportune times. Your literary skills were profound at the cost of your social prowess.
J loved how you stumbled your way through conversations and your cute little um’s were to die for! But if given a pen and paper, you could move the masses with your words.
In Joker’s eyes you were just shy of being perfect. Sweet, innocent—you couldn’t harm a fly. He thought he knew his soft-spoken Bunny.
Come to find out: he didn’t know you at all.
Your dining room table was a war zone of stationery and mindless clutter.
Joker had parked himself there early this morning and had not moved since. You brought him breakfast and snacks but he would only grumble a quick, “Thanks Bun” to you before resuming his work. He was so fixated on this new heist idea that nothing else mattered. He couldn’t focus on anything if it wasn’t the blueprints in front of him or his phone that would chime with more reliable intel.
Come to think of it, you didn’t see him take a bathroom break. This robbery couldn’t be that important. You tried to get his attention despite failing every time.
Nothing was getting through to your dark clown, so you stopped trying.
You could tell planning was stressing him out, but once J was in his thinking mode, either he would finish or throw a murderous tantrum until he figured it out. All you had to do was wait for the outcome.
In the meantime, something you loved about Joker was his handwriting. It resembled nothing of the infamous madman. His penmanship was legible and slightly feminine with hints of cursive in unexpected places. Only Joker could get away with writing slaughter in pretty script. You did not expect him to have neat writing. It was a huge contrast to his deranged mental state.
It was soothing to watch J hunch over his notebook plotting out his next heist. There were so many intricate details that ultimately found their way into his notes—and you got to see the magic unfold in real time. You almost missed him groaning at the ceiling. He finally stopped plotting and started mumbling to himself under his breath.
A tantrum was imminent, so you decided to intervene before he went out and started killing innocent people.
“What’s bothering you, J?” You asked him.
His stressed-out green eyes immediately found yours from across the room.
You watched his pupils dilate taking in your beauty. You tried not to let his awe-struck reaction get to your head and instead focused your attention on his response.
“It's nothing to worry that uh.. pretty little head of yours with, Bunny. Am I... bothering you sittin’ here?” He gestured to his mess at the table while raking a hand through his dirty hair.
He needed to wash it but if he was going out, he needed to dye it. You would miss his natural sun kissed strands until the green faded out. A pity he covered up something so beautiful.
You shook your head, walking closer to him. “You are never a bother, J. I just came to see if you needed anything. You know... like a break.”
You made grabby hands at Joker’s hair and waited for him to voice his consent.
With a happy squeal, you carded your fingers through his greasy locs. The texture was a bit unusual, but it was an honor to touch Joker in such an intimate way that you overlooked your own discomfort to establish his.
Joker’s head fell back against your stomach in bliss. Your nails felt so good on his scalp, all his thoughts about the upcoming mission just melted away.
It was crazy how you automatically knew how to calm him down. J purred under your touch and you smiled at the overgrown cat at your mercy. This man worked so hard, he never stopped to take breaks and care for himself. He was blessed to have you around to remind him.
Not much it did with the stubborn clown, but the thought was appreciated.
The snacks you brought J were left untouched except for the sugary treats you added last minute. Joker and his sweet tooth. You rolled your eyes and they landed on his scattered plans.
From your advantage point, you could read everything from over Joker’s shoulder.
The heist was thoroughly thought out even in its rough planning phase.
Joker planned to rob the mob run bank in downtown Gotham, but you noticed there was something missing to tie it all together. He couldn’t seem to figure out how to access the bank’s service panels on the roof. You skimmed over the goons’ hired for the job. They were familiar names from your past and you remembered their individual skill sets. You knew who needed to be where to extract their ultimate usefulness.
The heist was scheduled to be done at the day’s end so that Joker could blend in with the district's school buses that drove by the bank everyday like clockwork.
It was perfect. Too perfect, hence why Joker circled alarm panel three times in red marker at the top of his notes and underlined, eliminate idiots twice.
There were open gaps within his idea. He didn’t know how to fill them.
Your poor clown was overthinking this and his little doodles on the plan’s margins were a sign of his restlessness. The solution was so easy; you couldn’t stop yourself from spelling it out for him.
“Baby.. have John John and Razor zip-line from the adjacent office building down onto the roof. John John can access the alarm panel and disable it. He’s got more situational awareness than Razor, so he’ll regroup with the two idiots you stormed the bank with. Tell them... it's only five shares, they’ll off each other to hoard all the money for themselves. Greed will have them turning their guns on their own accomplices. You won’t have to do a thing but watch. Before the bus gets there, there should be only one guy left. That way...”
You leaned down to kiss Joker’s scarred cheek. “You can kill him and the bus driver and make off with the cash. Easy.”
You resumed stroking his hair as if you didn’t solve his day long conundrum.
It was a mind blowing and perfect plan, one that he could’ve crafted if he weren’t so stressed but coming from his Bunny—it was even more diabolical. It was a glimpse at a darker side of you that he’d never seen before. He honestly didn’t know one existed.
He turned to stare at you in disbelief and you had the audacity to look surprised.
“I’m sorry, did I scratch too hard?”
You were worried about his hair rather than the plan you just orchestrated on the fly. How did you string it together?
He glanced down at his unfinished notes scattered on the table. Frost still had trouble decoding Joker’s long code, it was so complex, but you managed to decipher it and fill in the blanks within minutes.
“Can ya read that doll?” J pointed to his notes.
Were you not supposed to? It was clear as day, but you didn’t want to hurt Joker’s feelings if he didn’t like his own handwriting or something.
Joker stood up slowly, seeing you hesitate. He hoped he was just overthinking this.
There was no way his precious Light was some secret criminal mastermind. You wouldn’t harm a fly, yet he couldn’t ignore how easily you read his coded text. No one was supposed to unless they had previous skill in certain circles.
You sensed a shift in Joker’s demeanor and quickly backtracked.
“Um well, I.... I mean not really, no! The um voices in my head.. kinda filled in the gaps? Perks of being a writer, I guess? We can read anything! You have pretty handwriting if that’s the problem! Haha.. Wow! Would you look at the time? A-Are you hungry? I was thinking lamb stew with some fufu for lunch!”
You laughed and all but sprinted towards the kitchen, leaving a perplexed Joker staring after you.
Perks of being a writer? Was he really supposed to believe that? Although he did blush at the compliment you made towards his penmanship. You somehow managed to talk your way out of his suspicions with your sweet nature.
Joker watched as you washed your hands and forgot about the odd moment altogether. Watching you cook was the perfect way to distract Joker. It must’ve been a fluke for you to be able to read his code.
But why did he have the feeling you were hiding something?
Your plan was so foolproof, Joker didn’t change a single thing.
The day of the hit came, and everything went smoothly as if you personally knew the mindset of his hired goons. They played their part as pawns perfectly and Joker was able to drive the school bus out of the bank with no issues. His Light was secretly a genius!
What neither of you predicted was the loyalty of the bus drivers in front and the one behind Joker’s decoy.
Despite the hush money given, they still snitched to the GCPD, and the authorities had Joker surrounded by the time he broke off from the fleet. He couldn’t put up much of a chase in the worn-down vehicle and was quickly apprehended.
There was nothing Joker could do to get himself out of being hauled back to Arkham by his arch-nemeses, Batman.
J’s triumphant day was instantly a catastrophic failure.
The caped crusader was standing around, giving Jim Gordon the rundown of events as if he did all the work. They were talking for almost an hour now with no end in sight! All Joker could think about in the meantime was how many strings he had to pull to break out of Arkham to get back home to you.
He didn’t want you to worry when the news of him being captured aired. It was an inevitable outcome within the relationship, one that you mentally prepared for; but Joker had always planned on saying goodbye should this situation arise.
Joker hardly gave you a kiss when he snuck out your apartment for this robbery. He was so confident in your plan that he didn’t fathom the possibility of being caught and skipped his traditional goodbye. It was a small mistake that he regretted terribly.
Without a doubt, Joker knew you would sit up all night waiting for him only for a breaking news bulletin to squash your hopes of his return.
Escapes from Arkham took careful planning months in advance and eight times out of ten, they ended in failure. Joker couldn’t survive a day without his Light. Now he would be separated from you for an undisclosed amount of time before he could even begin plotting an escape. He was screwed.
He banged his head against the window in anger. Jim and Batman glanced over at the noise and didn’t notice a rookie cadet snatch the handcuff keys away from Jim’s belt.
Joker’s world was crumbling fast and the voices in his head were making things worse.
What will Bunny think deserting her like this?
She’ll never love you again for leaving without a word.
You’re gonna lose her forever.
No one said anything about the rage filled tantrum Joker was having in the backseat. They could hear his yelling and saw how the car was rocking violently as he flipped out.
Batman spent enough time talking with the Commissioner. It was time to transport Joker before he grew too volatile and risked an escape attempt.
Jim turned around and got the attention of a cop he trusted. “Hey, Cruz! You and the rookie take the clown back to the precinct. We’ll follow after we finish here.”
Cruz nodded and slapped his newly appointed partner’s arm. “Hah! Let’s go rookie. You drive.”
Joker was still fighting against his restraints when he spotted the two cops approaching the vehicle.
He found it odd that Batman wasn’t escorting him straight to Arkham Island. Instead, two average looking police officers were tasked with the job. Much to his amusement, one of the cops stuck another with a needle about halfway to the car.
Cruz crumbled to the ground and was dragged out of view of the surrounding GCPD officers. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see a corrupted cop and for that Joker didn’t raise an eyebrow at the sight.
He grew curious when the rookie hopped into the car and cranked it up.
They didn’t waste any time stepping on the gas pedal and flooring it straight out of the parking lot. It was only after they drove through the police barricade did a fellow cop shout, “HEY!” thus alerting the squadron of the situation.
Shouts rang out in attempts to pierce the tires, but the cruiser was screeching away like a bat out of hell. Joker couldn’t balance himself being handcuffed as he was.
He tumbled roughly into the door and had a mind to complain about it. “Who taught ya how to drive?!”
He was unsure if this person was his savior but his answer came when other GCPD vehicles gave chase. Even more surprisingly, the Batmobile was not in pursuit just yet.
“I know how to drive, thank you very much.” The erratic driver mumbled towards the backseat.
Joker’s head shot up hearing the voice. There was no way.
Despite the fast speeds and harrowing turns, he managed to right his balance and peer through the dividing glass at the driver. Your e/c locked eyes with his shocked green through the rearview mirror.
“Y/n?” Joker was sent headfirst into the passenger side door after you made a sudden turn onto the highway, literally on two wheels. Okay that jerk felt a little intentional.
J shook off the pain and overheard you laughing in the front seat. He was in shock seeing this rare side of you. Was he dreaming?
Joker almost didn’t recognize his Bunny dressed undercover—mainly due to the scarlet red wig you wore. This had to be a dream. Your e/c eyes were wild with excitement and much to his horror, there was a natural ease to you.
You were in your element speeding down the highway with an apprehended criminal in the back seat.
The police cars caught up and opened fire, yet you laughed at their pathetic attempts even as a few gunshots cracked the back windows of your cruiser. The odds were stacked against you, however you continued, swerving in and out of traffic, causing wrecks and utter chaos in your wake.
You spotted a familiar SUV driving parallel to you and waved at the driver. Joker was about to ask if you knew them when they introduced themselves in a bold fashion.
Two men leaned out the backseat windows and returned fire at the police. Their aim was true and hit the police tires, stopping them in their tracks.
Joker was speechless. How was any of this happening?
His brain didn’t have time to process anything when a helicopter highlighted the car from above. You groaned in anger but reached over to grab a walkie talkie.
“Up top! Up top! Up top!” You chimed into the device.
Then it finally clicked to J. Somehow you were in on this daring escape. He didn’t care about his fate; you were the only concern on his mind.
Joker banged his bound hands onto the divider glass to get your attention. “Bunny! This is dangerous! Ya gotta stop!”
All you did was roll your eyes and scoff. “Mm that’s cute coming from you!” You shifted gears when you spotted something up ahead. “Thank God! Our backup has arrived!”
Joker glanced out the window and only saw Gotham civilians trying to get out the way and the all black SUV shooting back at the GCPD. That wasn’t backup? He didn’t understand anything at this point. The spotlight overhead was keeping you and him visible to the authorities so what could you possibly have in mind to escape?
“What are ya talkin’ about doll?! What backup?” Joker saw twin 18 wheelers up ahead open their hatches. His green eyes widened at the heat they were packing.
What he didn’t see was two more SUVs entering the highway, already aiming at the police helicopter with rockets.
In response to his question, all he received was your maniacal laughter as you reached one hundred and twenty miles per hour. From there, everything happened simultaneously.
You spotted the tank Batman called a car fast approaching and radioed to your men. “Light em up, boys.”
Your cruiser whizzed past the two trucks and the now three support SUVs at the precise moment they blocked the highway and unleashed their weaponry on the unsuspecting police.
It was a war zone. News outlets later on reported that the highway sustained so much damage, it would need to be repaved.
A brave civilian caught the battle from the southbound lanes on his cell phone and it was a literal massacre to witness.
The helicopter was shot down and exploded in a fireball onto the first two cop cars leading the chase. Once a wall of fire separated the GCPD from you and Joker’s getaway car, your goons opened fire and brutally murdered the rest of the fleet of police officers.
Batman tried to save the day but his tank suffered heavy structural damage from the RPGs and other arsenal fired at it.
The bat had no other choice but to flee the scene.
The authorities were severely outgunned and quickly outmanned by a few criminals. Jim Gordon was at the end of the chase and his face paled seeing the insignia painted on one of the 18 wheelers.
It was his cue to call out the immediate, fallback orders to his men. But it was already too late.
It had been decades since Jim Gordon had seen the haunting image of a cobra coiling around a bouquet of nightshade.
The Mors Atra Lux Syndicate. Their Latin translation meaning; death is a dark light. They were the deadliest gang in the east, dating back as far as the Great Roman Empire. And now their current leader was making their stand here in Gotham City by allying with The Joker.
The ominous air was palpable. This was the beginning to a very long bloodbath.
But it wasn’t that deep to you.
All you did was call in a favor the second you saw Joker landing himself into trouble during his heist. You were worried about his poor choice of a getaway vehicle right from the beginning. The school bus would help him blend in, but after separating from the yellow procession, he would be vulnerable.
And you couldn’t have been more correct. Through surveillance and radio, you watched Joker be apprehended. It was now or never, and you acted fast.
You called your uncle and exhausted your one-time favor to rescue Joker.
The consequences of your actions would sink in later. You didn’t care that asking for help was your Defacto swearing in ceremony into the gang. There was no way out once you got involved.
None of that mattered as you exited the highway and drove to the predetermined meet up spot. Joker had yet to stop yelling in your ear.
He was giving you a mouthful about the events that were unfolding around him. He too recognized the ancient gang’s insignia and its importance. The Mors Atra Lux Syndicate was the greatest active gang in the world and to have them as an ally was legendary.
His mind was still reeling to discover his Bunny was affiliated!
You screamed whenever there was a bug in the apartment. He shielded you from his own organization due to your intolerance to violence. That’s the Y/n he thought he knew.
His Light wasn’t pure as he thought.
That much was evident when you pulled into an abandoned junk yard, turned off the car, and faced him. “SHUT UP, J! Just.... be quiet, I can’t hear myself think!!” You closed your eyes as Joker stared at you in horror.
You were mumbling to yourself with an eerie smile on your face. Whatever you were discussing was resolved for you quickly composed yourself and grabbed the keys to unlock his handcuffs.
You joined him in the backseat and without hesitation, you grabbed Joker by the neck to kiss him.
He wished it was the interaction mutual but the shock factor of discovering your dark side was hindering his ability to function properly. Just how deep was your affiliation? Should he be intimidated or aroused?
You caught onto Joker’s wary demeanor.
You smoothed down his wind tossed hair, “I’m sorry baby, I’ll explain m-more later but right now? We need to get you somewhere safe.” Your attention wavered after hearing a car door close.
Joker sputtered seeing you pull a gun from your waistline. It even had a silencer on it, he was impressed!
Thankfully you didn’t need it, yet he knew you were a seasoned warrior based on your stance. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had nothing but murder on the mind and a steady hand.
You recognized your first cousin Flex approaching from his armored SUV and lowered your weapon.
“Bella.” He nodded at you before giving Joker the up down. He wouldn’t judge your choice of a partner. “We’ll take care of him from here.” Flex noted.
Joker was positively mind blown. He waited until you freed his hands to ask. “Uhhhh.. Bella? Is that your err real name, Y/n?”
You and Flex snorted. You hugged your cousin and whispered something in his ear as Joker looked on, growing more and more annoyed by the second.
Finally, you replied to J’s question. “No. Its an honorific in our Syndicate. Flex will take you to your hideout. Don’t. Kill. Him. I won’t be able to save you if you anger the order. I’ll see you at home for dinner, okay J?”
You kissed him one more time and smoothed out his suit, as if you didn’t pull off a highly dangerous recovery mission to free him.
Joker’s head was spinning as you urged him to follow Flex back to the car. Nothing made sense. Everything Joker thought he knew about you was apparently a lie.
You were already destroying the cruiser’s license plate and removing your wig to revert back to your harmless civilian look. You fluffed out your natural curls and then proceeded to coat the cop car in gasoline. The fire started inside the vehicle as Flex cranked up his SUV.
Joker watched you stay behind, staring at the growing flames with that eerie smile on your face. He was staring at a stranger. A devil in disguise. He thought he knew his soft-spoken Bunny.
Come to find out: he didn’t know you at all.
#thanks for the ask!#thank you for being patient#ledger joker x reader#ledger!joker#ledger!joker x reader#crazy!reader#joker x y/n#joker x black!reader#joker x reader#reader insert#black!fem!reader#ledger joker#heath joker#dark knight joker#cross posted on ao3#cross posted on wattpad#paint the town red#romance#ride or die#his lighthouse
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heeeeyy i saw that u write for steven…?
if you wanna- could u write a flustered/ blushing steven with a forward/ teasing reader. could be that they work together at the museum and are a couple on the dl cuz if donna found out she would fire one of you. but the reader keeps teasing steven and making it really hard for him to focus on his costumers. could end in him losing his patience and dragging the reader to the bathroom orr a broom closet? or maybe the reader corners him??👀 idk you can obvs decide how far this could go (fluff/ lime/ lemon) whatevs- entirely up to you👹✨
thanks so muuuuuch ur a really great writer💗💗
hiii!! I absolutely love this!? and anything like this tbh🤭 and omg stop it, thank you sm!! <33 🥹 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
interrupted break
steven grant x fem!reader
wc || 655
warnings || a little suggestive, but no ‘vulgar’ words used, just making out
・₊✧ masterlist + taglist
You and Steven were in the early stages of your relationship, so things were still very new and exciting. As you worked together at the museum, you had to be wary and careful around one another. Donna had a strict 'no dating policy', so if she were to catch you together during a moment, one of you would be reprimanded or even fired.
Recently, you couldn't keep your hands off Steven. You found any possible opportunity to touch or stroke him. You'd always be sly when engaging in contact- a light brush on his arm as you walk by, lingering touches, eye contact from across the room, just anything you can do without being caught.
Steven knew the game behind your constant teasing and flirting, and he was determined not to give in to your ways. He loves his job, as you do yours, so he had to carry the strength for both of you and resist the temptation, even though it was hard.
You were stocking shelves while Steven was on tills and attending to customers. You peek up at him, gazing at him over the stuffed hippos with a devilish glimmer in your eye. You place down the box of keyrings and pick up the new stock of pens and pencils before making your way to Steven.
"Oh hey," you subtly smirk, pulling out a fistful of stationery. "Fancy seeing you here,"
"Yup," he nods, avoiding your gaze as he knows that he wouldn't be able to refuse your allure. "Gotta get back to my customers now," he says quietly, gesturing to the non-existent queue.
"Oh really? It seems like you're avoiding me," you smile, furtively leaning over the counter to allow him a sneak peek down your top, inconspicuously showing him your cleavage. His eye line focuses on your breasts sitting perfectly in your bra, and you see his failed attempts to conceal a reaction.
"Yeah, nice try," Steven sighs, covering his crotch with his hands. "Good one,"
"Hm, seems like you're lying, Steven," you grin, resting your chin in your palm.
"Nope. I know your silly games,"
"Silly?"
"Mhm," he nods, making himself look busy as he flicks through items by the cash register. "I'm not a teenage boy anymore,"
"Okay, I'll drop it," you shrug, playing with a stray strand of hair. "What time do you get off?" you whisper, stroking his forearm, battering your lashes up at him.
"God," he exhales, visibly frustrated. "Come with me,"
You follow him towards the staff bathroom, leaving an unsuspicious gap as you walk after him. Steven checks the surroundings before yanking you into the stall, closing the door behind you, and immediately pushing you up against it. His lips brush over yours, and you instantly feel his pent-up frustrations melt away.
His lips hungrily work over yours as his hands cup and guide you, holding your jaw to manoeuvre you in the way he wants, like he's desperately trying to regain control after all your teasing. A soft moan slips past your lips as he deepens the kiss, working over your mouth more urgently, pushing you back into the door behind.
A harsh knock interrupts. "Stevie, what you doing in there?" Donna snaps, pounding on the door. "Taking forever— you have customers waiting,"
Steven pulls away, clearing his throat. "Yeah— yep, I know. Just a minute," he says with a slightly raised voice.
"What's taking so long? Having a poo or something?"
Your eyes instantly snap up to Steven's as you conceal a cackle, muffling your mouth with your palm.
"... yeah," he says reluctantly, an unamused expression on his face.
"Distugting, hurry up— and wash your hands,"
"Alright, yep— okay," he whispers, dropping his forehead into the crook of your neck. "That was so embarrassing,"
"For you, yeah— very," you snicker.
"We'll finish this at mine," Steven smiles, adjusting himself. "... for payback." he merely brushes your lips before walking out.
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
steven taglist: @thewinterv @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @queerponcho @selfryed @ugh09876554444
#steven grant#steven grant imagine#steven grant fanfiction#steven grant x reader#steven grant drabble#steven grant x fem!reader#steven grant x you#moon boys#moon knight
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How did daddy Bucky x princess meet?🥰🥺
I think this is my Magnum Opus 🤭 it's mega long so forgive me but I just have a lot of feelings when it comes to Daddy Bucky and Princess 🩷
I'd love to hear your thoughts, feedback and obviously do keep sending me asks and ideas because I could write for these two for the rest of my life
Also a huge thanks to @mandijo17 and @clara-geekhime specifically, but to all of you who love them 🌷
- So I think it's a sure thing that when they met you, (Princess) were working at a really boring, horrible office job.
- You took the job at Peirce Enterprises because it was a chance to be creative and use your artistic skills, but as time went on it was becoming more strict, the workloads were humungous and all your colleagues were just plain mean.
- Most of the time you could hide at your little cubicle and get on with your work without being bothered, but sometimes mean guys would come around and steal your little plushies, move your stuff and leer at you.
- When you had to go to meetings the boss would shout, making you nervous as hell, so when you were called upon, you would stutter and struggle to speak.
- That just made everything so much worse.
✨
- One afternoon it was really bad. Mr Peirce had a big business meeting with Bucky Barnes.
- Everyone knew who he was.
- He owned almost all the real estate in Brooklyn, had fancy hotels, nightclubs, restaurants and god knows what else in his portfolio.
- He was also absolutely gorgeous, not that you were looking....
- So anyway, it was a big fucking deal and your work, some of your absolute best, was on display.
- "This is trash!" Pierce yelled and threw the paperwork at you knocking over your tea in the process.
- "What's your excuse?" He continued as your work soaked up the brown liquid and your eyes began to sting.
- "I...I...um, I thought..."
- He mocks your struggle and scoffs. "Get the hell out of my office...."
- Jumping out of your seat you run to the door, tears streaming down your face as you flee to your desk.
✨
- Not long after your colleagues drop by, saying it's all your fault they have to stay late and do more work. "Cost us our fucking bonus you dumbass" one of them says.
- Under the desk you squeeze at your little plushie, before dashing off to the supply cupboard.
- A few moments later there is a knock at the door. Before you can say anything it opens, and to your total shock, there is Bucky Barnes.
- He smiles, a kind smile but it's like he's holding his tongue.
- "This is a nice supply cupboard..." He comes in a bit further and hands you a handkerchief. "I fucking love stationery, nothing like a new notepad, or a y'know when you get a really good pen? And don't get me started on laminators... fuck those things are cool..."
- Before you can stop yourself you start giggling, hiccuping as he looks back at you and smiles more openly than before.
- He walks you back to your desk, admiring your cubicle, pointing out the pretty drawings and giving your little teddy a squeeze before placing it carefully on your desk.
- "Listen, I really loved your work. I thought it was excellent. If you want a change of scenery, let me know and I'd be happy to find a place for you in my organisation."
- He hands you a business card before giving you a wink and leaving. He shoots glares of death to all your co workers who are staring totally bemused at what they've just witnessed.
✨
- About a month later you are sitting at your desk and a parcel is dropped off by the moody receptionist.
- You sit confused for a moment before your curiosity peaks and you tear into the parcel.
- It's full of the most amazing things. A new iPad, apple pen stylus, notepads, pens, a fluffy pencil case and a little bunny teddy. It's an explosion of pink and you can't help tap your feet in excitement at this mystery parcel.
- Then your phone rings.
- It's Bucky's number.
- You know that because you have put his business card on your desk and memorised the number and each letter of his name until you know it by heart.
- "Hello?" You say quietly and look around, making sure no one can hear.
- "Did you get my parcel?" His rumbly voice tickles your ear, and you imagine him whispering just behind you. Your feet keep bouncing.
- "It's from you? Why?"
- "Well I thought maybe it might convince you to up sticks and work somewhere you are appreciated?"
- You smile and play with the ears of the bunny, "and what made you think I'd like this particular sort of thing?"
- "Just a hunch Princess..."
- Well that was nice. You struggle to breath a little but manage to pull it together for a sort of half laugh.
- "There is a condition though. You can only keep that stuff if you come for an interview. Otherwise I'm going to need it back..."
- Just then your boss storms through the office, eyes on you. You quickly say goodbye before he unleashes a tirade on your team. You manage to hide your parcel as he rants and raves, feeling oddly soothed by the soft bunny ear running between your fingers.
✨
- You knock on the door of Bucky's office later that day. You have the box in your arms and your backpack weighing on your shoulders.
- He let's you in with a smile which drops when he sees the box in your arms.
- "Don't tell me you're bringing that back?" He says incredulously as you softly smile and place it on his desk.
- The office is light and spacious, expensive furniture everywhere, a plush couch and of course a statement desk that you imagine he looks quite imposing sitting behind.
- "I was offered a better job today. I just don't feel right taking your gifts when it makes sense to stay there right? I'm sure once I'm in control of things, it will get better?"
- You seem to be asking him, rather than telling him and despite his downcast face, he doesn't press it.
- He flicks the lid open and peruses the contents, before clicking his tongue and raising an eyebrow.
- "Hmm I thought there was a bunny in here?"
- You face flushes and you even feel yourself pout. "I didn't think... I mean it's..."
- He grins, boyish delight on his face as he holds out his hand.
- "C'mon, it belongs here, not in that place."
- You control the urge to stamp your foot and have a total temper tantrum, which is totally not how you would ever behave in front of anyone. There's even a little scowl on your face as you hand it over and and takes it in his arms.
- You feel jealous of both of them before staying a firmer goodbye and leave, but not before his chuckles reach your ears and make you smile.
✨
- Monday morning you make your way into your new office. It's pretty bare but you gasp when you see the bunny sitting on the desk, a little note wishing you "Good luck x" in it's arms.
- You kiss its head and beam as you start unpacking, feeling lighter than air.
- Maybe you couldn't work for Bucky anyway. It wouldn't be good to have a crush on your boss?
- You finish sorting everything out and get to work, making sure Bucky's card is back on your desktop.
- Then an email dings up and you are called to a meeting. 2 hours!! It should be illegal. You give your bunny a squeeze before heading off.
✨
- You were feeling exhausted from the meeting when you came back to your office. Everyone in the area was quiet for a change. No snarky comments, no cruel joke.
- But you soon realised why.
- Opening the door of your office you found it trashed. Paper everywhere, screen scratched, books ripped and nasty words carved in the wood of your desk.
- Worst of all, the head of your bunny left sadisticly on your chair.
- It was too much. All the pain and awfulness you had taken on in the last year was too much.
- You had never done anything to them and they just continuously bullied you and made your life miserable.
- Looking around the room you felt utter dispair until you saw Bucky's card, ripped in half.
- Grabbing your bag you walked out of the room and didn't stop until you reached the lift. They shouted something at you but you didn't care. You couldn't take on any more of their hate.
- You walked through the city in a blur. Tears streamed down your face but you just kept walking and walking until you were there. You'd walked all the way to Bucky's building.
- The security desk looked quite disturbed to see you so emotional but you asked for Bucky and they pointed towards the lifts and made your way up.
- In that moment you wondered what the hell you were doing? Why were you in the lift?? Heading closer to his office looking like an absolute lunatic??
- Before you could stop them the doors slid open and there he was waiting. Without saying a word he pulled you out of the lift and into his arms.
- The dam broke fully and you sobbed into his chest. You managed to wail something about the bunny, your office, how mean they were...
- He managed to walk you into his office and sat on the comfy sofa and held you tight until you finally took a shaky breath and stopped crying.
- "Why are people so mean?" You whisper as he wipes the last few tears from your cheek before taking your hand in his.
- "I'm so sorry sweetie. You don't deserve that..."
- You feel so exhausted that when he takes you back in his arms and gently strokes your hair you just release a deep breath and slip into sleep.
✨
- A little while later you wake up, a soft blanket over you and you mumble a quiet 'hello?' as you sit up.
- "Hey, are you feeling ok? I got us some dinner I was worried you hadn't eaten all day..."
- You feel mortified but he shushes your apologies and puts a plate down in front of you.
- "Be a good girl and eat" he says smiling and you can't help but tuck in as your hunger (and praise kink) kicks in.
- You both sit comfortably, talking about various things, avoiding the reason for your arrival, keeping it light.
- Still, you find yourself unable to be sad around him. He makes you feel so safe and happy. It's addictive.
- He drops you home a few hours later, walking you right to the door, his hand resting on your arm, keeping you close.
- "So maybe I can come in for an interview in the end?" You say, feeling awkward but ultimately worried about what you are going to do now you can't go back to your actual job.
- He chuckles and takes your hand in his. "Do me a favour, don't worry about it. Will you let me figure something out for you?"
- He pulls you in a little closer and looks down at you, a cocky grin on his face.
- "Umm well, I worry about a lot of things Bucky... How can I not?"
- He rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead.
- "Because Princess, you can trust me..."
- Speechless, you nod before planting a rushed kiss to his chin/cheek before speeding into your apartment.
✨
- Then next few days are filled with texts, flowers, phonecalls and gifts from Bucky.
- You can't help the huge grin that spreads across your face when something from him appears, or his name lights up your phone screen.
- "Hi Bucky" you say one morning as he calls first thing. You roll over in bed and squeeze the huge bunny he sent you the day before.
- "Good mornin', tell me what you're doing today?" He says with slight growl as you snuggle down deeper under the covers and giggle.
- "Umm I don't know, maybe you should tell me?" You tease, biting your lip and listen to his deep chuckle.
- "Well first off, you are coming here for that interview, and then I'm taking you out to dinner to celebrate you're new job..."
- You giggle again and huff at his silliness. "Bucky that's cheating! I would feel bad if I didn't deserve it..."
- He tuts at the other end of the line and tells you, if you aren't there at midday you were going to have your first disciplinary.
- You were intrigued by that but you figured you better get moving.
✨
- You showed up on time, dressed in a pretty dress, your portfolio of artwork in your arms and a smile on your face.
- Bucky's secretary greeted you with a big smile and even hugged you when you arrived.
- "Hi I'm Wanda, I feel like I know you already! Go straight in, he's waiting for you!"
- You smiled, feeling flustered as she ushered you into the room where he is indeed waiting for you, his crisp shirt and checkered pants looking divine, his hair slicked back into a bun. It almost makes you drop your folders but you manage to hold on and plop them onto the desk before taking a seat across from him.
- The 'interview' goes well. He asks for your work history, where did you study and what you want to achieve.
- It was silly really. But you actually enjoyed it. You did have a big brain in your pretty head and it was nice to talk positively about yourself and not fear mocking, snarky comments.
- After an hour he smiled and stood up, reaching for your hand so you mirroed him and he shook your hand.
- "Welcome aboard darlin' now let's go celebrate."
✨
- Hours later you were back in Bucky's office, a little tipsy and full of delicious food.
- He had taken you to one of his restaurants, one of the fanciest in town and both of you had gotten a little drunk on champagne and each other.
- You had insisted that a part of your interview had not been completed, so you headed back to the office, giggling all the way up in the lift.
- Back in his office you 'ah-hahd' as your portfolio sat on the desk untouched. "You haven't seen my work properly Bucky."
- He looks at you a lot more hungrily than he ever has before as you beckon him over and push him into his seat before placing yourself on his lap and opening your book.
- "See now look at this one" you say as his hands drift over your thighs and rub small circles into your skin. He hums as you turn the page and show him another, this time his lips press to your bare shoulder. "Very pretty" he murmers as you turn again.
- Suddenly his hands glide up your body and you drop the book, turning in his lap and crashing your lips to his waiting ones.
- He wastes no time lifting you up onto the desk and gripping your face before dragging you into a crazed kiss.
- You are moaning in moments as you help him push off his suit jacket and watch hungrily as he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing his tanned, toned chest.
- He leans in and captures your lips again as your hands drift over his body and his hands push your dress upwards and pulling your underwear down, stopping for a moment and breaking the kiss.
- "You gonna let me see you Princess? Let me take care of you?"
- Wrapping your arms around his neck you bite at his lip and nod, doe eyes staring up at him.
- "Please... Please Bucky..."
- He pushes you down slowly and removes your underwear with a firm rip making you gasp and moan as his hot breath fans over your folds.
- "Fucking.... So pretty baby, knew you would be" he growls before diving in, licking and sucking at your soaked folds, one hand pushing your thighs wider as the other toyed with your entrance, eliciting a loan moan of pleasure when he sank his finger in and curled it towards him.
- He teased you and drove you closer to the edge until he pulled back, dragging you upwards and planting a kiss to your lips as he presses his thick cock to your pussy.
- "You taste so sweet princess but I wanna feel you... You want that babygirl?" You can only nod and reach between you, guiding him to you.
- "Please... Da... Bucky need you..." You stutter and he can't help but pause, a sly grin on his face.
- "What did you say baby? Were you thinking about someone else?" He's smiling like the devil because either the truth will be delightful or the lie will be ridiculous.
- You shake your head and grab for his face, pressing kisses to his lips.
- "No, no, didn't mean, da- um Bucky please, please just.... Fuck, fuck me please da- shit Bucky please??"
- He fully laughs at that before resting his forehead against yours, slipping his hands under your thighs and lifting you, until he's seated and you are straddling him, his thick perfect cock just pressed against your soaked heat.
- "Princess, you aren't a very good liar" he says and rubs his nails along your sensitive skin. "Just say it baby... Say what you wanna say to me when I'm fucking that pretty little pussy...."
- He lines himself up as you whimper, chewing your lip before you lean in and whisper it, so quiet as if someone else in the world might hear it.
- "Daddy.... Please?"
#daddy!bucky#princess!reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky imagine#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut
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Starboy
● PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
● SUMMARY: When on one day Mr. Bateman came to your office, you never knew how far it could go.
● WARNINGS: Implied flirt, seduction, small innocent touches, sweet-talker Patrick Bateman himself, minor possessive behaviour.
● WORDCOUNT: 2.6k
● A/N: One more prequel about Patrick and his little Cupcake, I enjoy writing their backstory so much! Btw, I was inspired by this American Psycho edit. As always, I hope you like this chapter!💕
● SONG REC: The Weeknd - Starboy✨
● LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]
The days after that “little accident” with Mr. Bateman felt like a horrible nightmare.
You were constantly thinking about losing your job, strolling around your office and watching the sun's rays breaking through the window. What if you just stayed silent and let him ground you into the dirt, soaking up all the shit he was saying–would your boss be satisfied with you then?
The click of the door opening caught your attention before Cindy’s sonorous voice reached your ear. “(Y/N), we should go get coffee! Our favorite barista finally came back. Woohoo, no more shitty coffee!”
With a dull smile on your face, you tapped the papers on your desk. “I need to finish this by the afternoon.” You looked over the documents again, and then sighed. “Just go without me.”
She whined, disappointment clear in her voice, and when you looked at her, she was already standing in the doorway, checking the time on her watch. “I’ll just rush, so our coffee won’t get cold. Do you want a latte or cappuccino?”
“Dealer’s choice,” you chuckled and took your place at the deck. “Just… Don't spill it… Okay?”
“Alright, alright…”
Then she walked away, leaving you alone in your office again. Back to work.
Leafing through the documents was a kind of meditation for you–it helped soothe your mind, distracting you from obsessive thoughts.
Your edits were quick, slashing across the page, adding notes in the margin with a well-loved red pen. The door opened again. “What did you forget this time?” you asked, not looking up. “Cindy, could you also bring me a cupcake–”
“Good afternoon.” A familiar, tenor voice caused your whole body to taut like a string. You knew who it was before you even looked up.
Ever hauntingly perfect, Patrick Bateman was standing in the doorway, casting a studying glance at you. You stood up abruptly, anticipating nothing but the worst. He might really be so vindictive to come in person with your termination notice.
“(Y/N), isn’t it?” he asked smoothly, closing the door behind him.
“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, attempting to sound as confident as you could. “How can I help you, sir?”
“First, call me Patrick,” he gave you his most cocky snow-white smile, roaming around your office and getting closer to your desk. “And please, relax. I’m not here to fire you.”
The corners of your mouth twitched slightly, but that didn’t really ease the tension. His presence here was making you feel weirdly thrilled.
"As you wish, sir, but I’m afraid that a first-name basis breaks the subordination rules of our company,” you pressed the pen against the tabletop, leaning a bit on your other hand. “Penalties are strictly enforced for things like that.”
Amused, Bateman was standing in front of your table, so the smell of his cologne easily hit your nose. “Our previous meeting was… Well, it was horrible as hell,” he said, watching you nervously rap the pen. “I just want to apologize, and I hope you’ll let me take you to lunch, at least.”
With a sharp click, your pen flew away in an unknown direction, but you just ignored that, continuing to act naturally. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I usually don’t have time to eat, 'cause I’m pretty busy and–” you stammered a bit as only now you noticed you were looking into each other's eyes for over thirty seconds straight.
“‘And’?”
“My boss won’t be happy if I don’t have these reviews done by–”
“Wait a second.” Patrick held up a finger to stop you before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m your boss, sweetie.”
Gulping, you had no choice but to turn your face into a friendly expression and grin politely. “With all respect, sir, you’re the boss of my boss. And, I really need to finish these.”
Patrick huffed as he stared at you, his hazel eyes spinning with green and brown, until they were a hypnotizing spiral that sucked you in. “Okay, I think I get it.” He shook his head, smirking all the time from how timidly you were batting your eyelashes. “Now listen (Y/N), in two hours I will be at Four Seasons, the one down here,” he quickly checked his Rolex, and then glanced at you again. “I’ll be waiting for you there. Don’t be late.”
As if he didn’t want to give you a chance to refuse, Bateman turned around and left your office. The silence filled up your ears after the door closed. Your chest was rising and falling so quickly; you couldn’t really believe what just happened. Biting your lower lip, you thoughtfully slid your hand against the tabletop–a creeping panic was growing in your gut, making it hard for you to breathe.
When Cindy returned fifteen minutes later, you didn’t say even a word about what had happened just before she came back, because it would sound completely absurd. And considering her previous reaction to what you told her about Mr. Bateman, she would probably burn with envy. But there was one more problem–how to sneak out from the office without anyone asking questions?
“Erm, Cindy…I’m going on a quick break,” you mumbled as you got up to grab your coat.
“Wait, wait! Where are you going?”
“It’s nothing interesting,” smiling sheepishly, you wrapped a woolen scarf around your neck. “Oh, did I thank you for the coffee? It was really nice!”
“Hey! Stop messing around!” she protested, standing up from her seat, with arms crossed. “You usually don’t go anywhere for ‘breaks’!”
Sighing, you took your bag and glanced at your watch. Plenty of time. “I’ll tell you when I get back, okay?” a small bluff wouldn't be an issue–you concluded, watching Cindy sadly pouting. “One of our colleagues asked me for lunch, that’s all, you know. Nothing special…”
“And who’s this cutie pie? Ah, don’t tell me, I think I know who it is!” She clapped her hands, and her voice trilled with excitement. “If you say that it’s that nerd from our computer department, I’m gonna die!”
Humming, you gave yourself a few seconds to think before replying: “Yes, it’s him.”
“Eeeee!” she giggled, shushing herself with a palm. “Oh, my gosh, poor ‘Romeo’ finally made a step!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chided, holding out your hands to soothe her. “I don’t have much time, and I still need to find the place where we’re having lunch. So, see you later… Oh, and Cindy, if the boss calls, please tell her I’m out for some office supplies.”
On that bright note, you left your office, with mysterious excitement.
It was your first time at Four Seasons, though you heard a lot of positive reviews about this place from the top management of P & P. Once you made just one step inside the restaurant, you met at least three or four good-looking females, all dressed with expensive clothes and jewelry. After a quick examination of yourself, you had to admit—your office uniform was looking unsuitable for this kind of an establishment, but who would care? If one arrogant snob didn’t force you to come here, all restaurant visitors wouldn't have to suffer from your “super luxury look”—you giggled sarcastically to yourself before you approached the maître d' — a young blond lady with a very deep neckline. As soon as she noticed you, she gave you a suspiciously friendly smile and greeted you:
“Good afternoon, Miss and welcome to the Four Seasons. My name is Veronica. How can I help you?”
“Oh, hello!” you smiled back. “There should be a reservation under Mr. Bateman.”
The last words you said made her face change literally before your eyes and now it was not as friendly as one minute ago. “Let me check please,” she was sorting through the pages of the logbook, looking at you from time to time from under her long lashes. “Please, follow me.”
The closer you were getting to the table, the more you felt an uprising fear in your chest and you couldn’t really understand what was really scaring you that much: him, this fancy place, or all of these things together. Wrapped in your thoughts, you didn’t even notice you had already reached the place as the maître d' extended her hand, inviting you to take the seat just across from Patrick, who at that moment was studying the menu, with his face half covered by it.
“Have a good time!” The blonde glanced at you contemptuously for the last time before she strolled away.
“Thanks…” You replied to no one, nervously undoing your scarf.
“Glad to see you again, sit down.” Bateman murmured, putting the menu aside, his brown eyes were exploring your frame like a scanner.
“I hope I am not late.”
“No, you are just in time,” he smirked as you finally sat in front of him, your hands nervously fixing the sleeves of your white blouse. “What do you usually prefer to drink? Tea, water, maybe coffee?”
“I had enough coffee today, but thank you,” you looked at him more confidently, as your strategy for this lunch was pretty simple–be nice, friendly, and polite. “This place is so lovely!”
“You think so?”
“Uh, yes. Well, I’m not the type of person who goes on lunch to such places,” you paused as you noticed how attentively he was listening to you, raising his right eyebrow. “So, I don't know what to compare it to, but this one looks exquisite.”
You heard him chuckling softly before Bateman took a sip of his whiskey, pointing at the menu with his stare. “Choose what you want to eat.”
With a warm grin on your face, you took the menu but once you saw the prices–you felt your hair standing on edge. “You know, I’m not really hungry.”
“Stop pretending, sweetie,” damn, did he call you like that again? “If you were not hungry you wouldn’t ask your friend to bring you a cupcake, right?”
Stunned by his sudden trick, you hid behind the menu for a second to reflect on what to answer him back. “You have a significant memory, Mr. Bateman.”
“It’s Patrick,” he smiled at you flirtatiously while his piercing gaze seemed trying to catch any little weaknesses of yours. “As you should know, my type of work requires such things.”
“Of course.” You nodded.
“And… I really prefer you to call me Patrick, but on the other hand, the way you say ‘Mr. Bateman’ sounds kinda hot.”
You nearly let out a nervous laugh but you held back yourself as you gave him a confused look.
Unlike you, Bateman couldn’t help but snigger at your reaction. “Relax, silly. I’m joking.”
“That's what I thought…” You were acting as if nothing happened, desperately trying to suppress an unknown frisson inside your body.
Then, a tall dark-haired waiter got your attention as he came across your table, with a notebook in his hands. “Are you ready to order, sir?”
“Beef Steak with Grilled Vegetables and Sweet Potatoes,” Patrick pointed with a finger, forcing his golden Rolex to wiggle on his wrist. “(Y/N), did you make your choice?”
“To be honest, I’d rather eat something sweet,” you glimpsed at the waiter with hope, because you didn’t even see the dessert menu. “Maybe you can recommend something to me?”
“We have amazing cheesecakes and tiramisu-”
“A dessert for lunch?” Bateman asked in surprise, cutting off the waiter and leaving you a bit embarrassed. “I think Sweet Pea and Tuna Salad sounds better,” he waited for the busboy to take away the menu and then added: “It’s healthier, and it tastes delicious. You are gonna like it.”
Confused, you watched the waiter walking away when you suddenly blurted out: “Actually, you could make an order without asking-”
“I could, but I wanted to give you a chance,” the way he kept interrupting everyone was really pissing you off. “So, how long have you been working in our company? Cause I can’t really remember you,” frowning a bit, he leaned on the back of his chair. “You must be a new one?”
With a cunning smirk, you took a glass of mineral water that was already standing on the table. “Well, you can say that,” you smiled again before continuing: “I’ve been working as an accountant in Pierce & Pierce for two years already.”
Satisfied with how awkward he was looking right now, you made a victorious sip of water, waiting for his next step.
“Two years… Huh, that’s a lot!”
“Yes, but it’s fine we never met,” you stated, meeting his languid gaze more decisively. “Usually, top management doesn’t see any of its workers and it’s okay.”
Bateman nodded, humming something to himself as if the puzzle inside his head finally completed. “Mm-hm, I hope you’re happy with your job and you don’t feel overworked.”
Was it some kind of test? As much as you wanted to lament about all of your grievances, you couldn’t take any risks–how could you even trust the guy who first antagonized you and then asked you out for lunch… in Four Fucking Seasons. That was so weird.
“I love everything about my work. But of course, it’s not perfect but nowhere is.” You replied confidently.
“Don’t you mind if I smoke?” Before Bateman asked, he was already having a cigar in his hand.
Even if you did, what would you say?
“Go on.”
And then you suddenly lost it, as you watched him lighting his cigar after your words, and you could swear to God–never in your life, you saw a man who was smoking sexier than that. Mesmerized, you couldn't take your eyes off of his beautiful features, especially his ideal cheekbones, which looked so sharp–you thought you could cut yourself if you touch them… Touch them?
Meanwhile, Patrick was definitely rambling about something, but you could only see how his perfectly shaped lips curled whenever he was speaking, and damn… His side profile seemed to be forged by a sculptor, as you didn’t really have any other explanations for how this man could be so fine… Wait, what were you even thinking?
“(Y/N), are you listening?” His concerned voice took you out of your thoughts.
“Oh, yes… Sorry! I just remembered about my report, which I should finish today and-”
“So, you’re really overworked if you can’t even stop thinking about your job while being here with me.”
Did he sound really offended, or it was just your slightly clouded mind–you couldn’t really find an answer as he added:
“Maybe I should speak with your boss about this?” he puffed on his cigar, giving you a challenging glance. “And guess what? I think we should have dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“That’s exactly what I said,” smirking, Bateman blew some smoke rings, his dark eyes glowing with excitement. “Dinner, where we can chill a bit and have a proper conversation. Not like this.”
Just as you were about to reply, the waiter brought your meals, how unfortunate–you thought before taking a napkin, and of course, you touched his palm because Patrick was doing just the same thing. As if you were in some romance movie, you took your hand away like from fire, but that only spurred him to catch your palm again, stroking it nearly notably, and somehow, this time you didn’t even make a move—you only gasped. Rising your eyes on him, you could only see a devilish grin of satisfaction on his face and there was nothing really left for you to do, rather than ask yourself if that was really happening.
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader
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Distractions.
((A/N: Hello, I'm new here. Dis my first smut. I don't know how to do proper TW sorry 😞 // {This contains Levi eating you out}// I would love some teaching.))
✨M D N I✨ (I know that one 🫡)
Feeling his tongue prodding my clit made me jump a little. It had me biting into my lower lip as a soft gasp fell from my mouth.
"Focus Y/n..." Levi mumbled, his lips wrapping around my bundle of nerves, sucking ever so gently.
"I-I'm trying..." I hissed, my eyes glancing down to see Levi's grey eyes looking back into mine. He looked so pretty underneath my desk with his tongue lazily lapping at my folds. I felt my grip tighten on my pen, and I took a sharp inhale. Levi chuckled once more. "Good girl," he praised, "You need to keep focus no matter the distraction."
I feebly nodded my head and took another deep breath, sitting forward a little, inadvertently, bucking my hips against his face. I tried to focus on the task at hand, which was some simple mission reports. Levi moved to wrap his hands around my thighs, pushing my legs open, allowing himself better access to my pussy.
I felt my hand shaking as I tried to recall how to spell Levi's last name and his tongue dipping once more into my folds was the reason I couldn't keep focus. I let out a soft moan, as I resisted the urge to reach down and pull his face closer into my cunt. I could feel my slick dripping down into the chair beneath me- and I couldn't stop glancing down at him.
Each time our eyes met, he'd smile innocently at me, as if he wasn't licking my pussy in the middle of the day, while at work. He looked so fucking hot down there, on his knees for me, tasting my most precious of places. There was a soft but lewd, sopping sound the filled the little office along with my occasional whimper of pleasure.
I felt a bit dumb though because I for the life of me couldn't remember how to spell his last name.
*A...C...K...*
My mind raced trying to remember how to correctly spell 'Ackerman'. I knew if I asked Levi, he'd chastise me and stop what he was doing and it felt way to good to even fathom the idea.
Just then his warm tongue rolled over my clit once more sending a wave of pleasure to wash over me and I bit my lip harder, trying to swallow the needy whine that desperately wanted to escape my throat.
Fuck.
He was too damn good at this.
"I...don't hear...writing..." Levi mumbled into my pussy lazily almost with a dreamy tone, as his tongue dipped down, entering my hole, in a slow rhythmic motion. The dirty sounds of my slick being pressed back into me were ever present and even more distracting. My legs started shaking in anticipation. I took another shaky breath and tried again to remember how to spell his damn last name.
"C-can't focus s-sir...." I eventually relented and I let my body relax into the chair, I was so close to cumming. Levi had went back to licking my clit with long hard strokes of his tongue that applied the right amount of pressure making my stomach tingle with the feeling of release.
Levi looked up at me, and pulled his face from between my thighs. Immediately ceasing all movement and I let out a frustrated groan. I was so close. The smirk on his face was devilishly sexy. I could see my wetness coating his lips and chin. He swiped his tongue across his lips before he took a sharp inhale. "What's the matter? I thought you told me you could handle any distractions thrown your way?"
(Sssoooo, how did I do?)
#levi ackerman smut#aot x reader#levi ackerman#levi smut#first post#first post on tumblr#be nice#levi x reader#smut writer#aot smut#captain levi#oof#mdni
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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 25th: Songwriting | Snuff - Slipknot | Melancholy
a/n: established steddie, angst resolved quickly with fluff. excerpt and new outtake from over the hills and far away! I think it makes sense without reading the whole thing, but it is my favorite thing I've ever written so feel free to read the whole thing if you feel so inclined ✨
read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist
October 1987
Eddie’s pen runs out of ink and he chucks it across the room, clattering off the walls with a loud clang before falling to the ground. Everything he writes is wrong because everything he writes is Steve, or Hawkins, or Chrissy, or some other version of his past that cuts him too close to the bone.
Chicago has been good to him over the past year— his apprenticeship turns into a job, his apartment isn’t a total shithole, he’s met decent people, he’s even forced himself on a couple of (albeit dead-end) dates— so there’s no reason that he should be sitting on the floor of his living room with pages and pages torn out of this notebook because they aren't right. But there he is.
Crumpled up pieces of paper surround his outstretched legs, and his joint is almost kicked, and his beer has been warm for almost an hour. Slayer plays at a low volume in the background and while he knows that’s now how it’s meant to be played, he really doesn’t want to deal with another noise complaint. Eddie lets his head lean backwards over the couch cushions and shifts to sit up straighter, his back now pressed against the front of the thrifted piece.
Hands in his hair, like always. It’s a tell he’s noticed about himself and he wonders briefly if he’s done this his entire life, if he’s been so obvious with his discomfort in the company of others?
Maybe that’s why—
He cuts the thought off at the pass and brings his fists down to the floor before grabbing his shitty warm beer from the coffee table and pressing it to his lips. Warm beer is better than no beer, he thinks, at least when being tormented by my own stupid brain. It hits the back of his throat and he cringes.
Moments pass and he looks back down at the notebook, a fresh page full of potential, possibility, future. His hands search the drawer of a side table within reach and come up with a new pen. The plastic nearly cuts his lip as he pulls the cap off between his teeth and spits it somewhere to his left, bringing one shaky hand to the page.
The next song will be happy. I promise.
April 1990
Eddie sits alone in his apartment– their apartment, now– with his legs outstretched in front of him and his back against the cushions of the couch. It’s as though he’s gone back in time as he sits in a familiar position, the same notebook gifted to him by Steve all of those years ago open in his lap with the pen sitting in the middle of the pages. The last entry stares up at him, his own handwriting pressed deep into the pages.
The next song will be happy. I promise.
He hasn’t put pen to page in this notebook in years but life is strange and time is a flat circle. Somehow, he’s ended up right back in Steve’s arms except that this time, they aren’t broken. This time, they aren’t terrified. This time, it works.
So for months now, Eddie’s poured over the pages of this notebook and agonized over verses and choruses, bridges and metaphors. All of his thoughts are wrapped in writing this song, the one he’d promised Steve without him even knowing.
A song he hopes can convey what he’s feeling without making a true and complete ass of himself.
A song he’s probably never going to finish because his brain feels like cotton and his thoughts are too jumbled to become words, a ball of yarn wound too tight.
A song he wants to finally play for Steve.
It’s hard to fit four years of love, and longing, and brokenness, and rebuilding into just a series of four verses– one for each year– but he’s trying. He’s trying because Steve deserves it, and because Eddie needs it. So much time has already passed, and if he has to go one more day without telling Steve exactly how he feels, how he’s always felt, he’s going to implode in upon himself.
Three deep breaths, and he picks up his pen.
September 1990
Eddie plays Steve his song.
Later that night, cleaned up and comfortable, Eddie whips out his guitar. Steve hadn’t thought to question why he brought it– it just felt like an Eddie thing to do. But then he takes out the little notebook Steve gifted him so long ago, right here in the same living room, and Steve hazily puts two and two together.
The next song will be happy, I promise. And it is.
“You wrote me a song?” Steve says, incredulous and warm from the inside out.
“I did. Tried to, at least. Hold your excitement until it’s done and then we can decide if you want to claim it for yours.” Eddie teases and winks, pulling the guitar up into his lap.
He strums methodically as Steve watches his ringed fingers glide along the strings. Eddie’s voice sings words from his heart, torn free of their cages after so many years.
War made us corpses,
Let’s rise from the shallow graves, let’s watch the way time warps.
Hold these broken bones until they’re healed,
Hold them when they shake.
Sometimes it’s hard
To let you see me cracked and scarred.
Moonlight through the curtains and music on the stereo,
Just tell me all you say is true.
Love is a three letter word, sweetheart, and it’s you.
There are no words Steve can muster to respond, but he cries, and that says more than words ever could anyways.
[read the full fic here on ao3!]
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie month#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#myblurbs#eddie month prompts#over the hills and far away#song lyrics may or may not have been inspired by a song an ex wrote for me
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Breathe
word count: 461 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader
genre: comfort
warnings: uni stress
synopsis: you are having a medium meltdown about academics and your boyfriend comforts you
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Kita looked up from his book when your pen zoomed past him and hit the wall. It was exam season and as always it was everything but pleasant. In true student fashion you had only started your paper with three days left until the deadline. You had been trying to write all day but it wasn’t turning out anywhere close to your satisfaction - who would’ve thought. You knew what you would have to write, you knew how you wanted to make your point but you had no idea where to start.
“Ya okay there, sweetheart?”, your boyfriend asked. He had been keeping you company after getting home from work and you were happy about him being there, as that was normally enough to calm you down but today it just infuriated you more. He didn’t have to deal with uni stress. He didn’t have to think about student debt and stupid term papers.
You buried your face in your hands and groaned loudly. You took deep breaths, trying not to cry.
You heard a shuffling and the next minute, he was kneeling next to your chair.
“Hey, look at me.”, Kita said softly, pulling your hands in his. You look at him with tearfilled eyes and his heart pulled painfully at the sight.
“Ya can do this.” Even in his own ears that sounded hollow and he didn’t blame you for snorting in disbelief. He cupped your cheek and pulled you closer to lean his forehead against yours. “Breathe.”
You did as you were told. “I’m here. Breathe.” His words were barely more than a whisper, but the soothing tone of his voice gave you something to cling to and he wiped away your tears with his thumb as he repeated his mantra a few more times. You closed your eyes and silence fell.
For a long time you just sat there like this. Him on the floor, you in your chair, one hand of his gently squeezing yours, the other caressing your cheek reassuringly.
He paid close attention to every sound you made. When he was sure you had calmed down enough, he said quietly “I love ya.” and pressed the most delicate of kisses to your lips.
You sat up a little in your chair, looking at the man kneeling in front of you and wondered what you had done to deserve him. His warm smile made you feel safe.
He rose from the floor, still holding your hand and pulled slightly, bringing your soft form into his strong arms. With gentle fingers he combed through your hair and held you tighter, setting another kiss to your temple. “Come on, darlin’. I’m gonna make us some dinner and then we’ll snuggle up on the couch for a bit, hm?”
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✨ @rinnndoll 🫶🏻✨
#kita x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu comfort#chubby reader#kita shinsuke#kita x reader#haikyuu kita#kita fluff#hq kita#kita imagine#kita comfort#haikyuu x reader#hq comfort#kita shinsuke x reader#kita shinsuke x you#kita shinsuke x chubby reader#kita shinsuke x y/n
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My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! There is a summary of the first part, here, the second part, here, and the third part, here. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also now a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here!
Lou really flexes her incredible acting skills in this one. I guarantee you'll be impressed. We also get some teen content, if only just a little. Close readers who've also read my other work may also be rewarded with an accent-related detail that says something about another irritable country dyke in my lineup.
Read the update for free on my patreon & vote on what happens next!
Excerpt below the cut.
“Are you from like, Travertine, Devil’s Elbow, Cloverleaf way?” Artie asked, gesturing with three fingers to indicate the cluster of towns. They were barely towns, really, more like loosely grouped homes, farms, and rural industry that were large enough to each have their own shrine, pantry, schoolhouses, and Pony Express stations, but not much more.
“Yeah,” Lou said, surprised into letting the ‘curse’ talk lie. “How did you know?”
“Your accent,” she said.
“I don’t have an accent,” Lou said. She involuntarily covered her mouth with her hand. “Y’all have accents.”
“Wait, don’t tell me which one. Let me guess,” Artie said, excited. She pushed her hair out of her face and thought hard for a moment. “Okay. What does a bird lay?”
“An egg?” Lou said.
“‘Aig’,” Artie repeated.
“That’s— that's not what I sound like,” Lou protested.
Artie ignored her and continued. “The feeling when you wanna go to sleep?”
“Sleepy,” Lou said. She knew what Artie was trying to get her to say, but she didn’t want to play along anymore. Artie was having too much fun with it and Lou was beginning to feel cross-grained.
“Come on,” Artie said, looking over the top of her new, cursed sunglasses at her.
“Tired,” Lou said, begrudgingly.
“‘Tarred,’” Artie repeated.
“Okay, stop making fun of me,” Lou said. “I get it. I’m country as a turnip green.”
“I’m not making fun. I’m investigating,” she said. “Besides, I like it. Your accent. And I like turnip greens.”
Lou didn’t say anything, just lifted her hat, smoothed her sweaty hair back, and put it back on her head. They were quiet for a while and Lou hoped Artie had decided not to pursue the question any further.
“The thing you write with? The ink one?” Artie said finally, with a little smile.
Lou heaved a heavy sigh and glared at her. She just smiled back, looking at her with those huge, dark eyes. “Pen,” she said, finally.
“‘Pin’,” Artie repeated, visibly delighted that Lou was still playing along. “Cloverleaf?”
Lou’s eyebrows raised involuntarily. How did she know that? “You had a one in three chance,” Lou huffed.
Artie leaned back with a big grin. Lou instinctively looked away from her teeth. “Anyway, don’t be embarrassed about being a country girl. Johnny Knives is inaka, too.”
“How did you know?” Lou asked.
“About you? I don’t know. I’ve been all over the place and I like hearing people talk. And my dad is from near Travertine,” Artie said. “I guess, me too, but. It’s complicated. Anyway, you got a stronger accent than her. So it was easy. I feel like the pin-pen thing is so Cloverleaf. Oh, and how you say golly like that all the time. ‘Gol-lee’. Very Cloverleafian.”
#Wasteland Pony Express#katieakipresentsthewasteland#original fiction#original content#oc#Lou#Louetta Primrose#lesbian fiction#interactive fiction#choose your own adventure#queer western#western romance#lgbtq fiction#choose your own path#cyoa#Artie#Reckoning Tehachapi#Holliday#Holliday Bell#wasteland pony express update
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between the lines | kth
summary: the boy you have a crush on loves to draw between the lines of your notebook.
✨ title: between the lines | ✨ pairing: taehyung x f!reader
✨ genre/au: fluff | college!au | ✨ rating: g | ✨ word count: 1.3k
✨ warnings: none (?) is this the first time this has happened?? lol at least i don't think there are any, if you find one lmk.
✨ a/n: thank you to @alphabetboyluvr for helping me with this fic title and the hubs for helping me draw some things! and happy birthday to taetae.
"Can I get a piece of paper? I forgot my notebook."
Without hesitation, you tore out a piece from yours and handed it to Kim Taehyung - the boy you had been crushing on since the first day of class. He first caught your eye when he showed up in a full-on suit, which you thought was odd, then on other days, he'll show up in a hoodie and sweats. He loved flip-flopping between the two styles.
"Can I also borrow a pen?" he asked with his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, hoping you didn't mind him asking more of you.
You chuckled and shook your head. How could you say no to that face? So you began digging through your bag for a pen. "Are you always this forgetful?" you asked, pointing the pen at him, waiting for him to take it. But also, how does someone come to class unprepared? It's not like it's a surprise.
Taehyung smiled. "Yes," he said, plucking it from your grasp.
"Don't lose it. It's my favorite pen." You already felt you wouldn't be seeing your pen again. There was a twinge of regret in your heart when he clicked the pen and began scribbling away. God, he's going to use all the ink!
Your professor continued his lecture. Twenty minutes in, and you couldn't stop yawning. An eight o'clock class was just too early for anyone's brain to function, but you wanted to get this class out of the way. And you liked the rest of your day free from classes.
Since you were young, you have always doodled in your notebook—little stars or spirals in the corner. You couldn't draw to save your life, but it helped pass the time.
You covered your mouth as another yawn escaped - the third one in ten minutes. You straighten your posture, hoping it will help.
Taehyung looked over, watching you struggle to stay awake. He focused on the pen, and the top was adorned with a brown bear. He leaned into your personal space, taking his thumb and index finger, and squeezed the bear.
"What are you doing?" you whispered as he squashed the bear violently between his thumb and index finger.
"It's squishy," he said, marveling at the softness.
You yanked it away from him. It's not like you were writing anything important, you were doodling, but he was interrupting. And yes, you bought this specific pen because it was cute, squishy, and a good stress reliever.
"…Sorry," he mumbled, sinking back into his chair. He returned to his previous position, facing the front.
You scowled at him, looking at his paper; he had nothing written down. What was the point of you giving him paper and a pen if he wasn't going to use them? You ignored the cute boy with fluffy hair and continued doodling away — swirls, clouds, and stars filled the corner of your notepad.
The professor's words went in one ear and out the other as you mindlessly drew; from your peripheral view, you could feel Taehyung's eyes back on you. Then you could see his raised arm coming in your direction, his pen drawing a nine-square grid with a big X in the middle.
You turned to him, catching his smirk before returning to the grid, marking an O in the top right corner. The two of you continued until it was a cat's game, and you would not let him win. Turning to him, you playfully stuck your tongue out before returning your focus to your professor. But you should've known that Taehyung wasn't finished playing games.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take note of this section in the chapter because it will be on the next exam. This exam will be worth ten percent of your grade," said your professor.
You were ready to jot down the chapter he referenced but Taehyung nudged your hand, writing the letters: M.A.S.H.
God, he was relentless, wasn't he?
Growing up, you and your older sister used to play this silly game all the time. In the 'future partner' column, you wrote down your choices: Park Jimin — Taehyung's best friend, and Jeon Jungkook – Taehyung's roommate. And you were going to write down Yoongi, the TA but Taehyung knocked your hand out of the way, scribbling down his name.
The next column was the number of kids. The two of you took turns writing down numbers: 2, 99, and 4. You rolled your eyes at his 99. Imagine pushing out 99 kids? Is that even possible?
It was time to choose places you'd want to live. You'd always dreamt of Sydney and Paris, which you quickly wrote down before Taehyung wrote his choice — New York. His was also a good one, you couldn't complain.
Next was the type of transportation, and being the jokester he was, Taehyung scribbled a tandem bike, making you roll your eyes. Your choices were a Range Rover and, for giggles, a school bus. Taehyung snorted when he saw what you wrote.
You mouthed, "What"?
"Cute," he mouthed back.
You grinned at his comment. Did he mean you were cute or what you wrote was cute?
And lastly, was the column for future occupation. You paused to think as though this silly little game was real life, writing down tech bazillionaire. If you chose 99 children, you need to be able to provide for all of them. For the last two options, you let Taehyung choose: astronaut and art curator.
Now was the moment of truth, drawing the spiral to determine your fate. You elbowed Taehyung. "Tell me when to stop," you told him as you closed your eyes. With your pen to paper, you began drawing a spiral.
He leaned in, whispering, "Stop."
You opened your eyes, clearing your throat, when you realized how close he was to you. Looking at the spiral you drew, you counted seven lines and began counting and eliminating the written choices.
Taehyung snickered when his friends' names were crossed out, and you circled his name. "Guess we're getting married," he teased, licking his lips.
Honestly, you'd marry him in a heartbeat, no questions asked, given that you hardly knew the guy. It would help if you had a real conversation before letting him get on his knees.
You continued eliminating the choices written on the paper. Taehyung peered over to see the results of the silly game. He flashed a wide grin, chuckling softly. You guessed he was happy with the results, which concluded in a marriage to Kim Taehyung, with four kids, living in an apartment in Paris. The two of you would have to figure out the tandem bicycle as a mode of transportation because it wasn't suitable for a family of six. The occupation aligns more with Taehyung than it did with you. He was definitely artsier than your silly doodles on your paper.
You peered over at him again, but he was focused on the professor. You wondered what other interests and hobbies he had and if he was a good flirt through conversations, not just on paper.
"Okay, class. I will see you on Friday. Please study hard, and if you have any questions, you can reach me via my office hours."
Finally, the class was over, and you were getting ready to gather your things, but Taehyung stopped you from closing your notebook.
"What are you doing?" you asked, glaring at him as he scribbled something before closing it. He grinned as you watched him take off without saying a word. You wondered what his deal was
Half the class was already gone by the time you finished gathering your things. You flipped to the page the two of you had been writing on. Scanning the page, you saw what he wrote: I like you.
You had to give it to him. He knew how to make you blush with the simplest of things. Quickly, you grabbed your things to try and find him. You poked your head out the door, looking both ways before you spotted him. You caught his gaze just as he turned back.
"What about my pen?!" you yelled out after him.
He stopped in his tracks and turned around. "If you want it, come and get it."
#taehyung fic#taehyung fanfic#kim taehyung#taehyung fluff#taehyung cute#taehyung#taehyung x you#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x reader#bts scenario#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n
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