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tojiscumdumpster · 2 months

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ toji fushiguro x his favorite customer (revision)

✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.

✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.

✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.

When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock.

Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night.

I don’t do favorites.

I damn sure don’t give discounts.

And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed.

My favorite customer.

Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good.

I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy.

I fucked Y/N once.

Then, twice.

Then, again.

And again.

And again…

If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.

No.

It is.

So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy.

The perfect fuck to end my day.

Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild.

But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk.

Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty.

“You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response.

Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion.

She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper.

I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client.

But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this.

Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively.

“Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”

I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”

By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is.

Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes.

“Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”

“Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.

“I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”

Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me.

“Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.”

Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me.

She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit.

My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes.

A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.

I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process.

Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me.

“Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.”

“Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle.

“Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat.

My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum.

Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess.

Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy.

Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.

Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker.

No hesitation. I-

“Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop.

I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.

A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn.

Good, because I’m not finished with her.

“All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”

Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck.

I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt.

Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust.

“Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”

“I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans.

Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds.

I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked.

My name drips perfectly from her lips.

Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning.

“Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.

“Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”

I chuckle. “Atta girl.”

I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.

I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”

“God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me.

“Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts.

“Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”

I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center.

Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans.

I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me.

I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.

Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like?

“You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”

She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”

“Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”

My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy.

And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm.

Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too.

Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record.

Yeah, she’s a perfect fuck.

My favorite customer.

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #anime fanfic #fanfic smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #toji x black reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x black reader

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nonuify · 17 days

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ᝰ.ᐟ 🐈‍⬛ — J.WW ; ! soon to be mrs

nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. old money au ! [ smut, fluff & degrading kink oop- ]. idk why inspired by this song lol ꩜. | wc ; 1.8k.

“ who would’ve thought that you were to be with one of the most wealthiest men on earth? but being the wealthiest sure means being the busiest here you are sitting bored in the classiest bar in paris while being on a business outing with your dear fiancé. ”

if you told yourself four years ago that you are engaged to jeon wonwoo of jeon industries you would’ve laughed your ass off.

but now here you are sitting right beside him.

he had displayed his affection to you by holding your thigh with his veiny hands, his fingers brushing slowly on the delicate surfaces of your skin. but he was also giving more attention to the business man in-front of him and you.

now you would bang your head to the wall of boredom but you must admit that it is refreshingly breathtaking to your ears hearing the man talking business with his elegant french accent but you would’ve loved it more if your dear lover was making love to you in the penthouse owned by him.

but of course here he was not giving the attention that you’ve been needing all these two hours. trying squeezing your thighs together to relive some friction but eventually becoming a failed attempt the reason being your fiancé, giving you a blank stare for a moment meaning to warn you but you didn’t give a flying shit anymore you just wanted to get your brains fucked out.

a low sigh escaping your lips from clear frustration following a roll from your eyes which caused the french man to speak up “mademoiselle it must be tiring for being a wife of such a busy man” a chuckle out his lips while taking a sip from his martini, a giggle also left your lips with a response “well if I may say yes it is tiring but wonu always makes it up to me” a wink flew to wonwoo making him smile.

“by making up I’m sure you mean hurting his credit card” a hearty laugh from the client.

“well no, but the answer well… let’s just say it isn’t appropriate for a business scene like this” a smirk forming on your lips, enjoying every moment of this, but as your eyes shifted to your lover you couldn’t say the same, his eyes widened as he almost choked from his alcoholic drink from the words the graced your mouth.

but smoothly saved the awkward silence by saying “I think my darling angel here has had too many drinks” he chuckled but did not mean he found it funny one bit.

instead he was frustrated maybe even abit jealous if he may add he knew that bastard of a client was flushed when y/n said that, not to mention he dared to check his fiancé out too many times for his liking.

“well.. it was nice meeting you mr.aucalir but i think i need to take care of y/n here” he said putting a hand around your shoulder, signaling for you to get up from the comfy space of the chairs you were both sitting in. “ it was a pleasure having a drink with you mr.jeon & certainly a delight to have known soon to be mrs.jeon here” he said kissing you hand while you giggled away also went afar from the business man you just chatted with, coming close to wonwoo’s black porsche 718 spyder RS, his looks weren’t the only thing that was breathtaking but also his taste in cars.

the feeling of the seats leather warmed your skin but once you sat done his hand also warmed the flesh of your thigh once again but this time he gripped it tight, you knew you were in for a ride once you got home.

“wonwon you know i was joking my love?” batting your eye lashes at the male who was driving the car, but unsurprisingly you were meant by silence from him but the car sped faster, wonwoo knew your bratty little tricks and he wasn’t gonna give you what you desperately wanted easily.

after of what seemed like a decade of a car ride you finally stepped into the penthouse you guys had lived into for a short-period stay in paris, the simple yet sophisticated well decor gave the housing unit a warm yet elegant vibe, you’re admiration for the designing of the penthouse was cut short when your fiancé pinned your arms above your pretty little head to the wall leaving no space between your bodies, he wasn’t touching you thoroughly yet your panties soaked when he did the simple movement “nonu I didn’t mean to word it out like that I swear it was only for fun” you pouted, knees weakened as he stared into your pretty trapped hands around his & saw the big diamond rock around your finger, memories flowed when he asked to be his forever, then moved his beautiful orbed eyes and looked at yours with so much lust yet so much love.

“I think it’s about time you shut your dirty little mouth for me how about that doll?” he spoke as he left his lips dangerously close to yours eventually kissing you passionately.

his hands moved letting yours freed but went to your hips grabbing them, you wrapped your legs quickly around his waist, knowing this session was heading to the bedroom you slept in.

your roberto cavalli dress you’d previously had worn was now on the floor as you were on the bed, back on the silk mattress & now wonwoo was on top of you, taking off your classic black little thong a wet spot was felt by his hands causing him to laugh “dumb baby gets wet by anything don’t you?” throwing you a smug smile, “you were the one who-“ you get cut off, your own panties gagging you “that motherfucker” you thought as now you can’t do nothing but whine against the thong that was in your mouth.

“didn’t I tell you it’s time to you shut your mouth angel?” kissing your neck leaving purplish-redish marks against it, you knew he loved marking you, it was a way he would prove to the world you were his and his only.

you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you even more wet, whining & moaning louder as your lover moved from your neck to quickly ripping your black bralette that obviously matched your thong.

he groped one of your breasts in one hand with the other he bit & roughly kissed it.

he knew how sensitive your nipples were and oh boy you were in for a very long night, with each kiss the rougher on your poor nub, “mm those boobs were made for me weren’t they angel” he smiled against one of them as you would only moan loudly enjoying every bit of this moment, wonwoo the moved down to your wet sex, hot breathes against it.

kissing your inner thighs first then eventually after more teasing he sucked on your clit , your hands never moved faster down to his hair at that second, his eyes on yours as he licked & kissed away down there, you could only watch and was helplessly gagged by the panties as even your moans were painfully to let out by that you knew if it made you uncomfy he would remove it in a matter of moments.

but luckily you liked it no. loved it deep down you both know you were a little masochist.

“aww my dumb girl is struggling” he faked a pout then went back to tongue fucking your hole, stretching your tight little cunt out until a knot formed in your stomach feeling an orgasm coming, whining loudly as you tugged on his hair more harder, rolling your eyes you finally you came on his face.

panting heavily till you calmed down a little. momentarily after that he took the panties from your mouth & threw it somewhere around the dark natured bedroom, you begged him “please please nonu please fuck me I promise I’ll be a good girl “ as tears formed falling from your eyes, giving him the best puppy eyes ever “but I let you came no?” disappointed as you began to cry more, thinking of an idea of letting him into fucking you, you got on all fours pressing your ass on his clear raging boner “such a pathetic cocksleeve” but he smiled at how desperately you wanted him he found it cute even.

you heard his belt being taken off, you couldn’t be happier after hearing that you could scream you were getting what you wanted all night long “t-thank you s-so much nonu!!” how cute his cute little angel “always so polite when I give you my cock, I guess you are my good girl” he chuckled kneading the flesh of your ass then spanking each side of your cheeks loving the sight of it jiggling.

teasing you, sliding his dick against your folds, you whined pushing backwards to hope you would get him inside of you quickly, but he answers by grabbing your head and pushing down on the mattress with one hand and pushing his cock in your tight hole with the other.

make-up that took hours for you to finish was totally ruined.

your knuckles turned white from how you gripped at the mattress “w-wonnwon!!” moaning loudly feeling as he stretched you out completely by his big cock, “fuck a-always so fuckin’ tight f’me” he groaned thrusting slowly for you to adjust to his size then picking up the pace, skin slapping & lewd noises was filled with in the room.

“mm fuck this cunt was made f’me isn’t it princess, m’gonna wife you up ” you only muffled a mm! yeah! loudly as a response, too fucked out to respond correctly.

“gonna cum with me angel?” his thrusts sped up feeling his high he moaned and said again “cmon baby come with me s-shit” both moaning in unison riding your high together till he came & you squirted out on his cock.

loving the feeling of his warm seed in you, you whined after he pulled out and lied down on the bed with you “fuck that was really hot baby, squirting all for me” he pushed the hair out your face and leaves kisses all over your face, saying precious compliments on how you did good for him, “mm love you nonu” you hugged him lying with him soon into going into the world slumber “love you more angel” he smiled pulling you close to him.

the tingling thought of tomorrow & the day after & after because what was awaiting is the best life you could wish for as long as it’s with jeon wonwoo.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ this is so bad I’m so sorry- but thank you for reading >ᴗ< !!

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff

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simp-ly-writes · 3 months

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Office Love (pt.1)

What if Vox had an assistant that soon became more than that?

Pairing: Vox x assistant!Reader

Warnings: some suggestive content near the end and canon-typical language.

A/N: something different to what I usually write- hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist (PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ When the application advertisement first flashed against your social media feed- you clicked past it very quickly before one of your friends was ushering you to apply. They had been working with the V's for a number of years now and produced a plethora a fan-favorite shows

↳ When you application got accepted and you were being thrown into a suit for the interview, you were all the more thankful when the overlord themselves were not hosting yet the managers were. A more than few warning here and there- but that was with every job you worked in hell. You didn't work hard enough, you were better off dead- simply put.

↳ You did not often see your boss in person after signing the contract with him day one. Only emailing him his schedule that was often cancelled mid-way through the day and you were running out of excuses for his clients

↳ Velvette and Valentino were often more intimidating that Vox. You had gotten used to his tantrums, PR nightmares, and televised cancellations that were often fixed with a light bit of hypnotization that you could only roll your eyes at before going back to your emails

↳ You would memorize his every need, knowing his favorite meals and coffee preferences, when he needed to recharge and even how to text exactly like him. You kept track of every social media handle that held his name, growing his followers while riffing on Alastor- an action that Vox dearly appreciated

↳ As time would progress, you would become too good at your job. So much so that his other six assistants had all gotten fired for lack of polish as Vox excused it. Clinking his coffee mug to yours sat at your desk. He hardly used his own office these days, often taking calls at your computer as you sat on your desk- off to the side as you rearranged his schedule once again

↳ You were starting to become his shadow and he always noticed when you were gone for a minute too long. He liked the reassurance your presence brought him- he enjoyed knowing that you would always know what to say in order to benefit the company and find ways for him not to interaction with people he disliked

↳ Velvette and Valentino noticed this as well- how close you had gotten to their business partner without a second thought. Sometimes you would even show up in replacement for Vox when one of their branches had gone down once again and often times they wished it was you that addressed the problem rather than the man himself

↳ When a reality show comes out, highlighting the lives of overlords all over the city including the three V's (mostly them though for PR that they desperately needed and had made multiple comments on). It did numbers and your friend from earlier could not have been happier getting that promotion to head producer of the show

↳ You soon became a fan favorite for your witty comebacks at the TV head as he wold only smile in return- liking that you had the heart to knock him down a few pegs. The fans would stalk everyones social media profiles, liking each image that had you just cropped out of it

↳ Vox had insisted that you were not to be seen in any of the media production- something about no wanting to corrupt your mind as well. You could only shake your head at this information- all you ever did was stare at screens all day, this comment made Vox's box go pink as his speech buffered. Taking a second to rethink your wording, your cheeks had appeared red while the cameras rolled and money starting pouring in

↳ The fans demanded more attention put towards you, screaming at you from behind the barricades as you walked the corporate building each morning. "CAN I GET A PICTURE WITH YOU," "I SHIP IT," "WORK FOR ME INSTEAD." They started to shove one another over, trying to get your attention as your feet picked up pace

↳ Vox had made his way through the wires and various security cameras settled around the neighbourhood. He wrapped an arm around your waist, ensuring that when the barricade fell and you were swarmed that you would not be dragged away with the crowd

↳ You voiced your thanks once safely in the building as Vox announced a surprise for your recent good work- this was their most profitable quarter yet and you would have Velvette tailored work to wear each day. Picking up the various blue suits you eyed them suspiciously to those of your boss. Vox only shrugged his shoulders before taking a call

↳ The dating allegation grew every week as blushed heavily at the headlines, Vox who now was only found in your office asked what was making you have such a reaction, even when he was in the middle of a meeting. You quickly hid your screen as he could only chuckle, sparking it back to life and projecting it on the monitor

↳ "Oh, so THIS is what has you all red- me is it?" Vox states with pride, leaning over the table and into your personal space as your blush only grows down your neck. You take a sip of your now cold coffee, hiding a wince as you get back on track with answering Valentino back

↳ When you arrive the next morning, dead flowers are found on your desk that make you chuckle, you read the note with a smile before handing the TV man his coffee for the morning, your chairs right beside one another as you work in tandum

↳ Years into your work now, you barley find yourself going home, choosing to stick for the V's movie nights together that they insist on you being present for alongside finding it easier to let Vox know of scheduling changes last minute from within your shared apaprtment

↳ After much demand, you and Vox have a one on one livestream interview for the public within your apartment, you both make small touches to one another, fixing his tie, he holds your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb- the fans are losing their shit as the other to V's sit back and rake in the cash

↳ A question about your work ethic and sex-worker allegation gets read out by Velvette that has Vox glitching out with rage as you pull on the back of his jacket, urging him to calm down as you loop your arm in his, leaning into his side, "run that by me one more time, Velvette," Vox states with a twitch as you blink your eyes towards her- pleading that she does not.

↳ After a particularly good corporate event, you find yourself in Vox's bed as he urges you not to leave, his voice is merely murmurs in your ear as you do not have the heart to roll away from. Soon these off hand-nights become a more common occurrence that as Valentino the slitest bit jealous at first, but when he surprises you in the mornings with a new package that got sent to the wrong apartment, he cannot help put wink at seeing the marks on your skin

↳ You and Vox never made anything official, you were still his assistant of course- his assistant that he would always have a hand on a bit too low for public attention. A worker who was NOT allowed to be asked on a date by someone else. And the person he jumped to protect against the smallest threat but against your name

(PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @amarokofficial

#hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #vox x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel vees #simp-ly-writes #simp-ly

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ipegchangbin · 4 months

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— heavy lifting

sub!gym buddy!changbin x dom!personal trainer!reader | 8.1k words

♡ … sequel to uplifting After Changbin’s gotten too comfortable around the gym, you needed to remind him of his place. You’re his significant other, sure, but you’re still his personal trainer — and his training is only getting even more personal.

❥ gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics). smut. fluff. established relationship. pure porn, no plot. ❥ bratty perv changbin. petnames “baby,” “coach,” “rat,” and “bun”/“bunny,” semi-public unprotected sex, anal creampie (reader receiving), fingering (changbin receiving), strength kink (headlock), no specifics about y/n’s physique—but y/n is strong.

📝 happy new year bitch!!! i finally fucking finished The self-indulgent fic!!! header art by ME! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

You and your client — now boyfriend — Changbin were getting ready to go to the gym. Staring at your bathroom mirror together, he flexed his arms as he hugged you close to his body.

One look at the man and you can tell he’s changed.

He’s far from the man you met a year ago, the boy with a thick build that shyly signed you up as his personal trainer. He used to close his big body into itself every time he wasn’t trying to impress you. Shy as he was with you, his crush, Changbin was also confident whenever he had the opportunity to try and make you swoon.

Now that he got you in his arms, you all his and him all yours, he’s a lot more toned now and a lot more open.

You got very clear glimpses of his personality at the gym, but dating him officially was like opening a gate and welcoming yourself into his colorful world. It didn’t take too long to find out that he works as a lifestyle journalist, but it took many months more to find out that his side gig is working as a talent manager for some small-time DJ named CB or something. Whoever that guy is, your boyfriend claims that he’s just as shy as your coworker Chris, hence why he doesn’t show up often.

Changbin opened up more of his life to you just as you gave lots of your life to him. Every date extended from the gym to the cafe next to it, from fancy restaurants in each of your hometowns to humble home-cooked dinners at either his or your apartments. He stutters less and he’s more giggly around you, while you’re definitely not your usual strict self when it comes to cuddles in his bed.

You two allowed your lives to meld into each other and bond, mix in, and create one shared universe that you can both breathe in. He loved you and you loved him and that never seems to end anywhere.

But it all starts at the gym, you figured, and it always goes back there; he hasn’t signed out of being your client and technically still pays you to help him work out.

“Y/N,” he said with a smile on his face. “Wait first, please? I’m not ready to go to the gym yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and struggled to look back as his arms engulfed you. “First time I’ve ever heard that from you. Why?”

Changbin is always more than eager to go to the gym, so the request set you back. He giggled and you could feel his chest pump against your back. He smiled at your figure in the mirror.

“What are you plotting?” You squinted your eyes back at his reflection. Changbin smiled dumbly in response.

You almost asked again until he leaned down to kiss your cheek from the side. It wasn’t a peck at all, his lips solidly planted on the apple of your cheek for a bit longer than two seconds, and it ended with an audible smooch at the pucker of his lips.

“Heh. I love you, bun.”

The smile on his face returned bigger and brighter. His cheeks heated up and his ears turned incredibly red at his own actions even if he was supposed to leave you melting; well, you were, definitely relaxing in the hold of his biceps at the simple display of affection.

But you’re stronger than him, at least emotionally, and he knows that.

“That was it?” You faked dissatisfaction in your tone and it turned him back into the shy guy you met a year ago. “Gonna delay your gym appointment for just a little kiss?”

His eyes didn’t leave your figure in your bathroom mirror. Changbin’s body heated up and you could feel every bit of him collapse slightly as he stared at your face.

To him, you’re still as handsome and as pretty as the time he met you, if not significantly more beautiful now than ever. Even when you were intimidating.

“I don’t think my coach minds if I’m late,” he attempted a smirk.

Changbin grabbed your wrists with a swiftness and held them against your back. Holding them with two hands, he made sure that you were unable to separate your arms, teasing you with one of his strength displays.

“Coach probably wouldn’t mind, especially when they’re late too.”

He wasn’t just planning on locking your hands there. He was feeling bold and you could feel it in the strong hold of his hands against yours.

But you’re physically stronger than he is.

You raised your arms and his hands together over your head, catching Changbin off-guard, twisting your wrists and your body so that you finally faced him. With his hands in the air, you grabbed him by his wrists this time, holding your shocked boyfriend’s hands together and slamming his frozen body against the wall.

You had his hands over his head, locking him in a far more vulnerable position. A blush ran through the apples of his cheeks and painted his ears red. He looked most delicious with his eyes wide open, mouth hung ajar, and pretty little head racing endlessly with thoughts.

“And what makes you think your coach would excuse this unnecessary tardiness?” You asked him with an ear-to-ear grin and half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not saying they’d…allow it…” Changbin bit his bottom lip for a second to ease his stammering. “I’m saying I don’t mind the punishment.”

You chuckled at his weak response. “Where’d you get this boldness?”

“From you, bun.”

You leaned in impossibly closer to his face, tightening the grip on his wrists. Your thumbs massaged the peaks of his palms as your gaze drilled into Changbin for making moves that you never thought he’d do. The man felt so much smaller under you, his biceps clenching suddenly at the tense atmosphere that he initiated.

You stepped away, releasing his hands, and softly smiled. “Binnie, you owe me a hearty dinner tonight.”

Changbin blinked. “Is that my punishment?”

“Yes and no,” you tapped his bicep and squeezed at his muscles. Your sultry voice returned briefly. “Why, do you want more?”

Changbin nodded almost a little too quickly to be subtle.

You turned around to face away from him and smirked.

“How about we go to the gym and find out?”

The trip on the way to the fitness center went on as it usually did, full of banter and tight hand-holding. Your boyfriend was extra giddy in the driver’s seat — he insisted on driving — and seemed way too excited for something just a little less special than a date. After all, this was your work, and he’s still your client.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to be yours for a day.

You both greeted Chris, your coworker, and Changbin’s right-hand man, and Minho, Changbin’s left-hand devil. They were both sparring until you two entered the picture. After handshakes and smiles, they noticed the subconsciously possessive hand of yours snaking around your boyfriend’s back.

They always had knowing grins and your boyfriend always looked like a bullied little dog whenever they teased him.

Whatever it was between you or the two friends, you shrugged it off and headed to the semi-private training room that Changbin liked. It was a four-walled room full of mirrors and equipment, almost always reserved for you and him, your personal training all upgraded to something much more personal now that everyone in the gym knew the both of you.

Shutting the door behind you, your boyfriend let out a giggle. You turned to see him hiding a smile with a dumb look on his face as if he was aching to tell you a joke. You lightly tapped his cheek and he shrugged it off with a downturned smile.

“Anyway, silly boy, we’re here to work out your upper body and arm strength,” you headed over to set up the equipment, yet Changbin’s eyes wouldn’t stop following your figure as you spoke. You could feel the stare right onto your ass, his favorite part of your body, and it felt nasty yet comfortably familiar.

“Binnie, please pass me the—”

“Hmm…” Changbin crossed his arms, pretending to stand inattentively.

You blinked. Tapped your shoe to grab his attention. Nothing worked, and your boyfriend — your client — just looked at his reflection in the mirror, biting back a grin with sharp teeth.

“Bin?” You called out to him. “Baby.” No response. “Bun, bunny.” The eyes that were once on your ass seemed to look away, settling for your impending reaction.

“Seo Changbin.”

He whipped his head your way, feigning surprise, but you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned upwards for a split second. He loved hearing his name, loved it so goddamn much that he’d tease you this way just to hear it fall from your lips, no matter how stoically you called him. If it meant that you would succumb just to say his full name, a sign that you were his, then that meant he won in his own book.

“Mhmm? Oh right, what’d you say?”

If he was going to play some stupid game again, you were definitely catching on, and you were going to fucking win it.

“Put the bench down here.”

Changbin’s ears were impossibly red again at the sternness of your voice, but he scoffed, appearing like the overconfident self that he wanted to be to you. He grabbed the bench, sure, but he hovered it just above the spot you wanted him to place it on.

“I said put it down.”

He dropped the bench down with a loud thud. His eyes shifted back and forth between you and his pathetic reflection in the mirror.

You smirked at yourself after watching his natural obedience shine past his antics. “How about we try something?”

Changbin shook off his nervousness to listen to your inquiry.

“Plank with me underneath.” Your voice was stern, eyes all strict on his figure; if an outsider was watching, they wouldn’t know that you were looking at your very own boyfriend.

He merely scoffed in response.

“Extra bossy today, huh?” Changbin smirked at you, the shit-eating grin leaving your heart burning.

You’ve seen that smile before: he flashed that smirk often, teasing you especially whenever he sent you mirror selfies from his apartment with suggestive follow-up voicemails. It made you laugh every single time how tough he tried to look, flexing whatever muscle he wanted and texting like he was going to ruin you; only to look like a piece of dumb melted mess whenever you teased back with the promise of breaking his cock.

And now, of all times, you couldn’t back down. “Of fucking course. Aren’t you forgetting who’s boss?”

Changbin wiggled an eyebrow, knowing he was pushing exactly the right buttons. “You already know.”

“I don’t care. Remind me who your personal trainer is,” you sternly said.

A whisper left his lips. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” he subtly said, but you unfortunately picked up on it.

The dark stare you gave him was all he needed to realize what he had done, mouthing “oh shit.” All he could do now was expect you to double down on whatever you were already doing.

He fucked up, pushing the one last button too early — but he loved that he did, and maybe you did, too.

“Who’s your trainer?” You walked behind his figure on the weight bench. The reflection of your menacing stance in the mirror in front of Changbin left him nervous, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you trace a hand down his back.

You grabbed him: one hand pushing his upper back down while the other hugged his hips upwards. With full force, you caught your boyfriend off-guard by making him fall on all fours on the bench in one singular motion.

“Who is it?” You reiterated, ignoring the long whine that escaped him.

“…Y-You, babe. I-It’s…you—” The words left his mouth all chopped up in stutters.

“I need a name.”

“Y/N,” Changbin whimpered before biting his lips to smile again.

“Seo Y/N.”

If he hadn’t pushed enough, then he did now. It was your job to tease but he was catching on. “Don’t play with me.”

“You know you l-like it. You love my name—”

His response earned him a sudden and firm slap on his ass. The boy cried out, his smile replaced by a scrunched face, his giggle replaced by a full moan.

“Filthy little gym brat,” you hissed.

You grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, forcing him to stare up at your reflection in the mirror alongside his pre-fucked-out face. “That’s what you are. Some dumb little workout junkie who thinks of nothing but their trainer’s ass.”

Changbin subtly turned his head in an attempt to look at your actual face. “You’d do the same if I was your trainer.”

“That’s what you think, rat.” You spanked his ass again, this time allowing it to sting through his thin shorts. “At least I’m not a weak little submissive toy of a man like you.”

He whimpered again, this time sounding pained. You thought it was from the spank itself but immediately figured that he was attempting not to leak precum in his shorts. His cock strained against his pants painfully. How cute.

“Y/N! Please, please!” Changbin hissed.

In a twisted attempt to worsen his situation, you sneaked your hand under his shorts to grope one of his ass cheeks, your nails digging into the spank mark. “Please what?”

“F-Fuck…” He attempted to speak straight, holding back drool from spilling out of his mouth by biting his lips back. He stared at you through the mirror with glossy eyes. The hearts in his pupils shined through his bangs, affecting you as if they were aphrodisiacs.

“Please fuck me?”

Without a doubt, his bratty antics were getting to you, but you merely smirked back at him. The same grin he flashed you earlier now pasted on your face, mirroring everything he did from the ego boost down to the annoying scoff that left his mouth. Only yours was more sadistic, infuriating, yet all sorts of hot and addicting.

Changbin anticipated your response, the brattiness leaving him, faux fear inching close to his heart.

“Do you really think you deserve that?”

He tried to whine but nothing could escape his mouth. He was incredibly hard and his poor little fat dick couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe if he didn’t rush his flirtatious antics before you two got into the gym, he would’ve changed into looser shorts that could actually give his cock some breathing room.

What’s worse is that you probably knew this but never gave him — nor his cock — the mercy to breathe.

Changbin settled on shaking his head, his scalp stinging a little from the hold of your hand on his curls. At his response, you forcibly let go of the hand, pushing his head down slightly, making his head bow in painful humiliation.

A delicious whimper made its way out of his mouth.

“I’m here to train you,” you said, your other hand still firm on his ass, “I will train you to be patient, hmm? I’m not your partner now.”

You squeezed his ass one last time before removing your hand from his shorts. “I’m your coach for now, you’re my client, yeah? I’ll fuck you if you’ve been good enough.”

Changbin simply nodded his head eagerly. You chuckled darkly, impressed at your brat’s sudden obedience.

“Now, where were we?” You slapped your palms on his round and bouncy pecs. “Oh right.”

You got on your knees down to meet his eye level, him elevated as he was supported by the bench. You looked like you could kiss him, or if he stood up then you would suck him off, or maybe eat his ass in that position — but you simply grinned, laying down with your back to the floor and front facing up under Changbin.

“Do a bench plank with me underneath. One minute and thirty seconds. Go.”

Poor guy had the most agonizing minute and a half of his life.

The sight of you, winning at the game he set, and teasing him with the nastiest curl of your dark smile left him struggling when he usually never did. He could’ve gone on for possibly two minutes or more, he never tested the limit, but maybe he hit it when he was forced to stare at you.

“Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.” The husky timbre of your voice rang in his head as you counted the seconds down, a daunting timer right underneath him. He couldn’t believe himself, that he tried to become an annoying brat — and he never expected such a return.

But what was he supposed to expect from you — the partner he bagged through fucking in the very same gym he was struggling to work out in.

Changbin’s cock was straining, raging boner only ever getting harder while staring at you and your body that he loved so much. He couldn’t say a word, mutter a single word of worship even if he wanted to; he was still keeping up the act, refusing to succumb to the game he was still trying not to lose.

Maybe he already did, but he’s stubborn, just as you found him out to be.

“Fifty. Fifty-one, fifty-two…”

Flowing through his popping veins, his blood heated up his entire body when he was just planking, a simple warm-up exercise, as he fell into the pit of disbelief that you held the reigns and all the power even while being physically under him. He felt humiliated, less than the confident man he wanted to be, feeling smaller and significantly less strong than he actually was.

“Eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine…”

At some point, he felt like giving up, like bucking his elbows and letting go of the bench. That unfortunately meant that he would drop onto your body and crush you, losing the game and, more importantly, hurting you.

It was beyond a game at that point. His nerves were fighting themselves, he wanted to cum, to drop onto your hips and just be fucked by your body. He was so ready to admit defeat, but he couldn’t at the cost and real fucking risk of crushing you.

Crushing the body he so loved. The collection of parts that made up the whole that is you, the one he fell in love with. The curves and sharp edges that framed your plush skin and contours, the hairs that grow in directions that flatter you. There’s something in the way the sight of your body places him in a trance; perhaps because it is the very body that houses the person he loves, his coach, the one who loves him, the one who knows how to love him. And god, you were strong, strong enough to bear his weight, but his anxiety boiled all the way down his crotch.

Can’t crush the body he loves.

He didn’t want that. Of course, you wouldn’t want that. He shut his eyes and listened to your voice instead of the thought. His sweat dropped from his forehead and neck down to your cheek, making you chuckle. The lightness of your laugh relieved him a little, but also made him harder, his hips wishing to line up against yours.

Of course, you noticed. Of course, you knew how badly he wanted you. You pulled your knee up and brushed it against his crotch.

“One hundred!”

Changbin yelled loudly at the action and your last count, failing to realize that he had gone ten seconds past a minute and a half. He tensely let go of the bench, only to catch himself painfully with his elbows and propping his body just inches above yours.

He flinched more at the fact that you barely flinched rather than the last-minute save down on your body.

“Good job, Binnie. You went beyond the time limit!”

Cock aching between his legs, Changbin resisted to call for a restroom break as he knew you would’ve humiliated him. He would want that, but not in the way he truly needed. He craved your validation in the form of proper disciplining, wishing to bring out that side of you, his coach.

But lord was your praise music to his ears.

If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it then.

The workouts went on for what seemed like hours of agony and his cock wouldn’t soften at all.

He did more reps on the pulldown machine than usual. It didn’t help that you hovered over him with your ass just above his hips as his back ached and arched at each pull. He looked beautiful, *fuckable,*especially when he complained slightly about doing another set at your command.

“Another?”

“Why, can’t do it?”

“What if I said no—”

You pulled the bar down with his arms in a sudden burst of strength, stretching his entire upper body, making Changbin groan so loud it might’ve echoed beyond the private room.

“You’re doing it anyway, that’s a demand.”

Then he got on the bench press while you hovered over his crotch. You counted the reps as he tried to focus on the heavy barbells. Your ass teased him, luscious hips just above his own in a way that made him feel like throwing the weights and pushing you down on his cock instead.

Turns out that wait is more tiring than weights.

Then you commanded him to use the sit-up machine while your lips were dangerously close to his every time he curled up. Then you took him to the chest press and forced him to stare at you, not your ass in the mirror behind him. Every single other exercise felt like another lap down the circles of hell.

He also did elevated push-ups on the bench as you sat on his lower back. The tease of your ass against the back of his hips drove him insane.

You spanked his ass again and he almost came then and there.

He was heaving, not just from the muscle soreness, but also from the thought that you could just fuck his ass in this position if you could — but alas, you held it over his head, and he was just a “filthy fucking gym brat.”

You could feel your veins popping as he smirked at you upon accomplishing his last set, only to feel satisfaction when he ducked his head and pouted when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t get too cocky, rat.” Your hand found his right bicep and held the firm, exhausted muscles.“How about I check your progress, hmm?”

A finger ran across the grooves of his shoulder blades and defined collarbones. “Oh, this rat did so well after all.” You ran your knuckles against the firm skin, feeling his biceps flex under your bones. Changbin shuddered at the touch, affecting him mentally and physically.

But god was your lovely voice making it so much worse. “Body got so much prettier.”

So was your teasing. “And you’re still so eager.”

You pointed straight at his erection while your other palm squeezed his strong forearm. He hated the teasing, or loved it; he isn’t too sure. Before he could say anything, feel the humiliation creep in for being a huge pervert, you bent down — and intentionally showed the curvature of your ass — to pick up a bottle.

“Does my baby want a treat?” You offered the treat in the form of a bottle of his favorite energy drink, still all cold even after being sat on the floor throughout the entirety of the workout.

The boy was thirsting, sure, but he wanted to quench a different kind of thirst. If the short yet thick tent on his crotch was any indication, then it was the darkened gaze that suddenly flickered in his eyes when he stared at you.

“No.”

A bratty side was returning and you hated that same lopsided smile on his small, puffy mouth.

“I want Y/N.”

You fiercely grabbed him by his cheeks, pinching your thumb and index finger down onto the softness of his cheeks. Your boyfriend’s luscious lips puckered at the pressure, but he tried to look less cute in your hands with a little tinge of failure.

“Demanding now, are we? You’re gonna have to train more if you think you deserve me.” You dug your nails harder into the skin of his cheeks. “What are we here for again?”

No response. Your nails sunk in more, making your boyfriend whimper. “Answer me.”

“Training.”

You let go. “Good. Training for?”

“M-My body.”

“Yes,” your voice softened. “For your pretty body.” You felt up his muscles, fingers walking across the thin fabric of his shirt and dancing around his firm, sweating skin. The threads were cool due to his sweat yet his skin was warm under your touch, the blood of a full-body blush creeping just within his veins, flesh reddening where it’s most sensitive — which is everywhere your hands graced.

“Such a glorious thing. So thick. So firm. So smooth, so beautiful.” Fallen into a trance at your warm words and touching, Changbin grew lightheaded, losing sense of thought almost completely even if he was feeling all sorts of emotions at once.

With a dark voice, you asked him an important question. “My baby worked out so well. But you’re missing something, why are you really here?”

Everything had to be mustered up for him to even reply. “To be…a good boy.”

Dumbing down, he felt his head spinning at your touch. He couldn’t form full sentences as he grew dumb, but he tried, and you could feel him trying. He still wanted to impress you but you had him drunk on the thought of you.

At this point, his poor cock had been edged past his record limit, but he hadn’t backed down to rub one out even in the private room with you.

Even if he wanted to. God, it would be nice, being sat with his back laid flat on the bench while your glorious ass cheeks bounced on his fat cock—

“I don’t think we’re done though.”

Feeling the grooves of his well-carved muscles, relishing in the subtle instinctive flexes, you felt a burn inside your heart just above the chest. Changbin was shaking ever so slightly, judged by the mere touch of your fingertips, a lovely little tactile feeling all contrasted with the flaming intent of your actions.

“I want more from you. How much can you lift again?”

Dryness caught itself in Changbin’s throat. “M-More than…130 kilos…”

“How about we see who’s stronger?”

“Baby—” Realizing how deep your pupils seemed to drill themselves into him, he changed terms of endearment. “Coach, what do you mean?”

“I lift you, then you lift me. Let’s see who’s stronger then. Got it?”

The matter-of-factly tone of voice and hands on your own hips got Changbin reeling. He especially loved seeing your displays of strength, something you were ironically subtle about even as his own trainer.

Is it bad that he got more excited to watch you outdo him than to prove you wrong? He hadn’t realized yet, but he was losing his own game.

This gym session was going overtime.

“You gotta be stronger than me to pass.”

Squatting before him, you looked up at him with shiny eyes as you readied yourself to carry your big boy.

He thought he would look unattractive from the lower angle however you digressed. His tummy became more apparent, one of your favorite parts of his body, alongside his ass.

It was no secret that the both of you were obsessed with each other’s bottoms. He wanted yours in a way that a hungry man would want to savor the food he’d finally get. You wanted to finger his as if his plump, round, and firm cheeks weren’t an invitation to be violated.

Maybe you should finger him.

Maybe you’d do it after lifting him off the ground.

“Holy—woah, Y/N, woah woah! Put me down!”

“Ah. Won’t put you down for a minute, I kind of like the heaviness.” You lifted him up by snaking a strong arm around his hip and supporting his heavy upper body with your other arm. “You weren’t this big before.”

You spanked his ass one more time, watching the jiggly form recoil, until you held it firmly in your hand.

“Now, I’m sorry Binnie, but I can’t resist you.”

While holding him up, you slammed both of your bodies against the wall, making sure not to break the mirror behind Changbin or hurt him in the process. After realizing that it had only gotten his cock pulsating in his shorts, you made the wise decision to pull it down.

The yelp that Changbin let out was to die for.

You hastily pulled his shirt all the way up to his mouth, forcing him to bite onto the fabric as his belly and chest exposed themselves to you with the prettiest subtle bounces. They had been freshly worked out, skin glistening and glowing from his sweat. Each form of his pecs and the round firmness of his tummy was detailed enough to make you admire it even more than when it would naturally be while relaxed.

Every side of him was attractive, whether or not he worked out, but the view of his exposed body made your core tingle with delight.

Tracing a finger up his stomach, you felt up his skin until the dip of his chest. His cleavage was extra prominent, especially in the way you squeezed his body between your own and the wall. You played with the space before your fingers settled on pinching his nipple.

Of course, you were aware of his sensitivity around his chest, and that made you intentionally tease him even more.

Changbin let out a muffled cry, drool pooling in the fabric of his shirt where his mouth clamped on it. You still held him up, but this time, you adjusted your hold by throwing his leg up and over your arm. He shuddered at the action and then at the realization of what was to come.

Before he could even think, your finger dug into his exposed asshole, and prodded it open.

Changbin bit down and cried, writhing in your arm and attempting to grab anything. He settled on holding onto your shoulders as he felt your finger enter him even deeper.

His cock seemed to move painfully on its own. It twitched rapidly as the heavy dick was left unattended but his ass clenched around you in the same way.

Figuring that your boyfriend already had enough stimulation going on in your little game, you decided to make it worse by sucking on the nipple you pinched earlier.

At this point, Changbin’s mind had gone completely hazy, all thoughts fogged out as he could only focus on the pleasure on opposite ends of his body. Your tongue swirled around his hardened nipple as your lips sucked around the skin of his tit. Your finger was joined by another digit, slowly going as to let him adjust to the sensations. His prostate was getting violated, used, and abused, but it only spurred the both of you on to keep going.

And then you went merciless on him.

Your fingers curled against his sweet spot before getting pulled away, only to push back as soon as Changbin attempted to whine; his subconscious obedience proved itself to manifest as he dropped the bratty act and kept his mouth clamped around his shirt. He made muffled noise after muffled noise, tearing up and drooling, wishing for his cock to be satisfied. He was close, dangerously so, and you could feel it in the way his balls started to grow heavy against your wrist.

Denying him relief, you moved on to suck on his other nipple, picking up the pace in which you fingered your boyfriend.

He threw his head back against the mirror with a loud thud but he could care less. Your other arm’s hold around his body kept him in place but also flexed enough to make him feel all of you.

Maybe it was subconscious possessiveness. Maybe it was the need to keep his melting body up. Maybe it was the lone sensation of being surrounded by muscles and also being penetrated by muscles that made Changbin—

“No, you’re not cumming yet baby.”

Your lips left his chest with a pop and your big boyfriend ducked his head in response. You pulled the shirt off his mouth and dragged it down while your other arm set him down on the ground.

Still shaky, Changbin grew confused and frustrated — not at you, but at the denial of relief once more.

“Time to show your strength Bin. Show me what you got—”

Changbin hastily pinned your body to the mirror wall as well, breathing heavily while holding your body by the hip.

Just as you held him practically with one arm only, he did the same, this time using the other to pull your own bottoms down to reveal your ass.

“Please, Y/N, p-please, ‘m so needy.” Changbin was out of breath, brain still jumbled from being fucked mercilessly in the ass. “Can’t take…anymore…please, please…”

He mustered up every single bit in him to form sentences. The poor thing’s bicep wrapped around your ass as if he could never let you go. “Wanna fuck coach, please, let me fuck you.”

It would’ve been a grave sin to detach from you at any moment. His hunger for your body had grown past his primal instinct and now he had been craving you like crazy.

“What’s gotten you so horny?” You had to ask, shocked at the drooling, sweating, blushed-up mess of a man that you still proudly call yours.

“Couldn’t…stop staring at you. Since earlier. S-Since last night. Since yesterday. Couldn’t get my mind off you.” The words that fell from his mouth graced your ears as slowly as possible yet tasted sweeter than ever.

Praises and worship left his mouth at a rapid rate as he felt up your body lazily with his free hand. “You’re just…so strong…Y/N, you drive me crazy.” Changbin kissed any inch of skin he could get. “I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course. I love you too and you are mine.”

Your response made Changbin shiver, evident in the breathy whine he let out. “I promise I’ll be your baby b-bunny forever. Your strong bunny.” Your boyfriend shook as his mouth left love bites on your neck. “I’m obsessed with you, I love you, I love you, I—”

You shushed your boyfriend’s mindless mumbling with a deep kiss, one that Changbin had been craving for hours. He relished in anything that was you, felt like you, tasted like you, and he couldn’t bear to bring out the bratty act once you finally planted your lips on his.

Sighing into your mouth, he shuddered, leaning into your touch and pouting again to receive more of your love. You smiled in response, teasing ever so slightly, before returning the favor with a dart of your tongue.

Changbin’s arms shot up to hold onto you for support, the strong man crumbling under you. What was better was that you held him up, your own arms circling his body again, the grip from every inch of your body around his putting him steadily in his place.

Then you squeezed.

“Fuck, coach, you—” Then you pinned him down on the bench. “Y/N!”

“Hush, boy, aren’t you so excited?” You chuckled as you repositioned yourself and him. “Wanna fuck your coach so bad?”

“Please! Please, I tried to be good!”

Adjusting your hold on him, you gently laid him down on the bench and abandoned your bottoms completely. “Aw. Not so much of a brat now, are you?” You shuffled your hips to hover over his thick, desperate cock.

“Deep down you’re just a pathetic little boy, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” Changbin whimpered mindlessly. “Couldn’t be a brat!”

All you could do was laugh while lining up the entrance of your ass with his tip. “So why’d you try?”

“Because…” He choked on the lump in his throat.“Y-You’re so hot when you’re strict, Y/N…”

You shoved your ass down onto his cock in one fell swoop, enveloping your boyfriend whole.

It was known ever since the beginning that he loved anal; your first bit of sex in the very same gym was telling enough, but he loved giving and receiving in both ways. He loved the dirtiness but also the fact that the both of you prepare and clean yourselves well for it “just in case” it comes up.

This scene was one of those emergency moments that you were glad you both prepared for. Otherwise, you would’ve had the worst time adjusting to Changbin’s sheer girth.

His size was something he had never truly believed to be astounding, but even with your strength, you couldn’t help but lose a bit of yourself to it. The girth was to die for: even if his cock didn’t reach deep, it was heavy, loaded, and big enough to stretch your ass wide. As you lifted your ass before slamming it back down, the feeling of your behind being opened and filled despite the tightness felt amazing.

Changbin felt like crying at your first strokes. He always loved it when you two fucked or made love, but shit, he basically edged himself the whole time in the gym. He had never done such a thing, most especially while putting up a brat act, but every single morsel of thought flew right out of his head as your ass picked up the pace and took him whole.

Somehow, you’d both become sopping wet as you both met in the middle once, twice, thrice, four times — you’d lost count, unable to keep the seconds and rounds of body slamming as you would’ve earlier.

You couldn’t help but moan from the pleasure, making Changbin hold you using all of his limbs with the last bits of strength in him. The both of you knew that he wouldn’t last.

A heat was pooling in your stomach as well, sliding all the way down to your crotch just in front of your ass. While his cock hit the sweet spot in your hole over and over, you could feel your own orgasm building quickly alongside your boyfriend’s.

Neither of you could care less about the mess you were about to make.

Quickly picking up the pace, you slammed your hips down over and over again and pressed your hands against his chest, rubbing his nipples and soothing the sore muscle. The stimulation grew far too much and too fast, but Changbin was so lost in the ecstasy that he couldn’t complain, and he grew so physically tired that he couldn’t hold you off.

Despite the hurt in his cock he still didn’t want to stop you.

“S-So fucking…close…holy shit, Y/N, gonna cum!”

“Cum inside me,” you demanded.

Fully shaking, Changbin dug his fingers into your thighs with all his remaining might and held you in place, shooting load after load from his poor, aching cock deep into your plush walls.

He was so warm, his release filling you with a certain nastiness that you loved so much. You could tell how much he saved all of it from the amount he shot into you. It even started spilling despite the fact that you stilled in place, unable to move from the force of his hands pulling you down. Maybe his training on the pulldowns earlier helped him with it.

But you were both far from done.

You kissed Changbin on his plush lips and sighed in faux contentment. “Binnie baby, you filled me well…” He could only mouth “thank you” in reply.

Then you pulled his sore body up after pushing yourself off his sore cock. “But I want more.”

His eyes widened in a mix of surprise and fear at the prospect of you using his spent cock more than he intended. This might’ve been the punishment he wanted, but it was nothing like what he’d expected.

Making matters worse, you sat behind him and suddenly wrapped your arm around his neck. The other hand found his cock and both arms squeezed, locking Changbin in your hold.

The boy moaned the loudest he had ever done in his entire life.

“Gonna fuck you like this,” you said as you pumped his cock at a rapid pace, “I’ll milk you dry.”

Your words left Changbin gasping, moaning, whimpering, and whining like a trapped dog. The tears in his eyes flooded down as he struggled to adjust in your arms, but god, you were far stronger than you displayed earlier. He barely had any strength left to push you off, to wiggle out, to even form a coherent enough sentence or word.

Was it bad that he liked it this way?

Changbin could only tremble. He moaned your name deliciously over and over as your hand pumped his fat cock from the tip all the way down to his balls at a breakneck pace. You softened the headlock slightly to make him breathe, but the flexing of your forearm drove your boyfriend past the point of self-control. He was overstimulated in every single way.

Again, it was the strength display. The fact that you were putting such a huge man like him in his place. You rendered him unable to function, tired him out until he became putty in your arms, and now you had him caged like a real rat. You flexed your forearm again and Changbin let out a severely choked out whimper.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He came non-stop with his head rolled back to your shoulder, curly bangs covering the fucked-out face he gave you from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Overstimulation sent him over the edge though, making him cum again and again. You could even feel the vein on his cock pop and pulsate under your palm. The lone fact that it only seemed to soften after a few more shots of cum on Changbin’s own belly and on your hand made you feel powerful.

“My tamed brat, my good boy.”

The praise made Changbin see stars. You saw the hearts in his eyes as he struggled to look back at you.

Wholly dumb and unable to move, your boyfriend simply lay in your arms and you both sat there for a moment. You pet Changbin’s fluffy hair with one arm and rubbed his belly with the other, playing with the cum on his tummy before you two shifted in your seats.

A year or so ago, you two had been in the same dilemma and position as you were. You and Changbin were both sweaty and exhausted, his head rested on your shoulder, unable to move. The both of you relished in the glow of being fucked nasty in the gym with your clothes barely hanging onto your bodies, soiled with sweat and cum — it sounded disgusting, but it was the reality that you two had to face with your puffy cheeks.

Lord knows how agonizing the cleanup would’ve been if you weren’t going to do it with your boyfriend at least.

Guilty at the mess he made, Changbin kissed your face everywhere and mumbled to “take care of it” as he attempted to stand up — only to groan in pain after the soreness hit all of his muscles at once. You laughed and supported his weight with your own. Unable to register how you’re still managing, you guided him up and took mops, towels, and bottles of isopropyl alcohol.

Everyone knew you two were lovebirds, but nobody could use this room after you tainted it with an atmosphere of pure sin.

It’s funny though, you thought; Changbin’s goofy self returned in full force, albeit in a tired body, but still entertained you enough to keep your spirits up while cleaning the room. He hummed, giggled at you, nudged his face into your arm, and even sniffed at you as a joke.

It was your silly signal to take a break in a shower together within the adjacent locker rooms that, somehow, were empty then.

Perfectly enough, you two took a single stall together and showered together just as you two were accustomed to doing. This time was a little more special, the deja vu of the first meeting settling in as you happily scrubbed your boyfriend’s once-sweaty scalp. He was too tired to do it to himself he returned the favor by cleaning you too. The rest of the shower was quiet save for a few “I love you’s” and light chuckles.

He gave your back a peck before drying it, relishing in your natural scent and the aroma of the post-shower lotion. You dressed him up in your extra clothes the same way that he dressed you up too, feeling at home even in a slightly public space.

Home was wherever Changbin was, in the same way, you were his home as well.

Back to the reality of the messy room, you handed him a mop and he grimaced.

“Hey, Y/N, slap my wrist next time I try to act bratty. That’s not really me.”

Your reaction must’ve been funny, as your face earned Changbin a hearty giggle.

“Then who might this just-as-handsome asshole-ish guy be?”

“I’m thinking Changbin would be a fitting name.”

“Ew.” You grimaced in the same way he did earlier. “And you should be jealous of him?”

“Nah. ‘Cause I know you love The Seo Changbin only.”

You snorted at him and threatened to swipe his leg with the mop. He laughed and snorted back. He liked the idea of poking fun at you with his own name so much that he pulled it thrice.

“Say, I owe you dinner tonight, right bun?” He huddled closer to you, the comfortable distance only growing warmer. It was touching to know that he remembered your silly claim from earlier, softening your heart. You got excited to listen as his ideas for hearty food were always right, a privilege you unlocked by having a lifestyle journalist wrapped around your finger.

“Mhmm. Gotta heal from that ass-kicking I gave you.” You bumped the side of your hip onto him, but he blushed as the slight memory of half an hour ago flashed before his eyes.

“Anyway! I know a cozy restaurant just downtown that serves banger seafood. It’s the side branch of that beachside bar I told you about.” Changbin went on to describe his recommendation.

Your eyes lit up at the idea. “Wow, your lifestyle writing really takes you places, huh?”

“Yeah, but actually,” Changbin raised his index finger, “I discovered it through my side gig’s talent, Chan—I mean CB.”

You paused and raised an eyebrow back. “…Interesting. Tell me about it.”

“How about I just show you?”

As if on cue, you both heard a punch, then a comically loud groan that sounded like Minho. Following it was an even louder apology from Chris. The other end of the gym must’ve been busier than you two, you thought.

The laughs that escaped both of your chests filled the air of the private room. It was one of many beats in your relationship that you shared with him often but it’s still an unconfined joy to have with him. You could live in the banter and tiny conversations forever, even the bratty behavior he displayed only cemented how much you loved the man even if he made your heart burn and filled your ass up.

Brats used to be off-limits until you brought him to his limit, and now it’s all you could ever think about.

Changbin expected punishment but only got rewarded with your love and warmth in the end. It’s a mission he successfully failed and a game you aimlessly won.

As you two walked out of the fitness center, wobbling in your steps back to the car, you fought over who’d be the driver. You won again, and Changbin fell asleep angelically in the backseat. At least then you’d wake him up with the hearty meal he recommended.

Even after all this time, your client — and boyfriend — never changed the love he had, has, and always will have for you. He might as well renew his gym subscription under your name even after the gym closes.

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @turnipfizzle @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @starryoong @bbyquokka @abiaswreck @suengmi @fun-fanfics @fairylouist + @stupidshitsworld @compersian @skz-hell @certifiedwootiny @xcookiemonsteer @lino-jagiyaa @imrllytootiredforthis @straykidsholicleigh @wonhosmistress @fruitcakebin @jisvngc0re1 @silentreadersthings

very special mentions to @meivida for proofreading and editing my fic (and for indulging in my nonsense). please wish them good health this year!

header art is mine! have a great new year everybody :))

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!changbin #dom!reader #stray kids smut #changbin smut #💬 z is writimg

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restlesswritingss · 5 months

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In which Astarion's plan gets derailed

Warnings: Themes of sexual abuse both for Tav and Astarion, this fic deals with dark backstory and heavy trauma. Please do not read if you aren't able but it isn't a dark romance!

A/N: I wanted to write about Astarion x a Tav who has also been sexually abused for personal reasons. I tried to handle it with care but I am just a novice writer.

Astarion hadn’t expected you to turn him down for sex, and he really hadn’t expected the way fear flashed in your eyes at the mention of it. He felt the familiar feeling of self disgust but in a new way. Your pulse quickened and your pupils dilated but not because you wanted him, and he felt genuinely bad he’d misread your relationship. You’d seemed attracted to him. You were embarrassed and bashful about it in a way that endeared him to you, if only slightly.

He had thought your red face and wandering eyes had meant you desired him but apparently not.

“I, I, I -“, you stammered clearly fighting some instinct that he recognized immediately.

You didn’t know how to say no. He knew the feeling well and it put a lump in his chest to know you seemed to as well.

He put a hand on your arm and you flinched but didn’t move away. “My dear, forget I ever said anything. I seem to have misread our interactions. Fear not, I’ll nurse my bruised ego and be back to my usual charming and egotistical self by tomorrow. Let’s just pretend this never happened.”

Now sadness clouded your eyes, at first he prickled that it was pity but no, it was just sadness. What had he said wrong now?

You frowned and took your time to reply, Astarion let you as he hung onto any word or attention you would give him in this moment. You'd always intrigued him in an insatiable way.

“Astarion, I do feel that way about you. I just,” you took a deep breath to center yourself before spitting out, “I’ve never been with someone because I wanted to before. And I don’t think I’m the kind of person you’d want to bed.”

Your voice went quiet and small at the last sentence. Astarion released his hand on you, a gesture you misread as disgust in you as what you said sank in. Things, facts about you and gestures he’d observed clicking into place at this new piece of information.

You’d mentioned coming from a seedy part of Baldur’s Gate. A red lights district.

You bit your lip and looked down, shame coloring your cheeks as you knew he was remembering where you were from, “I was able to get out, but I came from a brothel. I grew up working there.”

The implication in your words set waves of anger roiling through Astarion.

“You grew up working there? Since what age?” Astarion hadn’t been able to keep the anger out of his voice and it raised an octave.

You took a step back, clearly reading his emotions at being directed towards you again.

He was quick to check himself, steeling his features and taking a deep breath to calm down, "My dear, why would you think I of all people would ever judge you for that?"

He'd told you pieces of Cazador forcing him to use his body, you'd seemed to instantly understand his vague implications more than he'd wanted you to and now he truly knew why. You were a kindred spirit in that regard. The thought made him want to pull you into his arms, a feeling he'd never really felt before.

Confusion at his words twisted your pretty features, “Why wouldn't you? I was born there, my whole life has been sleeping with any and every client they threw at me."

You weren't looking at him anymore, your face cast down as you added meekly, "But I never liked doing it."

Your words threw him, this wasn't how the night was supposed to go. He hadn't wanted to open up to you about his own past before he'd been able to bed you, or at all, but his plan had been thrown. You'd put yourself out on a ledge opening up to him in this way and he didn't want you to be out there alone.

He found himself being vulnerable without truly thinking about it, making you feel better was all that was on his mind as he said, "I spent centuries using my body to lure back any pretty thing my master desired. But I did what I had to, just as I know you did as well. Trust me, if there is anyone who could never judge you for coming from a brothel, it's me."

Astarion watched as the full picture came into your mind on just what he'd spent 200 years under Cazador doing.

Now you reached out to touch his arm. It was the first time he'd told anyone this but it felt right that it was you. Your touch didn't make him flinch like he thought it would. He didn't seethe under the sorrow in your gaze because it wasn't pity. You knew how he felt and he only saw sorrow that he had also experienced it in your eyes.

"I still don't think you'd want to lie with me if you knew everything I'd done over the decades I was there. I, I also don't know how to navigate wanting someone this way, the way I want you," You kept your gaze steady but your voice wobbled at your confession.

Astarion thought he'd feel triumphant at you confessing your desire for him, and a little disgusted as always, but he only felt warmth at the knowledge of your feelings towards him. Your gaze wasn't just lustful, it was earnest and dare he say, loving. But it wasn't directed towards him, it was directed towards the mask and performance he'd put on for you. He found himself curiously wishing your confession was for the real him but he didn't even know who that was anymore. Not someone worth that look in your eyes, that was for sure.

Astarion was usually calculated in his seduction, and he should have been more so with this new knowledge of you, but he found himself speaking without thinking, "May I kiss you? We don't have to go any further, but you deserve to be kissed by someone who truly cares for you."

Your mouth ticked up at that and teasing entered your voice, "And is that someone perchance you?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but it held no real malice and just served to make you giggle. An accomplishment he relished in.

Astarion put one hand on your face, cupping your delicate cheek. He ran his thumb over the high of you cheek bone, tracing the blush that had formed from his actions. It was a practiced move but he found himself not going through the motions. He was just following his heart's desire, a strange thing for one such as him.

He leaned in slowly to give you ample time to stop him. You still hadn't verbally said he could kiss you but he saw in your gaze that you wanted it but the words would be hard. He understood not trusting your own desire. He couldn't trust his right now as it called for him to run his hands up and down your delicious body as he plunged his tongue into your mouth to explore. Instead, he kept the kissed closed mouth. It was a gentle press as well but you closed your eyes and sighed into it.

He only pulled away because he couldn't take it. You were so sweet, he could just eat you right up. But that would take much more work. In the back of his mind a voice told him it would clearly be easier to seduce one of your other companions and way less time. He found himself willing to put in the effort for you. All for the sake of his plan of course.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #me: ill write more for astarion if people want #me: *gets 50 notes on my previous work about me* well I guess its what the people want!

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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Something to Fight For (Epilogue) Dad!Joel x f!Reader

Something to Fight For: Epilogue

Warnings: Tooth-rottingly sweet epilogue.

Words: 5.3

a/n: I dragged y’all through angsty hell and I PROMISED I would deliver a happy ending and imo it don’t get much happier than this! Now, if you're sad this is over I understand. Nice thing is, I got vignettes happening featuring the characters in this story. Some of 'em sweet, some spicy, some funny. I can't say goodbye to these characters or this world quite yet. So I'm not gonna. And if you want, you're always welcome to request a scene you'd like to see in the comments! I love hearing what you want to see! And I got heaps of other writing, but if you like this sweeter sort I recommend: “Bravo! Take a Bow” and “Losing our Minds Together”

I thank every single one of you out there that read this story and left a review because it really feels like we built a community here in the comment section. I'm gonna miss seein' y'all here. Hopefully you stick around while I keep writing, but if not I am so glad we could share this online moment together. Thank you for making this fanfic author a happy gal. I'm gettin' choked up here so I'll stop and we can get on to seeing our sweet idiots in love.

Oh and please review, reblog, etc cuz it makes me smile.

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You walk into life on Rancher Street as naturally as if you've always been a fixture there. You think this is borne from a routine the three of you slipped into without thinking.

Mornings are coffee and cereal (Joel's banana pancakes on the weekends), then it's getting ready, brushing Sarah's hair, packing leftovers into cartoon lunch bags (for Sarah) and brown paper bags (for you and Joel).

You're dropped off first; your work is on the way to the school. Its kisses for both of their sweet smiling faces and then you're thrust into the world of animal rescue. Joel drives Sarah to school next, holding her hand until they reach her classroom where he kisses her forehead and tells her to "learn lots" before handing her off to her new first grade teacher.

He drives to Tommy at whatever site they're working at. The days are long, but punctuated with texts from you. Most are funny, some sweet. Occasionally Joel tries to write back but when he really wants to interact with you he just excuses himself and calls you. Hearing your voice always makes him smile in that dreamy, crooked way that has Tommy giving him shit the rest of the day.

At five promptly Joel returns to pick you up with Sarah buckled in her car seat smiling up at you. His heart jumps every time you come through the door, eyes bright and smiling as you jog over. He holds back the urge to kiss you senseless, restraining you both to a quick peck and then drives his girls home.

Dinner is done by Joel unless you've offered (which you rarely do because cooking is a drag). Instead you help Sarah set the table and the meal is spent listening to Sarah talk about her day and the animals that you’ve helped to rescue.

After dinner Sarah goes to play with her toys or watch a DVD while you tidy up. Joel sits with his coffee in his favorite green mug at the counter, eyes on you and chatting as you do the dishes. He always tries to help at first but you always remind him that he did the cooking and that you want to keep things fair.

This is when you both talk about everything and anything. Work, movies you want to see, plans for the weekend, philosophical questions (you've both decided that you'd rather fight one horse sized duck versus a thousand duck sized horses, for example). Joel is hard to get information out of. He isn't used to talking about himself, but you urge him to do so. He thinks his job is boring but you're fascinated by controlling clients and his keen mind when problem solving an issue at a job site.

Sometimes Sarah turns the volume of the TV up really high during these times and Joel has to yell over the noise at her to turn it down, smiling and shaking his head. It's one of your favorite parts about being here. There's always noise in the background, either a television or laughter. Your home had been so quiet, so empty, you'd just never realized

The other favorite part is how Joel always finds ways to touch you. Subtle things like a hand trailing over your lower back as you wash the dishes, nestling his shoulder against yours as you watch television together, laughing and hip checking you gently as he passes you in the hallway.

The only thing not perfect (at least for Joel) is the odd evening when you leave to go back to Maria's basement suite. He doesn't call the old suite your home because as far as he's concerned this is your home.

His stomach always drops when he sees you've gathered your purse in your hands, ready to leave. Joel usually walks you to your car, but some nights he stops you both at the front door, bringing you into his arms and kissing you deeply.

"I should go Joel," you tell him as he holds you, his mouth moving from your lips to your jaw, kissing that spot behind your ear that has you whimpering and your legs buckling. "Still have stuff there."

"Please stay," Joel murmurs against your mouth, hands wrapped around your waist as he presses into you against the wall. "Just a little longer."

Sometimes (often) this works. Your resolve breaks under his sweet mouth and hands and on these nights you wrap your legs around his waist and allow him to carry you back to the bedroom.

These nights he spends hours making love to you until you're too exhausted to leave. These nights Joel likes best because you linger in his arms and in his bed until the morning, the scent of your perfume on his pillow and sheets until you return that evening.

"Love having you here," Joel sleepily murmurs into your hair, kissing you awake one morning. "When are you just gonna move in?"

Still half asleep in his bed you stretch, snuggling up against him and sighing into the crook of his neck. "Whenever you want, baby."

Joel wants you there all the time. He wants Sarah to know that you're there; he doesn't want to hide you. But you're tentative, nervous that this all feels too good too fast. You ask that Sarah not know that you're spending the night, not just yet. She knows that you’re daddy’s girlfriend, but that’s all you want her to know right now.

You pretend to arrive in the mornings, making a show of ringing the doorbell and smirking as Joel welcomes you in, his eyes amused.

Despite the occasional seduction, Joel understands and he lets you go at your own pace. He agrees to what makes you feel comfortable.

But he loves when you arrive with a new cardboard box of your stuff from Maria's. He sees the blush across your cheek as he excitedly takes it from you, asking where this one will go. Most of its clothes and those boxes are promptly brought to the bedroom and unpacked into the closet. Seeing your blouses hung next to his button ups makes him feel good.

Week by week more of your things are brought over until one day there's nothing left for you at Maria's except for your bed, dresser and sofa. You tell him as much over a late night snack of chocolate pudding after Sarah has been put to bed.

"Pretty much everything I need is here."

Joel makes note of this, his heart hammering in his chest as he reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out the key he got cut.

“You’ll need this, then.”

He slides it across the counter with his forefinger, his eyes not leaving your face as he does. He sees the surprise there, the widening of your eyes.

"You have a lot of keys to your house just lying around?" You joke, feeling your heart race.

"Nah, got this one cut the day after the wedding," Joel murmurs. "Thought you'd need it sooner or later."

He loves seeing you blush, especially when you do that shy smile of yours.

When you look uncertain later that night in bed next to him, fingers twisting together anxiously Joel notices, lowering his book to glance at you.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you really okay with me moving in here?" You ask with a furrowed brow. "It's not too soon?"

Joel's mouth over yours is all the answer you need. But he's so delighted by your potential move in that he'd already launched into an outline of what to do with your furniture.

"We could sell your sofa and bed. I know a guy who needs a sofa. Only 'cuz my stuff is bigger and already here, but I don't want you feelin' like this isn't your house too so maybe we should-"

Kissing is the second best way to stop Joel Miller from rambling. The first is climbing on top of him and urging him inside of you, languidly bringing you both to orgasm.

You do both just to be safe.

The things left at Paul's had been clothing and a few personal items. You considered leaving it, but decide in the end that you shouldn't have to.

Your small pile of cardboard boxes are left outside his old apartment. He's sure not to be in said apartment when Joel goes with you to retrieve them.

You'd ridden over in Joel's truck, the day punctuated by an unexpected silence with Joel's protective hand over your knee. He'd loaded the boxes alongside you, his face tight. With every box retrieved from Paul's place Joel grew more and more miserable.

He hadn't responded to your gentle teasing as you both worked, had turned down your idea of going out for lunch, and had been all over a grumpy bastard.

When you'd loaded everything and were driving home Joel's hand had flown back to your knee, grip just as tight as before. When you finally questioned him about his bizarre behavior his dark eyes had been hard.

"The boxes and Paul," Joel winces, eyes fixed on the road. "Just reminded me how close I was to losin' you."

You make him pull over right then and there so you can crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you so tightly to him you feel breathless.

"You'll never lose me, Joel," you whisper against his neck. "Never."

When you make love that evening your fingers linger on his cheeks as you stare into his eyes and the words you whisper as he fills you are of the love you have for him, the longing for this life you held for so long within you.

As you both begin to drift off, tangled together under the sheets you press a kiss to that patch in his beard that doesn't quite grow.

"I'm not going anywhere, Joel. I'm done running."

///

You miss having an office space like your studio had. A little area for just you to organize your thoughts and work. But it's a small price to pay because you like existing on Rancher Street. You've enjoyed every day of the last three months.

It feels like home when you're there and not because of the structure but the two figures inside. Home isn't a place, you've come to realize, its people. Joel and Sarah.

Evening rituals are the same as when you babysat. Picking out books as Sarah slips into bed smelling of toothpaste and the hair cream Joel massages into the curls under her favorite purple bonnet. You smiling at her while she snuggles down under the covers, propping toad up next to her so he can see the pictures in the books.

"Okay we're ready."

The only difference is that Joel is there too, bending down to kiss his daughter's cheek and murmuring a low "G'night babygirl. Sweet dreams. Love you."

She gives him a sweet 'I love you' back, kissing his lightly bearded cheek. If Joel takes too long to leave, getting distracted by the sight of you gathering books or just wanting to linger, Sarah is prone to shooting him a silent look that communicates: okay, I love you dad, now please leave.

He always does. Because reading before bed is your special time, just the two of you. Joel used to do it on the nights you weren't there, but now you are there every single night his services are no longer necessary.

Joel's qualities are better served in the kitchen, you and Sarah decide as you watch her drawing on the sidewalk with the chalk you've just bought.

"Daddy's a better cook than you."

She says it thoughtfully and without malice as she draws a lopsided flower.

"Yes," you agree with a nod, making a star pattern nearby. "Much better. I think he puts love in his food. I just use salt."

But the ever empathetic Sarah is quick to point out your many virtues as well. The main one of course being your stellar reading ability and your stories in general.

So every single night Joel stands there outside Sarah's room, arms folded and shoulder tilted against the hallway wall, his cheek facing the half closed door of his daughter.

There he listens to the two of you giggling or you reading the book Sarah has picked from your pile (Sarah's right, you're very good at doing the voices), the gentle murmurs of 'I love you" thrown back between you two and those sounds wind around Joel's heart in a way he never knew just sounds could.

He's so fucking happy.

And when you finally creep out, quietly closing the door behind you and shooting him a pleased smile, Joel is always there to grip you by the hand and drag you to your shared bedroom down the hall.

Rarely do the two of you make it to the bed with all your clothes on because Joel has many virtues outside of the kitchen as well.

///

Joel watches you give a frustrated sigh, frowning at the laptop on the kitchen table before putting your face in your hands.

"Everything okay?"

"Just this fu- darn sanctuary project," you self correct, remembering a listening Sarah sitting across from you.

Sarah has a piece of paper she has drawn to look like a laptop and she pretends to clack away on it when you do on yours. Joel sits next to you, his knee brushing yours as you complain.

"Alex's contact said she could get the supplies at cost and he was supposed to get back to me but he hasn't and now the landscaping guy is saying -" you pause, realizing Joel's eyes have taken on a dreamy, faraway look. “-And you're not even listening to me, are you Miller?"

He gives you a guilty look. "Nope."

You give a sharp laugh at his honesty, leaning over and shoving his shoulder with yours affectionately.

"Hey, I really wanna show you somethin'," Joel says with a hint of excitement in his dark brown eyes, a window into the boy he must have been. "C'mon. Both of you."

You follow him down the steps to the basement, to Tommy's old place, your hand wrapped around Sarah's. You both follow him towards the large door separating the areas, watching his broad shouldered walk, the excitement in his rapid footsteps.

At the door there he spins with a small anticipatory smile on his handsome face.

"I thought this would be a good place to have for an office," Joel explains shyly pointing to the door behind him.

You smile up at him, delighted that he thought of you needing one. He pushes open the door for you, his eyes on your face as he does.

Balloons.

Hundreds of colorful balloons take up almost the entire main room of the basement.

Sarah doesn't wait for you, she runs in headfirst giggling and shrieking, her arms open wide.

You walk into the basement in a daze, your eyes owlish as you take in this prism of color, feeling the balloons brush your skin, the awe-inspiring sensation of being surrounded in a rainbow. You laugh, it bursts from you.

You can see that the space beyond the balloons has been transformed into an office, complete with built in bookcases and a custom desk under the window. You trace a hand along the desk before being swept up in the color of the balloons and Sarah's contagious laughter.

Joel is standing there just outside the door, his eyes bright as he watches the two loves of his life laughing and tossing up the colorful balloons.

Sarah kicks at them with vigor, her head thrown back in laughter at the squeaks they emit when knocked about.

Joel looks to you, expecting the same behavior and pausing when he sees how you're now standing there looking at him with damp eyes. The balloons float between you, falling to block his eyes as you approach.

"Joel."

"Mmm?"

"Get in here," you order gently, your finger curling around his collar as you gently tug him in encouragement. You can't move him of course, but he grins widely, nodding and stepping into the color with you.

For a moment neither of you speaks. All you can see is Joel and the balloons that seem to surround you on all sides, the colors framing his beautiful face. You can hear Sarah's distant laughter.

Then Joel smiles in that sweet, open way of his. You look down when you feel his hand taking yours and see a diamond ring being slipped onto your fourth finger. You stare at it in amazement before your gaze meets his. In his deep brown eyes you see a future so beautiful you never could have imagined it. What you don’t know is that when Joel looks into your eyes he sees exactly the same.

"Will you ma-"

"Yes," you breathe without letting him finish, your hands coming to either side of his jaw. He pulls you into his arms grinning before his mouth is on yours, gentle and sweet. You know that your eyes are wet and you know that on your deathbed this will be one of those moments that comes to you, comforting you.

You pull back and look around at all the balloons, the color and you smile broadly through the tears.

"Couldn't wait for your birthday," Joel murmurs against your cheek. "Hope that's okay."

"Yeah," you say curling your arms around his neck. "It's okay."

You don't mind at all.

///

"Shit, did you feed the cat?"

"Daddy you said sh-"

"I know babygirl," Joel says rubbing the back of his neck as Sarah looks to him with a chastised look. "Was wrong of me. Daddy just doesn't want to find another hairball in his shoe. "

Jam, your orange tabby kitten is not really yours at all. Despite being brought home for you, Jam quickly decided that Sarah with her warm bed and shirts covered in food crumbs was a much better companion than you. You don't mind though, seeing how much Sarah loves the cat is enough for you.

"I fed him," you say giggling as the three of you make your way up the drive. The whole gang has been invited to Frank and Bill's for a Sunday lunch. You see them quite often despite living on Rancher Street full time.

They often encourage you to bring Sarah and you do without hesitation. She loves Bill and Frank just as much as you do. She loves painting with Uncle Frank and baking with Uncle Bill. She loves that their house smells like cinnamon in the winter and fresh flowers in the summer.

Despite living right next door, Maria and Tommy arrive late with cornbread and lemonade, but are given a reprieve when Maria shares that she took so long getting ready because "morning sickness makes it hard to feel cute."

Joel had hugged Tommy so tightly you were sure you heard bones cracking. You had just cried, throwing your arms around Maria, careful not to squeeze. Sarah asked to feel the baby and Maria told her it was a bit too early to feel much, but she still let her niece gently stroke her swelling belly.

"I think it's gonna be a boy," Maria told you sagely over lemonade at the table. "A mother knows."

You smile, thinking of a little mix of Maria and Tommy in the vision of a little baby boy. Your eyes sail over to Joel, watching as he chats with Jackson and Tommy. You wonder what it would be like if you had a kid. Who would it take after?

You’re distracted by this idea when Sarah and Bill bring out the dessert, followed by Frank with the coffee. The cupcakes are decorated to resemble beautiful flowers and you all wait as Sarah picks the perfect one for each of you. A daisy for Sarah, a lily each for Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy, a purple rose for Daddy, a peony for Frank and a forget-me-not for Bill and finally Sarah smiles at the pink carnation she labored the longest over with Bill. Sarah immediately cites that this one belongs to you.

"That one," Sarah says pointing, watching as Bill pushes the plated cupcake in your direction. "Do you like that one, Mama?"

Joel's hand that's been absently rubbing along your spine stills when he hears that. His attention goes to your face, seeing the way your eyes have gotten wide. Mama.

You feel your breath catch in your chest as she calls you this, her tiny face turned up and smiling at you. You don't want to embarrass her, don't want to draw attention to the fact that she's called you Mama.

She did it so casually, so naturally that a part of you is worried she didn't even realize she'd done it. If you draw attention to it you're scared there's a chance that she'll take it back.

"I love it," you whisper, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, bug."

You kiss her again, feeling tears prick your eyes when Joel's hand skates to the small of your back, squeezing softly. Maria and Tommy are wet-eyed, and share a soft smile before turning their attention to their cupcakes. Frank sniffles, pretending he’s just about to sneeze. You catch Bill’s eyes across the table and when you see them glossy and that’s what makes the tears spill over your lash line.

"Why are you crying?" Sarah asks, her head cocked to the side. She can’t understand why everyone suddenly got so quiet.

"I'm not," you insist. "Just allergies."

Sarah is satisfied or maybe just relieved with this answer and she and clamors onto the chair next to you, ready to dig into her own cupcake. She leans companionably against you, starting to tell Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy about the class hamster.

You feel Joel's kiss on your temple and you turn to see his eyes damp like yours.

"Mama," you whisper to him. "I'm Mama."

////////

3 years later

Joel is at your side, whispering how strong you are, how beautiful, but all you want to do is punch him.

Hard.

"You did this to me!" You say through clenched teeth as a wave of painful cramping goes through you. Your head falls back onto the damp hospital pillow.

"If I recall it was a very mutual decision," Joel insists with a wry smile. His mouth goes to your ear and his voice drops to a deliciously low timbre only you can hear. "The words 'fuck me pregnant' were a direct quote by you, were they not?"

You don't answer him on that. Not just because he's right, but because a stab of pain is going through your pelvis that takes your breath away.

St. David's is a very fine hospital with very fine people but at this moment everything is not fucking fine. You feel like you've been split in half by a fucking axe.

"Doing so good, baby," Joel croons, wiping the damp hair from your forehead and temples as he watches the doctor and nurses at your feet. "Keep going, keep going."

For a delirious moment you think that it was Joel saying these exact words that got you pregnant in the first place and you let out a high pitched laugh as Joel looks to you in concern.

"Push," the doctor says, breaking into your foggy brain. And so you do. As you have been doing for the last three fucking hours.

You grit your teeth, feeling Joel's mouth on your temple whispering words of encouragement and you push. You push with everything you have and then...

There is a pause and then the loud braying sound of a newborn's cry. The doctor's voice behind the mask rings out.

"It's a girl!"

A sister for Sarah, just like she'd wanted.

A second daughter for you and Joel.

You look over to see Joel's dark eyes shimmering with tears and you feel you've never been so in love with him as you are in this moment. You burst into tears, your face wet as Joel kisses you.

"You're amazing," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Fucking amazing."

The nurse brings over a pink faced infant with a shock of dark brown hair. She is pink all over and her little face is scrunched up as she wails. You take her into your arms, marveling at how you and Joel made the little creature you're now holding. She's so warm and she smells so good.

You glance over at Joel, recalling all the nights spent with his hand curving over your belly, murmuring soft sweet things to your daughter as she grew there. You think of when you both sang together, your hand carding through his hair and his eyes on you. You remember how on the days she felt really jumpy, all it would take is Joel singing a few bars from a song and she would quiet right down.

Now Joel's finger goes to trace the slope of her tiny nose and you smile as she quiets down, grunting. Seems he has a soothing effect on her outside the womb as well.

"She's so fucking perfect."

"Hopefully she doesn't swear as much as her parents," Joel says as he presses his lips to your temple.

You giggle at that, pulling her back so you can see your daughter's sweet face. The wailing has subsided and she gives little grunts as she tries to open her eyes.

"Hi Ellie," you coo. "We're your parents."

/////

Four years after your first meeting, Joel Miller sits across from you in the very booth you had your disastrous blind date on. It's become a sort of tongue in cheek tradition, to have you all back to where it began.

Only this booth is far more crowded than it ever was then. A very pregnant Maria slides in next to you, looking every bit the beautiful goddess she always does. Tommy and their son slip into the opposite side beside Joel, saying their hellos.

"They're so cute," Maria coos as she watches Sarah give Ellie a toy to play with before going back to her puzzle book.

"Sarah loves being a big sister," you smile softly.

"Tell that to Jackson would you?" Maria says rolling her eyes at her eldest child who is obsessed with his game boy. "He seems to think that this new baby means the beginning of the end."

"He's been an only child for so long he doesn't want to share you," you insist. But you can't help but feel secretly lucky that your daughter's had an immediate connection.

Even when pregnant, Sarah had talked to the baby in your belly, she'd even helped pick out her sisters name. At this moment Sarah is curled up next to you on her seat, pencil in hand and her eyes focused on her latest obsession.

Toad has been replaced by puzzle books (though you still find him under her pillow most nights) and her new favorite color is green. She's wearing green head to toe tonight including the green barrettes in her hair. She's like a slender blade of grass with wild hair and big, hazel eyes.

And while much about Sarah has changed, she still smiles when you and her father kiss, she still wows you with knowledge beyond her years and she still plays with the ends of your hair when she's anxious or distracted. Oh and she still loves you to death.

You sling an arm around her, your eyes on the menu before traveling up to watch Joel across from you. He's looking at Ellie in her booster seat next to him, babbling incoherently as most toddlers do.

Ellie is a daddy's girl though and through, obsessed with Joel the minute she laid eyes on him. It's now to the point where if she starts crying most mornings you simply glance his way. He always gives a grumpy frown before you see the smile peeking through as he goes to retrieve her from her crib.

He's smiling broadly at her now, his finger tracing down her nose as she gurgles. Something he’s done since she was born. There's something about seeing Joel Miller, all broad shoulders and inherent masculinity, being so soft that makes you love him harder.

Sometimes when you're watching him play with your daughters or watching him cook you all dinner, you feel this overwhelming love for Joel that's almost incapacitating.

He seems to sense your gaze because his eyes travel over to you. He gives you a playful wink.

"You look great tonight," Joel says with eyes that linger on your décolletage.

"Thanks," you say taking an equally appreciative look at your husband. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

More than pretty well. Joel Miller is, as Frank had once told you, sex on legs, and you have to agree with the assessment. His linen shirt is rolled to the elbows, showing off his muscled forearms. His hair is brushed back from his face and he's wearing his glasses as he reads the menu. (Something he only does when desperate as you’d found out when living with him).

Joel wets his lower lip without thinking, his eyes drifting back down the front of your dress. Maria and Tommy are helping Jackson decide on what to order for dinner, distracted from your end of the table.

"You keep looking at me like that, Miller and we're gonna wind up with another kid," you murmur with a smirk, knowing Sarah's not paying attention.

"I'm not opposed to that," Joel says, his gaze heated.

"That's because you don't have to carry or pop them out," you reply with a good-natured roll of your eyes. "Just get to do the fun part."

Joel grins as you tilt over the table to fix the bow in Ellie's hair that your mother sent you. Ellie gurgles happily at you, smacking her tiny fists on the table. Joel takes this as an opportunity to not very covertly ogle your chest.

"Joel," you hiss, even though a smile is breaking out over your features. Joel tries to look innocently up at you, brows raised.

“Yeah baby?”

You want to be irritated, but he knows very well you love it.

"I don't know this one, Mama," Sarah says pointing to something on the page in her puzzle book. She's normally very independent so you know she must be really stuck. You glance over at the crossword clue.

"A six lettered spore producer," you read aloud and think for a moment. "Fungus?"

"That fits," Sarah enthuses, her pencil writing hurriedly.

"Speaking of which, I'll have the mushroom ravioli," you say as your server comes to take your order. Joel orders his chicken penne and Sarah's spaghetti and then his hand comes to fall on yours as the server takes the rest of the orders for the table.

His hand is heavy and warm, but that's nothing compared to the warmth of his eyes. It's the kind of look you associate with deep thinking, his "dreamy stare" as you've coined it.

"What are you thinking about, Miller?'

"Just that I never thought I'd be married to the same woman who screamed at me in the parking lot of this very restaurant."

You giggle behind your wineglass, watching Joel's eyes go soft.

"Or how happy I'd be."

He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing gently. He holds you there, watching as you stare back at him with eyes so full of love you're shocked Cupid himself hasn't come to give you his job.

You begin to smirk when Joel's dark eyes drop to your chest and then dart back to your face.

"I was also thinking about how three is a very nice number. . ."

446 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 8 months

Text

nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

you won't think golf is a boring sport after he's done with you! (but it's not about golf, and it's not about swings. just a young heir with money, love, and a thing for you.)

▷ genre, warnings. technically s2l, country club au, summer break au, starts with him already into you, slight pining? idk, fluff, humor, rich people™, golf lol, swearing, drinking, kissing, it gets like actually romantic, Eric Sohn bc he's so attractive someone help me.

▷ word count. 11.4k

▷ inspired by swing my way (cha cha malone & phe r.e.d.s)

a/n: my submission for the deoboyznet summer on you event! and @mosviqu who implanted the idea of country club rich boy eric into my brain @@

It wasn't like Eric Sohn, heir to his parents' multi-million dollar investment firm, prized shortstop of the UCLA baseball team, planned to spend his entire summer charming his parents' clients and partners. A summer spent at the Beverly Hills Country Club wasn't something new for the young heir either. The rolling, emerald green hills for golf; the clean cement tennis courts; the dim and classy bars were all ingrained in him since childhood. They were environments Eric had learned to thrive in, and when one had the advantage, one was always taught to wield it like a blade.

At least, that was what he was taught. Over the years, he'd also learned that his extroverted personality and charming smile were disarming—and his pretty boy appearance often resulted in others underestimating him. That was their mistake.

"...that trip to Taiwan will be such a great opportunity to explore the relationship between our companies."

Eric clasped Mr. Thomas Tsaur's hand in a firm shake as the two men stood at the final hole of the golf course. Eric beamed. "Yes, of course! I know my mom would love to see the night markets around Taipei; my parents have been looking forward to the trip all year," he said, as easy as breathing air. Of course, he didn't really know if his parents were looking forward to it. If he was the one on his way to Taiwan instead, he knew that he himself would be ecstatic.

During business meetings—and meetings that weren't officially classified as business, but were definitely about business—Eric tried to stay as true to himself as possible. Once in a while, some of the persona he'd built up slipped through the cracks, but there was a reason he liked baseball more than business.

Mr. Tsaur made a pleasant reply back about promising a fun-filled tour of the city with his wife, and the two of them were splitting up. There were offhanded comments about seeing each other for dinner when Eric's parents finally arrived, but that was all that was left of the interaction.

Eric jogged down the hill toward the conventional path where a white-topped golf cart sat waiting for him. His driver and caddy companion for the day was Jacob Bae, a regular worker here at the country club whom Eric had known for at least a couple years now.

But instead of just Jacob and the cart, Eric found that someone else had joined the group.

You sat in the second row of the golf cart with a circular serving tray pressed over your lap. Like some of the other staff members at the club, you wore the standard black, collared shirt and black skort. He'd seen you around this place plenty of times this summer and even greeted you once or twice, but he knew you were new.

Oh, trust that he knew a new face when he saw one, especially when said face was as pretty as yours. The only shame was that you were often assigned to areas where Eric didn't exactly frequent, but he never took himself as the type to give up easily.

You and Jacob were sharing a laugh as Eric approached the golf cart with his golf putter in hand. "Hey guys," Eric chirped.

All the attention flickered over to Eric, but he couldn't stop staring at the way the slight breeze this afternoon was making your hair fall in your face all pretty. Even in a braid, the little strands fell out to frame your face.

"Oh, hi Eric! How was the last round?" Jacob asked as he twisted around in his driver's seat to watch Eric round the back to put his putter away. You had shifted in your seat slightly to follow him with your eyes, as well.

Eric slid the stick into his bag and caught your eyes. His smile widened. "It went well. Same old, same old," he chuckled, bracing a gloves hand on the roof of the cart. "When'd you get here, Yn?" He asked you with a nod of his chin.

You perked up at the sound of your name. Cute. "Ah, just a few minutes ago," you said. You sheepishly gestured to your empty tray. "Haknyeon dropped me off a few holes over to deliver drinks, and then I saw Jacob over here and walked over to catch a ride back to the clubhouse."

"I can't believe he just ditched you," Jacob chortled.

Eric circled around the cart to take the seat in the front beside Jacob. "He ditched you?" He frowned, leaning his arm over the back of the seat to look at you.

As the cart began making its smooth return down the path and over a small bridge, you smoothed your braid over your shoulder. "No, no! He didn't ditch me; we were just headed in the same direction until we… weren't," you mused. "I mean, if Cobie wasn't here, a walk back wouldn't have been the worst thing anyways."

"I guess," Eric agreed, biting his lip. "So, uh… ever played golf before?"

"Golf? It's been a while, but yeah, I've driven the occasional golf ball across a green."

From the driver's seat, Jacob slapped his right hand down on Eric's shoulder. "Yn-ie! This guy's one of the best casual golf players you'll probably ever meet. His swing? So clean."

Eric chuckled, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, when he felt your attention flicker back to him again. "I'm no pro…"

"I'll have to see that for myself then," you said with a smile.

The golf cart slowed to a stop in front of the doors into the main kitchens of the clubhouse proper. Because this main kitchen was so large, they were given their own set of doors directly to the outdoor courts and beyond for easy access. While Jacob would drop you off here, he would have to continue onward for Eric's proper spot.

You clambered out of the golf cart, poking Jacob in the shoulder as you went. "Bye, guys! Thanks for the ride, Cobie."

"Bye, Yn!" Both boys chimed together. When you disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors, Jacob pulled the cart back onto the main road to carry onward.

Eric settled into his seat to face forward once again. He lifted the cap off his head and carded a hand through his hair to let the strands, dampened with sweat, dry a bit. "I didn't know Yn was allowed to work the golf range," he commented as innocently as possible.

Jacob made a small humming noise. "Yeah, we're short a couple people out here because of the Ferndale event going on down by the gazebo."

"She wasn't sent there?"

"Did you want her to be sent there?" Jacob grinned slyly at the young heir, who turned his gaze elsewhere.

Eric coughed. "I didn't say that."

His companion still would not wipe that knowing smile off his face, even as he slowed the golf cart to a stop and Eric hopped out to collect his equipment from the back. "I didn't say you did," he snickered as Eric walked away.

He didn't give Jacob the satisfaction of an answer, instead, saying a "thank you" for driving him over his shoulder, before ducking inside the clubhouse locker room.

Jacob shook his head in amusement and began making his way further down the path to return the cart. Silly, silly kids.

You didn't realize country clubs were real until you were sitting in the office of the Beverly Hills Country Club's hiring manager and being hired. That was about a month ago, and no, you still didn't believe it was real. The entire training experience, in fact, had swept through like a fever dream.

The summer season had just begun, though, and they had taken you on in a rush of desperation. You hadn't failed to notice how relieved the hiring manager looked when you told him you'd worked as a waitress at an upscale wedding venue before you moved cross-country, and knew how to carry a drink platter and dirty dishes. That was part of the reason you'd been hired on the spot. You'd also mentioned your extensive knowledge of how to fold cloth napkins into swans, and you liked to think that was your true selling point. (Don't ask, the last part was because you had been very bored while waiting in the backroom during a wedding.)

And while you cared little about cleaning pools or catering to rich prick egos, you did care about the crisp green bills that graced your eyes with more frequency than a Superman actor on Hollywood Boulevard. There was also the possibility to gain some more experience in the dining and catering world; if you were lucky, you could butter up your manager to let you help out in the kitchen some.

After all, that was why you were here so far from home.

"Yn, you've got company at table five," Haknyeon said as he passed by you on his way into the kitchen.

You gave a nod out of instinct. You brushed your hands against your black waist apron, absentmindedly reaching up to also smooth out the black vest on your upper half. Usually when you worked at the club's restaurants and bars as wait staff, your uniform consisted of a white button down under a black vest, followed by a black skirt and apron. It was classy and chic, and definitely added to the expensive atmosphere.

You could see table five in your section up ahead. It was a little early into dinner service, but there were still people who came in. To your surprise, the company at table five was none other than Eric Sohn himself, along with two others you recognized as his parents. They were dressed casually—meaning semiformal. It was something out of a dinner cruise, with Eric's dark brunette waves styled effortlessly messy and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the slightly bronzed, toned skin beneath—

You cleared your throat, plastering a smile on your face as you approached the table. "Evening, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Sohn," you gave a small greeting bow to his parents, then swiftly doled out little napkins for their drinks. "It's nice to see you on the grounds again today."

"Oh, Yn! It's very nice to see you this evening," said Mrs. Sohn with a delicate flourish of her wrist.

"Yes!" Mr. Sohn chimed in, "What have you been up to? Eric says he saw you on the golf range today."

Your eyes darted to Eric's, then went back to his parents when you realized his eyes were on you. You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and bracing the end of your serving tray against your waist. "Oh, uhm, yeah! I was just summoned down there to get some drinks to the Santos family—you know them, right?"

Recognition lit up in Eric's mother's eyes. "Yes, yes! Marina and her kids! Ah, well that sounds nice; I'll have to see if I can bump into her at the spa or something. Eric gave you a ride back in his cart, didn't he? The walk back is awfully far."

You nodded. "Yeah, of course. He was with Jacob, so I just hopped in the back and rode back with them here."

"I still owe you that golf date," Eric cut in smoothly, the hand with his Rolex draped over the back of his chair. His smile was casual, innocent, the kind that so easily could make anyone do his bidding.

"Golf date?" His parents glanced curiously between the two of you, and you felt heat rush up to your cheeks.

"It was just an offhand comment," you said sheepishly. "Jacob was telling me about how great of a golfer Eric is and I said I wanted to see his swing some time." Before anything else could be said on the matter, you tucked your tray under your arm and replaced it with your notepad and pen. "Can I get you anything to drink? An appetizer to start?"

That drew away the conversation promptly. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date with Eric Sohn, it just wasn't that simple. Though the club officially encouraged good relationships between staff and club members, they didn't exactly encourage the romantic kind of relationship. Obviously, it would be impossible to enforce a no-entanglement policy completely, but you wanted to stay on your manager's good side.

You nearly folded in half over the counter of the tiki bar at the pool. Sweat streamed down the side of your face, and you were pretty sure your baby hairs looked akin to a lion's mane under your white baseball cap. Thank god the club didn't force you to wear a black colored hat instead; the black polo and skort were death enough.

Jacob chuckled as he passed you a clean, damp towel that had been soaking in ice water. "Before you get heat stroke," he said, then returned to preparing a tray of drinks someone had ordered at the hot tub.

You thanked him profusely, dabbing your face and neck with the cool blessing. "Sheesh," you groaned. "I think I need to reapply my sunscreen soon. How are you out here all the time, Cobie?"

He grinned with a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I work with cold drinks and I'm under the shade. And—" he tapped the handy little fan clipped to one of the structure poles of the tiki bar, "—this beautiful work of engineering."

"I need one of those umbrella hats and squirt bottles kids bring to Disneyland," you grumbled and plucked yourself up from the bar. You returned the towel to Jacob so he could toss it into the soiled towel bin on the other side of him. You watched as he finished up filling the tray and whistled at the pool waiter who had ordered it for the group at the hot tub.

As the waiter walked away with the drinks, you thought aloud, "How could they stand to be in the hot tub in this heat?" From here, you could see the group of girls gathered in the bubbling jets of the hot tub at the far end of the pool in their bikini tops and Gucci shades.

"They're not standing—they're sitting."

You sent Jacob an unimpressed look, to which he simply smiled wider.

"Hey guys!" Ji Changmin huffed and puffed as he collapsed onto the barstool next to you. He had a towel hanging around his shoulders and a white sweatband holding up his dark bangs dripping with sweat. "Can I get an ice water, hyung?"

"Yeah, man," Jacob said, already dumping a scoop of ice in a cup.

"You alright there, Changmin?" You glanced over at the club's dance instructor with barely concealed amusement.

Changmin took the corner of his towel to dry the dribble of sweat making its way down his forehead. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to do hot Zumba in the height of summer needs a reality check. I think I'm dying."

As one of the country club's primary dance instructors, not only did Changmin lead all of the dance activities on the grounds, he was also supposed to take over any dance aerobics classes like said hot Zumba. You knew it wasn't his favorite, but it was still funny to make faces at him through the window as he did can-can kicks in leg warmers with all of the rich moms.

You leaned down to check if he had the leg warmers on. He did not. At least he finally had the good sense to break uniform.

Jacob slid over an ice-cold glass of water, and Changmin drained it like a man who trekked through the desert for seven days. You glanced at Jacob's digital clock on the counter behind him—he kept it so he could be on time for all of his breaks.

"Oh shit," you said, quickly fixing your cap and adjusting your hair, "time for me to get back to work."

Changmin straightened. "Where are you stationed today, Yn-ie? Chanhee and I wanted to come pick you up later for dinner before we have to come back."

"That's right!" Jacob slapped his palm to his forehead. "We have to all be back here for the banquet. I almost forgot, damn it."

You cocked a brow at him. "Wow, you, Jacob Bae, almost forgot about the major event all of our jobs are riding on that's taking place tonight?"

A smile curled onto your face when Jacob narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you have work to do?"

You let out a laugh and began backing away from the tiki bar and your friends. "Kim has me at the ice cream bar until the end of my shift, Changmin. I'll catch you boys later!"

Jacob and Changmin raised their hands in twin waves to you as you walked away. If you remembered the time on Jacob's clock correctly, you had about fifteen minutes to get up to the indoor ice cream bar for your shift.

Tonight, the country club was hosting a banquet for one of the business men here. It was supposedly one of the most important events for the club's reputation, so it was all hands on deck. Everyone from Chanhee at the spa to Haknyeon in the kitchen were called upon to clock into work once again tonight to help out. You were glad you weren't a part of the set-up and takedown committees, but you were expected to wait on the banquet. Jacob was supposed to be bartending tonight, as usual, and your other friends and coworkers would be waiting alongside you.

You glanced up on your walk out of the pool area and nearly tripped over the soles of your sneakers.

Coming in hot (literally) were none other than Eric Sohn, Lee Hyunjae, and Lee Juyeon—all of whom were very much shirtless. Swim trunks hung low on their waists, their stomachs carved like triplet Michaelangelos. Seeing shirtless guys at the pool wasn't new for you, but these guys were actually around your age.

Eric saw you first and waved. "Yn, hey!"

"Hi guys," you greeted back with a shallow nod of your head. "Nice day out for a swim."

"I know, right?" Hyunjae raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving summer sun. "You must be baking in that uniform, Yn." He raised his chin to gesture at the all black attire.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to join us?" Juyeon smiled. He knew you probably couldn't join them because you were clocked in, but he had always been pretty nice nonetheless. He and Hyunjae were cousins, and the Lee family was well-known around here for being big names in the legal sphere, as well as being one of the larger families. There was another cousin of theirs around their age running around here somewhere, too.

You gave a helpless shrug. "Duty calls, unfortunately."

"Yn, hey wait—" Eric caught your attention as you were about to continue walking up toward the main clubhouse. He flashed you that smile again, the one that made your stomach do flips and would convince you to do flips for him if only he asked. "You won't happen to be working at the banquet tonight, are you?"

"How'd you guess?" You replied good-naturedly. "Why do you ask?"

He began walking backwards toward the direction his friends had drifted off to, his smile tilting up slightly. "So I know which cologne I should wear."

And it definitely wasn't a trick of the summer sun that made you see him wink at you.

"He's into you."

"He is not—" you wrestled your sleeve up your forearm and made a frustrated noise when the button would not go through, "—into me."

Chanhee gave you a nice, slow eye roll just so you would see it, and he yanked the sleeve away from you so he could roll it up himself. "A lot of men around here like smelling nice, but no one pulls out the Acqua Di Gio just for the service girl or a business banquet," he hissed as a fellow waiter rushed past you two in the narrow corridor. "Jesus, why is this button such a bitch?"

"That's what I'm saying," you hissed back at him as the two of you both struggled to fix your sleeve. "Not the cologne thingy—I hate how you're able to just take a whiff and name the cologne. What kind of demon nose do you have?"

Chanhee sighed and collapsed against the wall opposite to you when he finally managed to get the sleeve right. The two of you were currently on break, not hiding, in this corridor. In T-minus two minutes, you would both have to be back out in the hustle and bustle of cleanup or after-party drinks in the lounge. Because the main course had finally been served, a lot of the waiters were allowed to go on break. The banquet thus far had gone relatively smoothly, other than the fact that when you had served Eric all of his courses, he'd made sure you practically melted on the smell of his cologne.

It wasn't your fault you had to bend down close to him to not spill the hot food. And it wasn't your fault that he chose to put his mouth right to your ear when he told you a joke, masking it as asking for more water.

You couldn't decide if you were going to giggle or let your knees buckle at that moment. Thank god you managed to laugh behind your hand and hustle away before anyone noticed.

But that was besides the point. The point was that Chanhee had also passed by Eric, caught the faint trail of Aqua De Whatever, and connected some dots.

"If you want a demon, you talk to Changmin," he said. "I just know my shit. And I also know that you only break out the Acqua Di Gio when you want to attract someone, and based on the fact he's currently seated around about fifty other businesspeople…" Chanhee made a wild, desperate gesture with his hands, eyes widened. Are you getting this? He seemed to ask. Because I will smack you if you aren't.

You fanned yourself, justifying it by thinking about how hot the back hallway was and this outfit was, rather than admitting that it was because Eric was hot. "Okay, okay. Come on, we have to get back out there," you said, already turning your heel toward the door.

"I'm just saying that clearly he's been trying to tell you something," Chanhee added as you both broke out of the hallway and into the kitchen. He grabbed a circular serving tray from a stack on the counter next to him to hand over to you.

"Well, what do you suppose I should do with that?"

He pressed his lips into a thin smile, taking hold of a small, empty cart and pushing it ahead of him. "Just keep an open mind, darling."

You and Chanhee separated at the kitchen doors out into the banquet hall. While he would be a part of cleaning up, you needed to head over to the next-door parlor where the party had moved post-dinner. Business would continue as usual, just with a few more drinks and pool involved.

The parlor room was arguably one of your favorite rooms in the club with its cozier atmosphere created by the evergreen walls, tiffany-shaded lamps, and dark oak furnishings. It was also outfitted with a hearth (unused during the summer and spring) and a billiards table. Most of those who had chosen to stay had migrated with a certain crowd of people they planned to continue chatting with. Your job, as well as the few others recruited to the parlor, was to be a fly on the wall until somebody needed something. If tips were passed around, you were free to pocket them.

You were probably standing and waiting for only five minutes before you saw Eric stand up from where he was on the far side of the room. He shouldered his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of his armchair, exposing the white dress shirt and black vest beneath. Whew, he was wearing a full suit to this event? You wondered how he even survived, but all conscious thought flew out the window when he caught you staring and started smirking to himself. The smug, little expression stayed etched into the sharp planes of his face even as he strolled over to the pool table and lined up his shot.

You wondered—and it was just a thought—what it'd be like (possibly) for him to lean over you—

"Excuse me, miss?" You shook out of your daze and remembered why you were here. Unfortunately, it was not to admire the young heir watching you from the other side of the room, but to serve guests.

For the next couple of hours, your job was exactly what you did. You had been so focused on running back and forth from the bar in the other room and back that you always seemed to have missed Eric trying to catch your eye again. If he wanted drinks, he had to suck it up and ask someone else who just happened to be near him instead.

As the evening dwindled into a sweet, humid night, the amount of guests also began to trickle down. You had grabbed a rag on your way back to the parlor room and said goodbye to your coworkers on their way out. Some still lingered for last minute clean up, and though you were technically done for the night, you wanted to wipe down anything you had missed. It was something simple that you could do to help out a colleague, and it wasn't like you were in a rush to go home.

When you walked back into the parlor room, however, you blinked—surprised—at the sight of an individual left. He leaned against the billiards table, one hand holding the edge of the suit jacket draped over his shoulder and the other scrolling through his phone.

Eric glanced up from his device and pocketed it at the sight of you. "Hey."

"Hi," you said back. "Uhm, can I get you anything—"

"Oh, no no. I'm good." He shook his head, pushing off from the table. He shot you that signature boyish smile of his and your heart began doing cartwheels. "I just wanted to ask if I could give you a lift home."

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Truthfully, you were caught off guard, stunned. This wasn't what you were expecting from him.

He saw your hesitation and let out a sheepish laugh, cupping the back of his head. "Sorry, this is so out of the blue. I… it's a little late out right now, and I didn't know if you had a ride or not. I know you're not usually scheduled to work so late."

"You know my schedule?" You blurted. Though, the thought did warm you and amuse you.

His eyes widened. "I mean, uhm, definitely not in the creepy, stalkerish sort of way! I uh, I like to think I pay a lot more attention when it comes to you." His admission didn't do much to slow the racing organ in your chest cavity. You always saw Eric Sohn as one of those smooth and collected young men who were born to charm. But seeing him flustered and tripping over his words because of you?

You ducked your head slightly, flattered and most definitely charmed still. "I'd really appreciate a lift home, Eric."

You both shared a smile in the slightly dimmed, slightly warmed lights of the parlor room.

Once you had finished glossing over the surfaces of the parlor room with your rag to catch any rings made by perspiring liquids, your manager dismissed you for the night. Eric told you he would meet you out front where he would bring his car around for you. You found yourself standing at the edge of the curb with a gentle, yet rare summer breeze wafting through your hair. You had your bag slung over your shoulder, and you grasped the strap and fidgeted with the material.

A car pulled up to the circular driveway—it was a sports car. The Corvette, sleek and aerodynamic, was doused in a shiny orange coat of paint that glimmered even in the night. The passenger side window rolled down so you could see Eric leaning over the center console and waving to you.

"Hey, hop in!" He said to you with a grin, lowering the music he was playing.

Gingerly, you walked up to the car and managed to maneuver yourself inside. The passenger seat was lined in soft black leather, and the inside of the car made it all the more easy to suffocate on that delicious cologne of his.

Eric had ditched his suit jacket and vest in the backseat of the car, leaving him in just his white dress shirt and slacks.

"Nice car," you whistled lowly as you buckled yourself in.

His mouth tilted upward. "Thanks," he said. He fussed around with his phone for a second before passing the device to you. "If you wouldn't mind putting your number and address in."

"Oh." It was a brand new contact page. You didn't question it, swiftly inputting all of the necessary information before returning his phone to him.

Eric took a peek at the address, then pulled out of the country club's driveway. You didn't live too far away from the club, luckily. It was only a few minute's drive, but the walk sometimes felt a bit longer. California didn't exactly have the most convenient public transportation system, and in an area like Beverly Hills, it was near impossible to find a reliable bus or train service.

"Any music preferences?" He asked you quietly.

You shook your head. "I'm not super picky. What you have on is all good with me."

"I have to confess, Yn," he said with a half smile, eyes darting toward you, "that I was trying to steal your attention all night."

Your stomach flipped and you suppressed the smile that threatened to crawl onto your mouth. "Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah, but obviously, your work ethic beat me out, as well as my own luck."

"Any reason for seeking me out?" He'd technically had your attention all throughout the banquet, but he had also needed to entertain and chat with the other people around him. While the after party was sometimes used for business discussion, too, the banquet dinner itself was the main event.

"I mean, besides wanting to talk to the cute girl eating up all my thoughts?"

He was turning onto your apartment complex's street all too soon. The car slid into a parking spot along the curb, and he twisted in his seat to face you. "I really want to take you out, show you a good time. It doesn't have to be something fancy if that's not your vibe; we can always start with golf."

You let the smile bloom on your face at the reference to the "golf date" you both had yet to schedule. You still wanted to see his swing, after all. "Then it's a date," you said, "I should have a free day two days from now, if that works for you."

Eric bit his lip. "I'm all yours, hon."

Before you could start doing somersaults from excitement, you resolved yourself to getting into your apartment first. "Well, thank you again for the lift, Eric. You have my number?"

He nodded. "Never losing it."

You grinned something fond. He grinned right back at you. "Get home safe."

"I will. Good night, cutie."

You slammed the car door shut and left Eric to his lonesome. Through the passenger side window, Eric watched as you disappeared into your apartment complex, safe and sound. He had almost given into the urge to ask if he could walk you up, but it was a miracle you had even taken him up on his offer to drive you home.

He pulled up your contact and sent you a text so you could have his number, too, as soon as possible. He deposited his phone into the cup holder, then punched the roof of his car with a shit-eating grin on his face. He'd scored your number and a date in one night—damn right, he did.

You had reasoned with yourself that this was okay based on the fact that you weren't on company time.

"Shoooooot," you whistled with a slight arch in your brows and applause. You tracked the distance Eric's driving shot sent the golf ball flying, and in the early morning sunlight, the white sphere disappeared over the crest of green hill.

You figured being courted by a club member during your own free time was a loophole you could live with. Especially when such a loophole looked so good swinging a golf club.

His follow through was just as beautiful as he was, his arms lifting the golf club over behind him from the arc. When he lowered the club to turn back to you, he was beaming. "What's the verdict?"

Your golf club was currently acting as your arm rest as you staked the head against the grass. "I don't know, Eric," you sucked in a breath, teasingly. "I think you could've gone pro."

He laughed then, eyes narrowed into glorious upturned crescent moons. "Thanks, cutie." He made a gesture to the tee. "All yours."

"Let me preface this by saying that it's been awhile," you were quick to say as the nerves suddenly bubbled up into your chest and made you wanna do a jittery shuffle. You should not have let Eric go first.

"No worries," he chirped. "Why don't we practice first?"

Yes, practice. Thank god he knew where your head was at.

You eagerly agreed, and set your golf ball up on the tee. Nervously, you smoothed your gloves down the front of your pleated golf skirt. You lined up the face of the golf club with the ball and pulled it back a millimeter—

Then chickened out.

"Performance anxiety," you grimaced to your date.

"Oh, well, that's okay!" Eric set his golf club down on the field and made his way over to you. "Can I help?"

Yes. "Please do," you chuckled, leaving room for him to take your club.

But instead, he shook his head. "No, no. You won't learn anything from just watching, silly goose."

He grabbed the golf club over your hands and lined both of your bodies up correctly. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his front pressed against your back. His mouth was so close to your ear again, and there was that damned cologne making you see hearts.

"Sorry, is this okay?" He asked softly.

You gulped, nodding. "Yeah. Perfectly okay." You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat quicken like a drum crescendoing. If he wasn't careful, your heart might just fall out and run to his arms.

From this position, Eric smoothly guided you through the steps of a perfect swing. The pullback was cranked over your shoulder, then the club would swing straight through, followed by the arc back over your other shoulder and the appropriate turn of your body. As he had explained to you, getting the perfect swing or shot in sports mostly came down to the follow through. If one could not back up their initial movement, then why make the shot?

"—and you turn your body—yeah, just like that," he praised as you automatically rotated yourself from the side to the front, the toe of your foot digging into the ground and turning with you. "That's beautiful."

He backed up from you then, giving you some space. It suddenly felt like you were missing something with him gone. "You should try it now!"

You took a deep breath in as you lined your golf club up with the ball again. Cranking the club back over your shoulder, you swung it down and back up again. When the face of the club met the ball, it did so with a resounding PING!, and the ball went sailing.

(That sound… mwah. The sweet, sweet sound of triumph.)

"You did it!"

"I did it!"

It hadn't gone as far as Eric's had, but it had definitely traveled farther than it would have without his help. You whirled to him, clasping his hand with yours as you both shared equally radiant smiles. A giddiness flooded into you, and no doubt into the glow of your face.

"See? Not too bad," he said, squeezing your hand.

"All thanks to you," you pointed out.

He shook his head, using your linked hands to lead you back to where your golf bags were waiting a little ways back by the cart. "Nah, you had it in you, Yn. It was just performance anxiety, as you said."

The two of you each grabbed your own bags and hiked them over your shoulder to head down the hill and find your respective golf balls. From this view, you could see that the other patrons of the club were slowly trickling out onto the acres surrounding. It felt strange to be here as not a staff member, but as a guest instead.

Eric piped up, "Is it weird that I was hoping you would ask for my help?"

"Not really," you mused, then meekly added, "'cause I was kind of hoping you would offer your help."

He looked about as happy as you felt, and he swung your hands together between you.

It hit you, then, that you were still holding hands. But you didn't let go, and Eric didn't say anything. He just helped you find your golf ball, line up another shot, and hugged you from behind like it was nothing.

From across the pond, Jacob, Changmin, Chanhee, and Haknyeon pulled up over the bridge. The four of them were all piled into a golf cart, and Jacob stopped it just over the crest. They all knew about where you were today and why you were dressed in proper golf attire rather than the country club uniform. They watched with wide eyes (and maybe a camera or two) as you and Eric had a good time.

"Young love," Jacob sighed fondly from his spot in the driver's seat.

"I think it's gross," Changmin giggled. He yelped, furiously rubbing the place on his shoulder that Chanhee had whacked. "Hey! I was kidding!"

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "Let them have their moment. I'm glad Yn-ie let herself have fun with him."

"They look like they're having quite the time," Haknyeon said. "They're cute."

Changmin poked his head in between Jacob and Haknyeon from the backseat. "Just a thought, but what if we turned on the sprinklers like in High School Musical 2?"

An exchange of looks, a deep consideration… "No," they all chorused. They would get their asses kicked for that.

You were on lunch break when Changmin practically crashed onto the bench next to you with a crazed look in his eyes. "You. Me. Spa. Now."

You couldn't even say goodbye to the sandwich you were eating before Changmin grabbed your arm and dragged you across the club.

"Changmin! What the hell—"

"I'll explain in a second!" He hissed back at you while ducking into the service entrance of the spa.

The backdoor led to a staff break room, where Chanhee was currently (coincidentally) seated on a stool eating a box of Pepero while watching a cartoon on his phone. The man glanced up from his phone at the loud commotion, one cheek full of his snack, and he blinked. "You're lucky I'm not with a client right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Changmin said, dragging you and a stool over to Chanhee at the same time. He pushed your shoulders so you would take a seat. Changmin placed his hands on his hips as he stood before the two of you. "You're never gonna guess what I just overheard."

"What?" You and Chanhee asked at the same time.

"Well, you know Clara?"

Chanhee jumped right in. "The one fooling around with that Brian Yang guy. He's the heir to that one corporation monopolizing SIM cards or some shit."

How the hell…?

Changmin's head bobbed vigorously. "Yes, yes! That's the one. Anyways—I was walking past the manager's office and they were talking loud enough to hear with headphones on. Apparently, Clara and Brian had a nasty, nasty split, and Brian got her fired."

Silence.

Chanhee's eyebrows flew up. "Like… fired-fired?"

A grave nod. "Fired-fired."

You held your head in your hands. "Just because of a break up?" You asked. "Clara is such a nice girl."

Your friend's lips were pressed into a line. "Doesn't mean he's a nice guy. I dunno—" he threw his hands in the air and let them flop back against his legs, "—it's fucked, man. He said it was, like, too awkward to be around her all the time since he was here all the time. And because his father is one of the stockholders of the country club, Manager Kim could do little but do his bidding."

Your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach. Drama like this didn't really happen often here, but there was always something going on.

You always thought there were assholes here, but sometimes they just kept on reminding you of it.

"And now I'm fooling around with one of the club members," you thought aloud. The realization hit you, a golf ball to the face. "Oh my god."

Chanhee's hand came up to your shoulder and gave you a soothing, warm squeeze. "Eric seems like a good guy, Yn-ie. You never know."

"But you really never know," you murmured. There was a reason why the club discouraged romantic relations between club members and staff. Perhaps this time, it wasn't about work productivity, but about keeping your damn jobs. You needed this job. You needed it so desperately because of the money, the opportunities, the connections. Not to mention all of the people you'd befriended here… it didn't seem right that you were scared of what Eric could do to you, but reality was settling in fast.

The Sohns were a major shareholder in the club, which meant they could pull strings like tying a shoelace.

But Eric is good. He's been good, you reasoned.

Changmin crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "You should talk to him. At the very least, you only went on one date, so it's not like you're completely involved yet."

That was a good point. You were going to run with it.

When Eric invited you over to his house, you should have known you were about to drive your beat up sedan into the driveway of a palace, not a house. A house was for normal people, not whoever the Sohns were, you knew that much. To say you were intimidated by the massive front lawn, iron gates, and limestone arches and columns would be an understatement. Maybe you should have worn something nicer.

You pulled up to the curb of the roundabout—he'd mentioned to you that you could just park there. Apparently the garage was a little inconvenient for guests, but you weren't complaining. The front of the house was a marvel to look at, and wherever that garage was would have left you unable to fully soak in this modern wonder. Plus, you had some time to pull yourself together before seeing Eric.

The plan was… no plan, really. He wanted to hang out with you, and you'd mentioned your love for cooking. Thus, he proposed a miniature cooking class in his kitchen, along with dinner on the patio. It sounded nice. It also sounded great when you remembered what you needed to talk to him about. (Yay.)

It's not a big deal. Eric's cool.

You finally managed to trek your way up to the front door and you booped the doorbell. It was one of those loud bells that must have echoed throughout the house, because you could clearly hear it from the outside.

A couple minutes later, you heard the locking mechanism come undone. The door opened after; you swore that every time you saw this guy, you became speechless.

You had seen him in a dress shirt before, but this tank top and over-shirt thing was new. It was casual and comfortable, yet chic. His hair was styled in the same manner his clothing was—simple and so attractive. A silver chain and matching silver rings added the subtle touch of elegance to pull everything together.

"Hi," he grinned—he was always smiling, you realized. It was such a pretty smile. He stepped aside and gave you room in the doorway. "Come on in, cutie."

"Thanks for having me over," you said pleasantly, trying not to openly gawk at the front foyer with the sky-high ceiling, chandelier dripping with crystals, and grand staircase wrapping around the walls up to the indoor balcony.

He closed the door behind you as you deposited your shoes by the small rack. Eric wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder to guide you through the foyer. "Of course! I'm so excited you're here; I went out—actually no, I…" he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "ordered it off that grocery app. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for."

"Grocery app?" You laughed. "Are you talking about the stuff for dinner?"

"Yeah!"

The two of you entered the kitchen. It was a wide, open space that flowed straight into the living room. The cabinets were smooth and snow white, accented with countertops marbled with black and hints of gold. Though clean, it was a space well-loved with a recipe book left open to a lobster risotto; little candies left in a jar on the island labeled with chalk; barstools that weren't quite aligned, like they'd actually been sat on. The living room, too, was beautiful. Massive, but beautiful, with a wraparound couch sectional and a flat screen with family photos hung above it. It was framed by shelves filled to the brim with CD and DVD cases, more family photos, books, and little baubles.

And the lighting. Oh man, the natural lighting from the windows making up the entire back wall… it led out onto the acres of land his family owned, as well as a patio that overlooked the valley.

Eric had mentioned dinner on the patio. If your math was right, that meant you would probably be dining at sunset, all while overlooking a splendid view—how romantic. God, you hated how giddy you were starting to get. Those butterflies in your stomach would not cease.

"You have a really, really beautiful home," you murmured, letting him take your bag from you to place on one of the barstools.

You had always thought that big houses like this would be so difficult to fill. What was one supposed to do with so much space anyway? From the pictures on the wall, you could see Eric's parents, himself, as well as a sister who must have been out making her own mark on the world in that special Sohn kind of way. Even with just four people in this place… they still managed to make it feel like a home and not a house. It was like your own house back in your hometown, across the country. It was lived-in and warm and yours, and that was the beauty of it. And you were certain by just looking at this place that the Sohns were a family who loved each other.

How could you not believe in Eric? Not with all of this to vouch for him? He had grown up loved.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of my favorite places to be. That's why I still haunt it like a ghost," he joked. He placed a warm hand on the small of your back and led you over to the fridge where he had put all of the grocery delivery bags in. Even the fridge was relatively stocked. "Not sure if everything I got was right, but hopefully it'll all turn out delicious anyway."

You helped him unload the bags onto the kitchen island, raising a brow at the labels on the groceries. They were on the higher end of price and quality, which definitely wasn't a problem, but holding a hundred dollar bottle of red wine just for sauce was making your anxiety levels spike. "Oh, no. It all looks great, Eric. Thanks for getting these, by the way. I would have gone out and brought them here, but—"

He waved away your worries. "You're busy and you're working. Plus, it lets me technically pay for dinner," he said with a cheeky look on his face and gesturing with a finger gun. It was cute. He was cute.

"Smooth, Sohn. I see you."

"That's what they called me in high school," he played along, dancing on his toes behind you to fiddle with his phone and turn on a speaker somewhere (you didn't know where). "Smooth Sohn."

You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. Eric's eyes glittered with a mutual mirth. "Whatever you say, honey."

He waltzed back over to you, tongue in cheek. "I like that better though—honey." He leaned back against the counter next to you and watched as you sorted out the ingredients in different piles depending on how they should be prepped. "So what's the plan, chef? You're the boss."

"I'd love to know where your knives and cutting boards are," you said.

He leapt into action. "Say no more!"

In reality, you did have to say more. It wasn't that Eric didn't know where everything was in the kitchen, he just wasn't as well versed in using the kitchen. He'd told you while teaching him how to hold a knife properly that he really only came in here for ramen. Good news was he could crack an egg with one hand; bad news was that was about all he could do. It was still charming, nonetheless. And the cute cooking lesson gave him plenty of opportunity to get close to you.

He had even insisted on you teaching him how to chop carrots like how he had taught you how to swing a golf club—over and around him—with your hands over his and your body wrapped around his, your chin on his shoulder.

But with dinner well past done, the two of you made your way out onto the patio just as the sun was sinking into the embrace of the valley below. It melted into the sky like a broken yolk, saturated and golden. He let you have the seat staring out into the valley. The way he looked at you though, made you feel like you were his million dollar valley view.

The table was set with twin glasses of red wine (amazing what a good wine paired with beef stew could do for the soul), plates separated by a hot stew pot, and a couple of candles for ambiance.

"Wow," he moaned as the beef melted on his tongue. "This is so good. And you're telling me you're pretty, smart, and can cook?"

You held back a giggle so you could swallow your bite. "And I'm single," you jested.

"And you're single!" He leaned his head back, eyes closed. "Thank god for that."

Eric leaned his cheek on his fist, his head cocked slightly and his eyes on you with a swoon-worthy admiration. "Thanks for coming out tonight and hanging out with me."

You could kiss him. "Please, I should be the one thanking you. It's been really fun hanging out with you." It was surreal, actually. The fact that this young heir had deemed you "worthy" or whatever to court and entertain—it wasn't like you defined your self worth by his attention and affection, but this felt nice. Your conversation with Changmin and Chanhee the other day came to the forefront of your mind.

"I, uhm, think this is a good time to ask if you wanted to do this more often? Hanging out with me, I mean."

You weren't sure if this was what you thought he was asking you. He reached for his wine glass, and in the fading sunlight and the candlelight illuminating the bashful expression on his face, your heart pounded.

"What I mean to say," he tried again after a small sip of wine, "is would you be my—"

"I think we should talk!" You cut in before you heard anymore. You were getting jittery, unable to figure out when was the right time to bring up the thing, but also, you wanted him to say his thing, and it was just a mess. But when you saw Eric's wide eyes, mouth zipped up, you repeated in a much calmer tone, "I think we should talk about something. It's not… it's not super serious or anything. I could just be overthinking."

Oh, you felt bad. He looked like a kicked puppy, but you saw him pull himself together for you. "It's—you're probably not overthinking, Yn. What's on your mind?"

The wine glass was put down. He even put his fork down.

Were you making a big deal out of this? Probably not, right? This was important, you reminded yourself. You pursed your lips. "So one of my coworkers—former coworkers," you amended, "Clara. Her name's Clara. She and this guy you might know, Brian Yang…"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know of him."

"Well, they kind of had this thing going on between them. And the other day, she was fired because they broke up and he thought it was too weird that she was working where he was hanging out all the time," you rambled on. "And I uhm, I just wanted to make sure from the get-go that… you know… it's stupid, I don't know. But it's my job, y'know? And—and I need this job, but I like you a lot, Eric. Am I making any sense?"

Neither of you were eating anymore.

You looked at him, hopelessly, searching for signs of understanding.

He leaned in slightly and reached for your hands over the table. "Yn, sweetheart," he said, lacing his fingers with yours over the pot of beef stew, "that is a valid point to bring up, and I can understand what you're probably thinking. That—that news must have been scary, or at least nerve-racking, and Brian's a dick for that—"

You nodded, swallowing.

"—and I don't want you to risk your job because of me," he said earnestly. "But I really want to see where this goes, you know? If anything happens and you don't feel the same way, then no harm, no foul. I'm not gonna take my emotions out on you like that asshole; that's not right."

The breath you had been holding in fell from your mouth, a wave of relief. A sappy, grateful sort of smile worked its way onto your mouth and you met Eric's own kind expression. "You are actually perfect," you let out a breathy laugh. "Where have you been all my life?"

He grinned. "Funny, that's what I've been thinking about you." Eric set your laced hands on the side of the table as he raised his glass to you. "So what do you say? Can we try this?"

You lifted your glass to gently clink it with his. "Let's do it."

"So he's perfect, but he hasn't kissed you yet?" Chanhee's gasp of incredulity hit you in a gust of air. His lips pursed like a penguin's beak. "Figures."

You sent him a look. "Oh, please. Figures what? He's just being… I dunno, chivalrous!"

"Chivalry is dead," Haknyeon snickered as he waltzed by you with fresh towels to lay out by the pool. "You should make the move, Yn."

"So you two are, like, dating now?" Asked Changmin as he hopped onto the tiki bar stool next to you and Chanhee. He kept on glancing down at his watch; he must have only a small break in between his dance classes today.

"They're 'seeing where things go,'" mocked Jacob with a shake of his head. He swirled a rag around the innards of a glass to dry it.

You sent them all dirty looks now. "Cobie, out of all the times you choose to be an imp—"

"An imp," Chanhee muttered, glancing away as he took a sip of his piña colada, "I'm dead."

"If it makes you feel better, Yn, I'm supervising a tennis match with him and the Lee cousins later today. I can get a feel of where his mind's at," Jacob offered.

You drummed your fingers against the bar. The offer was tempting… "It's fine," you insisted. "We don't have to rush things. We go to the same university and we live in the same city now. It's not like we don't have time… right?"

"Riiiight," Changmin drawled with an over exaggerated wink. He frowned at his watch, hopping off his stool. "Damn it, salsa class time. Catch you losers later!"

As he darted off into the distance, Chanhee sniffed. "Says the loser." He plucked the pink umbrella out of his drink and set the decoration down on his napkin. "You're not wrong, Yn-ie. Taking it slow isn't a bad thing. From what you told us, it seems like you're both on the same page now anyway."

"Thank you," you said.

"Maybe he's trying to plan a romantic moment." Haknyeon rejoined the conversation now that he had done his towel delivery.

Jacob nodded with an approving turn of his lips. "You might be onto something. He seems the type."

Your heart was fluttering as if it sprouted butterfly wings. Oh, the thought of kissing Eric Sohn in romantic lighting…

"I think you should take her back to her job before she drifts fully into La La Land." When you snapped back to reality, Jacob's eyes were twinkling, eyebrows wagging.

Haknyeon nudged you with the back of his hand and nodded up to the clubhouse. "C'mon, Yn-ie. I think Manager Kim wants to brief us on dinner service anyway."

Hours later, Jacob found himself on the tennis courts, overseeing a match between the three Lee cousins—Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Juyeon—and Eric. He often thought it was luck that got him to land this job where all he did to pass the day was make drinks, drive golf carts, and occasionally play doubles with club members. For all that it was, he considered himself very content.

"—that was a foul," Jacob declared, jogging to go catch the tennis ball before it bounded into the bushes.

Hyunjae let out a groan. "Nooo! It hit the line. Jacob, please, I thought we were cool!"

Sangyeon shook his head, smiling as he caught the tennis ball from Jacob with his free hand. "Hyunjae, we all know your eyesight is shit."

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. "Hey! No one asked."

"Can we take a break?" Juyeon asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I think I need some water."

The boys all murmured their agreement, and Jacob reached down into the mini cooler he'd lugged out to toss them ice cold bottles of water. It was just one of the few perks that came with the club membership.

While Sangyeon and Hyunjae were bickering about eyesight and foul lines, Juyeon settled into a seat by them to referee. Eric sidled up next to Jacob as they both absentmindedly watched the chaos unfold from afar.

Jacob whistled. "So… Yn said she had a really good time with you the other night."

Eric perked up at the sound of your name. "She did? Well that's a relief to hear."

"It wasn't clear?" Jacob asked, face tilted in question. "I mean, not to completely expose her or anything, but she's been gushing about you all day, man."

A giddy smile took over the youngest Sohn's face. "She was?" He licked his lips, drawing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth to catch the water that had dribbled from the bottle. "She's—she's so cute, hyung. Like, I don't know if this is weird for you because you're friends—"

Jacob coughed in amusement. "It's fine. Think of me as your guardian angel."

"Right," Eric piped up. "I think… I think we really hit it off, y'know? And I mean, she probably told you we just kind of had dinner and she had to leave, but she'd come after work, so she was probably tired and—"

Ohhh. Jacob understood exactly what was going on now. His heart warmed at the thought that Eric was being so considerate and not forcing you to stay. He was thinking about your long day, and didn't wish to prolong it anymore. Little did he know, you probably wouldn't have minded hanging around a tad longer.

"—I wanted to kiss her—"

Wait huh. Jacob tuned back in. "When?"

Eric blinked. "Uhm, at dinner. Or at least, when I was walking her out to her car." He glanced away and his smile softened at the thought. "I wish I had, actually. The moment was right there, and the lighting was perfect, and her smile—oh my god, her smile."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. So this was where Eric's mind was at; good to know. "Then do it—kiss her."

"Right now?"

"No! Not right now—"

"Hey, you guys ready to play again?" Juyeon called. The three Lees had already maneuvered themselves back to court.

Eric and Jacob exchanged glances. This conversation wasn't over, Jacob's look seemed to say.

They nodded to their companions, though. "Yeah, we're ready."

It did not come as a surprise to you when you found out Eric had a home theater in his basement. It was something like you'd pictured from the movies, the ones with the rows of dark leather armchairs, deep cup holders, and a giant screen and surround sound system. The foot of the theater room even had a little snack station to make popcorn, and a mini fridge stocked with drinks.

You and Eric shared the couch on the bottom floor that was big enough for the two of you. It was a random Tuesday, and you didn't have work today, so he'd suggested swinging by and hanging out with him for the day. You couldn't possibly refuse.

Eric scrolled through the movie options on the screen with the remote. "Are you sure you don't want any popcorn?" He asked you.

You shook your head. "I'm good, really. But it sounds like you want popcorn, Eric."

He caught his tongue in his smile. "Maybe."

If you weren't supposed to be watching a movie, you would have gladly curled up on that couch and stared at him for the rest of time. His jawline was enough to make a girl go mad, and the fact that he was just so sweet, too—

"How about this one?"

You snapped out of it, barely flicking your gaze back over to the screen in time to avoid him finding out that you were just blatantly staring. "Uhh, sure. I haven't seen this one, actually."

"Really? Oh my god, we have to watch it then." And so you did.

It was about halfway into the movie that you realized there was a draft coming down on you—the air conditioning in this room was awfully high, but you didn't want to say anything. You hiked your legs up onto the couch and hugged your arms, leaning back slightly against the quilt draped over the back of the couch. (How conveniently placed…)

Eric saw your movement from the corner of his eye. "You cold? We can share the blanket."

"My hero," you joked as he removed the quilt from behind your heads and draped it over your laps.

Because the article wasn't exactly miles long, you and Eric had to shift over closer to each other. Not that you were complaining. The arm and leg pressed against yours were warm, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to raise his arm and place it over the back of the couch behind you.

As you both watched the rest of the movie, you gradually let yourself lean into him, and his arm eventually fell to rest directly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"I always liked the ending of this movie," Eric murmured softly to you as the credits rolled. He brushed his fingers along your arm in a warm, soothing manner. "What'd you think?"

You stayed with your head tucked onto his shoulder. "Hmm, not bad. I think they could have cut the romance though."

"Ah, I see your point," he said. "Sometimes directors just like to force it for the sake of a subplot."

"Wholeheartedly agree."

His fingers danced up to your shoulder and began playing with your hair. He pursed his lips. "Are you a fan of romance movies? That's kind of a random question, I guess."

"Not really—a random question, I mean," you said, and pulled your head off of his shoulder to face him. The thought occurred to you of how close your bodies and your faces were, sharing warmth and skin. You saw his eyes dart down away from yours for a split second. "I like romance movies. I think they restore my faith in humanity," you mused. "You?"

"I like 'em, too." He released a small exhale, an almost-shy smile etching itself onto his face. "Most of them are just… feel-good movies. They're really sweet, and I've always kind of wanted something like that."

"High standards," you whispered, though playfully. "Wouldn't we all like something from the movies?" To you, this was what the movies were like—"handsome guy sweeps girl off her feet, and he's perfect and she's happy." You were already living out your too-good-to-be-true dreams.

He laughed. "True. I think it's just a matter of waiting for the right person to come along, maybe. And following through."

You bit the bait. "Following through?"

"Backing up your initial swing," he clarified. "Something to drive the ball home and make sure you mean it. I feel like maybe that's what people forget about romance—that there's still an after, beyond happily ever after."

Wow. "Your brain," you praised. "That was actual poetry, I think. Is this how you get girls?"

He bit his lip through a smile, leaning closer. "Only one girl. I hope it's working."

"I think it's working a little too well," you admitted, voice barely audible now.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan over your lips as he came closer, about ninety-percent of the way; the other ten percent was left for you to either push forward or pull back. He was giving you the decision on a gold platter.

And who could deny something served so beautifully?

You closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, at first, as the nerves in your brain and your vital organs threatened to go haywire. You breathed him in, your noses slotting against each other. He cupped the back of your head with his free hand, the other curling around your waist.

When you broke apart, it was for a split second, until he was kissing you again. You were half in his lap at this point, your legs draped over his, your side pressed to his chest.

Foreheads pressed together, you shared a breath of air with him. He nuzzled his nose against you as if unable to be so far from you. "Be mine," he said, simple at first. Then, "Please."

You smiled against him and felt his mouth do the same. "Only if you'll be mine, too."

"As if I would say no," he laughed, leaning in again, and crushing his mouth to yours. The theater room filled with both of your giggles as you fell backward.

If this was the happily ever after, then you would gladly follow through.

a/n: to anyone who read flight risk, i just redeemed myself from valentine's day

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet

#kflixnet #bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #sohn youngjae x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #eric sohn drabbles #eric sohn oneshots #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn scenarios #eric sohn fluff #the boyz fanfic #dbn: summer on you

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rhadamanthes · 2 months

Text

Made with love. Toji x reader

word count : 2,8k

warnings : kitchen sex, fluff, praise, bakery AU, food play, breeding kink, soft toji, forced proximity, single dad toji, slowburnish.

"Thanks for that, I owe you :)" You sigh, reading Shiu's message. You accepted one of his friends to work with you for a time. Toji, your new coworker starts today, you couldn't be more nervous. For the past 4 years, you've been working alone. You own a small pastry shop downtown, key word being small you don't even know how two people are going to fit in. You fidget nervously waiting for someone to show up. Shiu didn't even take the time to send a picture of the said friend. So you're just looking like a creep observing every passerby trough the window of the bakery waiting for someone to stop.

And when they do you can't help but gasp. A black haired man, built like a brick, is looking at the facade. That must be the guy. You open the door and pass your head through the crack.

"Toji?" you call hesitantly.

His head drops to meet your gaze and he nods. You're taken aback by the beautiful shade of his eyes, a deep captivating green. You feel the heat cripping to your cheeks but invite him inside.

"Did you find it easily ?" you start to break the ice.

"Yeah it's the only pastel colored shop in the business district" he laughs

You clear your throat in embarrassment, what's wrong with pastel color ?

"Anyways, so I suppose Shiu told you that I'm specialized in dessert and stuff, do you have any experience with that ?" you ask nervously.

"Not really in sweets, I used to cook for the army."

"Oh nice so you have some basis, I'll give you a quick tour."

The shop is small and only has a few seating tables so it goes pretty fast, pushing the swing door you're now behind the counter, and your fear comes to life. With the way he's built this feels like you're stepping on each other's feet. You open the door to the kitchen in a hurry needing to have some personal space again, it's the biggest room in the shop, and you walk him through it.

"So that's it, if you have any questions before we start don't hesitate and- oh! I almost forgot here is your apron, it's a spare of mine so I think it's going to be small but I'll go shop for others tomorrow." You say handing him the white colored clothes,

Now That you think about it, it also has lace details on the hem, you purse your lips the idea of this mountain of a man wearing a way too small apron with girly little details on it. Toji nods his head accepting the piece of cloth.

"So are you going to watch me change ?" he asks teasingly.

"N-no! Not at all the door here it's the break room, you can change there"You stutter over your word.

You put your own apron on, taking the ingredients that you need out of the fridge.

⠀༺ ✤ ༻

The morning rolls around fast and you're satisfied with Toji's way of working, he learns fast and is independent. The first customers start to walk in and you decide to put Toji at the desk to see how he interacts with them. And it's kind of catastrophic, not a smile in sight, no greetings or basic customer service sentences. You put your hand over your mouth looking at him. You go behind the counter, tapping his shoulder lightly.

"Toji, you know it would hurt anybody if you smiled a bit" you whisper not to expose him in front of the client sitting at the tables. "Look how I do with the next ones, yeah ?" He nods without saying a word.

Waiting patiently for the next customer, you rearrange the displayed goods, telling Toji how you like them to be presented. The bells at the doors ring and you put on your customer service smile, fading quickly when you realise who it is.

"Get out" you hiss.

"That's how you greet your friends now ? I just came by to see how the partnership is going" Shiu answers in his usual mischievous tone.

"It's great, now turn around and go away"

"Hmm i'll have the fondant aux poires please" you roll your eyes at his request serving him anyway.

"You're lucky i don't have tomatoes in here i'd ruin your suit"

"One day you'll thank me~" he says in a singsong voice handing you the cash "So toji how do you like it so far?"

"It's nice," he answers flatly.

You can't help but wonder if he really keeps this monotonous tone, and stone cold expression even with his friends. You turn around to meet his eyes and he's already looking at you, neutral expression, just grazing the scar on his lips with his fingers.

"Well I'll leave you to it then" Shiu says bidding you both farewell.

"So can I threaten the next customer?" Toji says leaning back on the counter.

" "Hello", and "have a nice day" will do, Forget about the smile" you say, hitting his arm lightly, going back to the kitchen.

At the end of the day you show Toji how to leave the kitchen ready for tomorrow, and everything clean. Outside of the shop you're both standing in front of each other awkwardly.

"Well i hope you enjoyed today" you laugh nervously "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, 8 am again ?"

You nod your head.

"See you then" he says, turning around going his ways.

Looking at him disappear, you think that this might not be as terrible as you thought, nobody ever denies a little help. This will do you think, this will do.

༺ ✤ ༻

You quickly get used to Toji, it's not like he's talkative, or particularly joyous but his presence makes you feel less lonely. He's less trouble then he seems, during the lunchbreak the two of you usually sit next to each other in the break area, when you were alone you would always put on some TV reality show to unwind. Now that Toji is here you still do, but he made fun of you for the first few days. Now he silently watches it with you, making comments from time to time.

Work wise you couldn't be more satisfied he quickly followed your rhythm and rarely complains. The only thing is that in such a small space you stopped counting the number of times you bumped into each other especially when behind the counter, he would always make snarky comments about how it's not an accident and you just want to feel his muscles. You always shut him off but he likes to see you so flustered.

One day Toji came to you looking thoughtful. You immediately pick up on it asking him what's wrong.

"Would...it be a problem if my son came to eat with us today ?" he asks, scratching his neck.

You're a bit dumbfounded, he has a son ? Of course Shiu didn't mention it.

"Hum yeah sure no problem" you says realising how few you really know about him

"Thanks, i should have warned you sooner but he only decided it a few minutes ago" he says avoiding your gaze

"It's fine, really, let's get back to work" you shut him off.

For the rest of the morning you can only think about Toji and his son, how old he's he ? Is it the reason why Shiu insisted for you to engage him ? Before you can think anymore about it the door opens, ringing the bell. You can see a small form rushing through the door and an adult following close behind, telling the kid to slow down.

"Megumi!" Toji beams as he takes the kid in his arms "Giving Tsumiki a hard time?" he laughs ruffling the hair of his son. The kid doesn't answer, hugging his father.

Tsumiki, the woman you suppose was following behind, is out of breath.

"Sorry about the cub, did he make you run around town again ?" Toji asks.

"No that's fine" she whispers, slowly breathing back to normal. "Enjoy your meal and I'll pick him up after hmm?"

Toji nods and she makes her way to the exit giving you a warm smile and a wave of her hand. You mimic her still not realising what happened.

"This is my son Megumi" Toji states awkwardly "Megumi says Hello" he whispers in his hair.

The kid turns around waving, not saying a word, well if it wasn't for the fact he's his dad spitting image, the attitude gives it away. You chuckle at the scene before you, leading them to the break room.

Dinner with the father and son duo was fun, they act exactly like each other, but Megumi is a bit more talkative you would say, he went on and on about the dogs he has back home and his friend Yuuji. This is the most information you have on the Fushiguro's. For dessert you offered Megumi a pastry and he happily devoured it. Tsumiki went to pick up the kid and the two of you resumed your shift. Since Toji brought a part of his private life here you allowed yourself to ask him a few questions, you learned that his wife passed away giving birth to their only son, and that Tsumiki is like a big sister to Megumi.

༺ ✤ ༻

Toji is not used to praise, or simply people talking to him without a second thought. To him, your sweetness hides something, so when you're both preparing the sweets of the day and you tell him how good he's doing, he snaps.

"Stop doing this" he tones. His harsh tone takes you aback, you furrow your brows.

"What are you talking about?" you ask genuinely intrigued

"Your stupid words of encouragement i'm not a toddler i don't need this, or your pity"

"This shop is all i have i don't care about your personal feelings, i care about your performance if you were doing bad i'll tell you too, you know what next time i'll tell you to fuck off when youre done with one of your task" you scoff losing patience.

Turning your back to him, you keep on decorating the cupcakes. The rest of the day was silent. Toji felt stupid for even mentioning that. He won't say it out loud but the silent treatment you're giving makes him miss your voice. He'll accept anything now, even the oversweet words.

༺ ✤ ༻

Today is the end of the week, on friday customers are rare in the afternoon. This is usually the day you take your time to try new recipes. Sitting on the counter you're eating a blueberry crumble with cream on the top.

"Solitary pleasure ?" Toji's voice interrupts you.

The both of you quickly made up after the little fight and everything is back to normal, even his little teasing. Heat creeps to your cheeks at his comment and you clear your throat.

"No just trying some new stuff" you stammers

"And can I have a bite?" he smiles.

You nod, extending your hand. A normal person would have picked up the sweet from your hand but not Toji, supporting your hand with his, he dips his head low, eating straight from your skin. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your skin makes you shiver. What is wrong with him ? He looks at you through his lashes and you instinctively close your thighs. He straightens his back, licking his lips.

"Don't close your thighs on me darling" he purrs with a smirk growing on his lips.

You hit him with your feet, getting off the counter to wash your hands in the nearby sink. The water runs against your skin and you try to forget what he feels like against you. But he seems to have other plans. Caging you against the counter, Toji takes your hands in his, spreading the soap on your limbs. His chest feels like a wall behind you, he's hot and strong, you relax in his touch and wonder how his tongue would feel on every part of your body. He keeps on massaging your hands as he rubs against your ass.

"Toji stop" you blurt in a meek voice, you're not even convincing yourself.

"You sure you want me to stop? you have goosebumps all over" he whispers in your neck. "And I can tell you want me, everytime i pass behind you you clutch your little thighs or your cute little apron," he adds, kissing your neck.

You moan out loud at the feeling. He stops the water, drying both your hands on the closest piece of clothes. Toji turns you around, locking your lips in a heated kiss. You completely let yourself go at his contact, locking your arm behind his neck as you start to grind on him too. He places a knee between your legs and your clit catches at every fiber of his jeans making you squirm. You can already feel yourself getting wet, as well as he's getting hard under your ministrations.

Lifting your hips, Toji places you on the counter. You shiver against the cold marble. Breaking the kiss you get rid of your apron and his. He rips open your blouse, attacking your nipples with his warm mouth. Your back arch off the counter in pleasure, as his tongue twirls against your sensitive bud. With his free hand toji reaches for the bowl of cream you used for your cake he places the cold mixture on your other tits lapping hungrily at it.

"Fuck Toji" you cry at the hot and cold sensation.

You're getting wetter by the second and want to feel him inside of your pussy right now. You let your hand travel to your pants working the zipper down. Toji lifts your lower body off the counter so you can properly take it off. He does the same for himself and you pat him through his boxer. Fuck he's big, you bite your lips.

"Scared ?" he asked with a grin.

You bite hard on his neck as an answer, he chuckles. You stroke his cock a few times and spread your legs when you feel he's hard enough. The tip of his cock runs against your folds and you clench his shoulders. Slowly entering you, you let your head fall backward at the stretch feeling.

"God that tight little pussy" he rasps in your ear

"You like that? you taunt petting his hair

Letting your back hit the counter once more, he hides his face in the crook of your neck as he begins a slow pace in your cunt. His big cock pushes your gummy walls all the way. It's been a long time since you've been fuck like that. The faster he gets the louder you moan.

"Shit Toji, just like that, good boy"

His hips stutter at your words and he groans.

"Say it again" he growls.

"You're a good boy," you say, kissing his jaw.

"More"

"My good boy" you purr right next to his ear.

A defeated sound escapes his mouth and picks up the pace ramming into your pussy full force. Each thrusts lock you harder against the counter while you dig your nails into his muscular back. Turning you around Toji places you in a doggy style position. Your hair is firmly locked in one of his hands while he pounds into you. He's close you can't tell. you're not far away either. He keeps rutting into you, the knot in your belly is getting closer to snap with each thrust.

"Make me cum Toji please be good to me" you moan on the verge of your orgasm .

A few more thrust and you cum undone, face pressed against the cold counter. Your muscles squeezing around his length make him shoot all of his cum deep inside of you. YOu're both moaning, and breathing heavily. His head rests against your sweaty back, you can feel his dick twitching inside of you.

Catching normal breaths you straighten your back.Toji is locking you against his torso in the process, his beefy arms resting on your belly. You're glad he does because your legs feel like jelly right now. Catching a few of the whipped cream with your finger you raise it to his mouth he licks it looking at you in the eyes.

"What a good little boy, you want more ?" you taunt

He squeezes his arms tighter around you and you apologize, laughing a bit. Guess you really have to thank Shiu for that.

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literaila · 8 months

Note

verity what would you think about writing another peter x reader in which peter becomes a photographer and has to take pictures of reader and he develops a thing for her and he thinks that reader just flirts with him for fun and he's totally okay with that because he's a fool for her but after teasing peter and messing with him for a good amount of time she asks him out ? maybe inspired by "suck it and see" by arctic monkeys? thank you !!

chemistry

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: the science jokes are real with this one

peter needed to get over himself. that much was clear.

honestly, he had the ability to rip out his eyes and throw them down the garbage disposal, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he might have to. just to get some sanity back.

it wasn’t really his fault he was staring at you. no, it wasn’t his fault at all.

he was getting paid to stare at you. you had hired him to do this. to take pictures of you when you looked like this—partially glowing from the light, wearing a devious smile like you might be trying to crack his lens—and not get called a pervert for it.

his movements were automatic now. he’d done this enough—admired strangers and tried to pull the best out of them—but it was never quite like this. with every click of a button, and the perfectly adjusted flash, peter felt himself getting a bit hazy.

it would be his luck to faint while taking pictures of a pretty girl.

a pretty girl who’s head was tilted at him, eyes questioning, because she’d just said something and he was too busy scolding himself to notice

get yourself together.

“hmm?” peter asked, moving a step closer to you. “sorry i missed it.”

you smile like he’s said something funny. “should i try something else?” you say, “i’m not used to posing.”

“you’re doing great. you’re a natural.”

maybe a little too great. you blink at him, eyes darting away and sigh. even then, if peter took a photo, he’s sure it would come out perfectly. he probably wouldn’t need to edit any of these, even.

but he also probably would. just to stare at you some more.

“well, you’re the expert.”

but peter frowns. “are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“just—“ you shake your head. “will you tell me a joke, or something? i feel… awkward. i have no idea what i’m doing.”

“tell you a joke?” peter repeats, slightly amused.

“or just talk to me. anything.”

“sure,” he says, easily, nodding his head a bit too much. maybe it’s because you sort of whispered it, and peter sort of felt it on every single on of his nerve endings. “i, um,” he raises his brows. “i think i just forgot every joke i’ve ever heard.”

you laugh with your head tilted back and he snaps a shot. “just tell me about you, then.”

“me?”

“yes, peter parker, the photographer… and? part time comedian? full time alcoholic? father of six?”

peter frowns. “how old do you think i am?“

“old enough to be a professional photographer.”

“i don’t know if i would call myself a professional…” he winces, smiling a bit and feeling embarrassed for himself. flushed and completely ashamed because he’s usually better at this.

he can calm a clients nerves in five minutes. he can make people laugh and get the candid shot that he knows they’re looking for. he can turn an awkward social interaction into getting drinks after a shoot.

but there’s something about you and your smile, and the easy way you talk, like the words just fall out of your mouth and into place.

“i saw your prints,” you correct, shaking your head at him, “why do you think i hired you?”

“free eye candy?”

and then you actually laugh, chest releasing, and peter watches as your eyes squint at him like you’ve finally realized who you’re talking to.

it’s second nature when he presses the button.

“oh, yeah. i just googled ‘hottest male photographer in queens’ and yours was the first that came up.”

“i knew that ad would pay off eventually.”

“really, though. i’ve only got you for another twenty minutes so you’ve gotta tell me something good.”

peter frowns and moves to your left, changing the zoom on his camera and dimming the light. “i didn’t know you were paying for a gossip session.”

“okay, so you don’t like to talk about yourself. what else?”

he catches you as you adjust your hair, the light shining on the side of your face, gleaming off of you like something out of a sci-fi film.

peter shakes his head—his head is feeling a bit off. “um… i want to get a cat.”

you smile, completely darling and enough to knock a breath out of his chest. “i’ll add caring to the list. why haven’t you?”

“well, my apartment doesn’t really allow it…” he pauses for a moment playing with some settings. the two of you are dancing in circles, like a pendulum, when you move, he moves. “and also i’m not sure that i’d remember to feed it.”

“most animals make sure you remember. when i was a kid my dog would jump on whoever was closest when it was time for dinner.”

peter almost winces, and then catches himself. “i also think i’d poison it with my energy. it’d forget how to move its tail.”

“well, i’ve been around you for almost an hour and a half now and i can safely say that i still have control over all of my limbs.”

“good to know…” peter mutters while frowning at his screen. there’s nothing wrong with his camera, or with you, just with his hands. and his heart.

“everything okay?”

he shakes his head, then nods, clearing his throat. “yeah—yeah. i’m just messing with the settings.”

“are you getting anything good? useable?”

“they’re all good,” he says—to himself and out loud like a complete idiot. and then he looks up, awkwardly laughing. “like i said, you’re a natural.”

“even if you’re lying,” you tease, undeterred by his awkwardness, “i’m sure you’ll fix it all before i see.”

“i’m not lying, but yeah.”

when you smile, he smiles back.

“okay,” you say, moving. “what else? got any friends or family? any plans after this?”

“which question am i supposed to answer?”

“all of them, peter.”

he chuckles. “it’s mostly just me and my aunt. and a couple of long lost cousins. as for friends, i’ve kept in touch with some people from college. oh, and me and the john down the street who makes me a sandwich everyday are close.”

you lift your head, revealing the skin of your neck and jaw to peter. and a fetish he didn’t know he had. “and after this?”

“i’ll probably just go home and edit these, actually.”

“it’s friday.”

he shrugs. squinting at you before the next shot. he’s not even really looking.

“nothing fun?” you ask him. “surely you’ll be sick of my face after this.”

“that’d be hard.”

he watches a sheepish smile reveal itself on your face before it’s gone. you look away. “you’re young, peter. you should be having fun.”

“what are you doing after this?” peter asks, as a challenge.

your brows lift. “this seems like a line.”

he laughs. “not like that.”

you shrug and blink when the flash goes off. “i’ll figure out something. are there any good bars nearby?”

peter pauses, dropping his camera. “are we back to the alcoholic thing.”

“no,” you laugh, “we’re way past that. i just think that your flash is giving me a bit of an adrenaline rush. i could use a calm me down.”

“you okay?”

“i’m kidding, peter. keep going, you’re almost a free man.”

so he does.

you continue to prod him with personal questions, attacking him with your smile and your unsurprisingly sharp wit. you throw his words right back to him, and peter knows, in his deepest of thoughts, that he’s going to be hearing your voice later on.

that when he’s looking back on these pictures, he’s going to see a timeline of your allure, and of his own demise.

he’s already loving and dreading it.

he finishes up by making you laugh from your nose, loud and unprecedented, and so genuinely rewarding that peter has to refrain from clapping himself on the back.

you smile at him as you slip on your jacket, still talking to him, acting too smooth to be just polite.

peter also has to refrain himself from trying to shake your head as he walks you to the door. he tries not to stare any longer, knowing what kind of night he has in store.

“when should i be seeing the pictures?” you ask him, lingering when you finally get to the door.

“sometime next week. i’ll email you a preview with a few different editing styles that you can pick from and then i’ll finish the album.”

“email?”

he scoffs, opening the door for you. “i’ll have you know that not everyone is as young and hip as you. do you know how many grandparents want photos with their family?”

“it just doesn’t seem like you, peter. i’d thought you’d train a carrier pigeon.”

he shakes his head at you, trying to hide his smile.

“but, seriously, thank you so much,” you say to him, voice full and easy, and honest. he can feel your heart and smell your perfume. “i know i’m a lot. especially when i’m nervous.”

“i’m just glad you didn’t ask me about my social security number.”

you reflectively smack yourself on the forehead. “i knew i forgot something.”

peter laughs, letting you slip past him trying to avoid your touch. he doesn’t, and if benjamin franklin was there, he might’ve discovered a whole different type of electricity.

“i’ll talk to you soon,” peter says, and your close enough that it’s almost a whisper. “just let me know if there’s any issues with the pictures, or you have any questions. you’ve got my number.”

“i do.”

his body feels physically repelled from inside the studio, but he forces himself to take a step in anyway. “have a good weekend.”

“you too.”

and then you turn to go, and peter can’t help but stare. he hopes that the tint on the shop windows is enough to keep you from noticing.

but before he can close the door—and mind that it took him an outrageously stupid amount of time—you’re turning back around.

“wait, peter,” you say, voice breathless and jagged. like peters hands as they rush to push open the door again.

it’s embarrassing how quickly he manages to do it.

“yes?”

you smile, like you know exactly what he’s thinking. peter will have that smile branded into his brain.

“do you wanna come with me to get that drink?” you ask him, softly, and wide, with a smile that bursts blood vessels.

peter really needs to get over himself.

629 notes · View notes

reiniesainyo · 2 months

Text

IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 06

06 | NONSENSE previous | next | masterfile

SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)

A/N. exam season in the philippines rn + prepping for a lot of compets so i can't do much but here's a little tease because i'm so so so fun btw thoughts on a dallas liu x reader???? idk yet lawl

liked by iamcharliebushnell, dallas_liu, and 387,293 others thelnarchives life lately has just been one big food trip

user1 she's so pretty it's crazy...........

user2 who's in first slide????

iamcharliebushnell why didn't you post a picture of my dumplings? thelnarchives because they're ugly, charles. so ugly. so so so so so ugly. iamcharliebushnell moragnlogoff You can't win this one bro

user3 why tf are my worlds colliding ... one piece and pjo user4 Keep scrolling you'll be shocked a bit more

user5 her life looks so fun i want to be reborn as her left ear user6 bro what

leahsavajeffries imy!!! let's hang out soon pls thelnarchives anything for you !!

dallas_liu when are you gonna post your ad for the dumpling workshop? thelnarchives trying to fix some of my clients (you and charlie) first so i got that 100% guarantee momonatanada that's unfixable

user7 ATLA AND PJO INTERACTING THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE user8 it's them hanging out not just comments i' gonna faint

avantika wife! user8 AVANTIKA??????

user9 dallas liu, momona, yn, charlie, all hanging out????? user10 morgan davies too!! user11 avantika???? user12 PJO x ATLA x Mean Girls x One Piece

RAY! @ zukokinnie the fuck is happening right now... charlie, yn, dallas, momona, mogran davies, avantika hanging out? together? something is up 🗨 12 comments 🔁 99 retweets ❤️ 293 likes

user1 hear me out, new tv show ↳ user2 no because dallas was on the red carpet this week talking about exciting stuff coming up and when they asked if it was a season 2 atla, he said not quite

user3 i want to see them in a movie together but they might just be friends ↳ zukokinnie NOOOOOO but also like powerful friend group but also PROJECT PLS

user4 honestly i love these folks but they need to stare in an original series, like their careers are taking off they need original source material

user5 avantika, momona, yn in one group that's insane that's future hollywood

173 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

Last Hope // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2

Summary: Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

Tags: 18+ readers only, angst, fluff, abusive brother, emotional manipulation/abuse, murder/violence, blood/injury, depression, enemies to lovers, possessive, protective steve rogers, hurt/comfort idiots in love

A/N: ahh it’s finally here! I contemplated posting the two parts in one but its oner 19k words long so probably easier to read as two separate parts. Please enjoy!

Words: 11.2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

To an outsider looking through the glass walls of your life, it would look to be filled with excitement, thrillful, and definitely desirable. But to you, those walls were a cage, entrapping you in danger and gut-wrenching sadness and on occasions, those feelings had nearly destroyed you but now, you welcomed them, finally being able to feel something.

From the moment you were born, you’d been surrounded by criminals. The kind of people that only cared for themselves and would kill even their best friend if it meant they could increase in the hierarchy chain. This lifestyle was the way of your family, almost like it was instinct, the only way to survive in a world full of darkness and terror.

In reality, this was simply the lie that your brother had been feeding you from childhood. As if it was completely normal for parents to mysteriously disappear one evening, leaving their entire business in the hands of their greedy son, your brother Enzo who boasted that this was the only way to survive.

Enzo was as corrupt as gangsters come, his ease with murdering coming as easy to him as breathing, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone as he gained control of the underground criminal workings in Staten Island. He prided himself on his reputation, as a dangerous man with a business to run. There were multiple companies that he had close ties to but the majority of his finances were in robberies but not the kind that had banks held at gunpoint. No, Enzo had a vast team of experts that had connections with jewellery, cars, paintings - anything that could be sold through the black market and it made him untouchable and untraceable.

Where did you come into all this? You didn’t, not in the grand scheme of the business. Enzo often liked to taunt you that you didn’t have the heart to be at his esteemed level of ruthless and you were more than happy to watch from the sidelines, even though the violence was something you’d become accustomed to, it didn’t mean that you were wanting to do it.

Instead, you were used in other ways, Enzo mostly using you as a bargaining chip for his clients, you’d have to flirt and sweet talk your way into their lives, a couple of dates and kisses to convince them to work with your brother as if you were nothing more then a piece of pretty meat for the worthless people to use. Every single interaction made you feel sick and dirty but luckily he had not asked you to fuck anyone yet however, your brother always liked to threaten that he would sell your virginity if you ever stepped out of line.

This was the life that you survived, the belittling, the threats and feeling hardly like a person at all. To you, Enzo was hardly even your brother with the way he talked about and treated you, reminding you on a daily basis that you lived under his roof so you must live by his rules or be thrown to the streets with not even a shirt to cover your back.

So you stayed and played by his rules because this was the only life that you knew, there were no other friends or family, no money stored away in a hidden box to one day set yourself free. There was only waking up and going to sleep, and everything in between to fuel your nightmares.

The only instruction you’d been given this morning was to dress up, which meant wearing as little as possible to lure people in. This wasn’t something you particularly want to be doing any day of the week but especially as the autumnal winds were beginning to brisk.

Tonight was an important event that was both well known and yet incredibly secret, most guests having to travel for hours to arrive at the underground venue. It was known as the ‘Pick-Me-Up’ event, weapons were banned upon entry and it gave goers the opportunity to meet other criminals, mafia members etc and hold business meetings, all under the disguise of a party. The concept alone caused a thick lump to lodge in your throat upon every swallow as silent nerves teetered your emotions, being around that many powerful people, it was your idea of hell.

Not for your brother though, in fact, he had been extremely nonchalant about the situation, stating: “It should be me that they’re scared of”. This was one thing you could not fault Enzo on, was his egotistical self-confidence, the man thought and believed he was untouchable. At least for this once, you weren’t instructed to flirt or speak to any of the attendees, you were only going to look pretty and draw attention to the gang.

The bass of the music vibrated deep into your bones before you even stepped into the main room of the venue, the air thick due to the number of people, sweat already gathering across your skimpily dressed body. You’d tried to stay close to Enzo and his bodyguards but with the busy crowd, your brother was able to slip away to the meeting rooms without a care for your safety, leaving you to the hungry wolves.

Not risking stopping your stride, you kept walking and pushing your way past the men and women, too frightened to look up. An empty spot at the bar caught your eye and with rushed steps, you allowed yourself a moment to catch your breath and held your body close to the counter. The space you were in was small and everyone seemed to tower over you, especially the guy sitting to your right at the bar, but you didn’t pay him or anybody any attention as you leaned further over the bar, catching the barman's attention.

“Glass of tap water, please”. You contemplated having a glass of whatever was their cheapest alcohol but realised that Enzo had rushed off without giving you any money so free tap water it was. Maybe it was a good idea to have a clear mind when surrounded by so many people.

There was a commotion next to your left side, a couple of boisterous men talking so loudly that you could easily identify what they were saying over the music. As the barman handed over your glass filled with water, one of the arguing men bashed into your arm, causing you to squeeze into the large body to your right, some of your drink spilling from the abrupt movement.

“Hey asshole, watch the lady!” the tall man stood and shoved the guy over your shoulder, instantly giving you some space as you tried to fix your posture.

“Who the fuck do you think-”, the guy who had caused all of the commotion had turned to shout at whoever had pushed him but seeing who it was, the words died in his throat. “Sor…sorry”, he mumbled an apology before the group moved away, giving you even more freedom to move.

Your heart seemed to stop however, even the music seemed quieter as fear pulsed through your body, seeing who had been standing next to you and who had just pushed someone away from you, now understanding the scared reaction.

Steve Rogers didn’t need any introductions, everyone on the East Side knew of the Rogers Mafia leader.

The gang were renowned for being ferocious, heartless and vicious and ruled over the entire Brooklyn area. You’d never even been in the same room as him before, only noticing him from files that Enzo had shown you on who to look out for when attending these events, who not to piss off and who to sweet talk, Steve Rogers was definitely someone not to piss off.

He was breathtakingly handsome, something that only made him more dangerous, his blonde hair that curled around his ears, piercing ocean-blue eyes that darkened around the iris and his hulking form that screamed power and strength.

Steve Rogers was formidable and he was staring down at you, saying something that you couldn’t hear over the panicked buzzing in your ears—a couple of seconds passed as you held the glass of water tighter to your chest, finally relaxing enough to hear what he was asking.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes… thank you”. Without wasting any further time, you rushed off in a different direction, pushing harder against the throng of people, wanting to get away as fast as you could, not caring where you ended up. The entire time, you could feel him watching you, even risking a glance over your shoulder to see that he had fully turned his body in your direction and was watching you leave with a curious expression.

Your feet stumbled quicker in your haste to find somewhere else to be, but every room seemed to be busy and locked. Eventually, there were some stairs hidden behind a gate that no one seemed to be trespassing which meant: calm and peace. Climbing the stairs, the music quietening with each step upwards, the only sound is your heavy breathing, heels clicking against the floor and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

The stairs led up to the roof and you sighed happily at the fresh, crisp air that cooled your heated skin. Relief flooded your emotions as you walked further onto the empty rooftop, stopping when you reached the ledge that was tall enough that you could lean on it. Placing your glass onto the ridge, you admired the beautiful sight of the city and night sky.

Moments like these were the ones you craved every day, the dreams that you could imagine looking up towards the sparkling stars, dreaming that you were anywhere else with a different family and a better life. It was your crutch, these moments of escape, the small spark of hope that you wished one day would blossom into reality.

You were never sure how much time slipped away when you had these daydreams but as the fire escape door opened, you knew a significant amount had passed by the chill sweeping over your body now.

Your spine straightened as you turned to see who had found your hidden corner of the party and the dread that had encompassed you downstairs returned full force as Steve Rogers stepped outside, hands in his pockets, closing his eyes and savouring the cool air, much like you had.

He hadn’t noticed your presence at first and for a moment you hoped that he would move to the other side of the roof so that you could escape the way that you came but you were never that lucky as his blue eyes snapped to yours, shock evident on his face finding someone else up here. “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was up here”.

“That’s ok... I can go”, your voice didn’t sound anywhere near as confident as his. Quickly picking up your glass, you began to leave but he held out a hand, a small smile on his handsome face.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to go. You were here first anyway but there’s plenty of space up for the two of us”.

Now you felt inclined to stay, not wanting to look rude, especially to the most powerful man in the state so you nodded your head once and returned to looking out over the city. From the corner of your eye, you could see Steve approaching closer, stopping a few feet away and resting his forearms against the ledge. You were hyperaware of everything, the way you couldn’t slow your breathing rate down and the slight tremble in your hands, it was hard to remain calm.

Steve glanced over, eyes flicking over your form as you pretended like you weren’t watching from the corner of your eye. “I’m Steve”, he introduced himself, voice deep and yet oddly calming, matching the serene setting.

“I know”, your automatic response caused your to wince at the rudeness and brash tone you hadn’t meant to use. You’d been in rooms with dangerous men your entire life and had to flirt with many of them to get what your brother wanted, you needed to try and regain some sort of control. “Sorry, I mean… I think everyone knows who you are. I’m Y/N.” For a second you contemplated mentioning who your brother was so that he knew who you’d arrived with but for some reason, couldn’t admit to it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N”, Steve responded, sounding surprisingly genuine before looking back over the city. “Beautiful view, I much prefer being up here than being locked in a tight room full of bozos”.

The seriousness in his voice had a laugh bubbling in your chest at realising you weren’t the only one to feel like this party was utter hell. Looking up towards the night sky, admiring the twinkles you agreed, “It is beautiful”.

Feeling eyes on your face, you looked towards Steve, seeing that he was watching you with an interested expression before it turned to one of confusion, eyebrows frowning slightly as his head tilted, asking, “Have we met before?”

Now it was your turn to be confused, “No I don’t think so. I think I would remember your face”. Your cheeks immediately burned at your unfiltered response, not meaning for it to sound like you were flirting but with the smirk that formed on his face, you knew that was exactly how it sounded to him. It wasn’t like what you said was wrong, he was handsome.

Steve thankfully brushed over the comment much to your embarrassment, “I definitely feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before”. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, his eyes continued to asses your face which only made you feel more self-conscious under his watchful gaze and then his eyes brightened to match the grin spreading across his face, “Cake Bakes, right? You order cinnamon buns?”

Your jaw slackened with shock as he spoke the name of your local bakery that you visited like clockwork every Thursday. Was he following you? Was all of this an elaborate plan to get you by yourself and take you, hostage?

Steve realised how bizarre his comment must have sounded and held up his hands, showing his empty palms in defence, “Oh shit, sorry that sounded weirder than it was supposed to. I promise I’m not stalking you, quite the opposite actually I uh… I’m in there most days to refresh our bakery stocks at the office and see you quite a lot”.

The blonde Mafia leader was of course downplaying the way in which he saw you at the bakery so as to not freak you out any further than you already were. You’d been the mysterious cinnamon bun girl that he had soon become addicted to seeing even just a glimpse of your pretty face, and if he was lucky then a smile as you accepted the baked goods. Even going as far as to volunteer himself to collect the food every week so that he might see you, even though he could easily find someone else to do the job for him. He was also highly aware of how much of a creep it would seem if he approached you one day so always admired from afar and with his job, it wasn’t like he could walk up to random women and ask them on dates when he was the most prolific mobster in Brooklyn. But seeing you here now, he couldn’t help but say something, almost like his body took over before he could think any of it through and seeing you all dressed up, it took him a good while to realise the scantily-dressed woman standing before him was his precious cinnamon bun girl.

You were frowning, trying to think about all the times you’d been into Cake Bakes, surely you would notice if a dangerous man was in there enough times to recognise you? Think, think think….

A clear image popped into your mind, a smile slipping over your features as you looked up at him, “black baseball hat, and sunglasses right?”, referring to the man that was always waiting for orders in the corner of the shop.

“Guilty”, Steve grinned sheepishly, stepping closer and angling his body more towards yours from where he still leaned his weight casually against the side.

Now you were unable to hold back that laugh that shook your body, hand resting on your stomach as it ached with how much you laughed, a sight that Steve became instantly addicted to. Finally, you were able to find some composure to say, “Good disguise, I’ve never clocked on to the fact that the infamous Steve Rogers had a sweet tooth”.

“Well, can’t have my reputation ruined now, could I?”

You genuinely smiled at him, wondering if you should reveal this next piece of information but unable to hold your tongue, “You do know that they call you the Muffin Man in there after you leave? They never understand how one person can carry so many baked goods”.

Steve’s cheeks actually bloomed with a tint of rose as he attempted to hide a smile, looking at his feet in a rare show of embarrassment, “should have guessed that the Muffin Man written on the receipt wasn’t the name of the baker”.

You laughed again before picking up your water and taking a sip, finally calming enough by hiding your face behind the glass. You couldn’t believe it as it dawned on you that… you were actually laughing with Steve fucking Rogers and his presence didn’t make you want to rip your skin off from feeling dirty, it was actually quite nice even though there were still warning bells alarming at the back of your consciousness.

The two of you remained in natural silence, still admiring the view which Steve admitted to himself was definitely you but he tried not to look for too long, knowing he could be addicted to trying to mesmerise your face to memory.

His curiosity got the better of him though as he asked subtly, “Isn’t there someone looking for you downstairs?”

You tried and failed to not choke on your drink, coughing a few times before shaking your head, “No, I’m here with my brother but he’s in some meetings”.

A frown crossed over Steve’s face, “meetings? So he’s got to be pretty important to be invited to those”.

You shrugged, looking down at your feet, “Enzo’s a busy guy I guess”.

“Enzo… as in Staten Island Enzo?” Steve asked, shocked when you were nodding to his question. “Hmm”, Steve pondered, glancing over his shoulder at the empty rooftop before looking back down at you, “where are your bodyguards? Enzo’s a pretty big deal from what I’ve heard, I’m sure there's a big target on his back with people looking for him, which by association means they are looking for you too”.

You didn’t dare look up, every word that Steve spoke was true and you had to try and think hard for a professional way of answering, instead of simply revealing that Enzo just didn’t care for your safety. “I managed to sneak away from security in the crowd, needed a moment of peace to myself”, the lie dripped from your tongue relatively easily and you made sure to look up at him even though looking into his eyes made your heart beat quicken.

Steve didn’t believe your excuse, noting the fact that you were always by yourself when visiting Cake Bakes and if he noticed you then he was sure others would. “They must be some shitty guards if you’re able to sneak away from them. I think you’d have some good competition if you tried to sneak away from my guards Bucky or Sam”.

Those two names you’d also heard of before, but it seemed that everyone involved within the Rogers Mafia were highly trained and feared individuals.

A shiver shook through your body as another blast of ice-cold wind stroked over your exposed body parts, causing goosebumps to lay over your skin. Steve noticed your chill, “do you want to head back inside before you catch your death out here?”

You didn’t miss the way in which he leaned his body closer to yours so that his arm gently pressed against you and impulsively you inclined into his warmth. Shaking your head, you answered honestly, “I’d much rather prefer to be a bit cold out here than in that hell hole downstairs”.

Steve agreed with a slow nod of the head and didn’t waste another second before shrugging off his navy jacket and placing it gently over your shoulders. Before you could decline, your body instantly felt relieved at the unnaturally warm material, and when his aftershave that stained the jacket wafted into your senses, your mouth watered.

Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you accepted the jacket, pulling it close around your frame, softly thanking him with a smile that reached your eyes. What was going on?, you thought as you assessed the situation. Of course, it could all be an act on Steve’s part but he hadn’t even known you were related to Enzo when he found you so wasn’t being nice for the sake of getting into the gang but then, why were the rumours about Steve so volatile and nasty because the man standing next to you now, willing to bare the cold and genuinely asking you questions was not the man you thought he would be.

Now it was your turn to be curious, facing your body fully towards him now, “Why are you up here? I would have thought that the most sought-after leader would be in meetings all night?”

“Ah, Buck’s taking one for the team and doing them for me. I’ve been in enough bullshit meetings for a lifetime and would it be cheesy to say I preferred the company up here and in no rush to return?”

You giggled, actually giggled as your cheeks warmed, “Yes I would say that was a little cheesy you smooth talker”.

The conversation came easy for the two of you, it felt like with each word he spoke, you were desperate to ask more, see the genuine reactions on his face as you held the joinings of his jacket together, it felt like a comforting cocoon, a safe space.

Those words seemed to taunt your conscious thoughts. A safe space. You’d never felt that way before, never had someone ask questions and be interested in your life. You’d never even had someone offer a jacket before to save you from the chill, it was all building that small spark of hope that you had been wishing for.

Once more the time seemed to pass without a care in the world, even as your feet began to ache from standing in the heels you’d picked, you still wanted to stay with Steve. But reality had to ruin the little sanctuary as Steve’s phone began to buzz with a text that he read quickly and his joy seeped away before your very eyes.

“All the meetings are over”.

“Shit”, you whispered in disdain, realising that you needed to go back downstairs to find your brother. Steve offered his hand out in front of you to allow you to lead the way and you both moved in the direction that you’d arrived and down the stairs.

The music thumped louder with each descent of the stairs as the party was still in full force and most likely to continue into the early hours of the morning. As you pushed your way through the crowds with Steve behind you, his hand on your lower back to help your way through but all you could think about was how big and hot it felt, even through the clothes.

Finally, you spotted Enzo and his gang members, lounging in a booth next to the speakers, drinking beer and definitely not looking for you.

Steve leaned down so you could hear but once again, with the close proximity, all you were able to concentrate on was seeing his face this close-up and trying to take in every detail that you could, “If you get into any trouble and those shitty guards can’t look after you, you can always come and find me, sweetheart”.

Usually, you loathed pet names but coming from his full lips, you couldn’t help but smile up at him, watching as he turned and left to find his own people, not before checking over his shoulder a few times to see you still watching, a smirk playing on his lips at this thought.

As Steve disappeared into the crowd, you finally felt your feet become unglued from the floor and moved to join your brother who was watching with a fire lit in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

It was only as you sat next to him did you realise that you were still wearing Steve’s jacket and you couldn’t deny that you probably still had time to run and find him to give it back, but instead wanted to be selfish and keep this comforting material for a little while longer, deciding you could find him at the end of the party.

“What?”, you finally asked as Enzo still hadn’t looked away.

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he nodded in the direction that Steve left, “he’s your next target”, he casually revealed.

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, feeling like ice had been doused over you.

“I need a meeting with him and he’s notorious for not accepting them, but I’ve got some dealings in his area, something that he's inserted himself in so you are going to use your assets like you have been with him all night, and get me my meeting”.

There was no use arguing as Enzo turned away from you, effectively cutting off your conversation with a dismissal. You felt deflated and sick at the mission given to you. Steve had been kind and clearly hated these sorts of functions and now you were expected to betray the little trust that you’d both formed, flirt with him more just to ask for a meeting with Enzo? You hated this, hated that this was your life and even more, detested your brother more than anyone for ruining the hopeful spark that had formed.

Over the next few days, you’d been going out of your way to ignore Enzo and his dreadful request however eventually his patience ran out as he forced you to sit in a chair and swear that you’d continue with the plan. You agreed but only due to the little threatening of the gleaming knife pressed against your throat.

Enzo had increasingly become more aggressive with his threats the older you were and the more reluctant you were to go through with the orders. So with no other option, you began to make a plan, cursing yourself for not asking for Steve’s phone number on the rooftop but at least there was one place that knew he would be, on Thursday, like clockwork.

The smell of the baked goods wafted down the street and had your stomach growling in anticipation for your treat, momentarily distracting you from the plan you were reluctantly going through with. Opening the door and hearing the tinny bell ring upon entry, even if you hadn’t wanted to, your eyes searched the seating area and straight away spotted the hulking form, with his hat and glasses, sitting up straighter in his chair as he also looked you over.

Biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, you approached the cake display, casually chatting with the store owners who prepared your order without asking what you’d like. At one point, you risked a glance over your shoulder and saw that Steve was very much still watching you, his head tilted in wonder.

“Thank you”, you accepted your order and finally moved towards Steve who was sitting at a table for two, a different spot as he was usually in the corner leaning against the shop window. He must have been hoping that you would be joining too. “Hi”, you spoke softly, suddenly full of nerves but not because of the plan, but because you were actually excited to see him which was a foreign sensation for you.

“I still can’t believe that your brother lets you walk around without a bodyguard”, Steve spoke lowly so no one could overhear, a teasing smile seen beneath his shades.

“And I still can’t believe your disguise has worked for so long”, was your sassed response as you sat in the spare seat, resting your hands on the table.

Steve subtly adjusted his hat, pulling it lower over his face to hide his grin which only made yours widen, a bubbling feeling in your stomach due to making him smile, knowing that you wanted to make him do it again.

“How was the rest of the party?”, Steve changed the subject, clasping his hands together and leaning across the table until he was only inches away from touching where your hands lay and you had to refrain from reaching for him. Even from beneath his shades, you could see his eyes searching across your face.

“I tried to find you again to return your jacket to you, but you were gone”.

Steve sat back in his chair, contemplating your words but then his posture showed slight hints of arrogance as his legs spread and his arm rested on the back of the chair, “looked better on you anyway, sweetheart”.

There he goes with the pet names again that had your pulse fluttering with excitement. And was he actually flirting with you?

“Are you flirting with me?”, you asked with a coy smile.

“Yes, is it working?” he answered confidently.

“Maybe”, you had to turn your face towards the Cakes Bakes staff to try and hide your smile and warmed face, you noticed that they were all watching the two of you with excitement, pretending to go back to work after being caught. You guessed it must have been weird that two of their most popular customers, who were always there but never spoke were now sitting at a table and chatting like close friends.

Steve continued speaking referring to the jacket, snapping your attention back to him, “It’s fine, you can always give it back to me tonight”.

The excitement you’d been experiencing instantly ceased to exist due to having to give the jacket back. In all honesty, maybe it was slightly odd but you had found some weird comfort in his jacket, particularly the aftershave that lingered in the material. Frequently you found yourself breathing deeply from it, savouring the scents and letting the memories of the one night of happiness you’d seemed to experience.

“Oh right, yeah, of course, I can get someone to drop it off or-”

Steve quickly cut you off, leaning close once more as his voice lowered, “You’ve misunderstood me, Baby, you can give it back to me when I take you out to dinner tonight”.

“Ah…right”, you say in shock, letting his words tumble through your mind before not bothering to hide your smile, “there you go with the smooth-talking again Steve”.

His Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as he swallowed harshly, huskily saying, “I like it when you say my name”.

Your eyes snapped to his lips, feeling yourself becoming more heated as you stared, your imagination getting the better of you with where those lips could touch and tease and…

“Your orders ready!”, one of the workers shouted to Steve, breaking the thickening tension between the two of you.

Both of you stood as he collected his stack of boxes from the counter, thanking the workers and you politely held the door open for you. “You never answered my question by the way”, Steve stated as you both stood in the middle of the bath, looking to leave in different directions.

“Well, it hardly seemed like a question and more a statement but regardless, yes I would love to go to dinner with you”.

Steve grinned now, showing off his perfectly white teeth, “Thank god. Do you know the new restaurant three blocks over? How about I book us a table for 7? I’d offer to pick you up but I’m assuming your brother wouldn’t like me knowing his home address with our line of jobs”.

This made sense and you couldn’t help but bounce on your toes a little bit with excitement, holding the bag with your cinnamon bun tightly in your grip, “That sounds great! See you at 7 Steve”.

You turned to walk away, mostly to hide your over-the-top grin, realising it was probably too much but after a few steps, you heard Steve shout to you, “I’ll be counting down the seconds!”

You faced back towards him to see him grinning and walking backwards, before stopping next to a large black SUV that you hadn’t noticed was parked there with Bucky in the driving seat. Steve climbed into the car and you couldn’t hear what was said but by the shit-eating grin on Bucky’s face, whatever he had said was a tease as he was harshly shoved against the driver’s door.

Holy shit. You were actually going for a dinner date with Steve. But then… wasn’t this supposed to be your plan all along, to get him in a romantic setting and sweet talk your way into getting your brother a meeting? However, every second you were with Steve, the gang, your job, and your brother never once came to your mind, it was like your vision only zoned in on the Rogers leader and couldn’t see or think about anything else.

You were definitely becoming way too attracted and attached to him, that much was for sure but for once, you didn’t let these emotions scare you off, even though you knew everything would crash and burn one day, you were enjoying the here and now too much to even care. If this ended up destroying you then so be it.

Enzo was ecstatic when you revealed that you had a date with Steve, and even offered to have someone drive you there before you needed to ask. Naturally, he still had something to complain about as he saw the beautifully flowing dress that you were wearing, not satisfied that you weren’t showing enough skin but thankfully he didn’t make you change.

Staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long, you had decided to go for this look rather than your usual skin-exposed to sell your assets dress because you actually wanted to make a nice first impression. Also, the restaurant that was booked looked fancy so didn’t need more attention drawn to you when you arrived looking like a woman of the night.

Reluctantly, you bought his jacket, it wasn’t your property but the comfort you found in it, you didn’t want to return it, even though the scent on it was starting the fade to the smell of your own natural body scent instead.

You couldn’t deny your nerves, hands clammy and stomach twisting and turning with anticipation of seeing him again but that was soon replaced with excitement and almost…content, at seeing Steve outside of the restaurant, waiting for you.

“Do you need picking up?” your driver asked and you instantly said no, knowing that if he picked you up, this meant you had a limit as to how late you could be with Steve. Exiting the car, and shutting the door behind you, Steve’s eyes lit up and sparkled as he approached you, but he failed to hide the disapproved look he gave the car as it began to drive away.

“They don’t open the door for you either?” he asked, referring to your gang member driver. You shook your head, thinking ‘Were they supposed to?’ but didn’t vocalise this as you took in Steve’s appearance. He looked good, so fucking good in fact that your core clenched with arousal at seeing his obviously expensive white suit that had buttons lacing the front, a striped brown tie to match his leather shoes. “You look breathtaking”, Steve’s compliment snapped you out of your appreciative stare.

Looking up at his handsome face, you realised he was doing his own oggle at what you were wearing, your skin burned with excitement, feeling giddy as Steve finally offered his elbow for you to take. The way he looked at you, it was like he was in awe of you, rather than the usual hungry look that would make you cower from the other people you had to go on dates with.

Holding his jacket in one hand and placing your hand in the crook of his arm and letting him lead the way in. You’d never been treated this well, having doors held open for you, allowing you to lead the way through the tables to your seat which was then pushed in by Steve, it felt like you were in a movie even though in reality, these gentlemanly acts were the bare minimum in perspective.

The restaurant was stunning, it wasn’t overly full of other customers, and everything had an air of money, expensive decorations, and friendly staff, it was perfect. Your table was near the back of the restaurant, in the most quiet area giving some sort of privacy from prying eyes that all seemed to notice Steve as he walked through.

You were beaming and had to take a large drink of water to try and hide your expression, forcing yourself to calm down before Steve ran away from your overexaggerate happiness. However, as you looked over at him, watching as he undid the few buttons of his jacket, his own expression may have been calm, trying to uphold his tough exterior but, as he rested his hands on the table, you noticed that he was wringing his hands together slightly, the only sign that he was nervous which only made you smile more.

“You are looking very handsome, did you get Bucky to comb your hair?”, you joked, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders by not filtering what you wanted to say.

Steve looked to the side and chuckled, shaking his head, “Just because he’s my second-in-command, doesn’t mean that we spend every second together”.

“Are you sure about that? You guys work together, you’re best friends, he drives you everywhere you go, and I’m sure he’s waiting outside for you right now”. Steve’s eyes locked onto yours as he genuinely smiled, the gleam reaching his eyes.

“Firstly, he’s only waiting outside because he’s doing his job as my bodyguard and secondly… you may have a point but no he didn’t comb my hair”. You bite your lip, holding back the giggle with the thought of two gangsters combing each other's hair in their spare time.

The waiter then approached and took both of your orders, returning with some fancy wine you’d never even heard of before but the alcohol helped to ease the initial nerves.

You and Steve stayed until closing and the night quickly replaced the rooftop as your favourite night of your life. Both of you didn’t even seem to blink as you held eye contact like you were scared that if you looked away, the other would disappear.

You had also never spoken so much about your life, ever before. Steve continuously asked questions and was genuinely interested, even if there weren’t many exciting things to tell him. He would continuously compliment you and at one point, after the empty plates were taken away, your hands accidentally touched on top of the table as you both simultaneously reached for your drinks but then they just stayed there, holding hands. His palms and fingertips were rough from training and there were small scars littering his knuckles but the sheer size of them dwarfed your own.

It was an odd sensation to feel so at ease with someone, especially someone so dangerous. Sure, the rumours were there for a reason, he had to be the top gangster by doing dangerous and violent acts but the way he was looking at you like you were the only one to make him smile before.

Not only this but you were surprised by just how willing he was to open up about his life when you were wanting to find out everything you could. Steve talked about his childhood, how he was quite an unwell kid, meeting Bucky and they both joined the army in their early adulthood, much to Bucky’s dismay with how ill Steve was. Then the most surprising information was when Steve’s voice quieted, glanced around so no one would overhear.

Steve and Bucky had been a part of experiments that seemed to change their DNA which caused them to be the bulky forms that they were now, with enhanced stamina, strength, and vision, everything seemed to be to an exaggerated level. It was almost unbelievable to listen to, but then he showed you a picture of him as a 20-year old and he was tiny, scrawny and ill-looking, nothing like the towering, healthy, muscular man that was sitting across the table from you now.

Steve was open and honest about everything, even though he didn’t know why he was so willing to tell the sister of his potential enemy about facts regarding his gang, but once he started he couldn’t stop. Like he wanted to share more of himself to be closer to you in some way and break down the Mafia leader wall that he automatically had around himself at all times.

“I think the servers are waiting for us to leave”, Steve whispered as he peaked over your shoulder. Turning in your chair, you saw that all the other tables were empty and the waiters were sitting together having completed all the other work. How long had it even been? You could talk to Steve all night if you could.

Steve paid with a significant tip for everyone and placed a steady hand on your lower back as you both walked towards the exit. He had offered to have Bucky take you home but you decided that maybe a taxi would be better, still needing to keep some anonymity at your brother's home.

“You don’t have to wait with me”, you stared up at Steve as he stood close enough that you could feel his warmth, much like on the rooftop, maybe his heat was a side effect of the experiments he’d gone through. Steve didn’t answer your question, instead giving a deadpan look before looking at what you still held in your arms - his jacket.

The pit in your stomach returned as you reluctantly began to hand over his jacket but Steve held up a finger to wait as he began to pull off his white blazer. He noticed how much you found comfort in the navy jacket so gave you his white one, took the navy one from your grip and shrugged it on. “Gives me an excuse to see you again”, Steve commented as you held his white blazer close, he had to refrain from groaning as the navy jacket smelt like you, his cock twitching in his pants with how much he wanted to wake up to that smell every morning.

“Is it weird to say I wish this night wouldn’t end?” your voice was timid as you asked him, becoming slightly nervous as you stared at your shoes. Steve’s brown leather shoes moved closer to yours, the tips just brushing together with how close he now stood. One of his fingers slid underneath your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him.

You gazed at him, seeing his cheeks were slightly flushed again, lips parted and shining from where he had recently run his tongue along them, his captivating eyes half-lidded and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you and what scared you a little was that you desperately wanted him to.

Steve wanted to kiss you, he had since before he knew who you truly were but for now, he instead tilted your head to the side and gently kissed your cheek, his finger slipping ever so slightly over your jaw as you seemed to forget how to breathe.

“Thank you for today, for showing me that there’s more to this world than just work, that there is some hope”, Steve admitted, his breath tickling your ear.

Now you definitely didn’t want the night to end and wished that you could reciprocate his words of affection but you panicked as the taxi pulled up next to you both. “Can I have your number?”

“I thought I was going to have to beg”, he was joking but the thought seemed to unlock something in your lonely, virgin brain and instantly had to rub your thighs together as tension built. Luckily Steve didn’t notice as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket, handing it to you to type your number into and then text it, your phone vibrating a second later with a text reading: ‘Tell me you’re mine”.

Your eyes were ablaze as you snapped your attention up to him but he was leaning over to open your taxi door, offering a hand to help you into the back seat. He even helped you to do your seatbelt, making sure you were safe before leaning into the car, “when can I see you again?” you asked, hopefully.

“I’ll cancel any plans if it means I get to see you, text me when you miss me and I’ll come running”, Steve inched forward and kissed your temple slowly, breathing in your smell one last time before standing back and shutting the door. The taxi began driving as you numbly said your address, eyes not leaving Steve’s as the car began to roll away until you could no longer see the blonde man anymore.

You felt overwhelmingly sad, an exaggerated feeling for someone who had only been on one date with the man but his attentiveness, made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Never in your life had you experienced someone caring for you or showing any sort of affection that didn’t leave you feeling used.

Your life was lonely and Steve was reminding you that this wasn’t how it was supposed to be so without losing your courage that suddenly flooded your heart, you pulled up Steve’s last text, reading the word ‘mine’ over and over again and decided to send him one make.

‘I’m yours’.

Arriving into the driveway of Enzo’s home, did it then click that you hadn’t in fact asked for the meeting. The one thing you actually had gone to do, you hadn’t done, Enzo not even crossing your mind throughout the entire night. You’d hoped that maybe he was asleep and then you could text Steve maybe, even though you weren’t sure what you’d say.

Your luck seemed to run out however as Enzo was waiting with anticipation for your return, not even giving you a second to take your shoes off before gripping your arm and dragging you to his office.

You couldn’t lie, not when there was so much expected from this meeting and if you said that Steve said yes and when you eventually were able to meet with him and he said no, Enzo’s reaction would be devastating.

When your brother lost his temper, he usually liked to take his anger out on objects around you, his office walls having to be replastered multiple times from where his fist had left holes. But recently, like the day before, he began to let his anger out on you by resting his knife against your throat with the threat to press harder.

However today, he didn’t remove his knife from its sheath and instead slammed your body into the wall with his hand around your neck, cutting off your airways. A loud buzzing filled your ears as you struggled to escape, you couldn’t even hear his words of anger, not until he threw you to the floor where you desperately gasped for air which was difficult as you tried not to hyperventilate.

“So what are you going to do, huh? TELL ME!” Enzo screamed and you cringed away from where he stood over you.

“I’ll- I’ll text him to meet tomorrow and I can ask him then, it’ll be better to ask in person”, your voice shook as the tears began flowing down your cheeks.

“Well go on then!”

Reaching into your pocket, your fingers trembled violently as you tried to type to Steve, heart pounding with anxiety. ‘Could we meet tomorrow? I’m not sure if I’m sounding too eager but I’d love to replay the favour and buy you lunch if you’re free?’

As you were waiting for a response, you massaged the skin of your neck as Enzo poured himself a heft glass of whiskey, drinking it all in a few gulps before pouring another one. As he was halfway through his second glass, Steve responded.

‘I meant what I said, I’m always free if it means I get to see you. I was just about to ask you for brunch tomorrow so great minds think alike and you aren’t repaying any favours, I want to treat you. Let me know where to pick you up, baby girl’.

You would have sheepishly grinned at his text but the realisation of actually having to portray his trust set in and you instead felt numb. After informing Enzo, he stormed off to god-knows-where, leaving you to crawl back to your bedroom and cry enough that your eyes were sore and swollen.

You didn’t want Steve to feel like you were just using him to get a meeting for your brother, but it was inevitable that as soon as you asked, the whirlwind of excitement and hope would soon extinguish.

You’d arranged to have Steve pick you up outside of Cakes Bakes at 11:30 the next day. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, you had only slept for an hour and that was only because you had cried for so long that you’d passed out. Your body and emotions felt drained, scared of Enzo, and worried about seeing Steve, it was a complete difference to how you were feeling 24 hours ago.

As you were only going for a late lunch, you decided to wear a simple dress that ended mid-thigh, the fabric was soft giving you space to breathe and not feel restricted. You also made sure to style your make-up so that it wasn’t obvious that your under eyes were swollen, even if the whites of your eyes were slightly red, you could always put that off to the cool weather making your eyes water.

You stared at his white jacket for far too long, thinking whether or not to bring it, but a selfish part of your mind decided to leave it on your bed, if Steve never wanted to see you again after today, then at least you could have this as a memory.

Taking a deep breath as you saw Steve’s SUV pull up to the curb, you allowed yourself to feel somewhat excited as he grinned at you, climbing out of the car to sweetly kiss your cheek. “God, you look amazing”.

“Thank you, so do you, are you always this dressed up?” You asked, surprised that your voice sounded so confident with how awful you felt inside but you did want to know the answer to your question. Steve was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone and black pants that shaped perfectly over his sculptured ass… ok wait you needed to not be so quick to stare as he held the car door open for you.

“I need to keep up appearances, don’t I?” he cockily responded with a smirk that made you flush with excitement. As Steve closed your door and began walking around the car to get back into the driver's side, another voice from behind you made you scream.

“Hey, I’m Bucky, it’s nice to finally meet you!” Turning in your chair, fast enough to make you dizzy you were greeted with a gloved hand, extended for you to shake and the owner of that hand grinning hard enough to show the dimples in his cheeks.

With one hand, you grabbed your chest feeling your pounding heart beneath, not having expected anyone else to be in the car, and with the other hand, accept Bucky’s handshake, the hand within the glove feeling solid but Steve had already explained that he had a metal arm due to an incident in the army. “Hi, I’m Y/N”.

“Sorry”, Steve apologised as he shut his door, “I should have warned you he was here. I told him I was going to grab some food and he insisted that needed to come with me”, Steve growled the last part in annoyance.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “I’m just doing my job Boss”, but you could tell by the hint of mischief in his eyes that he came to snoop. “Anyway, I’m like a shadow, you won’t even know I’m here”, he readjusted in his seat, getting comfortable as he looked between you and Steve.

“It’s fine, I know you both come as a pair, you were all Steve could talk about yesterday”, you teased Steve.

“Oh really? And it’s Steve is it? Already on a first-name basis I see”, Bucky eyed you with contemplation and his comment sparked your interest. He’d introduced himself as Steve, was it unusual for him to do so? You looked towards the blonde for answers but he looked ready to punch Bucky in the face for saying too much but he quickly changed the subject.

“So what do you want to eat?” Steve asked, turning on the car.

You all decided on Subway and rather than eating in the car, the boys suggested going back to the office to eat in the comfort of Steve’s office. You agreed, happy to go wherever they wanted but with the realisation that they felt comfortable enough to show the location of Steve’s office and welcomed as a friend rather than a sister of an enemy gang, you suddenly felt nauseous.

There were lots of people everywhere who all smiled and waved at Steve and Bucky, but also remained respectful towards their boss, it was a much nicer dynamic to have than the one you grew up around. The three of you rode up the escalator to Steve’s office, it seemed Bucky was going to be eating with you too but you didn’t mind, he was easy to be around and just as gentlemanly as Steve, holding doors open and carrying your food for you.

Steve sat behind his giant oakwood desk, as you and Bucky sat in two guest chairs facing him, food wrappers in laps as you all ate and casually chatted. But even with how at ease Steve and Bucky made you feel as you forced the food into your mouth, you couldn’t help but feel sick, and empty.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked as he noticed your eyes hadn’t wandered away from the spot on the floor and since the run-in at Cakes Bakes two days ago, you never seemed to look away from his face, he missed your eyes.

Looking up, swallowing far too quickly, you plastered a fake smile on your face, hoping it reached your eyes, “Yeah I’m fine! Sorry my mind is a little all over the place”.

Steve frowned slightly, placing his half-eaten sandwich on the desk, “I haven’t made you uncomfortable coming here, have I?”

“No, you haven't, I promise, in fact, this is making me feel a little better, even with your shadow over here blatantly gate-crashing our date”, you joked, pointing your thumb at Bucky who grinned with a mouthful of food that made you giggle again.

Steve didn’t seem convinced by your excuse though, as he questioned, “So there is something wrong for you to feel better now we are here?”

You couldn’t hold his intense stare anymore and glanced at your lap, willing your mind to work and think of an excuse, ANY excuse, “I’m just tired, I’m fine, it’s nothing”.

Steve watched you try and suppress your emotions and contemplated a few facts. Over the few days that he had been getting to know you and allowing his own obsession to play out with wanting to be with you like you were his own personal drug. There was one topic, one person that had yet to be discussed so reluctantly he asked, “Is this about your brother?”

Steve assumed that maybe Enzo had found out about Steve taking his sister on a few dates and was being an overprotective sibling and maybe the two of you had a disagreement but as he saw tears pooling in your eyes and your bottom lip beginning to wobble, he didn’t care what had caused it, there was absolutely no way he was going to let someone upset you.

You were overwhelmingly stressed, realising it was now or never and nodded your head to answer Steve’s question. Both men seemed to gravitate towards you as your emotions began to spiral, Steve kneeling directly in front of you and Bucky to your left, removing your sandwich from your lap to give Steve room to reach for your hands.

“You’re going to hate me”, you admitted to him, sighing sadly as he stroked his thumb against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, you aren’t capable of doing anything severe enough to make me hate you”, Steve tried to comfort.

“You’ve only known me for a few days”, you pointed out quietly.

Steve tilted your face up to his so you could see the sincerity in his eyes, “Yes, but I’d like to think I’m able to read people well and sweetheart, you don’t have a malicious bone in your body”.

“You won’t be saying that after this, you don’t know what I’ve done”.

Taking a deep breath that did next to nothing to settle your nerves, your hands remained in Steve’s as you began to explain what was happening. How for years you had been used as a bargaining chip for Enzo, flirting with customers of his to get what he wanted and after meeting on the rooftop, Enzo had demanded that you do the same with Steve to try and get a meeting for him.

“But then every time we’ve been together, I forgot about Enzo, about his mission for me and every time I go home, he’s there, expecting me to have arranged things for him but then I haven’t and he’s mad. But then, every time we are together and the closer we get, I realise how much I don’t want to lose whatever it is that’s between us but that only makes it worse when I inevitably have to ask if you could please meet with Enzo?”

Steve’s eyes harden the longer you talked, and for a moment you expected the anger to be directed at you but his thumb continued to draw idle circles on the back of your hand as he questioned, “Does Enzo have anger issues?”

“Doesn’t everyone in this job?” you answered honestly, finding his thumb movements relaxing as you looked down at where they lay in your lap.

“Not for people you love”, Steve’s voice was calm as he spoke, sounding sincere but you could hear the rage behind his words and by the way his jaw clenched.

“Did he hurt you?” Bucky asked with icy rage. The tension in the room seemed to shift as both men waited with bated breath for your answer and for a minute you contemplated telling them the truth but if something happened to Enzo, what would happen to you? Where would you go?

So you shook your head, no. Hoping that they believed you as more tears flowed. “I didn’t want you to think I was like everyone else, that I was just using you to benefit the gang”.

Steve’s eyebrows unfurrowed as he shifted closer on his knees, “Don’t cry baby,”, he quickly wiped away your tears again, “your reaction is proof enough that you held no malicious intent behind our meetings, and that you are nothing like your brother. You’ve had plenty of opportunity to ask for this bullshit meeting and only when pushed into a corner have you asked”.

You took a few steading breaths, full of unbelieveable relief that caused the tension to ease in your chest. “I hate seeing you sad and knowing that someone’s made you feel this way. You should feel safe, I mean, are you even safe living at home with him?” There was hesitation in Steve’s voice like the answer would change everything.

“I think I’m safe, he needs me too much”, your answer wasn’t necessarily a lie as such, but the increasing violence didn’t need to be discussed.

“If you’re ever not safe, you know you can always come to me, don’t you? No one would be able to get within 2 feet of you with me around, I promise you”.

You stared deep into his eyes, seeing them full of honesty and genuine care, and it wasn’t something you wanted to run towards, that safety net that he was offering to you.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift as you couldn’t blink or even force air into your lungs as Steve’s eyes captivated you. At some point, Bucky took this moment to step away, understanding that you both needed some time alone and as the office door clicked closed, the restraint both you and Steve had been holding onto shattered.

The two of you met in the middle, your body flying out of the chair, arms going around his neck as he cradled your hips, pulling you to the floor, knees pressed against him and his mouth lowered to yours. The kiss was bruising and full of desperation on both parts, wanting to be as close as possible, head tilting one way to the other, lips moving frantically needing to taste each other.

As your tongue teased his bottom lip, Steve seemed to lose some restraint as his whole body shivered, a deep groan coming from the back of his throat as his large arms wrapped around your body and he easily swapped your positions so that he now sat in the chair and you were straddling his lap. Your dress rose higher up your thighs as they burned from the stretch over his muscular thighs, your hips wanting to grind down against him however, this was unknown territory for you, but you could definitely feel the hardening lump that brushed against your thighs with his peaking arousal. Even though this wasn’t your first kiss, that was as far as your experience went.

Steve’s hands stroked up your back as he sighed with content, his tongue daring to dip into your mouth and both of your groaned as yours touched his. Your fingers were doing their own exploring, from the hard muscles of his shoulders, up to the surprisingly soft whisps of hair behind his ears, a strong contrast to the rough facial hair that was rubbing against your cheeks.

You wanted more, needed more of him and for a moment, you were ready to give it to him, but as Steve’s mouth began to kiss along your jaw, you had the sudden urge to tell him, “I’m a virgin”.

Steve pulled back immediately, hands moving to rest on your hips as his glazed-over eyes searched your face, “sorry, we don’t have to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable-”

You swiftly cut off his chivalrous speech by attaching your mouth back to his in a longing kiss, taking your time to pull back and rest your forehead against his. “That’s not what I meant, I want to do this with you more than you could ever know but I also don’t want the first time to be in a small leather chair”.

Steve grinned, pecking your lips one more time before nuzzling into your neck, “I don’t want that for you either, sweetheart. I just want you to be happy”. Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest as you held him tighter.

“I’m happy when I’m with you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, like I’m actually safe when you’re around.”

“That’s because you are safe, I’ll always keep you safe”. Steve pulled back so that he could look into your eyes, stroking a hand across your cheek, “I don’t want you going back to where he is, without me there, what if something happens”.

“Nothing will happen, and I’ll always come back to you”.

“Will you call me if anything does happen? Or if I give you a call, if you don’t answer by the second ring, I’ll know something is wrong and I’ll come to find you.”

Nodding your head you agreed to his terms, you were always by your phone so was pretty simple to answer unless something was wrong. “What do you want me to tell him about this meeting?”

“Tell him I can do it today, I need to see that coward's face.” Your nerves began to surface again and so Steve tenderly kissed your cheek, as your lips were slightly swollen from the make-out session. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to your brother if you don’t want me to, you’re my priority through all of this”.

Your stomach bubbled with an unknown feeling as you admitted, “I’ve never been someone's priority before”.

Steve’s eyes saddened, “I hate that it’s taken you this long to feel justified and that you matter”. Your fingers stroked across his cheek, following the direction of his hair in soft motions and you could tell he was nervous for his next statement. “During the meeting, you’re going to see a side of me that you might not recognise but, I need to be the boss if it's the boss he wants to see so bad that he’s willing to use you to get to me”.

“I know”, you say, leaning your head on his shoulders, and relaxing into his embrace and you realised that this was probably the first intimate hug you’d ever received and it felt so good and right.

“I just need you to remember this version of me, the one that wants to protect you and keep you safe”.

“I’m not scared of any version of you Steve. The boss or the one that I’m seeing now.”

He kissed your temple, “I really want to fucking kill your brother for making you cry”, he admitted, his words full of aggression, not matching the soft touches that he was providing.

“To be honest, I hardly even see him as my brother, I haven’t for a while so let’s call him Enzo and pretend that he’s not”.

Steve nodded his head and continued to hold you for a little while longer but then eventually shifted, “Go and call Enzo, I think it’s time I meet him properly”.

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