#this is a month overdue oh god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shotoh · 1 year

Text

all mine

SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 9.6k+

genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst

tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language

author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all

The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.

“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.

“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.

The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”

Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.

A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.

She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.

One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.

If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.

Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.

Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”

Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.

“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”

“But–”

“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.

“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”

Man, what an annoying woman.

Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.

His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.

“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.

But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.

Besides...

“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”

His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”

He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.

You.

“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.

After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.

While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.

The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.

Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.

Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.

You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.

The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.

Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.

“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.

Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.

Fuckin’ hell.

The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.

In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.

Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”

The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.

His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.

Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.

“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.

The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”

He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.

You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.

Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.

“You’re killing me here, dammit.”

You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”

He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.

Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.

He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.

“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”

The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.

Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.

Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.

The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.

He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.

“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.

Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”

“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.

Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”

“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.

“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”

He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”

“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”

“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.

“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”

“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”

Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.

Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?

To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.

Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?

This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.

“You free tomorrow?”

“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”

“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”

Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”

“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.

Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”

“Hold it, I still have a piece–”

“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”

“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.

With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.

“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.

“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”

Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,

“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”

There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.

The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.

Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.

Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.

Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.

While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.

“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.

“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”

“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”

You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.

“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.

“H… Hold the door!” she pants.

Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.

You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.

She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.

“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”

It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.

You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.

You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.

“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.

With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.

I thought I covered that…

You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.

You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.

You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.

Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”

She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”

You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?

You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.

The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.

“Heya, Katsu–”

“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.

You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.

He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”

“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.

“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.

“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.

“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”

Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”

Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.

“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.

After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”

“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.

“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.

Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”

“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”

“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.

“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.

As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”

You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.

The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.

You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.

“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.

You bite your lower lip. “Well…”

Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”

It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.

In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.

You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.

“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.

“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.

“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”

“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.

A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.

Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.

“You did well, princess.”

His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.

God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.

Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.

While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.

The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.

“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.

“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”

Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”

“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”

A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.

“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”

Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.

“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.

In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.

Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”

“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.

“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.

He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”

Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.

“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”

At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.

“Bend over.”

Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.

With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.

“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.

Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.

“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”

“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”

At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.

“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”

Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.

“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.

“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.

“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.

“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.

Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.

“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.

The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”

Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.

“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.

“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”

Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.

“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.

“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.

Oh, fuck it.

As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.

You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.

“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.

“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.

By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.

With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.

Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.

“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point

“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”

“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.

Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.

“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”

“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.

Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.

After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.

“Feel sticky…”

“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.

Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”

“Fine. Such a princess…”

“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.

The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”

Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.

“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”

You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”

“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”

“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.

“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.

And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.

“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.

“What’s so funny?!”

“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”

At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.

“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.

The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.

“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.

“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.

And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.

When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.

“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.

“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.

You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”

“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.

“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”

The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.

#bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha fic #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #bakugou fic #mha smut #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki smut

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littlejuicebox · 5 months

Text

Astarion talks in his sleep.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav (Shadowheart is our lovely supporting role though.) Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3, "good/spawn" Astarion ending, all fluff Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 900+ Notes: Inspired by this post here!

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Astarion talks in his sleep. It’s something you’ve never mentioned to him, because it’s mostly when he’s having a nightmare about Cazador or some other horrid trauma from his past. You'd quickly determined it not worth bringing up, for fear of embarrassing him. Plus, if you were being honest, part of you found it rather endearing... especially the lighter drabble that would escape his lips. Delighted giggles, little purrs... it could be overwhelmingly adorable, on occasion.

In fact, the first time you ever heard him say he loved you was in his sleep. Then you'd waited weeks… anxiously, impatiently, unbearably for the revelation to come out while he was awake, under his own terms.

But tonight, the talking and tossing isn't cute. The vampire writhing in bed disturbs you, and your eyes flutter open, catching the smallest glimpse of daylight between the thick, tightly drawn curtains and shuttered windows of your bedchamber. You'd just fallen asleep, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit annoyed.

You idly try to figure out the date. Adjusting your schedule to the night life was… difficult; you often lost track of dates nowadays. But somehow you manage to remember that it's been nearly six months since you all saved Baldur's Gate; six months since Astarion had been returned to a creature of the shadows. Six months you've been in the house provided by the city as you two adjust to whatever normalcy you are able to conjure up and figure out your next steps. You were a strong proponent for the Underdark; Astarion was not quite sold.

At first you think the silver-haired elf's tossing and turning is a night terror… it’s been nearly two weeks since the last one. He’s overdue. You ready yourself to pop out of bed and grab your calming herbs to steep a quick sleeping draught. But then you hear him, soft and garbled, laced with thick strings of sleep.

“Will you marry me?”

You turn to stare stupidly at the elf, eyes piercing through the blackness of your room; his face is obscured, you cannot tell if he’s awake. “…what did you say?”

Silence. A long, unbearable stretch of silence where your heart is pounding into your throat, practically rattling around your chest cavity at the sudden shock. And then he’s snoring again, and you’re left with your brow furrowed and robe half pulled onto your shoulder. Well, so much for your sleep.

You meander down the hall to the kitchen, where Shadowheart has several jars and plants strewn across the table. She’s practically taken over the kitchen since Gale left, not that you particularly mind, since she’s also taken over the cooking.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep right now?” She asks, spotting you out of the corner of her eye, not lifting her focus from the mortar and pestle in her hand.

“You won’t believe what Astarion just said in his sleep.” You murmur in dazed response, walking over to the cabinets and rummaging through the contents. You grab an old kettle and fill it with water, turning to look at the cleric.

“Gods, what was it? I’m quite thankful to be out of the camp... his night terrors woke all of us up at one point or another. It's no wonder you’re struggling with the schedule adjustment.”

“He said, ‘Will you marry me?’” You respond, almost giggling at how silly that sounds in retrospect, as you place the kettle on the stove.

Shadowheart pauses. One, two, three beats of silence. “Shit… well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now.” She murmurs with a shrug, before returning to grinding her herbs.

“Wh-what?!”

“Oh, come off, don’t be daft! You had to expect it would be coming sooner or later. Gods, your love is almost sickening… it was sickening, having to hear it all the time... once again, so thankful for the separation of these walls.”

You are frozen, your hand still holding onto the kettle as you appraise your friend. Shadowheart is right. You knew a proposal would come sooner or later… you just figured it would be much later. Astarion was still struggling; more often than not you woke to him in tears or in the throes of a sleeping fit. Countless calming elixirs and teas had been drawn up by you and Shadowheart in the last six months. Truly, you hadn’t thought he was thinking that deeply about it... you hadn't been, if at all. Gods, you two still didn't even know where you were headed after leaving this city-supplied house... the lease was up in a few weeks' time.

“I guess… well, I suppose I didn’t think he was ready.” You sigh, lighting the stove and sitting across the table, watching the cleric as she works.

“Oh, trust me, he’s ready. And he's certain. Perhaps not about anything else... but definitely about this. He's been writing to Gale for weeks trying to source a particular ring." Shadowheart responds, now pouring the contents of her grinder into pouches. "Just promise you'll act like it's a surprise when the time comes... he's been talking about it for a while. He's put a lot of thought into things."

"When will it be?"

Shadowheart laughs, the edges of her eyes crinkling as she flicks her gaze toward the ceiling. She’s now cinching the sachets and sorting them all into a nearby basket. "Now that I'm not telling you. I've already given away too much."

You try for a few more minutes to pry the information from your friend, but she remains tight-lipped. You even threaten her with detect thoughts, though you both know you'd never go through with it. Finally, a whistle from the kettle beckons you back to the stovetop, and the conversation is halted as you ready your tea and aim to go back to bed. You might not know when your love is going to pop the question, but you do know that when the time comes, your answer will be a resounding yes.

Click here for Part 2

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fluff #astarion fluff #astarion x gender neutral reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #bg3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 imagines #astarion imagines #i feel like shadowheart would be my best friend IRL

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thestoryofusstan · 1 month

Text

I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader

request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.

warnings: cursing, not edited

you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.

rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.

tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.

with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.

“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.

“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.

“late?” nancy asked.

“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”

—

by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.

you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.

“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.

“long line at the coffee shop.”

“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”

you nearly choked on your drink.

“you finished those edits, right?”

“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.

“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”

“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“

“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”

“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.

“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“

you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.

and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.

“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”

your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”

he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.

“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.

“yes, sir.”

he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.

you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”

“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”

“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”

—

right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.

“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.

“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.

“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”

you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.

“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.

“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.

“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”

“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”

even you could tell he did not mean that.

“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.

“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”

you all chorused variations of yes.

“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”

you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.

“i expect an answer.”

“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.

“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“

“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”

josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”

mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”

“yes, mr—“

“so why aren’t you doing it?”

“i— i’ve been.. busy.”

“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”

“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”

“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”

“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“

“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”

josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.

you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.

“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“

“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”

“you better watch what you say to me—“

a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”

you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”

you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.

you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.

"miss townes, correct?" he asked.

"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."

he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."

you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"

"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."

"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"

"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."

his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"

"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"

you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.

"yes, mr. styles."

it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.

"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"

you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.

"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."

josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"

"i'm not asking."

mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.

"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."

you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.

"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.

"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"

"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."

"really? i mean.. are you sure?"

"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."

"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.

right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.

"oh, and y/n?"

you turned around with a furrow in your brows.

"let me know if you have any other problems."

you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.

a/n: part 1!! i really love this request

#harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry #harry styles #boss!harry styles x reader #boss!harry styles #ceorry #ceo!harry styles #ceo!harry styles x reader

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phoward89 · 2 months

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This is based on this ask.

Coryo is a hands on dad in this. (Thank God, since he was a real piece of shit in the last daddy!Coriolanus one shot)

Everyone says that pregnancy is a beautiful experience. Women are supposed to look radiant and glowing as they're round with the new life they're growing inside of them.

What nobody tells you is that your feet and ankles swell, your back aches, you pee more than a race horse, you balloon into the size of a beluga whale, and your mood swings are all over the place because of the pregnancy hormones. Oh, and you crave the weirdest things.

Nope, people don't tell you that. You had to learn that the hard way. At least you had your husband by your side during everything.

Coriolanus is a very busy man, being the youngest President of Panem, but he always made time in his busy schedule for you. To check in on you and make sure you were okay. After all, it's his fault you're in the condition you're in.

Okay…

Well…

You both agreed to try for a baby during the honeymoon, so it technically wasn't his fault you're big and miserable right now.

Honestly, Coriolanus had baby fever and replaced your birth control pills with sugar pills a month or so before the wedding, so you were bound to get pregnant right away.

Anyways, you're currently so big that you can't do anything by yourself. Hell, you can barely even walk anymore. You're practically waddling like a duck.

And you're so emotional. You've been crying at the drop of a hat lately. Anything, literally anything, can put you into a crying drag. It was emotionally exhausting.

Your husband, the president, was surprisingly supportive of you. He doted on you. Even when you were complaining about being uncomfortable or crying your eyes out for the umpteenth time, Coryo was right by your side trying to comfort you.

Despite his cold, calculated, stoic nature that everyone saw, he was soft and loving towards you. But only you.

Because he loves you more than anything in this world.

Despite vowing to never let himself fall in love again, when you became his personal secretary when he was Senator Snow he fell for you.

It was hard not to. Your beauty paired with your personality was hard for him to resist.

So, he broke a promise to himself that he made at 18 or 19 years old. But, when it comes to love it just happens. Vowing to never fall in love's a foolish notion because one can't control who they fall in love with.

It just happens.

But, unfortunately, when he fell in love with you it wasn't when you were available. You had a long time boyfriend. And since Coriolanus wanted you to be his, he got rid of your boyfriend.

Permanently.

With poison.

And then a few months after your boyfriend was out of the picture, Coriolanus wooed you. He asked you out with pretty words and a single white rose. Of course you accepted.

Then, when he was campaigning to become Panem's youngest president, he proposed. And after he won the election, becoming President Snow, he married you; made you his First Lady Snow.

And now you're about to become a mother, another thing he had a hand in the making of.

The only problem was that your due date’s come and gone.

And you feel absolutely miserable.

“Darling, I just got off the phone with Dr. Wellock about your situation of being overdue.” Your husband, Coryo, announced as he walked into the sunroom room you were lounging in.

“What did he say?” You asked as the platinum blonde made his way over to your side.

“He says that an induction isn't done until the expecting mother is anywhere between 10-12 days overdue.” He said, taking a seat next to you on the sofa.

“So that means I have at least 5 more days of feeling miserable?” You asked, feeling tears begin to well up.

“Unfortunately, yes, my darling rose.” Coryo told you while wrapping an arm around you. Pulling you into his chest, he said, “The doctor gave me a list of things that can help to induce you naturally.” Rubbing your lower back, knowing that it was bothering you lately, you husband told you, “I'm having the kitchen staff cook the foods that'll help naturally induce you, Y/N.”

Coryo was a godsend. He was looking after you when he should be busy running the country. He didn't have an easy job.

He was the President of Panem.

And here he was catering to you. Offering you comfort and gentle reassurances during your difficult time of being overdue and feeling uncomfortable.

Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed. Felt like a burdened. And, before you could even control yourself, you started to cry into your husband's chest.

“What's wrong, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, threading his long fingers thru your hair, trying to soothe you.

“I feel bad that you're here with me instead of running the country. You’re the president, you should be working, not by my side giving me backrubs and helping me get from point A to point B all the time.”

“Y/N, darling, I might be the president, but I'm also your husband. As your husband, I put you and our unborn child before anything, including work. The wellbeing of my family will always come first, Panem second.”

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You asked between sobs.

Because he whacked your Academy Sweetheart.

But, Coriolanus couldn't tell you that. No, that's a secret he'll take with him to the grave. Along with all the other various murders he's committed and will keep on committing in order to be all powerful and filthy rich.

No, instead the president just presses a kiss to your head and tells you, “Dumb luck, I suppose.” Rubbing circles into your lower back, causing soft moans to fall from your lips, Coriolanus smiled, “But I consider myself the lucky one for being your husband. There's no other woman in all of Panem that I could ever see myself loving as deeply as I love you.”

Sniffing and wiping at your eyes, you say, “Don't tell me sweet stuff like that or I'll never stop crying.”

Unfortunately, labor inducing foods didn't work. So, Coryo told you that the doctor told him that sex, nipple stimulation, and orgasms could help induce labor. You laughed at him, saying that had to be a lie since, despite your huge size, you were still very sexually active with him. Coriolanus just shrugged, claiming that's what the doctor told him.

You don't know if it was from sex or just your time to go into labor, but in the middle of the night (after having late night sex with your husband) you woke up with labor pains and a soaked nightgown. When you woke up Coriolanus, telling him that it was (finally) time and that you were in labor, he quickly grabbed your baby bag and rushed you to the hospital.

The man, being a very devoted husband and father to be, drove you himself. You feared that Coryo would drag you to the hospital in his pajamas, but much to your relief he did toss on some clothes before taking you.

Once at the hospital, since you're the First Lady of Panem, you were put on VIP status and given a private room with a window view of the Rockies. You didn't really care since you were in the worst pain of your entire life, but it was a nice gesture. Coriolanus sure did enjoy the special treatment you were getting. Remarking how only the best for his love would do.

The president never left your side during your labor. He wiped your sweaty forehead with a cool cloth, buzzed the nurses for ice chips and pain meds for you, and he let you squeeze his hand to the point he thought his bones would break whenever you had a particularly painful contraction.

The hospital staff just melted at the sight of President Coriolanus Snow doting on his First Lady Y/N Snow. The nurses were swooning everytime they heard Coryo tell you, “You’re doing so well, darling.”, “I know it hurts, little dove, but soon we'll have our baby and it'll be well worth it.”, “Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, my darling rose. I served as a peacekeeper once, I can handle you breaking my hand while in labor pains.”

You were sitting up, pushing hard every 5 seconds, around 3 times per contraction. Coryo was right by your side, holding your hand and telling you, “You're doing wonderful, darling. Just a few more pushes and we'll be parents.”

The nurse in the room fought back the urge to swoon at the president’s words while the doctor just assured you that Coriolanus was right, that he could see the baby's head and after another push the baby would be born.

So, gathering all of the strength you could muster after pushing for what felt like hours, you did one last, hard push.

Your baby came out with a healthy set of lungs. Crying before even needing a spank to the butt.

Dr. Wellock held the baby up in the air, only to announce, “It's a girl!”

A girl. You and Coryo had a baby girl.

Tears of love welled up in your eyes as Coriolanus’ baby blues shines with pride as he whispered, “A baby girl.”, before pressing a soft kiss to your chapped lips.

“Mister President, Sir, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Wellock asked your husband as a nurse helped you deliver the placenta.

“Yes, I would like to.” Coriolanus replied before standing up and going over to the doctor. Silently, the doctor passed him the scissors and he cut the cord. After cutting the cord, your husband returned to your side while the doctor passed the baby over to the nurse to be cleaned and wrapped in a blanket.

“She's beautiful, darling.” Coriolanus told you as the doctor quickly cleaned you up.

“Does she have your platinum blonde hair?” You asked, a curious smile splitting your face wide open.

“Yes.” The president nodded. “She has both my light blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“You're going to be beating all the boys off with a stick in about, eh, 13 or so years.” You knowingly giggled right as the nurse appeared with your bundle of joy wrapped in a soft pink blanket and matching hat.

Handing you your daughter, the nurse asked, “What's her name?”

“Cersei.” You and Coryo answered at the same time, looking at your daughter with nothing but love.

Honestly, you were a bit nervous about how Coryo would be as a father since, after all, he had a lot on his plate as the president of the country. But it turns out that you didn't have anything to worry about. Coriolanus was a great father. He was very hands-on despite his strenuous and busy job being President of Panem.

The president always made time for his daughter and, of course, for you.

And when you went out in public, he was always by your side when wheeling your baby in the stroller. So many paparazzis would hide and flash pictures of President Snow with your daughter because it was the only way to get a picture of them together. Coryo never used Cersei for photo ops or publicity stunts. In fact he rarely talked about her at all interviews other then the general and polite answers of, “Oh, she's doing well.”, “Cersei's a happy girl.”, and “She’s hitting all of her milestones.”

Honestly, Coryo didn't like to talk too much about his daughter because he didn't want her in the limelight. He chose to become the president and you chose to become his first lady. You both knew the fame that came with it. But Cersei was born into it and your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, wanted her to have as normal of a childhood as possible.

And then, when your daughter was 3, you got pregnant again. Well, you and Coriolanus weren't trying, but weren't preventing either.

You were too far along yet, just nearing your 4th month. You knew that soon you'd be blowing into the size of a balloon tho.

But you weren't thinking about that right now.

Right now, you were just smiling at the sight of your daughter curled up on your husband's lap as he read her a book during one of his breaks from his office in the presidential wing of the mansion.

“Daddy?” Your daughter, whose platinum blonde hair was in little piggy tales, asked- causing your husband to pause in his reading.

It was cute how Coriolanus melted the first time he was called Dada and decided to let his daughter call him Daddy as she grew despite telling you over and over again during your pregnancy with her that he was going to be called father or nothing at all.

She's like Cersei has your husband wrapped around her finger.

“Yes, princess?” Coryo asked your daughter, looking at her with a genuine smile.

“Mama’s here.” She excitedly told your husband with a big smile on her face.

Coryo looked up, only to tell your daughter, “Oh, so she is.” Waving you into the room, your husband said, “Come in and sit down, darling. You don't need to stand in the doorway.”

“Oh, don't mind me, I was just walking down the hall and thought that I'd just check in on my favorite people while on my way to get a snack.” You told your husband, shrugging off his offer of you joining him and your daughter in the sun room.

“Mama, I want a snack!” Cersei exclaimed.

Coryo chuckled, only to close the book he was reading and place it onto the side table by his sitting chair. Standing up, with your daughter slung on his hip, the president announced, “Looks like a family snack time’s in order before I get back to work being the President Panem.”

When Cersei was almost 4, you had your son, Cassian Xandros. Then when she was 5 you had another son, Caspian Xenos and when she was 7 you had your last child. Another son, who was named Caelestis Xanthias.

Even tho Coriolanus had not 1 but 3 boys to carry on the mighty and magnificent Snow name, it was your daughter, Cersei, that was his favorite child.

Coriolanus was a good father to all 4 of your children, but it was your daughter that had him wrapped around his finger. She was daddy's little princess. She could do no wrong in his eyes.

But your boys…oh boy…Your son's had to be perfect unless they wanted to hear Coriolanus lecture them. He expected straight A’s and top marks in school from his 3 boys. Expected them to be involved in school politics, chess club, and the debate team. And when it came time for them to be mentors in the Hunger Games for a district that didn't have a Victor to act as a mentor, well you better believe that they had to be perfect at that too.

But not Cersei. Oh no… Coryo let Cersei get away with shit that he'd never let Cassian Xandros, Caspian Xenos, and Caelestis Xanthias get away with.

Cersei didn't want to be a mentor, so guess what? Her daddy, President Snow, let her stay home sick during the games so her mentor spot had to be given to somebody else. If she wanted to quit ballet lessons after just one lesson, saying it wasn't fun, then she could. She could get away with anything she wanted to, because your husband let her.

Coriolanus spoiled his daughter rotten.

And one day, as a young woman, when Cersei went running to her daddy saying that she was in trouble (knocked up) and that the Peacekeeper that got her in that condition didn't want the responsibility of a family, you know what Coriolanus did? He just told your daughter that he'd take care of everything.

And boy did he ever…

He had tea with that peacekeeper, where only one of them walked away from the garden tea table alive, and scattered the man's family all over the districts. Making sure that his younger siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins, etc were reaped when eligible.

Coriolanus also assured your daughter that you and him would help her raise her baby. That she'd have your support and wouldn't be alone.

So, when Cersei gave birth to her daughter, Celeste Snow, as a single mother you and Coryo were by her side. Assuring her that everything was fine, that she was going to be a great mother.

You had a sense of deja vu whenever the nurses all gossiped and giggled about how President Snow was such a good father and grandfather to be for staying by his daughter's side and supporting her despite her being an unwed mother.

Coriolanus was a great father to all of your children, but his favorite was your daughter Cersei. So, naturally, his favorite grandchild was her only daughter Celeste. He dotes on your granddaughter Celeste. She was the apple of his eye, even when the boys started getting married and having children of their own.

Coriolanus loved all his grandchildren, but Celeste was his favorite.

You on the other hand didn't have favorites. You loved all of your children and grandchildren equally.

But Coryo wasn't like you. No, your husband was the type to love obsessively, so he had to pick favorites.

So, it didn't surprise you when one day, before the games started, you walked into the sunroom to see your granddaughter and your husband having brunch. It reminded you of how he used to read to her mother all those years ago.

He might be older now with pure white hair, a distinguished white beard framing his face, and a bit more weight on his bones, but he was the same man in spirit he was all those years ago when he used to cut time out of his day just for your daughter. Now he just does it for his granddaughter.

“Grandpa, Grandma just walked in.” Celeste announced, peeling little shell pieces off of her soft boiled egg.

“I see that, darling.” Coryo told your granddaughter. Looking at you, he gestured to the empty seat next to him at the table and suggested, “Why don't you join me, my darling rose.”

“Well, I wasn't planning to, but if you insist.” You smiled, walking further into the room.

Your eyes saw the way Celeste had her hair done in a braid, that looked like the one that Victor from 12 Katniss Everdeen wore and you secretly hoped that your husband wouldn't yell at her for it. You knew how much he couldn't stand the Everdeen girl and feared that he'd be upset with Celeste for wearing her hair like the victor's.

As you sat down, you heard your husband say, “Your hair looks lovely darling, when did you start wearing it like that?”

“Everybody at school wears it like this now, grandpa.” Celeste said with a little devious smile on her face.

And the backlash never came. He just nodded his head and went on to eat his egg.

And that's when you knew that Celeste had the same power over him that Cersei did. That you had as well.

Coriolanus Snow might be a cold, evil, dictator of a president, but to his granddaughter, daughter, and wife he's just a man that loves them unconditionally to the point where it might be considered a weakness if anyone knew.

And perhaps that's why he never speaks much about his girls in interviews. He'll speak about his boys, but not his girls.

Because if anything ever happened to his girls, well…the president wouldn't know what to do with him.

That's how much he loves his darling girls.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503 @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88, @v-love

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0anonnymouslyours0 · 6 months

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a request!! i loved the scene where Spencer is giving a class and he finds out that ppl are auditing his class, and there’s a couple of girls who are kinda flirty with him

i would love a scene where his gf joins the class and sits in the back without Spencer noticing her at first, but then he does and idk maybe he can’t focus on the class because to him she’s sooo distracting. (preferably with smut at the end because i absolutely adore the way you write smut)

sure lovely! sorry this was like months overdue...

sex obvs +18

your slouched down in the very back, a questionably short skirt and half unbuttoned blouse on. spencers favourite. you haven't bothered to take out a notebook, or a laptop, to even pretend you might actually be here to learn. instead, your eyes watch spencer, only darting away when he looks up in your general direction. he looks good. very very good. dishevelled hair, which you know is partially from your morning activities, well structured navy suit. long fingers gripping the marker-

a cough bubbles in your throat, just as hes writing on the board and the class is silent. he turns in your direction, eyes widening when he spots you. smiling, you give him a teasing wave.

"right, err- so just copy this." hes frazzled now, gesturing at the board quickly and messing with his papers.

your phone buzzes.

"what are you doing?" you smile at the directness of it.

"just listening in."

he begins typing, but stops, looking up at you, eyes glancing up and down. clearing his throat, he puts his phone down.

"once your done taking notes, you can leave. these will be important for your exams so make sure you write this down."

students begin to scatter, and an suspiciously long line of girls form in front of his desk.

you get up, moving to his desk and skipping the line, ignoring the annoyed looks of the girls.

"so professor-" you cut the girl off, swinging around the corner of the desk and perching on his knee.

"oh. hi." he says, dazed at your sudden position.

"hi baby." you peck a kiss to his cheek, before getting up and standing behind him. eyeing the line of girls who are watching you.

"anymore questions?" he asks, distracted by your hand creeping down his chest from behind.

"no." the group grumbles, heading out the door.

it closes with a slam.

you turn spencers chair around. swinging your legs onto his lap.

"fuck." he breathes, taking in your thighs wrapped around his, and your little plaid skirt, and bra peeking out of your blouse.

"hey spence." you say, pecking kisses along his tilted neck.

"thought id come visit you."

"uh-huh." he stammers.

"but you just looked so good up there, so fucking hot." your hands unbutton his shirt, jacket already discarded on the ground.

"the door, its unlocked." he says, eyes blown at the sight of you.

you huff, climbing off his lap and quickly looking it. shedding your blouse, you walk back and sink to your knees in front of him.

"god-" he whispers, and you unzip his pants, shuffling them down.

"what did i do to deserve this?" his hands reach up to your hair, tugging it into a ponytail.

"did so good in your lesson baby, wanna treat you." you palm him through his boxers, before sliding them off.

placing a kiss on his tip, you run your tongue along his shaft, looking up at him, eyes wide. his head is tipped back, addams apple exposed and hair falling messily everywhere. such a pretty sight.

hes groaning, coming undone so quickly by the calculated movements of your tongue.

"fuck!" he gasps, as you pick up your pace, drawing his orgasm out.

"such a pretty girl on her knees for me." he says, fucked-out.

you smile raising off the ground and straddling his lap. his dick hardens underneath you.

"want you inside me baby.." you whisper, kissing his neck as you slide your panties to the side.

you tease your slit with his tip, before sinking down onto him with a groan.

it doesn't take much for you to both finish. messy and rushed kisses as you clean up and leave before his next class, promising more when he returns home..

#me randomly re-entering the fandom after ages! hi there!#oneshot #fluff #smut #female reader #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfic #professor spencer reid smut #spencer reid masterlist

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hannie-dul-set · 6 months

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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [7].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. the usual amount of swearing and ruining the lives of men, jay goes through an crisis, mentions of hairballs, mc is extra menacing this chapter. WORD COUNT. 3.8k.

NOTE. here....it is..... this has been long overdue and i'm so sorry AHAHAH but i did say that i'm gonna update this whenever i want. anyhow, this is the jay chapter! and i hope this makes up for the one month long delay! enjoy, please let me know what you think<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 7 — sexy goth jellyfish.

YOU DON’T THINK YOU’LL EVER GET SICK OF WAKING UP AND GETTING LULLED BACK TO SLEEP BY THE MOST COMFORTABLE MATTRESS IN THE WORLD. Seriously. You’re considering hoarding it back to your dorm once you leave at the end of the month.

It’s the best thing about this house. The second best thing is having your breakfast cereal already laid out for you in the kitchen the moment you step downstairs. This princess treatment is going to get you spoiled.

The odd thing about today, however, is that your usual bowl of Cheerios is nowhere in sight.

You rub your eyes, proceeding to squint at the counter because maybe you just aren’t awake enough yet. But it’s still not there. You look over to the sink. There is no evidence that someone ate your cereal. What happened? Did your cereal robot sleep in today? Did he die? Are you gonna have to make your own bowl of cereal from now on?

“Good morning.”

Sunghoon greets you upon walking into the living room, cereal-less and still groggy. Beomgyu is also there, cross legged on the couch and playing something on his phone. “Good—” you greet back, scratching your hand underneath your shirt with a big yawn, “—morning.” For some reason, Sunghoon suddenly looks scandalized. You ignore it and stretch out your arms above your head with another yawn.

“Please— oh my god, please don’t do that. I can see your un—underwear.”

You pause mid-stretch, arms up in the air, shirt hiking up a little. “What color?” you ask.

“Grey! Why would you ask me that?!”

“Ooh, correct.” You drop your arms down. “I thought you were kidding. Sorry, my bad.”

You grin and shoot them a peace sign. “Sunghoon, go get the PD&J,” Beomgyu announces, eyes not leaving his phone. Your expression quickly moltens into a glare and a grimace. Dammit, you’ve been careful all this time. You blame your lack of early cereal nutrients for this carelessness.

“I’ll pay later,” you grunt. “Anway, where’s Jay? He didn’t make my cereal today so I’m assuming the worst.”

“Is he your slave?” you hear Beomgyu retort. You’ll deal with him later.

Thankfully, Sunghoon is normal(?) and answers your question promptly. “Out on the deck,” he tells you, and you look over to the open glass doors past your dining setup leading up to the sunlit deck outside. You squint, unable to spot a life form of any sort at first, but after a moment of letting your eyes wander, you finally see it.

Jay is laying flat on the wooden floor, shades on, facing directly at the sun. “What’s up with him?” you ask Sunghoon. There are pieces of paper with unidentifiable contents scattered around the motionless man. You fear he might be actually dead.

“He’s photosynthesizing,” he replies. You should’ve known better than to expect a correct answer.

“He’s not a plant,” you scrunch your nose. “It’s past nine. He’s not getting any more vitamin D at this hour.”

Sunghoon simply shrugs and Beomgyu is still busy yelling profanities at his phone. You sigh. Time to take care of things yourself, so saunter over to Jay’s tanning bed and crouch down near his head, arms crossed. Is he asleep? you furrow your brows and peer down a little closer. His pitch black sunglasses are making it impossible to tell.

“Wow. This is the first time I’ve seen you upside down.”

And he’s alive.

“Hey,” you call out. “What are you doing?”

Jay has his hands symmetrically placed on his abdomen, and he remains unmoving when he opens his mouth to reply. “Brooding,” he says, and you are granted more questions than answers.

“Don’t people usually do that in the dark?”

“I don’t conform to society’s standards.” Jay sits up, so you lean back. You watch him as he adjusts the shades on his nose bridge, ruffles his hair as if there’s a camera pointed at him, then says, “I’m absolutely fucked. I don’t know what to do.”

Woah, there. Looks like Mr. Easygoing is going through some troubled waters.

“Alright.” You shuffle out of your crouching position, dropping to paneled wood to cross your legs for a more comfortable position. “Lay it on me,” you announce, ready to sunbathe and hear a very very long story.

Jay stares at you. There’s a wrinkle between his brows.

“Go ahead.” You nod decidedly.

After another pause, Jay shrugs and sets his head down on your crossed legs, laying back down but with you as his new pillow. That’s not what you meant, but you roll with it. This is an opportunity to braid knots his hair. “So I took a summer class, right,” he starts, and you dig your fingers into the dark strands. “Women’s wear design. Thought It’d be useful for androgynous clothing ideas, but anyway.”

Wow, it’s so soft, you think, finishing a single braid. “And then?”

“Well. For our final project, we need to have a live model to wear our design prototypes. To test their functionality and all. A friend of mine already agreed a few weeks ago, but she suddenly canceled yesterday, so I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.”

His hair slips out of your fingers. The gears in your brain start to churn. “When’s the presentation?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Have you asked someone else?”

“Yeah. I’ve already tried calling everyone I know.”

“And?”

“I ran out of people,” he says. “I’m screwed, right?”

“I feel like there’s more to this.”

A third voice suddenly pops up and you flinch. “Holy shit,” you turn to see Heeseung sitting next to you. He looks like he’s been there for a while and you make your surprise very evident by how wide your eyes are staring at him. Jay props up, also looking at him. “When did you get here?”

Heeseung ignores you. “Jay,” he starts. You’re gonna get back at him for that. “What did you tell Eunmi when you asked for her help for the project?”

Eunmi is a familiar name. You’re pretty sure she’s the one that stormed out of the house the other day. “I told her that I had a problem and asked if she could do me a favor.

Your brows knit together. Wait a minute. “And what else did you say?”

“I also asked if she didn’t mind taking her clothes off,” he says. “Why?”

Silence sets in. It simmers for a while. You and Heeseung share a look. “Jay,” you call out. He gets off of your lap and sits up, turning to face you. You press your lips together. How do you break it to him?

“Dude, I’m pretty sure she thought you were asking to hook up.”

You double over and nearly let out a gasp. So the mysophobe isn’t hasn’t completely eroded his social awareness. You are both horrified and impressed, and he’s looking at you like he can hear your thoughts, visibly offended.

“Heeseung’s right. Girlie probably thought you’d be using your measuring tape for something else outside of measuring.” They both give you a look. Maybe you gave Heeseung too much credit. “What? After measuring her tits and ass, imagine her disappointment when you went off to measure her ankles next.”

“Well, I’m a fashion major, what did she expect?”

“I don’t know, maybe some dressmaker-themed BDSM shit!” you huff. “Don’t you know you know anyone else that can model for you?”

“I’m pretty sure all the girls in his contacts have him blocked,” Heeseung says.

You grunt and lean back, the deck warm on your palms. “Okay. I didn’t want to do this, but—” You sigh. Your shoulders slack, and you run your fingers through your scalp with a deep inhale. Jay and Heeseung nudge themselves closer. You give them three more seconds of suspenseful silence— one…two…three.

“But we don’t have much of a choice.”

His dumb sunglasses are still keeping his eyes hidden, but you’re pretty sure Jay is looking at you like you’re the second coming of Christ. On the other hand, Heeseung looks suspicious. You assure them that you’ll take care of, telling Jay to go upstairs and prepare his design prototype in case he needs to make any alterations, and Heeseung follows you to the living room, where Sunghoon and Beomgyu are still lounging around.

They turn their heads the moment you enter. Sunghoon and Heeseung’s eyes are trained on you as you approach Beomgyu, who has now settled down his phone to give you a disgruntled expression— impatient and nervous because, “what the fuck are you up to this time?” he voices out. You spare him an extra second of agony and tell him what you came for.

When the words leave your mouth, Beomgyu nearly chokes on the air.

“I’m sorry, what?”

His eyes are wide, looking up at you.

“What did you just say?”

“I asked if you can pretend to be a woman for a day,” you repeat. Beomgyu is looking at you like you’re insane.

“What the fuck?”

“C’mon!” you exclaim, hopping down on the plush sofa cushion next to him and he jumps and flinches away. There’s a reason why you adore fucking with Beomgyu the most. “It’ll only be for a day! Do it for Jay! Whoa. That rhymes.”

“Why me?!” he shrieks. The reason is he fights back. He makes it all the more satisfying when he inevitably admits defeat.

“Because you’re arguably the prettiest one of the lot!” You bounce closer, trapping his between the armrest and your enthusiasm to see him in a fucking dress. “Have I ever told you that your eyes are like, really, really pretty? And your facial structure is already so nice and elegant, I really don’t need to do anything with makeup, you’re already perfect!”

With each word you utter and with each centimeter you lean closer, Beomgyu’s face gets increasingly redder and brighter. “Your— your flattery won’t convince me to fucking cross dress in public, you psychos!”

Before you can get the chance to say ‘so you don’t mind doing it in private?’ Beomgyu tries pushing you off, but he’s too flustered to put any strength in. The opportunity to grab his wrists and pull him closer simply just presents itself. “C’mon!” you tug him in. “Swallow the toxic masculinity, Beomgyu! I believe in you!”

“No!”

He manages to roll off the sofa and retreat to his room. As Beomgyu’s heavy and hasty footsteps fill the air, the sound growing weaker by the second, you turn over to Sunghoon, who is sitting on the individual seat. He meets your eyes. “No,” he says before you could open your mouth. “Absolutely not.”

Sunghoon doesn’t waste a second to get up and follow Beomgyu’s escape pattern. “Sunghoon! Sunghoon, wait!” you yell after him. When he pads up the stairs, you stop at the bottom of the flight and watch as he scurries up the floor. “Are you upset that you’re the second choice? That doesn’t mean anything! You’re pretty too! I love your nose and your pretty face moles and—”

And he is gone. You turn back. “Well, I tried,” you shrug. Heeseung is wearing an expression you can only describe as severe perturbation. “Soobin and Jake aren’t home. That’s a bummer.” Then again, Jake would probably be down for it, which is no fun. And you can’t risk making Soobin cry again. Your list of crimes is already long enough. Beomgyu has the copy.

“Of all the solutions you could come up with, I didn't think you’d go for the crossdressing route.”

Heeseung is leaning against the sofa, arms resting on top of its plush back. “Actually, I never even considered it,” he adds. “I thought you’d volunteer to model for him yourself.”

You make your way back to the living area with a yawn. Shrugging, you say, “I am.”

His brows scrunch, eyes narrowed. “Then why did you—” Heeseung stops thinking. He gives you a look of distaste. “You’re pretty evil, you know that?”

A laugh escapes your lips, and you hop on the couch Heeseung is leaning again. He visibly flinches when you do, but he doesn’t move away. So you sit up with your legs still on the sofa, knees sinking into the cushions, and you poke your nose forward so that it nearly bumps into his.

“What are you—”

You inch your face closer. “It’s not my fault that you guys are easy targets.” You can literally hear his breath getting taken away. You flash him a wide grin.

“Calm down. I’m moving away, moving away. No need to run.” When you flop back to lie on the sofa, Heeseung’s pink-tinted face is in full view, and he’s trying his best to hide it from you all while still trying to shoot you a glare. At some point he’s going to snap at you, for sure. Until that happens, you’re free to mess with him. “Anyway, I’ll be off to Jay’s secret lair. That is unless you man up and take one for the team, and—”

“Bye.”

Like the other two, Heeseung stomps away. You let out a huff of air. “You’re all weak as shit,” you call out. Maybe one day you’ll get the chance to give one of them a makeover. Maybe one day you can paint their nails and do their eyeliner.

Jay can’t express just how grateful he is for you.

No, really. He can’t. He tried telling you that he owes you his life when you told him not to worry about it and just go upstairs and prepare his things, but all that jumped out of his mouth is a measly, “you’re so cool,” before leaving you with Heeseung.

That won’t do it. He’s gonna say thank you and a million more once you show up in the storage room-turned-office-slash-workspace next to his bedroom, and you’re going to be so impressed by his thanking skills. But the feeling is all muffled and fuzzy inside his chest— like a way too stubborn hairball he can’t cough out. So when you knock on his door and take a peek inside the extension of his room, all he can say is, “I made the carpet. Pretty cool, right?”

“Oh!”

Jay watches as you crouch down almost immediately upon his mention, feeling the mishmas of fabric texture with your palms. Your hands are running through a patch of faux fur, stitched to some leftover corduroy. You’re stepping on denim, and in between you and him is a large swab of linen. “Holy shit. This is pretty cool.”

There’s a thump in his chest. He’s pretty sure you’re the first person to say that after the other dozen people that have been here before you.

Then again, Jay’s pretty sure you’re the first for him on a lot of things.

He fears the hairball lodged in his throat just multiplied.

“So.” You pull yourself up from the ground. “What are we doing?”

“Oh,” he blinks. “Let me show you the clothes first. It’s a dress. It may not look like one, but trust me it is a dress—” he quickly explains, walking over to the mannequin in the corner of the room, pulling it out from the corner with a bit of a struggle because the wheels get caught in the stringy fabric of his carpet. “You can try it on, but it’s made with Eunmi’s measurements. Tell me if anything doesn’t fit right so I can alter it.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “Hey, I may make fun of you guys a lot, but this time I’m being serious— this is so cool! What the hell, Jay?”

Well, that was a surprise. He didn’t think you’d like wearing something so avant garde. After Eunmi’s reaction to seeing it, he was pretty sure you’d be hesitant. “This will swallow my entire figure! I’d look like a jellyfish! You know what, I was already disappointed when you suddenly started jotting down my arm width. I’m going home. Don’t call me,” was what she said before storming off. But you’re all ooh’s and aah’s as you dig your nose into the thin sheets of intricately sewn on sheer, black fabric.

“I was also serious about the carpet. Hold on let me try this on—”

You struggle taking the dress off of the mannequin. Jay helps you out. “You can change in my room.”

“Gotchu,” you shoot him a thumbs up, running off to the door with the dress flowing in your hands. “Don’t you dare peek. I don’t have any more spare change to throw into that stupid jar.”

“What if I pay for you?”

“Great. Door’s unlocked. Open if you have the balls.” Then you close the door with a still thinly open gap. It’s really is easy to talk to you. You don’t give him a weird look after he says a few words. He can hear your swearing slipping out of the crack in the door. Maybe he should have left you to fend for yourself against his admittedly unconventionally constructed dress.

“Need any help?” he asks, hesitantly inching towards the door.

“I can handle it— fuck, wait, where is my neck supposed to—”

After hearing a thump from inside the room, Jay believes he might have to intervene, else it’ll end up with either a torn ligament or a torn three month long project. He lands a knock on the door. “I think you need my help.”

“Give me a minute! I got this!” A minute. He starts counting down from sixty. And mentally counting down in nothing but silence and the occasional profanities from the other room is giving him some time to think. To think about how even though he’s gone through numerous dates, talked to numerous women, but for some reason they never last long. Well, all except you. You and his mother.

He’s lost count of the times he’s been ghosted (a ghost dress does sound like a pretty good idea), but the times they do communicate— they all communicate with a very familiar script:

“Maybe we should start seeing other people.”

Maybe his bonfire joke wasn’t as funny as he thought.

“Hey, Jay, is it supposed to look like this?” you call out before his sixty second countdown is over. “I think I’m wearing it wrong.”

When he opens the room to his door with a creak, his breath hitches in his throat.

And it’s not the metaphorical hairball that’s been annoying him. Shit. Something about seeing you in a design he’s crafted with his own hands, conjured up with his own brain, is tying all sorts of knots in his stomach. Even when you put your arm in the wrong hole.

“You’re wearing it wrong.” Jay walks up to you next to the bed. The clothes you’ve shedded on in lieu of the dress he made is scattered on his mattress. He swallows hard before laying a discreet hand on your shoulder, tugging on a loose part of the clothing to reveal the armhole.

“Oh! That explains a lot,” you say, slotting in your arm into the correct gap this time. The dress still looks a little off. “I haven’t zipped it up yet. Can you help me?”

He lets out a cough. “Sure.”

Ah, what is going on with him? He’s been sleeping in this same room for nearly a year now, but for some reason the air right now is arid and stuffy and it’s making his head spin. Jay turns you around, a hand on your hip, and zips up the dress that suddenly feels like fire. That doesn’t make sense. It’s supposed to mimic water. Why the hell are his palms burning?

The moment the dress is secured, you quickly look into the mirror. “What...what do you think?” he asks hesitantly. Maybe you don’t like it as much anymore now that it’s on you. Maybe the dress is also burning you. Maybe this design is a failure after all— and he feels that fear being confirmed when your back is turned towards him, and you spend a good minute looking at yourself in the mirror in silence.

Dammit. The damned hairball is back in his lungs.

“I feel…” you start talking. His heart is pounding. Holy shit, he’s never felt this nervous before. “I feel like a sexy goth jellyfish. This is crazy. I love it.”

And just like that, air starts flowing back into his chest.

“Exactly!”

He grabs you by the arm, spinning you around so he can look at you, and the dress fabric flitters along in the air. “Whoa!” you squeak out. He steadies you by the arms. You look at him, wide eyed.

Jay breath’s are bated. The sunglasses he’s got perched on his nose this entire time got crooked from the rush, falling down to the tip of his nose, revealing a look on his eyes that he didn’t know he was capable of making. “You get me,” he breathes out. “You totally get me.”

Something swirls inside the confines of his room. It’s dark. The only light coming in is from the crack into his office and the warm bedside lamp you turned on.

The both of you stay like this for a moment. Until there’s a knock on his door and a voice rips through all of the tension.

“Okay, fine!”

It’s Beomgyu’s voice entering the room along with the sound of the door swinging open.

Creak!

“Fucking fine, I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it as long as—”

It’s not just him. Heeseung and Sunghoon are also there, squeezed between the frame of his now open door. “Oh,” someone says out loud. He’s unsure who. “Oh.”

Somehow, Jay isn’t feeling your arms anymore. He blinks, and you’re not in front of him anymore. He turns his head and sees you in between him and the three other guys outside. “Are you ready to become a sexy jellyfish, Beomgyu?” you taunt, moving further away from him by the second.

Beomgyu looks at him. Then you. Then keeps his eyes on you. “I never said anything. I’m gonna go—”

“C’mon! Don’t I look great? You’d look just as— no, maybe even prettier than me if you wear— wait!”

And just like that you and his dress project run away from the room. Sunghoon’s head whips back and forth between him and wherever you’ve run off to before going after you and Beomgyu as well. Heeseung stays, albeit out the door. “So, did it go well?” he asks. Jay is still staring at the spot where you’d left.

“It went well,” he replies. “I think I’m gonna get a good grade.”

Well that’s not the only conclusion he’s come up with after all that. In spite of the loud noises, the yelling outside, and the threat of his dress getting ripped apart in the crossfire, he’s sure of two things. He is not only sure that he’s gonna ace this final summer project— Jay is sure that he might have just half fallen in love with you, too.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#park jay x reader #jay park x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #park jongseong x reader #jay x reader #txt x reader #enhypen scenarios #txt scenarios #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #lee heeseung x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sim jaeyun x reader

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chubsonthemoon · 3 months

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Happy Binderary 2024!! Kicking things off with the fantastic Never understood a single word he said by dear friend @aboxthecolourofheartache. I had the best time beta'ing this for Box and just had to have it on my shelf! More pics and process info under the cut:

had an absolute blast packing as many easter eggs as I could into this one! it's a roadtrip gone wrong fic heh, so I went for a scrapbook/collage cover made of the same kraft paper I usually use for paperbacks, but left the hinge + spine exposed. I tore each piece from a different sheet of scrapbook paper, so the resulting texture is really fun:

I also went to town with references to some of the events in the story, particularly on the back of the cover. the postcard is probably my favorite element; here are my few first practice runs on scratch paper (along with some of my colored pencil testings for the markings on the map) before I went for it on the real cover!

I repurposed the ribbon graphics I originally drew for another bind (@feralrookie's right where I should be ❤️). the music notes on the first page notate the rhythm of the opening lines of the song the fic is based on, Three Dog Night's "Joy to the World," which I had on loop while I was typesetting this! ("Jeremiah was a bullfrog/Was a good friend of mine.") Box's taste in trigun-themed country and blues is impeccable, and I have a whole spotify playlist made almost entirely of her recs ehe :3

the blank/empty ribbon appears between chapter 1 and the epilogue for story reasons ehe; really wanted to convey the feeling of "where did the music go?", because I also listened to American Pie a lot while making this lolol.

also added little camera graphic at the end, which reminded me of meryl's occupation as a journalist, but the hands/lack of a face holding the camera also gives me the uncanny feeling of being watched/photographed (also plot relevant heh). camera graphic and the house graphic at the beginning are both sourced from Heritage Type's free vintage illustrations, from a series of packs called "Hands Holding Stuff."

the hand holding the house on the title page gave me wolfwood's confessional-on-the-go vibes, BUT it was originally held straight like this:

so I decided to tilt it to give it more of that feeling of instability and "oh shit my entire world is being turned upside down rn god the exits WHERE ARE THE EXITS (there are no exits)" feeling present in the fic :D so I guess it's more of a knives reference?? still, the kind of "what is even going on here?" reaction I had when I first saw it fits well with the title, so I went with it!

and that's it for now!! I'll be out of town for the next week or so, but I have a bunch more projects I'm really excited to share this month, along with some long-overdue author copies that I'm excited to get mailed to their rightful homes!

finally, thank you SO much for letting me bind your work, Box!!! it's always such a pleasure <333

#trigun #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #nicholas d. wolfwood #fanbinding #bookbinding #ficbinding #binderary 2024 #Never understood a single word he said #aboxthecolourofheartache

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saltofmercury · 10 months

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Reunion

Pairing: König x f!reader

Author's note: This fic I think will be broken into three parts. There's so much I want to write but I also need to cut down!

Requested by @wikusiax0

Summary: König takes you to meet his family.

Part 2

"Reunion"

There’s a shaking at the other end of the couch.

His big knee jumps up and down rapidly, sending waves towards you.

You’re used to it by now, calming his nerves about an upcoming mission. You put your hand on his leg, rubbing gently up and down.

The motion doesn’t stop however, prompting you–

“You’re sending a mini earthquake over here.”

He stops, smiling at you. The smile seems forced, showing the dimples carved into his cheeks.

“Sorry schatz” he says absentmindedly.

He takes a deep breath, trying to regulate the chaos that’s sending ripples of anxiety throughout his body.

He starts to fiddle with his fingers.

First cracking them as he brings his knuckles into his other hand and bends, pulling each finger individually. He’s about to crack his first knuckle now, but you stop him.

“What’s going on? I can feel your anxiety.”

He pauses, his bottom lip being bitten by his teeth. You can see how his nostrils kind of flare. He opens his mouth to speak but he ends up laughing.

“It’s stupid really.”

He’s said this before, he’s said that he always gets nervous before a mission. Sometimes you’re not sure if he’s mistaken excitement for anxiety.

However, there's been a small doubt in his mind now that he won’t be as invincible as he once was because now there’s someone else in the picture. Someone who is waiting for him to come home.

You tilt your head, smiling at him, waiting for him to tell you.

“My uncle passed away.”

Your stomach drops, your eyes widen.

“Oh my god why didn’t you say anything?

“This is exactly why. You get weird around death.”

He pokes down at your leg.

This was a bit of an exaggeration. When you told him about how many childhood animals you found out really died and didn’t run away, it opened a floodgate of tears, him consoling you telling you that:

“It was a long time ago, things like this happen.”

It was embarrassing. It had now become something that he thought was triggering towards you.

He exhales, continuing,

“That’s not even the bad part. I hardly knew him and… well, he was hardly my uncle.” eyeing you carefully.

It wasn’t an immediate family member. It was the person behind the funeral who insisted König should come home to pay his respects.

You stop for a second. Confusion clouds your mind, eyebrows shift from their place, you’re about to ask him what the big deal is if he hardly knew him, but he stops you.

“I…uh have to go to Austria.”

“Oh…”

From what he’s told you, it’s been years since he’s gone back. He never had a reason to go back.

His mom was divorced and traveling the world.

His relationship with his dad was never there, so he never put effort into it.

His older brother, much like his dad, was kind of distant towards him. They had each other’s numbers and talked on the phone every other month.

It was sad, but it’s the way he liked to keep it. He told stories of his mom, enduring a relationship she never wanted but kept because she came from a broken family.

She told him once he enlisted that she only stayed so that he wouldn’t be made fun of or looked down upon for having divorced parents.

It was also something he didn’t like to talk about.

He looked at you, bumping his knees together, waiting for an opportunity to bomb you with another surprise.

“Maybe… I was wondering if you could go with me?”

“Me?”

“Yeah why not? We could vacation for a bit, have you meet my family.”

There it was. Something you had always wanted but knew you couldn’t get.

If he was being honest, it had been long overdue —he had wanted you to meet his mom. He could get away with never meeting his dad or brother, but his mom was 100% the reason he wanted to bring you.

There were constant phone calls where she had heard your voice in the background but König had been changing the subject whenever she brought you up.

“I know you’re living together, I am a mother of modern times!”

König laughed, ignoring her and asking her what she did today.

“You can’t keep secrets from mama, at least introduce us on video, I won’t say anything embarrassing!”

“Mama… stop, in time you will meet.”

“In time? When? When I am in heaven?”

König laughed, there was nobody more impatient than his mother.

“Okay,” you nodded your head at him. Biting your cheeks, excitement flowing through your body.

“A week at most, schatz, don’t worry.”

Exhaling, a wave of relief surrounds his body.

At least the hard part is halfway over.

Throughout the week you asked him questions about his family. At least now was the chance to really ask him, get something out of him. Your relationship was very open. You two did not keep things from another and had great trust in one another. There were touchy subjects as all relationships have, but his family was one of the touchiest.

“So what’s your mom been doing lately?”

He looked over at you as he packed his black shirts.

“She … uh… she’s been in Malaysia the last time I spoke to her. She said something about the tropical landscape.”

You nodded, asking if she was still with her boyfriend.

“I guess so, he’s the one who paid for the ticket.”

If he was being honest, he was weirded out that his mom had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who looked just like his dad, but had a softer personality.

You’ll never forget when he had been in his computer room, talking to them through FaceTime, about him spending the holidays in Austria just for a week, when all of a sudden, his mom’s boyfriend called him “son.”

König practically tensed up, you heard it in his voice, his tone had pitched, as he excused himself in English and not German.

You saw his shoulders tense up, along with the face in the monitor scrunch up as he tried to excuse himself again, saying you called over to him.

As he left the call, he bumped right into you, laughing at how weird he got.

“He called me son?! What the fuck!” His face turned red, he shut his eyes, scrunched his nose as if he had tasted something bitter, trying to get the aftertaste out of his mouth.

“He’s just being nice, he loves your mom.”

“Yes but he is not my dad!”

“It’s a term of endearment Konig.”

“Well he can keep it!”

You kept pressing for information.

“What about your brother? Any news about him?”

He eyed you again, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Yeah, he called me yesterday, still painting. Still living with my dad.”

You bit the bullet and asked.

“How’s your dad going to feel about us going there in two days?”

He smirked for a second, his tongue licked his lips as his face contorted to being serious.

“It doesn’t matter because we probably won’t see him. It was my mother’s best friend, my father won’t make an appearance.”

“Oh…”

If you were being honest, his dad and brother were the intimidating ones. You were glad that at least you were going to meet the important person in his life and not the ones who had scared him, and intimidated him.

He closes the luggage and sits on the bed.

“You don’t have to worry. It will be my mom and her boyfriend. This vacation should be simple.”

He traces along the end of the bed, sighing, grabs your hand.

“I know it must be intimidating but I’m really happy you’re coming.”

You smile down at him, adjusting yourself into his lap. He pulls you in, kissing you and falling back onto the bed. He adjusts himself on top of you, kicking the luggage down on the floor.

“I can… show you my favorite bakery, my old school, the nice little pond where my uncle took me sometimes.” He kisses down your neck, pinning your hands above your head.

“You can meet my mom and tell her how much you love me.”

You laugh, sliding your hands from his grasp to his face.

“I’ve been wanting to tell her since forever but you kept delaying our meeting.”

A quick peck to your lips, he sits up.

“Ok go ahead and ask what you want. It’s better to know now then go in blindly.”

You’re quick to ask about his uncle.

“Well, I only call him my uncle because he was my mother’s best friend growing up.”

He eyes you again, trying not to get sentimental.

“He knew my mom first, so he stood by her, often giving her money when she needed it. Giving her a room in his house when things got sketchy after I left.”

“Uncle Elias was friends with both my mom and dad, so he knew a lot about the troubles they had in their marriage from both points of view and he played devil’s advocate for a lot of their fights.”

“It wasn’t until one day that my dad had threatened him to not house my mom or else he would tell his family his true secret… that Elias was gay.”

“I guess my dad has always been an asshole because Elias ended up coming out to his family not on his own terms, but they didn’t care, but he never was the same with my dad anymore.”

“I think part of me does want to go, because uncle Elias was such a good friend to my mom, and an even greater uncle to me, however, part of me hates that Elias still wanted to maintain a friendship with my dad.”

Your eyes meet, and he closes his hand around yours.

“And part of me, regrets bringing you when Elias isn’t even around anymore.”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding slowly.

"It's okay, I've never wanted to rush you."

He looks up at you, forcing a smile.

"Come on, let's finish packing. You'll understand later."

You continue to roll your jeans into your luggage on the floor.

There was just so much more you wanted to ask him, but figured it would be best seeing it in person.

#könig #call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #könig x you

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milky-mink · 2 years

Text

Nanny

Yandere Izana with a Nanny Darling

Disclaimer: Middle-aged but DILF Izana

TW: Yandere, Manipulation, Drugging, Somnophilia, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Mind Break

You anxiously looked over your wristwatch for the seventh time as you waited for the bus to stop at your place. “Come on, I don’t want to be late, '' you thought as you looked over again to the road. There was no vehicle in sight; you then grumbled under your breath. You’ve woken up early and got dressed and even set extra timers for this day. You really couldn’t afford to lose this job since it was the only one that offered excellent pay, and it had employment benefits such as vacation days, extra pay, and even dental plans, which is a far cry compare to your previous jobs, even those that had a decent salary but had a terrible working time and fewer employment benefits. But even then, you really can’t enjoy it because you have somehow gotten fired so suddenly by your employer.

Ever since you graduated from college, it's been hard to get a job or stay there for a long time. Hell, you’ve even tried to apply at a fast-food joint, but you still got rejected, saying that you were overqualified for the job and that it would be a hassle to pay you. That is why you are desperate to arrive on time for this job. Because of your bad luck with your employment, you had been struggling with your budget for months and if you bust this job, your landlord might as well kick you out due to your overdue payment in your apartment.

And you feared that happening since you really didn’t have any family member to take you in, much less a close friend that would do it for you. If you couldn’t keep this job, you were surely going to be homeless next week.

As you mulled over your terrible situation, you suddenly heard a bus coming your way, which snapped you out of your train of thought. “Oh, finally,” you thought as you waited for the bus to stop at your station. When the bus door opened, you quickly entered the vehicle and paid the toll on the machine near the bus driver. Seeing that you are the only one at the station, the bus driver quickly closed the door and drove off to the next bus stop. As you sit on the chair, you quickly pull up your phone and check again on the address that you were going to work at. The place is in Minato Ward in Tokyo, even though you are from Nerima, which is a little farther if you consider the distance of the wards. Despite that, a thirty-minute train ride would be a slight inconvenience to you compared to a lifetime of regret if you don’t take this job, which you desperately need right now.

When the bus finally stopped at the train station, you swiftly exited the bus and entered the train station. You then pull out your phone, which had your IC card on its back, which thankfully still had some balance on it. You then quickly swipe it on the turnstile and run on the platform to wait for the train, to your luck is arriving shortly at the train station. When the train car’s doors open, you shoved yourself into the small crowd who are entering the train. Even though the train is quite packed with passengers, you thankfully found a spot to sit on and relax until you’ve arrived at your stop, which is about thirty minutes if you estimated the time. It would be very painful for your feet if you had to stand for half an hour in the same place.

As you wait for your stop, you pull out your phone again and read the job that you are going to have. It is basically becoming a nanny for a single father that lived alone with his son. Apparently, your employer, Mister Kurokawa, wanted to hire a nanny who has a college degree that involves working with younger children. Luckily for you, you just got your degree in early childhood education last year. Honestly, it was god-sent when you found this job ad while scrolling down through countless job sites on your phone, and it was a miracle when you were quickly accepted by your employer after sending your application online for just a few hours of sending it to them. Honestly, you thought that your employer would not even look at your application. You were just a fresh college graduate with little experience. Don’t even ask about your job history, which is a mess itself. Your job requirement is simple really: take care of the child as best as you can while simultaneously stimulating his capacity for learning and mobility. Which is the usual requirement for most of your previous jobs already. Your employer also sent you information that involves his son. He’s eight months old and dubbed ‘high maintenance’ by his father endearingly. His baby is very dexterous for his age and drinks more milk than a normal baby.

The baby was also very touchy especially to those who they have bonded with the most, which was very usual for babies his age. Mister Kurokawa had also sent you a few pictures of his baby, which were very adorable. Some of them were his baby wearing various colorful onesies, while others were him getting fed by him or his baby doing baby things. It made you hopeful of staying on the job for a long time, or at least a few years, since you are going to teach and raise his baby for quite a long time, and you can finally use your degree in something that you are really passionate about, which was a win-win situation for you honestly. Even if your situation is finally looking up, dread still lingers in your mind, since you have a sequence of bad luck on jobs. What if this also applies to your current one? What if in less than a month, something would happen and your employer, just like your previous one, would sack you quickly because of a reason that is out of your control or was just a small mistake. That really made you nervous, making your palms sweat.

But you shook away those thoughts, wanting to distract yourself from your past. Maybe that this would be different from your past employment since you can only focus on one person and have fewer demands compared to your previous jobs. And besides, you can now actually focus on a child instead of taking care of many without addressing their individual needs. Even though you love your previous experience with some of your previous jobs, it irked you that you can’t focus on a child’s problem without another one taking your attention, making the previous child feel ignored. You love the job really, but sometimes, it could get really demanding not only on your responsibilities but also the children that demand total attention from you.

As you pondered more about your situation, your train stopped and announced that you’ve arrived at the station that is your stop. You got up and exited the train car before looking at the address on your phone; the place that you were going to work at is a little bit far away from the station, but nonetheless, you then swiftly walk towards the exit and walk to your destination. As you walk towards the place, you somehow got lost. It’s your first time in Minato since you’ve never been in this ward of Tokyo before. You bit your lip anxiously while looking again at Google Maps; you have somehow got lost and even an app that could provide your location and ways couldn’t even help you. How screwed up does your luck have to be when it comes to your employment? Just as when you are about to call your employer for directions, you suddenly bump into someone.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you said in a concerned tone as you looked over at who you’ve bumped into. The man was shorter than you. He had healthy-looking tan skin and silky white hair. His eyes were a rare orchid shade, and his face looked like it belonged to one of those foreign models in magazines. His muscles are obvious as he wore a white turtleneck shirt and black baggy pants. “No worries, I’m okay - how about you?” he asked as he looked up at you, which made you lightly blush.

You can’t help but look away in embarrassment. “A-ah, I’m alright, s-sorry for bumping into you,” you stutter, not looking down to meet his gaze. You heard him chuckle in amusement, which made you kind of embarrassed, to be honest.

“Ah, are you lost? You seem anxious while looking down at your phone. Did something happen to you?”

You hear him ask.

You finally look back at him and shyly nod at his question, flustered by how obvious you are, but at the same time, flattered by the person’s concern for you. “U-uhm, it's actually kinda funny really, I have a new workplace at this ward and I- I don’t really know the place, so I use Google Maps and still I’m lost” you mumbled, ashamed of your current situation. As you twirled your fingers, trying to calm down, you saw the man then tilt his head for a moment but then smile at you, “I’m familiar with this place, so how about I point you in the right direction?” he offered, you then looked back at him, eyes widening in surprise.

You thanked the man for his help and apologized again before showing him the address of the place. When you show it to him, to your surprise, he just giggles and then looks at you. “I never thought that I would bump into you, Miss (L/N).”

Your eyes winded, realizing who he is. “M-mister Kurokawa, I-I’m sorry,” you hurriedly said and quickly gave him a low bow. As you looked down at the pavement, you heard an amused chuckle coming from him.

“No worries, Miss (L/N), no need for bowing”. As you heard those words, you looked back at him. Straightening your posture, you smiled, “Thank you for your consideration, Mister Kurokawa, I’m sorry that I have to meet you this way.”

He waved it off and offered to walk you back to his place, which you quickly agreed to. While walking together, you can’t help but to be embarrassed inside, why does it have to be this way to meet your boss? “Oh my god, I hope that he isn’t angry,” you thought as you thought about your earlier interaction.

When the two of you arrived at a rather slick-looking building, it was one of the few skyscrapers in the area, and it looks like it was rather well guarded for some reason. As the two of you entered the building, various people in formal attire bowed down at Mister Kurokawa, welcoming him back. Their action made you nervous, terrible thoughts swirled in your mind as you realized what kind of person is your employer. Obviously, he was a very important person, maybe an owner of a large company or an heir, since he looks too young to be the owner. When the two of you entered the elevator, you kept a polite distance from him, not wanting to make yourself look unprofessional like your previous actions made you seem. You needed to show him just how capable you were to be hired for this job and your previous stuttering didn’t help you gain that image; you hoped that for the next few days, your image in his mind would improve once you’d shown your capabilities on handling your job.

The elevator stopped and opened its doors, revealing a long hallway that led to an enormous door, which had a security camera in front of it. The two of you walked up to that door, which quickly opened once the camera recognized your employer’s face. After you entered the gate, the two of you walked into another hallway that had another elevator, which would most likely be the way towards Mister Kurokawa’s home. The two of you entered that elevator and waited for a few moments before finally arriving at his home, which is a penthouse above this building.

“Oh wow,” you thought as you marveled at the view of the skyscraper. The place overlooked every building in Minato, even the other skyscrapers. You could also look down to see the Tokyo Tower, which was very fascinating. You snapped out of your wonder and looked back at your employer, who was walking around the main building of the penthouse. The two of you entered a glass door that slid open, welcoming you to his house. As you expected, everything looks meticulously placed and designed as if it catered to your boss’s taste, which is most likely the case. The two of you then walked down a hallway, passing by rooms and glass windows that overlooked the gardens and surprisingly a tea house surrounded by a stunning chaniwa garden. The two of you then walked up to a stair which led to the second floor of the house, there you could see that the place has fewer rooms, but it is evidently the most used floor since this would probably be the place where the baby and your boss’s room was located.

The two of you then walked down to a door with a colorful out-of-place sign that said ‘Shinichiro’s Room’. Mister Kurokowa then opens the door, revealing an enormous room that is specifically made for a child. After he opened it, the two of you then heard a loud laughter of a baby, which quickly captured both of your attention. The two of you quickly walked up to the baby’s crib and saw him looking up at the two of you while playing with a small tiger toy. “Aw, your son is so cute Mr. Kurokawa,” you said as you looked at the baby, which is now confused as he focused his attention on you. “Please, call me Izana, Mister Kurokawa makes me feel old. "

You looked at him. “Really? But you look like you're in your late twenties, surely you can’t be much older than that,” you said to him, confused by his statement.

He looked at you for a moment but then let out a small titter. “Miss (L/N), I’m in my early forties, please don’t flatter me like this,” he said with a faint smile on his face. Your eyes winded, early forties? Holy hell, he looked so young!

“I-I meant it Mister- I mean Izana, you really looked younger compared to your actual age!” you exclaimed, bursting your words because of your nervousness. This caused your employer to giggle again before asking you to take a seat on the nearby chair to discuss your duties and responsibilities. The rules were simple really: take care of the child with great care, stimulate his mind and mobility as much as you can, feed him during a specific time period, and quickly change his diaper or clothes if there is even a small body fluid forming and most of all, don’t leave the penthouse without Izana coming back home.

“I assume that this would be simple for you, Miss (L/N)?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Got it, sir,” you said while puffing up your chest, assuring him that you can do this, but this caused Izana to let out an amused smile at your behavior.

Izana then looked at his wristwatch, “Oh, look at the time, it seems that I have work to do down in the building, Miss (L/N). If you need anything that is not available in this penthouse, just go down to the kitchen, and dial the landline phone and my assistant Kakucho will bring it to you,” he said, looking at his baby before he leaves.

After he left, you looked at the baby and smiled. To your surprise, the baby smiled back and even started giggling, which made your heart burst because of his cute behavior. You quickly lifted him up and cradled him to your chest. Although Shinichiro was surprised by your action, he instinctively processed the situation, like he recognized it as someone comforting him. He then let out a gummy smile and babbled at you. You smiled at him. It seems Shinichiro is not that of a fussy baby at all.

“Okay Shinichiro, let’s do some fun activities today, okay?” you said to the baby, the baby let out an excited gurgle as if he can understand your words. You giggled and looked at the clock that was in front of you - it seemed that it was his feeding time. “Okay, but let’s get you some milk first, okay?” you said as you walked towards the refrigerator in the room. The job is not that demanding, and the baby is really cute and not fussy. You just hope that your bad luck has disappeared because you are starting to love your job.

Weeks passed as you continued to be employed by Mr. Kurokawa, or Izana, as he insisted on being referred to. It is really fun and fulfilling to be employed in this job and you are really thankful for it, even though most of your interactions are with the baby or sometimes, Izana himself. But compared to your previous jobs - this one is a piece of cake. Shinichiro is not only unfussy but actually a really playful and active baby, which was a welcomed surprise when you found out about it a few days ago. As you continue to be employed, days have also flown by like it's nothing; before you could exactly recall how many days you have been employed and even remember what your lunch had been at that time, but now? You ertr too focused on caring for the baby to remember those redundant things.

Those memories have been replaced by your activity during your job like how many bottles of milk Shinichiro drink that day or how Shinichiro got up and took one step before he fall down the mattress, which you then quickly take a pic and report back to your boss, even though he didn’t ask for it. This job was really rewarding and at the same time hassle-free for you, it's almost like it's not a job, but a part of your lifestyle by now, which was rare for many people to have, and you are glad that after all of that string of bad luck, you’ve finally found a job that not only makes you employed but also gave you a sense of purpose in life as if this is destined for you.

“Okay Shinichiro, you can do it, come on,” you said to the baby as he warily looked at the floor. You have been encouraging Shinichiro to walk for more than a few steps. You want him to get used to walking and develop his mobility.

“Ehw ah-” you heard him grumble, not wanting to let go of the leg of the green plastic table.

“Shini~,” you playfully whined, wanting to encourage him. The baby looked up to you with a worried expression, still expressed on his face. You smiled in defeat as Shinichiro fell onto the padded floor and crawled towards you, wanting you to lift him up.

“I guess you’re not ready yet, huh?” you said as you cradle the child in your arms, who was burying his head into you, wanting to comfort himself. You smiled at his behavior. You know that someday, Shinichiro would be ready to finally walk a few steps, but not this day.

You sat on the nearby sofa and cradled Shinichiro to make him fall asleep and for you to clean up the place for the night. Just as you were about to place Shinichiro into his crib, you felt your phone then suddenly vibrate. You gently place Shinichiro in his crib and immediately took out your phone to see who was calling you, and as usual, its Mr. Kurokawa.

“Sorry sir for not answering the call quickly, I was just putting Shinichiro back to his crib,” you said to him, and you heard him let out a mirthful laugh.

“It's okay Miss (L/N), and also, did I always tell you that you can call me Izana? No need for that sir nonsense”

You blushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry S- I mean Izana, I’m still not used to calling you so casually.”

You heard him on the other line letting out a hum, which made you very nervous. Although he was satisfied with your performance and conduct, you still couldn't shake off your nervousness because of your past experiences- your previous history still lingered in your consciousness like a faint shadow, as if reminding you of your past every time you’ve made even a simple mistake.

“Hmm, if you can’t get used to it, then can I call you (Y/N) instead? I think that it's unfair for me to call you Ms. (L/N) and me just Izana, and it could shake off that Mr. Kurokawa nonsense in your brain, so what do you say (Y/N), can I call you that?”

Your eyes widened but let out an okay for an answer.

“Great, (Y/N), sorry for calling you at this hour, I just wanted to check in on my son if he fell asleep already, looks like I was right.”

“I-is that all sir?” you asked, wanting to know if he wants to ask other questions related to Shinichiro, which you would gladly reply to.

“Ah no, I was also checking up on you, it's quite late and the last midnight train should be going a few minutes now.” Your eyes winded at his words and you looked at the time on your wristwatch. It's true, the midnight train would be in a few minutes and you are quite far away from the train station. “A-ah, I think I’ll just take a cab...” you replied, not wanting to agitate him due to your current situation.

“No can do (Y/N), there are fewer cabs this time of night and I don’t think that it's safe for you to travel alone during this time, I suggest that you stay at the penthouse guest rooms.”His offer shocked you. You, staying at this place for a night?

“A-are you sure Si- Izana? I do not want to cause you trouble,” you said, troubled at his generous offer.

“It's alright! You’ve been an excellent nanny for Shinichiro, he is much better now compared to before, he even whines to me when you are not in there,” he said mirthfully, praising you for your excellent work.

Shyly blushing at his declaration, you reluctantly agreed to his offer, not wanting to press things further. “I-if you say so, Mis- Izana.”

“Great, good night (Y/N) See you tomorrow.”

He then quickly hung up the call, and you turned off the phone, looking out the glass window of the room. Even though you have been working for Mr. Kurokawa for months now, you still couldn’t get used to it. Unlike before, you now have a job that not only pays you well but also had such a gracious boss that even lets you stay at his house. It's so contrasting compared to your previous jobs and employers, even though some of them are really nice bosses.

“Okay Shinichiro, I’m going to wash up now, be good okay?” you softly murmur as you look down at the baby in the crib. You always wonder who were the people that would care for Shinichiro while you’re gone. He has always been enthusiastic when you go back to your work, seemingly missing you while you were at home. “Oh god, I can’t leave him behind,” you thought as your mind started to fill with ideas about what is happening while you are gone, even though he is alright when you always see him in the morning, it doesn’t change you not knowing what is happening behind the scenes while you were gone made you nervous and even scared for Shinichiro.

You shook off your worries and quickly went to the nearest bathroom, which is in the nearby guest room, to wash up yourself. Thankfully, the bathroom had adult clothing and bathrobes. The clothes were tailored for men, which was alright for you since you only wore baggy clothes in your sleep anyway. You took off your black turtleneck shirt and high-waisted pants, revealing you in your plain gray underwear, and quickly took those off too and washed for the night. When you were done, you looked at the clothes on the bathroom cabinet, although there were clothes in there, you just now noticed that there was no underwear, not even for men. This made you flustered and looked at the washed bra and panty that you have taken off earlier. You can’t wear those, you need to wash them to be dry in the morning. You looked down and blushed at yourself as you put on the baggy t-shirt and short pants that were a tad big for you to fit in, but you managed to make it work as you exited the bathroom and the guest room and quickly entered Shinichiro’s room.

Thankfully, the baby was still sleeping, which means that you didn’t miss anything. You then sigh as you grab a few blankets and pillows and put them on the couch. You sat on the couch and looked at the time, it was almost two am in the morning, which means that you should really be sleeping by now. “Huh, I haven’t been up this late since college,” you thought as you put down your phone on the nearby coffee table and then lay on the couch. You then faced the couch’s cushion and bit by bit, your consciousness started to fade, which eventually puts you to sleep.

A few hours passed by, and you suddenly felt a strange tingling feeling running down your bottom, “Huh?” you mumbled as you felt a wet appendage trailing up to your soft cheeks and unto your clit, licking up a huge stripe. “W-what?” you thought groggily as you tried to look down to see if someone is touching you, but you couldn’t, as if you are paralyzed in your place. The now-identified tongue then started to twirl your clit around for a moment but then a pair of lips suddenly sucked it. “I- ah~ What’s happening?” you exclaimed as a feeling of pleasure then surged throughout your whole body. No, you can’t be feeling good about doing this, you need to get out of here with Shinichiro as fast as you can.

“Hyaa~!” you then mewled as you felt your ass and legs being lifted up by the person and finally tossed the short pants that were dangling on your foot earlier. You felt your assailant’s hot breath on your folds, which made you blush. You felt their fingers gripping your plush thighs as they then started to lick your folds. You wanted it to stop but you couldn’t do anything as the person licked and slurped your cunt as if they hadn't drank water for a long time. You can’t help but finally let out loud moans and mewls as they then finally put their tongue inside your vagina. You felt his hot tongue twirling and retracting it back and forth, fucking you with it. “Ah! Ah! St- Ah~” you moaned as you tried to get this person to stop and let go of you. They stopped, withdrawing their tongue, and finally diving out of your pussy, making you relieved at the moment. But that is proven short-lived as they then quickly shove two of their fingers, fucking you with them. As their fingers are reeling in and out of your pussy, you then hear familiar giggling, almost as if you knew who was doing this to you. The person then started to lap up your juices again, making you moan louder than before.

Right now, you are a mess of a person, both inside and out. Moaning and panting as you felt their tongue and fingers explore your wet, tight insides. You had masturbated on several occasions and felt good every time you did it but the pleasure that you got from touching yourself wasn’t comparable to this one. This made your cunt hot, wet, and tight all at the same time as foreign appendages roamed your wet caverns and sucked on your now sore clit. The heat pooling on your stomach starts to get unbearable as you feel yourself start to come. “Oh no, I’m gonna I-I’m gonna ahh~” you mewled as you felt yourself cumming onto the person’s face.

As you finally let out your cum, you just laid on the couch, panting, having no energy to move a single muscle as you felt the person lick and drink up your cum from your pussy and thighs. As you start to drift back to sleep, you felt the person crawling on top of you and whispering into your ear, feeling his hot breath on your skin.

“Sweet dreams, sugar.”

Your eyes widened as you recognized the voice. “M-Mr. Kurokawa?” you stuttered, not believing what you are hearing right now. You heard him hum and put his palm on your eyes, closing them gently. “Sleep (Y/N), you need energy for Shinichiro tomorrow,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath as he uttered those words. You slowly drifted into a mindless sleep, numbed by the orgasm you had earlier, feeling too tired to even open your eyes as you felt Izana gently cover you with a soft blanket and planted a kiss on your forehead.

You let out a loud gasp and got up from your sleep as you then looked out of the clear glass window of the room. You then tossed the blanket out of your body and then looked down at your bottom. Thankfully, you are still fully clothed down there, panties and all. You sighed in relief and checked out your phone - it’s eight in the morning, two hours before your shift. Slumping back down the mattress, you thought about your dreams earlier. You couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment as you recalled the wet dream that involved your boss eating you out while you sleep. You just can’t believe that you just dreamt about your boss that way. Sure, he was a very desirable man, not only for his physique and attractive face but also for his behavior towards his child Shinichiro. But you couldn’t see your boss in that light! Hell, you can’t even see him even jokingly flirting at you in a friendly way, much less him being so possessive over you.

You then sigh and rub your head. You have a job to do and you have an erotic dream that involved your boss is not going to be helpful. After rubbing your head, you then looked down on your lower half. Although you are sure that is just a dream, you can’t help but have a slight doubt about it because it was so vivid and felt too real. As if that dream of yours really happened. But you shook your head, surely, Mr. Kurokawa is not that type of person to do this. After all, he is so considerate and helpful whenever something has happened during your time at work and he even apologizes and pays you overtime time even though you just stayed more than an hour or so in your shift. Him assaulting you in your sleep is such an absurd thought that it's almost laughable, Mr. Kurokawa is anything but that kind of person.

But you can’t help thinking, what if it's true? That he did just that while you are so vulnerable? You couldn’t help but shiver at that thought alone. He was such a kind and considerate person to you, and it's so horrifying to think that he would do such things to you. You shook your head in disgust, no, why would he do that to you? With only just his physique, he could attract many women who would willingly sleep with him, even if for just a few hours. Him doing something to you, especially eating you out is such a wild thought.

While you are deep in your thoughts, Shinichiro let out a loud wail, which snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at him blankly for a moment before slapping yourself out of it. That’s right- you were only here because you have a job to do, which is taking care of Shinichiro. You shake your head and sigh and quickly get up and walk to his crib. When Shinichiro saw you, he let out his adorable gummy smile, which melted away your dilemma earlier. Smiling, you gently grab Shinichiro and carry him. Mr. Kurokawa would never assault you while you were sleeping - after all, how can a person like that produce such a cute and adorable baby?

It’s been a few weeks after the wet dream incident, but you still couldn’t shake it off your mind. Although you still do your job earnestly, it also affects your relationship with your boss. You really can’t help but to either freeze or flinch, every time he comes near you the flashes of that dream start to come into your mind like a tidal wave- of you being vulnerable under him, struggling to get him off you as you felt his tongue slithering inside your walls while massaging your clit, getting turned on by your whines and pleads. Which doesn’t help your amiable relationship with your boss as you unconsciously try to avoid him as much as possible while at work, which is not that hard considering he always came back after your shift is done.

You really tried your best not to be avoidant of your boss, you really did. But you really can’t help but feel uncomfortable and even scared every time he either touches you or gets close to you. You always triedto rationalize it by thinking that he’s your boss and you are afraid that he is going to fire you anytime soon or any other excuses that you might think. But deep down - deep down, you know that it's because of that realistic dream you had, and deep inside, you are afraid that it might be true that Mr.Kurokawa had assaulted you while you slept that night.

As you were tucking Shinichiro in for the night, you suddenly heard the door open. Looking back, you saw Mr.Kurokawa, who was wearing a dress-like black jumpsuit with silver necklaces and a loose belt. Although he looked so casual, you had a feeling that it's probably not - maybe he’s going out with his friends?

“O-oh, Mr.Kurokawa! I was just tucking Shinichiro in, I’ll be gone in a minute now.” you said as you tried not to look away from him.

Your boss just smiled at you. “No worries Ms.(Y/N)! I was just checking up on my son!” he said in his usual carefree tone that he had. Although you doubted that, you just nodded and continued to tuck the baby into the crib as your boss eerily watched you from behind. When you are finally done, you look back at Mr.Kurokawa and apologize for how late you’ve stayed, and quickly try to get home. But before you do that, Mr.Kurokawa stopped you and handed you some sort of card in your hand. Not wanting to displease him, you took it and looked at what it was. The curiosity turned into shock when you saw the content.

M-Mr. Kuroawa! I can’t take this!” You said as you tried to give the card back to your boss, which shook his head, refusing to take it back.

“You’ve worked for more than eight months in my house with no breaks every day, you deserve this,” he said as you look at him in disbelief. After all, the card that he gave to you is practically a meal pass to one of the most exclusive and expensive restaurants in Tokyo, maybe even in the whole world.

“Sir, I think that this is too much,” you said, trying to reason with your boss, but he just shook his head- insisting that you keep it. You tried to banter with your boss, trying to get the card back to him but he swiftly turned down your proposals and reasonings, and kept insisting that you keep it. In the end, you accepted the card reluctantly and thank your boss in embarrassment, after that you then say goodbye to him and head out of the penthouse and eventually the building.

While walking down the streets of Minato, you looked at the card in both fascination and curiosity. It's an exclusive meal pass for Midori. One of the most exclusive restaurants in Tokyo, it's one of the few three-star Michelin restaurants in Tokyo but unlike the other restaurants, Midori operates for only three months in certain seasons, which makes it difficult for people to dine in or book a reservation for the restaurant. You even heard that the yearly customers of Midori could be counted with your fingers - which means that your boss gave you a card that can basically give you an instant pass to enter and eat for free in Midori just because you didn’t take your vacation leave for more than eight months. Which frankly to you is both very generous and simply ridiculous. You know that many rich people in Tokyo would give you a large sum of money just to get this card and some might even blackmail you for it. You sigh in frustration as you feel a headache building up in your head as you keep thinking about what you are going to do with the card.

Sell it?

No, people might think that it's a fake.

Throw it away?

You know that the guilt would eat at you for a very long time.

You kept thinking about what you were going to do about it until you completely gave up on thinking about it. “Fuck it, I’m just going to redeem this, this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience,” you thought as you clutched the card and took out your phone- googling the location of Midori on google maps and quickly heading off to where it is. When you finally arrived at the building where the restaurant was located, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as the two doormen, who strangely recognized you, quickly welcomed you into the restaurant as if you were a very important person. When you enter the restaurant, one of the waiters quickly walks up to you and asks if you have a reservation - to which you silently reply by giving them the card that Mr.Kurokawa gave to you. The waiter just smiled and gently took the card from your hand, as if they were worried that they might offend you. But you just shook your head, you are just overthinking things since this is your first time in an exclusive Michelin star restaurant, the nerves are maybe getting into you.

When the waiter grabbed the card, another waiter popped up and guided you inside the restaurant. You followed the waiter to your seat, as you subtly looked around the restaurant. As expected it looked classy and fancy. The restaurant itself has a mix of modern and traditional Japanese architecture, although it is located in the middle of Tokyo, the restaurant has a ginormous Tsukiyama garden that can be seen in the whole restaurant, giving the restaurant a much more traditional touch.

When you are finally seated by the waiter, You couldn’t help but feel awkward at the situation as you are the only one in the whole restaurant as there are practically no people in sight. You tried to find a positive outlook in the situation that you are in, hey, at least there are no snobby people that would judge you, right?

As you tried to assess your situation, the server quickly came back and gave you the tasting menu of the restaurant and explained some of the dishes that are written there, which made you nervous since you only knew a few of the items in the restaurant. You just decided to pick the strangest named dishes on the menu, hoping that the dishes that you’ve picked would taste good. The server then jolts down your order as you put the menu on the table. When they are done they cautiously take away the menu and then bowed, saying that your complimentary appetizer would be on its way.

The eighteen-meal course came one by one as you started to eat, some are familiar dishes presented to you such as sushi and sashimi that you know came from expensive cuts of fish while others are western inspired dishes that you couldn’t figure out how to eat but just decided to wing it and eat it anyway. As expected, the dishes are fantastic, and sure, most of them could be eaten in just one bite but the whole course will make you full since the meal was an eighteen-meal course and not just the usual one dish or two that you usually buy when going out. While eating, there was something bothering you at the moment. There were no problems with the dishes since they were all fantastic and the servers were very professional, but there was an eerie feeling while you're eating in the restaurant, as if the servers were afraid of making a mistake or offending you in some way. You tried to comfort yourself by saying that it's just the nervousness of not only dining in a fancy restaurant but also being the only customer dining there but your gut says otherwise, as if something is going on.

But still, you silently ate the dishes that the server explained before serving them to you, just wanting to enjoy the rare experience while ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut. When you finally ate the last dish, two servers appeared in front of you, one cleaning out the dirty utensils on the table while the other poured you a glass of wine. The server who poured you the wine explained what wine it is and how old or what kind of fragrant and texture it has. Apparently, it's a 1968 Bruno Giacosa Collina Rionda wine from Italy, one of the finest wines that they have on their shelves right now.

When the server places the wine glass on the table, you then hold the stem of the glass and curiously sniff the wine, before taking a sip. But before you can finish the whole glass, you start to get dizzy - your vision blurring and you trying to hold on to the table, afraid of falling into the floor. But it's no use as your body slumps down on the ground, causing the half-sipped wine glass to break and it's content to spill into the ground.

As your vision darkened, you saw two men, who were in suits walking toward your form, “Hurry up Rin, the boss would be angry if we took too much time,” you heard one of the men say while the other just hummed in response. You felt yourself being carried by one of them, you aren’t sure who is carrying you since you are barely strong enough to see. As you start to fall unconscious you hear a familiar person that made your blood freeze in fear.

“Be careful with her, Izana wouldn’t want her to be injured.”

“K-Kakucho?” That name was in your final thoughts as you slipped out of consciousness, not strong enough to fight it any longer.

Your eyes opened slowly as you woke up with your head aching, and although you were awake, you still couldn’t really feel anything around you due to you being drugged earlier. As you started to get a grip of your consciousness, you couldn’t help but be shocked when you finally saw what was going on.

“M-mister Kurokawa?” You looked up at him, grunting and moaning as you felt your cunt being penetrated by his dick, you can’t help but moan as he keeps pounding your pussy into oblivion. “Ah, (Y/N) you’re awake,” he said as he continued slamming his long dick into your tight walls, rhythmically keeping up his pace as your confused face contorted into pleasure. Although it felt pleasurable by his actions, you can’t help but feel betrayed and hurt as the person that you’ve looked up to did this to you. You should’ve listened to your guts and kept your distance from him as much as possible or even outright quit the job even if you struggled to find one.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you kept thinking about maybe’s or what-ifs, as his cock kept stretching your wet but tight pussy. “Princess, don’t cry, I’m here to make it better,” you heard him say as he wiped away your tears and kissed your lips, entering his tongue into your mouth as his pace feverishly started to get faster. While his tongue swirled with yours inside your mouth, twirling your tongue with his, you suddenly felt a sudden jolt down there- it seems that his dick hit a specific place that you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure.

When he heard your loud but unwilling moan, he stopped his movement and ended the kiss, which made you confused at first until he started to take his dick off of you until its tip is the only thing inside. He then quickly buckled his hips and slammed his cock into your pussy all the way into its hilt. You couldn’t help but loudly moan as you felt him pounding you like an animal, his dick continuously hitting that spot. “Sh-shtop-” you slurred as you felt his dick getting bigger inside you. But he ignored your pleas as he quickly slammed his dick back into your pussy, making you flinch in pleasure while shutting you up in the process.

“Ah~ (Y/N) your pussy is clenching my dick so hard,” he moaned as you felt his dick start to twitch while also feeling the heat and pleasure bubbling up inside you.

“S-top, please Mr.Kurokawa-”

You were cut off by your boss as his sharp gaze looked at you, and although his lilac eyes are soft, you couldn’t help but see another expression in his eyes.

“Don’t call me that, call me Izana,” he said as he kept his eyes locked on yours. If this wasn’t an unwanted situation, you ought that this would have been very romantic, but right now - it's the opposite of that.

“M-Mr, Haaah~” you moaned, not even saying his name as he pinched your sensitive clit.

“No, Mr.nonsense, just call me by my name,” he said, as you desperately looked up at him, wanting this to end.

“I-Izana, s-s-top, I’m gonna -”

You saw him smile knowingly as he kept pounding in and out of your cunt.

“Gonna what princess?” he teased.

You can’t help but cry in pleasure as you felt yourself cumming all over his dick as you clench his back for support, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. After your orgasm, you felt him start to quicken his pace, continuing that feverish phase from before. With a few strong and quick thrusts, he unloads his cum inside your tight walls, moaning in pleasure as your pussy milked his dick for all its worth while you lay there panting; your naked form twitching and convulsing in overstimulation due to the climax earlier.

As he finished cumming inside you and pulling his dick out of your insides, you then looked up to him, tears rolling down your eyes.

“P-please, l-let me go,” you said as you fruitlessly tried to get away from him. When he saw you trying to move away, he quickly grabbed both of your thighs and spread them, making your pussy, which was still twitching while oozing with his semen, visible to his view.

“Look at you, after you milked my dick, your pussy still wants my cock so bad,” he said as he used his finger to push the semen back inside your cunt, making your toes curl due to your body being sensitive.

“I- please Izana, I won’t tell anyone about this” you plead, wanting your boss to let you go. He stops as you look at his expression, his expression now turned dour by your words. “Or what (Y/N)? You will quit and go back fruitlessly trying to find a job?” your eyes widened in shock at his words. He let his finger out of your walls but kept his hands on your knees, still spreading your legs apart.

“H-how did you know that?” you stuttered as he kept his gaze at your naked form, smiling at your question.

“I run background checks on all of my employees (Y/N), especially for the one that would be taking care of my child,” he replied as you looked down in shame.

He continued. “Do you want to go back to that lifestyle (Y/N)? On the verge of being homeless with no one to turn on or help you?” You tearfully looked away, feeling your heart clench, it's true, all of his words are true. Izana saw your forlorn expression and gently touched your cheeks making you look up at him again. “It doesn’t have to be that way (Y/N), you have Shinichiro and me, you don’t have to be lonely anymore,” he said as he gently hugged you. You couldn't help but start sobbing on his chiseled chest. “There, there,” you heard him mumble as he caressed your back trying to soothe you.

The two of you stayed there for a while until you felt his dick harden inside of you again. “(Y/N),” you looked up to Izana who was smiling at you. “Can I?” he asked as you felt his dick twitching inside your pussy. Without a care in the world, you nodded and then spread your cum filled pussy with both of your hands, worldlessly coercing him. As he starts to move again, he smiled and look at you.

“I love you, (Y/N), I really do.”

Your dull eyes looked at him, not minding the situation anymore. Smiling, you hugged his neck and gently kissed his lips. “I love you too Izana,” you replied earnestly. As you felt his hips start to move again, you can’t help but feel nothing anymore. He’s right, there is nothing for you out there, no family, friends and barely finding a job, who is the person that took you in? That’s right, It's Miste- no, Izana. He’s the one that gave you every opportunity that you desperately needed and on top of that, Shinichiro gave you purpose again, he would be lonely without you.

With that in mind, you tightened your grip as Izana bucked his hips down on you, pounding you into the mattress as your pussy started to clench tightly around his dick. It’s alright, as long as you have Izana and Shinichiro, it doesn’t bother you anymore.

You finally have people that would be with you.

You are not alone anymore.

As you slip into pleasure once more, you couldn’t help but feel like something broke inside of you- no matter what it was, it's just a minor inconvenience anyway.

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holdmytesseract · 5 months

Text

Gym Sessions & Babies

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki & Narfi feat. Y/N

Summary: Loki takes baby Narfi with him for a long overdue gym session - and gives Peter dating advice.

Warnings: thirst - quite a lot... Loki at the gym (Yes, I consider that as a warning.), fluuuff, Loki being the best, sexiest dad and dating advisor

Word Count: 3,7k

a/n: I just had the idea for this and was like: Yes, I have to write it. 👀🔥 @muddyorbsblr knows, tehehe... I hope y'all love the combination of this as much as I do! 😁 Oh, and I absolutely love Loki's and Peter's friendship. 🥹

Baby Fever Crew: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @xthatpottahfanx @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @lokiforever @crimson25 @kimanne723 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @noideakitten @zombiesnips-blog @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @princess-ofthe-pages @coldnique @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokisrealpurpous

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Quietly sneaking down the hallway, Loki slipped the baby monitor into the left, deep pocket of his gym shorts, before he tiptoed straight into direction main door.

The god hadn't seen the gym in weeks. Months. Well, admittedly, he had more important things to do than keeping his godly body in perfect shape. Becoming a father again for example and with that taking care of you; helping wherever he could. Besides, having a newborn was just downright exhausting. In the best way possible, but still. Not to forget that he was spending a lot of time with his princess, too - who enjoyed that her father was home way more often at the moment. There was simply no time for things like the gym.

Until today.

Loki woke up that morning with the absolute motivation to do a few workouts today, and since you were on the road, driving Ella to her friend Tara for a slumber 'party' in the evening, he saw his chance. Sure, he still had to go after his parental duty and watch his little Frost Giant, but said little Frost Giant was sleeping like a rock - at least that was what the god thought...

He tied his wild raven curls into a manbun, checked the baby monitor again, grabbed his stuff and the keys, was ready to leave the apartment - but didn't get that far. Just when he wanted to plant his food behind the doorstep, sprung the baby monitor to life; telling Loki that his son had other plans and was audibly awake now.

A sigh left the god's lips. "Oh, really now?"

He put his things down on the little shelf again and hurried to yours and his shared bedroom. Opening the door, he got immediately greeted by a wide awake Narfi, who laid on his stomach, gurgling happily - even more, when he saw his dad.

"Little prince..." Loki said; putting his hands on his gym shorts clad hips. "Why are you suddenly awake now, huh? You should be sleeping. Didn't sleep very much last night..." Narfi just continued to gurgle and coo; kicking his small legs.

Loki sighed again and stepped over to the little crib; lifted the four-month-old up into his arms. "Did you sense that daddy wanted to leave, huh?" He asked; gently bouncing the little boy up and down and peppering his black fuzz covered head with tiny kisses. "What are we going to do now with you, young man?" Big, innocent ruby eyes looked up into his, causing Loki's heart to flutter. Oh how much he loved his babies.

Narfi clearly enjoyed to be held by his father. Loki could tell. His prince is the same like his princess was, back when she was a baby - and that gave him suddenly an idea.

"Ohhh, I know what we are going to do. Why didn't I think of this earlier?!" Loki smiled and laid Narfi back down in his bed - what he didn't like at all; a complaining whine leaving his small, now pouty lips. "Hang on for a minute, little prince. Daddy will be back within the blink of an eye, I promise!"

Loki quickly made his way to the little storeroom; searching in the depths of random stuff which found its place there over the years. "Where is it?" He asked himself; looking around. "I know I put it somewhere- Ahh! There you are!" With a bright smile, Loki reached for the object of his desire, adjusted it to his upper body and returned to his baby boy.

"Daddy just takes you with him. What do you say, little prince? Would you like that?" Narfi's eyes seemed to shine at his father's words; a heart melting squeal leaving his lips. Loki chuckled, lifting him once again out of the confines of the crib, "I take that as a yes." and strapped him to his chest with the help of the baby carrier he proudly possessed. It was the same baby carrier he used with Ella all those years ago. A smile stretched across the god's face at the memories.

"Do you like it?" Narfi flounced at first quite a bit; being not used to this, but when the baby felt how comfortable it was and how warm, he snuggled further against Loki's chest; enjoying his warmth and closeness. His tiny fingers dug in the fabric of the god's black compression t-shirt; holding on to his father. A big coo left the baby's lips. Loki chuckled; "Thought so." dipping his head to press a lingering kiss on Narfi's head; inhaling his scent. The soft fuzz on his head tickled Loki's chin. "Let's go. Perhaps you're going to get some more sleep, now that you're strapped to my chest. Isn't that a perfect deal, little prince? You get some sleep and almost skin-on-skin contact and I get to have you close and go to the gym. Definitely a win-win situation."

After grabbing a towel and a bottle of water, Loki made his way to the gym - which was luckily just a few floors away.

Said gym was very empty this evening. Nobody was there, except a few agents - and the youngest Avenger, Mr. Parker.

He was running on the treadmill, was highly concentrated - until he spotted Loki and the baby. His eyes stuck on the god; a smile spreading on the young man's face. "Ohh, hey Mr. Lo- woaaaah!" Losing his focus caused Peter to almost stumble and get thrown off the treadmill while waving theatrically, but he made it to catch himself in the last second. "Whoopsies, that was close," Peter whispered to himself, panting, before the smile returned to his face.

"Hey, Mr. Loki! And hello, cute little ice cube!" Loki raised an eyebrow in amusement and smiled. He didn't know why, but somehow he had developed a little soft spot for the Spider kid in the last few years. Peter was just so uncomplicated, funny, friendly and a little bit... clumsy and naive. Since he became a father, he understood the teenager way better than before.

"Hello, Peter." Loki greeted the young man, who was still running fast on the treadmill and stepped over to him. "What are you doing here, in the gym? I never saw you here before..." Peter blushed immediately; his cheeks tinting dark red. "Well, uh, I just thought I could try it; see if the gym is something for me. Mr. Stark said I have to stay fit as an Avenger."

Loki didn't believe a single word. The god chuckled and shook his head. "Peter, you are a very bad liar - and trust me, I'd know. You can't trick the Trickster. I thought you knew that." The teenager's eyes widened in shock and realisation - and this time he really lost all his focus and concentration; got thrown off the treadmill. "Woaaaah!" Almost. Loki's seidr caught the man before he could hit the hard gym ground and hurt himself.

Catching his breath and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he looked thankfully at the older man opposite him. "Oh man... Thanks, Mr. Loki, I lost control a bit..." Loki chuckled, "I saw that." and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Why don't you go a bit slower first, huh? And tell me why are you truly here in this unknown territory."

The teenager nodded; blushing once more and got back on the treadmill; only jogging this time.

Loki placed his towel and bottle of water on the ground and looked expectantly at the young man. "So? I'm all ears," he assured; gently bouncing up and down, in order to calm the slightly fractious Narfi in his baby carrier. Loki knew that his son wanted more attention from him, so he wrapped an arm around the small boy and cupped his head with the other.

"Well, um, I... I just want to look a bit more after my body and, uh, yeah... Train my muscles..." Loki frowned; his brain trying to connect the dots - until it suddenly hit him. A mischievous smile spreading on his face.

"You are doing this to impress a girl, don't you, Mr. Parker?" Peter looked at the god like a deer caught in the headlights - and Loki knew he was right.

"Thought so," he said; smirking victoriously. "I-I, uh..." Peter stuttered; stumbling over his own words and was still redder than a tomato. "You don't have to be embarrassed, Peter. That is great. I remember, when I fell in love for the first time... It was... wonderful." Peter smiled sheepishly. "Yeah?" "Yes." "Do you remember falling in love with Agent Y/N?"

Loki chuckled; his heart beating faster at the mention of your name. "Oh, Peter... I'm still falling for her... Everyday a little more." Peter smiled. "That sounds beautiful, Mr. Loki..." The god nodded; still bouncing with Narfi softly up and down. "It is. Finding true love is special. Nothing compares to it. I mean, we had a bit of a bumpy start, but... We found each other in the end. And now look at us. Married, since a few months blessed with two children..." Loki looked down at the drowsy baby in his arms. The bouncing had clearly helped and had almost lulled the little Frost Giant to sleep by now.

"Do you intend to court the lady of your interests?" The teenager blinked; a gigantic question mark forming over his head. "Do you wish to take her out on a date?" "O-Oh, um, I don't know, I... I don't even know if she likes me or not, but her, uh, ex-boyfriend was a footballer, so-" "So you thought going to the gym, gaining muscles to look bulky like her ex makes her fall in love with you?" Peter chuckled nervously, "Perhaps?" causing Loki to shake his head immediately. "That is definitely not the right way to do this, young man. Appearance shouldn't be that important to you - or her. Sure, it's not unimportant either, but... Character traits are so much more relevant. If that girl truly likes you and cares about you, she won't care if you have a six-pack or not. Do not change your appearance just to be liked by other people - or girls." Peter sighed; and stopped the treadmill.

"You really think so, Mr. Loki?" "I know so, Peter."

The young Avenger smiled. "Thank you." "You're welcome. If you want more advice in wooing a lady, you can always ask." Loki patted Peter's shoulder. "Also, if you need help with the training, you are welcome to ask me, too. I think I'll be around for quite a while. Depends on how my little man here likes this." The god gestured around the big room. "You'd really help me?" "Sure." The teenager smiled once more. "Thank you, really - but I think, I, uh start slow and stay on the treadmill for now." Loki gave him a nod, "Like you wish." grabbed his things and went to the back of the gym, in order to warm-up a bit. He did a few different stretches - those which were possible with a baby strapped to his chest. Loki was careful the whole time, not to hurt little Narfi - who was dozing off more and more; luckily.

To finish his warm-up, he did a lunge. One knee placed firmly on the ground, the other leg angled in a perfect 90 degree angle. Loki checked on Narfi; looking out for his bent leg to not harm him. In order to prevent that, he made sure that the little boy was basically sitting on his leg. Then he stretched his arms up; stretching all the muscles in his upper body, too. He held that position for quite a few moments - until Narfi's small knee connected full force with his side; hitting him straight in the ribs.

"Ouch..."

Loki got on both knees; breaking the exercise. "What was that for, little prince?" He asked his son, who was looking innocently up at him; nibbling on his tiny fingers. "Was this specific warm-up excercise not to your liking, your majesty?" A heart melting coo left Narfi's opened mouth. "I take that as a yes. Well then..." The god stood up from the mat beneath him. "I think daddy's warmed up enough now anyway. Let us move on." Taking a sip of his water, he walked over to the leg press first. Loki mostly started his training with this gym machine.

He placed the towel on the backrest of the seat and sat down. "Alright..." He changed the weight, lifted up his legs and placed them on the board; again making sure to not squeeze or hurt the baby. "Are you ready, little prince?"

Then Loki started to push; making the muscles in his legs work.

While his dad worked hard, Narfi quite enjoyed the new position he was in. Sure, the baby carrier left not that much space to move (which Narfi didn't want anyway), but due to gravity, he was practically laying on his father's chest now. And that meant more body contact and warmth. Plus, it was a great position to sleep in - as Loki recognised after he was done with the reps.

Sweating and breathing deeply in and out, he looked down to find Narfi peacefully sleeping. The god smiled, "Finally..." and moved on to the next gym machine - the chest press.

Like before, he adjusted the weights, made sure his baby boy was comfortable and started to do his workout.

The chest press was a machine which was especially made to train his pectoral muscles, therefore he felt how hard they had to work, in order to stem the weight. Loki sincerely hoped that the twitch of his pecs didn't wake up Narfi again, since the infant had rested his head against them - or even worse... That he would wake up Narfi with the soft groans and grunts which left his lips. Luckily, though, Narfi kept on napping; curled up in the baby carrier and against his dad's upper body.

It turned out that Loki's plan of combining the gym and looking after his son was working quite well. So far, it had only benefits - and since Narfi was some extra weight he carried, the workout was even better. And so, Loki went from one gym machine to the next; deciding to make a long gym session today.

At some point, he was left alone in the big room. Even Peter bid his goodbye some time.

You tried to gently kick the main door shut with your foot; balancing the keys and the few groceries you got in your hands and arms. Somehow switching on the light and manoeuvring the key into the little bowl on the shelf beside the door, you slipped out of your shoes and made your way into the kitchen.

"Babe?" You whisper-yelled; not knowing if the newest addition to the family was asleep or not.

You received no answer.

"Babe?!"

And again; no response. Frowning you put the groceries down on the kitchen counter.

Just as you wanted to start searching for your husband and baby, you found the little note Loki had left you.

'Dear darling,

if you are looking for your men, you are going to find them in the gym. ;)'

You raised an eyebrow, "The gym?" but smiled. Of course, you decided to visit them, but first the groceries had to be taken care of. But after that was done, you made your way to the gym, which was just a few floors away - totally unprepared in what you walked into...

Barely after stepping through the doors, you could already hear your husband. Deep breaths and some grunts and groans were urging to your ears and sending a tingle down your spine. And as if the sounds weren't already sinful enough, no you also had to walk in on Loki doing sinful things - at least for your eyes...

He was at the pull-up bar, doing pull-ups. Nothing abnormal or unusual - but it was his look that almost brought you to your knees.

Loki was sweaty; telling you that he must've been here already quite a while - and him training was already hot itself. You could see the sweat glistening on his bare upper arms. A few droplets were running down the back of his neck, causing a few loose raven strands - which had escaped his manbun, to stick to the skin there.

The pull-ups he did made the strong muscles in his upper back and especially shoulder blades twitch and flex - and due to the fact that your god wore a sleeveless compression t-shirt, you saw everything. Every bulge, curve and dip.

That, combined with the unholy sounds he made and Narfi being strapped to his chest almost send you into the stratosphere. It was simply too hot too handle. Loki was too hot too handle. Your brain and the still slightly crazy hormones coursing through your system conjured a dangerous cocktail of emotions within your body. You wanted to scream and howl; right before jumping Loki like a feral woman. And on the other hand you felt your ovaries exploding with all the cuteness and love. Men and babies.

You were positively a mess.

Not being able to function properly, you just salivated and stared at your husband, without even recognising it.

Only a dark chuckle, followed by a smooth velvet voice was able to rip you out of your trance.

"You should take a picture, darling. I heard it lasts longer."

You blinked; tried to focus again, and noticed that Loki was standing now suddenly in front of you - a sight which wasn't any less sexy. "O-Oh, um, h-hi babe," you said happily; somehow trying to save the awkward situation.

Loki only chuckled further and placed a big, strong, veiny hand on Narfi's small back (almost swallowing it whole); caressing it gently to keep him asleep. That didn't help your situation at all. Especially since it was the hand on which ring finger his wedding band was, reminding you that Loki was your man. Surreal sometimes.

You swallowed hard; eyes fixated on his hand. Why was it so hot in here all of a sudden?

"Hello, my love," he said with a small chuckle. "Is everything alright? You look a bit flustered." Cheeky, little shit. He knew exactly what was going on. "S-Sure, it's just-" Loki shifted; adjusted the baby carrier and his gym shorts; letting the waistband snap deliciously against his sweaty skin. "Babe, would you please stop that!" You whisper-yelled out of sheer desperation. You couldn't take much more. You were sure of it.

Loki just smiled mischievously. "Stop what, my queen?"

Ugh... "You know exactly what I mean, Mister! Stop being so... so illegally hot and sexy! You can't just do pull-ups in front of me, being all sweaty and having our baby strapped to your chest!" Loki’s smile even widened, before he stepped dangerously slow closer to you - until he was able to place his free hand on your hip. The other hand has wandered up and was now supporting Narfi's small head. A mix of sweat and the remains of Loki's cologne hit your nostrils - and you had to fight hard to not shamelessly moan.

"And why is that?" He practically growled; giving you a smouldering look and softly squeezing your hip.

You whined. "Because I squeezed this-" You gestured at Narfi. "Huge tiny Frost Giant out of my body only a few months ago and therefore not should be thinking about sex yet!" It was frustrating.

The god's eyes widened softly at the sudden realisation and the meaning behind your words. It caused his demeanour to shift within milliseconds. The mischievous smile melted into a compassionate, almost sorrowful look and his hand slipped up from your hip to curl around your waist, his other hand following instantly; thumbs starting to caress your clothed skin softly. "Apologies, my love. I-I didn't think of that. I should've known and stop. I am so sorry." You shook your head; a loving smile spreading on your lips.

Isn't he just perfect?

"Don't be, baby. It's okay. My hormones are still a bit delulu, you know... It's not your fault that my body reacts like a horn dog." Loki nodded; "Yes, but I shouldn't have made it worse..." and leaned forward to press a lingering kiss against your forehead.

"Forgive me?"

You smiled; wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You're already forgiven."

Barely after those words had left your lips, you pulled your husband into one sweet, loving kiss after the next - until a small whine, coming unmistakably from the small boy between you and Loki interrupted the little make out session.

You pulled your lips from Loki's with a soft pop and took a step back; eyes immediately landing on your son. He was awake now; still a bit sleepy ruby eyes trying to look at you and tiny white romper clad legs kicking the air - and their daddy.

"Hiii, baby!" You cooed; leaning down to be on eye-level with Narfi, so that you could smooch the soft, chubby cerulean skin of his cheeks. It caused him to screech and squeal happily. "Did you have a great time with daddy at the gym? Yes? Were you a good little prince and slept for another while?"

Loki smiled, watching his wife and son. "Positive, love. I enjoyed today's gym session and the little man enjoyed being carried around the whole time. It was a win-win situation, honestly. And after a while, he slept in."

You looked up at the god; smiling. "A perfect solution then." Loki nodded; placing a kiss on the infant's fuzz covered head.

"He should be hungry soon, right? When did you lastly feed him a bottle?" You asked; tracing your thumb over the ridges and marks on your son's tiny hand. "About three hours ago, so... Yes." "Alright. Time to eat then, I'd say. Shall I take Narfi with me, so that you can spent some more time training?" Your husband shook his head, "No, my love, but thank you. I've trained enough for today. I'll join you." grabbed his towel and empty water bottle and reached for your hand; his fingers slipping through yours. "Let's go." You smiled at Loki; squeezing your intertwined hands. "Alright."

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