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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s): hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars, inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing, just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

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ppersonna · 3 years

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out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults.

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow.

“What’s got you so perky this morning?”

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead.

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness.

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts.

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag.

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams.

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer.

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words.

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists.

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares.

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer.

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces.

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”.

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?”

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches.

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic.

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help.

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?”

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply.

“Yes, I would l-love that.”

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away.

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey!

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp.

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?”

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes.

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.”

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off.

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer

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bukojuiice · 3 years

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the way of the househusband — levi ackerman

ೃ pairing: (husband! levi ackerman x ceo wifey! reader)

ೃ There is the “ideal” nuclear family. The one composed of a working husband with a well-paying 9 to 5 job, loving housewife who cooks and cleans, and adoring children who do well in school. However, that idealization is looong gone. What about you and your family? You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up Company who ain’t no trophy wife, Your husband hails from the last line of Ackermans and who temporarily resigns from being a vice executive of your company (just because he doesn’t want to work with young, feeling philanthropist, and genius GenZers) to become a hands-on househusband, and then there’s your little daughter who has the most inquisitive mind and adventurous heart who idolizes her doting father in every shape, way, and form. A month’s absence in your home (due to a business trip) could lead to many many things. But, your husband randomly publishing a self-help book on parenting and being a househusband is not one of those things.

ೃ genre and warnings: modern au, domestic fluff, baby au, husband au,

ೃ my nav → my aot masterlist

ೃ 4k words

ೃ Will be referring to hanji as “aunkling” (a cute nickname that some kiddos use to refer to their non-binary relatives <3) because there are no official non-binary terms for aunt and uncle! + your daughter with levi is named amelia and she is just the most precious cinnamon roll

It’s done.

The Business Trip is finally over.

A long and painful month of no hugs and playdates with your little princess, Amelia and no time to be pampered with love and affection from your husband, Levi was finally over!

Sometimes, you wonder how you were even able to survive these long-ass trips and conferences. Sure, these month-long trips only happened once a year, but the thought of Amelia getting older and having to miss a day of seeing her grow up and discover the world, really hurt you as all mothers would. Video Calls were enough to satisfy you and give you happy hormones even for just a short while, but still- the longer you’re not with them, the more the yearning lengthens until you’re just riddled with endless thoughts of wanting to get home as soon as possible.

First, let’s set things straight: You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up company who was born into a middle-class family and rose her way up to success. It’s as cliche as it gets but hey! Living a life as if you were in a romantic comedy was the best compliment you’ve ever gotten.

Along with that, as far as rich families in rom-coms and coming of age movies go, are they all dysfunctional in reality? Not really. Or at least you and Levi promised each other not to end up like that. The Rich Girl meets Poor Boy (with a tragic backstory) cliche however? Yea, that’s a pretty accurate way to describe your love story. Meeting the love of your life in a Coffee Shop is actually pretty common and happens to a lot of people apparently. When Erwin Smith, Levi’s best friend (who is too smart and self-aware to fit the role of a rom-com sidekick by the way) approaches your table to ask if he and Levi could sit with you. (Because of all the days the cafe would be packed, it would be that day.) You said yes of course, and Erwin began oversharing details about the raven-haired man and you were all too invested in learning more about him anyway. Levi grew up in the orphanage after his mother had died and his father was the biggest asshole on the planet for never showing his face, he had to fend for himself after he outgrew the foster system. Starting out as an espionage in an illegal underground gambling empire to a bookkeeper at the Smiths’ bookshop. (Although this is a story for another day)

Internally swooning over his pretty eyes and resting bitch face...it didn’t take long until the two of you fell in love and... the rest was history!

You come home to your lavish yet homey apartment in 21 West End Avenue Manhattan to be surprised by your father-daughter duo absolutely knocked out on the couch. Amelia was snuggled up to her father, her feet on his lap and a sleeping position you could not possibly comprehend, a Disney movie playing in the background, and both of them were wearing matching Minion onesies whilst yours was folded neatly on the coffee table just waiting to be worn by you when you got home.

It was a rare sight to see and you can’t help but just stare lovingly at the wonderful scene before you. Not only was it rare to see Amelia asleep before seeing you (or in the case of your business trips, during your daily video calls with them) but it was also rare to see your husband sleeping so soundly and his insomnia not kicking in.

Amelia hears your footsteps, her eyes are still shut as she tries to predict what you will do next. She finally assesses when she will make her move and surprise you when you place another fleece blanket on top of them and plant a kiss on both of their temples. your daughter’s eyes suddenly flutter open. Her eyes beaming and glowing off the same light that twinkled in her father’s as she jumps off the couch, making sure not to wake up Levi.

“MOMMY!” She screams in the most quiet volume her cute voice could muster. She runs up to you and envelops you in a tight hug, jumping up and down as she does so. “I missed you Mommy! I missed you soooo much! How was sandbox in K-korea!? Was there a lot of sand!? Did you have a lot of pwaymates there!?”

You giggle at your daughter’s enthusiasm, combing your fingers through her hair. “Lili, Sandbox is like the Silicon Valley of Korea. It isn’t necessarily a sandbox like in a playground, baby.”

“OOOH! JUST LIKE SIWICON VAWWEY!” She chirps, tightening her hug and reaching for your hand and squeezing it. “AH WAIT!” She gently pushes you away and makes a beeline to her room. “ME AND DADDY HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU! BUT CLOSE YOUR EYES FIRST OWKAAY?!” She calls out from her room and you shout back a “yes!” to her in between your giggles, unable to contain the sudden rush of serotonin your daughter had given you from her simple yet adorable antics.

Another trope that you can debunk is that rich moms can be a hands-on parent too! After your maternity leave ended and when Amelia had finally reached her toddler years, you absolutely made sure that you were going to take care of her every second, minute, hour and day of your life. As soon as she turned two, she became the inquisitive, smart and ever so curious little girl you and Levi had always hoped for. She had your (h/c) hair and Levi’s icy yet warm and loving milky grey eyes. If the color of Levi’s reminded you of dark and stormy clouds, Amelia’s was gleaming. Like that of the clouds after a terrible storm. She was an absolute blessing and although you weren’t a perfect mother, (spoiling her more than you should) Levi was an amazing father. Growing up without parents was tough for him and he was going to make sure that Amelia is going to have an amazing childhood and be surrounded by the love of two parents that he never had and never got to experience.

You always and will forever have trust in Levi. There has never been a day where you doubted him. Despite the impressions and assumptions that people have of him. How he was cold, scary, and even calculating. But, you are always quick to shut down those rumors. They don’t know the Levi Ackerman behind the cold and mighty front he shows. He is a man who has gone through so much and yet has so much love and care to give. How he notices and remembers the littlest details, how he never takes anything for granted and how he loves and cherishes everything so wholeheartedly.

When Amelia turned six, you sadly had to go back to work formally. Right timing too because your genius (with very himbo tendencies) younger cousin, Eren, was about to be part of your start-up company and he had a lot of amazing plans that had to come into fruition. Even bringing in a group of his own friends (who all graduated in MIT by the way!) who are willing to contribute so many amazing ideas and hackathons that were just waiting to happen.

The entrance of these youthful and hopeful genius entrepreneurs also brought about the temporary exit of your very own husband from your very own company. Apparently, working with newly graduated Gen Zers (as a millennial) was too much for him. They were nice and they were going to be a very integral part of the company. But, the boomer inside Levi can’t just can’t keep up with this sudden surge of energy and youthfulness within the higher-ups. It was also a great opportunity for him to take care of Amelia even more. So, you didn’t stop him from doing so!

It’s been a year since he temporarily resigned and became an official-unofficial househusband. Or as your best friend Hanji likes to put it, You are the Girl Boss and he is the Male Wife. Amelia is now 7 years old and she’s currently taking Ballet classes (Levi picks her up during the weekdays, and the both of you pick her up on the weekends) and has developed a hyperfixation over Sanrio Characters and the Disney movie, Frozen. She was growing up to be a wonderful girl and you just can’t wait to hear what she and Levi had done during your absence.

She skips her way back to you, a book tightly clutched in her hands. “SURPRISE!” Amelia gingerly places a book on your hand. You open your eyes and tilt your head in question at the piece of literature she had just given you as you read the title aloud. “The Way of the House Husband… written by Levi Ackerman.” Your eyes shift to a little circle on the lower side of the cover, “The husband of (Y/N) Ackerman, the CEO of Survey Corp Tech…!?”

“Daddy and I made a book while you were away!” She claps her hands together and grabs the book back from you, turning it to the first page. “See there’s even a dedication! To (Y/N) and Amelia! The two brightest stars in my galaxy!”

“Oh that’s too cheesy. No way would your dad write something like this out of the blue, Lili.” You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. Your daughter looks at you with downcast eyes while you were still trying to process that your husband literally just wrote a whole-ass book while you were away. “Who helped publish this so quickly, Amelia?”

“Uncle Erwin of course!” She’s frowning for one second and now she’s beaming at you again. “Please please read it mommy! Me and daddy worked really really hard on it!” She taps the hardbound cover of the book in rhythms. “This is the Amelia Edition! Daddy said he cut out some stuff so that it would be okay for me to read and for me to give to you once you get home! It’s my come back home gift for you mommy!” She moves the book to your lap and hops up next to you on the loveseat that you were sitting on. Before you know it, Amelia is resting her head on your shoulder and coaxing you to start reading to her like it was a bedtime story.

You clear your throat and hold her by the waist so that she can feel more secure in her seat. “Okay… okay… let’s begin shall we? In a kingdom far far away…”

“That’s not how the book is like mommy! Read it properly like the way daddy did!”

“I was just joking, honey. Let’s get started. Rule #1 of the House Husband is…”

Rule #1: Fathers, be good to your children. You are the weight of their world.

“One thing I learned as soon as I was at home practically 24/7 is that your child will be more cautious and weary of you. They will observe you because they look up to you. They will watch your every move, follow you around, and will imitate whatever you say and whatever they hear from you. Talk to them, teach them things they need to know, support them in their hobbies, interests, and even if you have to be the extra princess in her tea party, do it. The thing is, you will leave an eternal mark on the hearts of your children.”

Amelia got even more closer to Levi when he was finally stationed at home. Always grinning from ear to ear and boasting to her classmates how cool her dad was whenever he would pick her up from school. She was proud to tell them Levi’s heritage even if Amelia never got to meet her Grandma Ackerman and Grandpa Ackerman. When Levi would take her out for errands, may they be groceries, cleaning the house, baking, cooking, laundry, or just going on his morning jog, Amelia would be there to accompany him. In fact, she’s gone shopping with Levi so many times that she has memorized the brand names of cleaning detergent and bleach before she could even memorize the multiplication table.

She’s even caught up with her father’s cynical sense of humor. And because of that, Levi had to tone down on his sardonic jokes around the little girl. Levi wasn’t necessarily physically affectionate but he does soften around Amelia as the little girl never fails to supply him with endless hugs and kisses on the cheek. She may be both a Mommy’s and Daddy’s girl, but the way she looks up to Levi is the kind of father-daughter bond that you hardly see in real life. She aspires to be like him. Even if there were times where she would be scolded by you both, (most especially Levi) she never took that against you. She sees all the good and positive sides of your husband that others outside of your circle fail to see.

Rule #2: Let your children know that they have other “guardian angels” who they can rely on aside from their parents.

“My daughter has both my wife and I’s best friends to learn from or to look up to. Her kooky aunkling and her blunt uncle have become one of the most precious people in her life. Even the young ins working at Survey Corp Tech have become older siblings to her and get along with her so well. Remember that there will always be close relatives or friends who can and will help them when they lose their way. Let them spread sunshine and love to others.”

Whether it’s a regular trip to Coney Island or your monthly trips to Disneyland, Hanji or Erwin would totally tag along. Amelia absolutely loves and vibes with Hanji’s quirkiness so well. They would wear matching Mickey Mouse ears, ride the kiddie roller coaster that Amelia wanted to ride on a million times per visit, buy her all the ice cream and treats she wants (despite Levi’s warnings and the reprimanding that Hanji has to suffer from the both of you right after.) They just want Amelia to experience all the fun, the joy, and innocence of living in the moment. As a kid, it’s better if she sees how precious life is, how she should cherish it and that she doesn’t have to grow up so fast just yet.

Erwin on the other hand, brought out Amelia’s intellectual side more. As soon as a new and critically acclaimed children’s book hit the shelves, you bet Amelia has a copy right away. Whenever Levi would take her to Erwin’s bookstore, she wanders around like it’s this huge mysterious archive that can only be accessed by her. The Adults section is forbidden, so were the cheap romance novels in the back, and the books written by youtubers. God forbid she read those. When her Uncle Erwin got her into reading Roald Dahl’s children’s books, you had to watch Amelia run around the penthouse with a little red ribbon tied on top of her hair, wanting to be referred to as Matilda, along with you and Levi having to pretend that she had telekinetic powers for 6 months straight. It was her cutest phase yet and you just know there were many more to come.

There were also Eren and his friends who loved Amelia dearly whenever she came over to visit. Your little cousin refused to be called Uncle Eren and instead wanted to be called big bro, and in which Amelia happily complied. Whenever it was Amelia’s weekly “Visit Mommy at Work” day, she had her own room in your office where Eren and your other young associates would babysit her. In fact, they would actually take turns in babysitting at your condo whenever you and Levi went out for date night. Amelia was introduced to playing video games like Animal Crossing and Pokemon solely because of them (more specifically because of big bro Jean, big sis Sasha, and big bro connie.) They even ended up influencing her to watch anime when her big brother “Minmin” and big sis “Mimi” accidentally left the TV on and Amelia literally binge-watched half of the existing Studio Ghibli movies to this date.

Rule #3: Your children will think that you are Superman or Iron Man. Make sure to act like them and never let them down by ruining their innocence and imagination.”

(A little note was attached to this page: Please don’t let Amelia read this. Read her a fairy tale instead while skimming through this.)

“It all started when my daughter found an entire encyclopedia on ancient and legendary family clans around the world. The Ackerman clan was on the very first page after the intro and she read through all 50 pages of it. The look of awe on her face when she read that her dad’s ancestors exhibit physical abilities much higher than the average human. In a 7 year old’s mind and vocabulary, that automatically translates to a superhero akin to that of Superman.

Ever since then, My daughter has forced me to become more creative with doing very mundane tasks and chores. I pretend to have superpowers. Such as teleporting around the house whilst cleaning. I tell her to close her eyes or else my teleportation powers won’t work. Then when I cook in the kitchen and she watches me intently, I tell her that the salt and pepper have magical properties that only I can touch and hold because to her, at that moment, I was “Doctor Stwange.”

and one time, when I picked her up from school, she was babbling on about how she told her friends and playmates that she had two superhero parents she was very proud of. Then one of the other kids asked if I was a strong soldier who killed huge humanoid monsters using sharp blades. To which I replied that could have possibly happened in a different universe. Her hearty laughs and giggles whenever she sees me using my superpowers makes me anxious over the fact I have to tell her someday that my powers never existed.”

Whilst you were on your monthly trip, you and Levi would have private video calls whenever Amelia was finally put to bed. There, he told you about what happened in Amelia’s ballet classes that week and how the single mothers were more persistent than usual.

They could clearly see that Levi was not interested but apparently the fact that your husband waving his ring finger every single time someone approached him wasn’t obvious enough, apparently the fact that he was married made the risk even more worth it to these prying moms who had nothing better to do. It wasn’t until Amelia had enough and respectfully called them out by saying that his dad was married and he was never going to be interested in Karens (a slang word that she learned from Eren and friends) Since then, the invasion of parent to parent boundaries had finally stopped. Levi was very relieved and at ease whilst telling you the story yet you were laughing your heart out at the ingenious remarks of your very own daughter on top of the irresistible charm and looks of your own husband that made single mothers be damned.

Rule #4: The most important rule of all: Love your spouse as you want your children to be loved in the future.

“Since my wife is on a business trip right now as I type this and she may or may not know that I had written this book for her to read when she comes home, my daughter came up to me a few days ago and told me how she missed her mom so much. The video calls we had every night were not enough to satisfy her for the remaining days her mother would be gone. She then proceeds to tell me that she loves the way I love (Y/N). My daughter loved how patient I was and how I supported her through every endeavor that her mother had ever thought up with that brilliant mind of hers. She mentioned how I was there for her through every success and failure, through hardships, difficulties and misunderstandings. My daughter was happy because I stuck with her mother through everything. All the pain, suffering, conflicts that we both experienced individually and as husband and wife. Little ears and little eyes are watching and observing the actions and sweet gestures of their parents. Make sure to remember that.”

“What is gravy (grief) if not love persevewing?” (persevering) My daughter had even recounted a quote from the Disney Marvel show, WandaVision just to prove a point to me. That was when I realized something and decided to list down a few things:

1. The best lovers are the best of friends.

Levi’s relationship with you was rocky at first simply because the two of you didn’t have a lot in common. Your personalities clashed and the two of you could barely make things work in the beginning. He was always well-dressed, on time, and was very prim and proper. However, Levi was cold, strict, and unapproachable. You on the other-hand were quite the opposite. You used to arrive late, didn’t care too much about your style as long as you wore the appropriate outfit, but you were carefree, laidback and friendly. Having to set aside your differences was a process that required sacrifice, time, and effort. It took long and a lot of petty arguments before the two of you fully understood each other, accepted each other's faults and quirks, and became even closer. Both as friends and lovers. You and Levi treat each other not as just the “person I love and I’m married to for the rest of my life”, but also as a best friend for life. Soulmates

2. Their dreams are just as important as yours.

Levi’s dream was to open up a tea shop and start a family with you. That was all he ever wanted. The blissful simplicity of his in comparison to your techy and out of this world ambitions, goes to show how much they weigh as aspirations and wants in life. You have to value your significant other’s dreams and ambitions just as much as you highly value yours. No matter how hard or how simple they are, the both of you can achieve it with the help of each other. The only thing left in your agenda was to open up his long-awaited Tea Shop. You were about to surprise him with the plans of opening one up on the day of his birthday, and you just can’t wait for that day to finally come.

3. You have to let them be free.

Levi absolutely knew what he was getting into when he met you. It was love at first sight when he met you, He drunkenly admitted that one time when he’s had too much champagne on your friday date night. He knew that you were an adventurer. A wandering soul who had a goal and a purpose set in stone. He always knew you were going to reach greater heights and he knew that you would never leave him behind and would always have him go on a ride. He’s always known about your capabilities and your potential and he didn’t want you to stray away from that. And, if the time were to come that you had to leave him behind to soar greater heights, he’d understand that. He’d always let you be free and make sure you don’t fly too close to the sun. That was just how selfless Levi is. The thing is, he knows you would do the same for him. It was a perfect balance.

4. It is an honor to love and to be loved by them.

To be wrapped in the arms of someone who feels like home or has become the definition of home, To be stargazing with on a chilly summer night in where you talk about your future and your plans, To be sharing a cup of coffee or tea with in the morning and begrudgingly dancing with you against his will, To be watching your child playing in her room and do nothing but look adoringly at the most precious soul to have ever been produced by your encompassing love, and to be spending the rest of your life with someone who has done nothing but be with you through every pivotal moment in your life was such an honor.

It is an honor to be loved by Levi, as he is honored to be loved by you.

“...The end.” You close the book with a deep but contented sigh. Tears were welling up in your eyes and you’re trying your best not to break down in front of Amelia.

“Mommy… are you crying?” She tilts her head in inquiry. “Is it because you’re tired from work?”

“No. baby. These are happy tears, Lili. Don’t worry.”

Before you could speak up once more, you notice Levi had slowly sprung up from the couch, and began to stretch his arms. His eyes widen when he sees you from the opposite couch. “(Y/N)... you were supposed to arrive at 6 AM right? Amelia and I were supposed to pick you-”

Amelia opens her mouth to speak as she jumps down from the couch and crawls up to sit next to Levi. “Daddy! I showed Mommy the book you wrote! She loved it! Right, Mommy?”

“You did?” Your husband perks up from his seat, clearing his throat. “T-that’s not the entire book yet by the way. We had to give back the original copies to Erwin for reprinting. The self-help book is currently rising up the charts to be a New York Times Best Seller.”

Before Levi could properly react, you move to the free space on the couch next to him. Holding his hand and gazing into his forlorn yet loving eyes, you muttered. “Love, that’s amazing. I’m really really proud of you. Next time though, please do tell me that you’ve written a self-help book and dethroned all those mommy authors from the bestselling charts.”

Levi stifles a laugh, stroking your thumb and bringing you and Amelia closer to him for warmth. “I will. I will.”

Amelia looks up at the two of you, squeezing out of the sandwich, so that you and Levi can have your quality time with each other. “Goodnight Mom! Goodnight Dad!” She approaches the two of you so that she can be given her nightly kiss on the cheek as she retreats to her room.

“What if I write a novel too?” You joke, snuggling up to Levi, your husband wrapping his arm around you. “The title could be… The way of the Wife boss?”

“That could be a good sequel. A shared book universe. Then, Amelia could continue the collection when we’re old and sour as hell.” Levi mused.

“Pfft. I guess only time will tell. I love you Levi.”

“I love you too (Y/N).”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk fluff #aot fluff #attack on titan fluff #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman

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daiseukiis · 3 years

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: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒

𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 ; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤

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─꒱ in which we peak into how life is as the in-law of the fushiguro family after marrying megumi。

─꒱ feat. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji & fushiguro tsumiki

─꒱ warnings ; profanity, chaotic hot shit

─꒱ notes ; OMG SHOULD I MAKE A SPECIAL WHERE YOU GUYS SEND IN ASKS ABOUT HOW THE NEIGHBOURS REACT TO THE FUSHIGUROS EYVBIJX HAHAHA

─꒱ episode one | 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒 | episode three

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꒰꒰ you love your father-in-law, like you really do love toji, but that worm of his needs to be in a fucking cage.

a loud scream comes from the top of your lungs early in the morning, eyelashes blinking to shoo the drowsiness away after it's been awakened by the warm sun rays that lay atop your eyelids. as much as you love waking up in the morning in bed with your husband, you don't get that luxury sometimes.

"y/n?!" hearing the loud footsteps of your husband rushing towards with another scream from your sister-in-law, the both of them slam the door wide open. "what happened?!" toji is the last to appear to the scene, his expression more on the sight of confusion compared to the worried and panicked facials on megumi and tsumiki's face. "what the fuck?"

"get this fucking worm off me!"

꒰꒰ if that worm wasn't adopted by toji it would've been on fucking sight. that shit uglier then sukuna's stock of human girls for his bitch soup.

꒰꒰ after you told megumi what toji had told you when you were left alone with him ( the sex question ), you are no longer allowed to be alone at home with him. megumi made sure that the dogs are around.

꒰꒰ you found out the hard way that toji has some lameass dad jokes.

you and tsumiki decided to order sushi for dinner due to the fact the both of you were too lazy to cook, seeing how you and megumi came back tired from a mission and toji from one as well, you all felt bad having tsumiki cook all on her own so you bought food instead.

"i'd avoid sushi if i were you, it seems fishy." toji says just as you all prepared the table to eat. you and megumi freeze on the spot, the trio of you all turning your heads towards toji who sports a serious face. megumi groans, "don't ever do that again."

"i thought it was pretty good." tsumiki lets out a small giggle, you smiling that toji was now comfortable to even make jokes after everything. megumi turns to counter his sister's opnion, through you all swore you heard a stifled chuckle come from toji.

'he's laughing at his own jokes!'

꒰꒰ the effort is appreciated though.

꒰꒰ sometimes you and tsumiki buy too many stuff at the groceries, you call megumi to summon nue and get his shikigami to carry it for you two.

꒰꒰ toji offered ( jokingly ) to let you guys use his worm as a storage while you went shopping for groceries once, let's just say he got smacked in the face with a pan.

꒰꒰ it's his fault for joking while you were cooking.

꒰꒰ you were used to waking up three in the morning for anything and seeing your husband and father-in-law tying some burglar or assassin up, but no way were the rest of the family used to you doing the work.

"y/n?" megumi comes walking down the stairs with his father, turning on the lights in the dark hour to gain a shred of shine. the two males see in full picture that you had just finished punching someone in the face, the other hand holding them up by the collar as it physically shows that whoever this guy dressed in black had just failed in whatever mission he had in mind.

"who's that?" toji raises a brow, more so on the fact that he is impressed you beat up the intruder without a single sound in the dead of night. the look of displeasure shows you were in no mood, wanting nothing more than what you had walked downstairs for before this piece of shit decided to ruin your night. you throw the man in black on to the floor, scowling.

"all i wanted was a glass of fucking water, not an assassin who can't even use the front door."

꒰꒰ when you and tsumiki make food in the kitchen, expect a knife to go flying at least once.

꒰꒰ you don't know if you should be thankful to have tsumiki as your sister or not, she's unintentionally scary and she's not even trying.

꒰꒰ somehow you always end up walking into an argument between megumi and toji ( usually after leaving the kitchen to get a snack ) but you instantly walk out because the last time you didn't, shit was ugly.

"hey... can we all just calm down?" tsumiki is in between toji and megumi who are constantly throwing insults and such at each other, whatever argument they were having she tries to settle it down without anyone getting injured.

"i can't when this pathetic excuse of a father can't grow the fuck up!" megumi bellows, glaring at the older man who lets out a tsk and a frown. "watch what you're saying, i'll hand down an ass whoopin' on ya."

'this seems interesting.' you sip on your boba after walking out from the kitchen, the bowl of popcorn just beside you as you ate and speculated. it was normal for the father-son duo to have their fights, usually it was fun to watch because it ended up as good entertainment for you. so in result: you have no intention in stopping them.

"no, guys, seriously..." tsumiki pleads, her hands slightly apart to try and force space between them. though her efforts were thrown out the window when in complete sync did they yell right back at tsumiki. "just mind your own business!"

'they punched her!' the boba fell from your hands and the popcorn flew, much like how tsumiki started to fall back towards the couch. it took less than a millisecond for the two to realize what the did, and they knew they were fucked.

꒰꒰ sometimes you still have nightmares about it.

꒰꒰ there are times that toji would be coming home with a woman tailing behind him, and it's somehow always when megumi and tsumiki are out.

"tadamasu." toji greets as he walks in, talking his footwear off and leaving it in front of the door. you pop your head out from the living room into the hallway of the entrance as you greet him on his return, "hokairi."

"who's the bitch?" you notice a woman who had too much make up to show her curstyass in front of you, a click of your tongue echoes through the two meter distance between you and her as you cross your arms. "who's the slut?"

"youー!" her face twists in fury, heels about to click and clack each step to get to you but is instantly stopped by the sound of toji's deep voice. "get out." the girl looks baffled by his words, face contouring into a smile full on uneasiness. "but tojiー"

"i said get out." his voice is much more prominent and demanding, sending chills down her spine as she steps back in caution. you stand here watching as the woman still refused to leave your home, in seconds did toji grab hold of her wrist and threw her out of the house ( much to the woman's displeasure ). you grin from ear to ear, running out to see her limping her way back to her rented car right beside toji. you call her out, the glare she sends your way is priceless as you stand beside your father-in-law with all the glory in the world.

"by the way, i'm his amazing daughter-in-law! and we have decided that a clown lookin' ass like you doesn't deserve the right to fuck a fushiguro!" you wink.

"yeah, yeah. get back inside, y/n. megumi 'n tsumiki 'ill be back home, don't want them nagging that our y/n got into some cat fight again." you hear toji from inside the house, walking away from your figure. you pout your cheeks out, "it's not a cat fight, it's my bad bitch moves!"

"i'll lock you out."

"this is my house!"

꒰꒰ you stopped questioning megumi and toji's cooking skills because the last time you and tsumiki let them cook dinner, they didn't just burn the eggs they were making but also trashed half the kitchen.

꒰꒰ they made an oil fire that time, and no one knows how but toji was able to get the zenin clan to pay for repairs???

꒰꒰ and apparently for the past five months the zenin clan have been paying for repairs and they didn't even know toji was using their money, well until naobito found out and busted your front door on a weekend.

"toji!" you heard the current head of the zenin's clan voice boom through your house, you also watched the white front door fly through the hallway right before your eyes after you have just watered your little cactuses. in seconds you hear the lazy voice of your father-in-law, emerging from the kitchen with a confused tsumiki. "what do you want."

"how dare you use the zenin clan's money on your mistakes!" naobito starts striding towards toji in anger, your eyes glancing over at your now open door to see naoya waving to you. you lift your waterer up in acknowledgment of his existence before snapping at naobito.

"how about your mistake?" you watch naobito grip on to the collar of toji's shirt, the look of fury engraved on his old face as he glares your way. "what?" he says, dropping toji as he complains about

"you broke my fucking door, you wrinkly ass, dusty, decaying ancient artifact. we just installed that three days ago! the zenin clan better keep paying."

꒰꒰ that door never seems to get a break

꒰꒰ the real reason why you and megumi never moved out of the house is because when you two tried, tsumiki and toji invited themselves into your house and said they were living there.

꒰꒰ your father-in-law makes hundreds of millions of yen, you'd think he'd live on his own but instead he lives with his kids.

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eightyonekilograms · 2 years

Text

You may have heard this from a couple different directions already (I saw one review saying as much, and the person whose recommendation to @etirabys made us go watch it said the same), but Everything Everywhere All At Once is phenomenal, go see it as soon as you can and as unspoiled as you can. This is one of those films that restores my faith in movies, after so much jaded cynicism at the hacky, predictable scripts. where a director and screenwriter just go "fuck it", take a great high concept, and go as far with it as they can. It's both really funny and very moving, the acting is rock-solid, and there were multiple points where I was thinking "wow, I genuinely don't know what the next scene is going to be", which is a rare and delightful thing.

Quasi-spoilers elaborating on my positive feelings below the cut. They don't really spoil the movie but possibly wait until after you've seen it to read them to keep the surprise.

There was a review of a Rick and Morty episode a while back that mentioned how wonderful it is that audiences now have concepts like multiverses just built-in as part of their cultural vocabulary. The first movie/book to have a multiverse must have had to spend a bunch of time explaining it to the baffled audience; now they can just go "oh yeah, the multiverse is real", and everyone basically knows what means, and so you can jump right into pushing the concept as far as it can go.

It's trendy lately to make the villain of your movie into a nihilist and have the conflict thus be a struggle against nihilism. This is almost always done terribly. EEAaO is one of the rare times when it isn't: the villain makes sense, their motivation makes sense (as in, 'yeah, I'd be like that too if I was in your place'), but the struggle against them makes sense too.

Along those lines, I don't know if the film is completely airtight as philosophy - when you make genuine existential despair the bad guy, any comeback that has to fit in the space of a 2.5-hour movie will have to be a little hokey, but it works well enough, and I'll take a movie that swings for the fences any day instead of the stale, warmed-over pablum we usually get when movies try to have philosophy in them.

Again, the acting is great. Michelle Yeoh is awesome, but of course she is - it's Michelle Yeoh. But actually the knockout performance is that of her character's husband. He literally zaps back and forth between ass-kicking and being an adorable puppy softboi, and makes them both work. Every time he switched personalities I wanted him to go back to the other one! And he's apparently the kid from Indiana Jones?? Who has been out of the acting business for decades until just now??

Also again, it's really fucking funny in addition to the great drama? The gags they get out of the multiverse brain-switching concept are great, and a few of them even pay off with real touching moments later on in the film.

Eti says the movie hits harder if you have capital-A capital-P Asian Parents. Can't speak from direct experience, but I believe it.

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onionsaremeansstuff · 3 years

Text

You should have begged me to stay

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader

Gender: Angst & Fluff

Summary: Jensen is never home and you can’t stand this anymore

I dont own the character or the gif

Beta’d by @chaoticgaysstuff

Your relationship with your husband, Jensen was something.

You two have known each other since you were kids. He was pretty much your best friend. You two played together when you were kids and knew that you two would be close forever.

When you were 9 years old, you declared each other as boyfriends without really knowing what that meant because you both were two innocent children.

But as it turns out, you both were still boyfriends now that you weren't the innocent child you used to be.

As years passed, you both loved each other more than you did before. Hugs that you both gave each other when you were children turned into a pretty heated make out session that was behind closed doors.

When Jensen first told you how he wanted to become an actor, you supported him like you always did.

"I will never abandon you." Was what you had told him that night.

If only you knew everything that would happen with him becoming a world famous actor.

Hollywood wasn't the most acceptable place for LGBTQ people, so you both kept your relationship a secret, but there comes a price to pay when hiding something sometimes.

With each passing year, Jensen almost always became unavailable to you. You barely spent any time with him anymore.

Hell, you two only spent a minimum of two months together last year.

You were very frustrated, especially with that woman being Jensen's beard.

Now, you didn't have anything against her. You actually liked her, but she took a lot of time that you and Jensen were supposed to be spending together by pretending they were in a relationship.

And honestly, sometimes you felt that you weren't Jensen's true love.

---

Jensen would be back today from a trip and you were really excited. It has been so long since you've seen him. You couldn't wait to throw yourself in his huge arms along with having a night where you could talk about everything and nothing. Just like old times.

And as hours passed, Jensen still hasn't come home yet.

You've been sending him messages, but they were just left on delivered. He hasn't opened any of them and you were starting to get worried.

Was his flight delayed? Or did something come up? Was there an accident?

You paced back and forth, your mind consumed with worry.

---

When 3 AM came, the front door to the house opened and Jensen entered. You stood up from your spot on the couch, feeling fully awake and ran over to him. As you got closer to him, you immediately knew what he was doing.

Jensen stunk of alcohol and you noticed a purple mark on his neck.

What happened to you?" You asked, feigning Innocence.

"N- Nothing. I was at Jared's place and he had a party." He spoke, voice slightly slurred and you could tell that he was drunk.

"You know, a phone call or text message wouldn't kill you." You said and he snorted, walking straight to y'all room, completely ignoring you.

Jensen threw himself on the bed, falling asleep immediately before you could talk to him.

You sighed and went to sleep in the guest room. The smell of alcohol was essentially too much and you couldn't sleep next to him.

---

The next morning you prepared breakfast for you and your husband.

Although you were still a little hurt because of last night, you knew that it was because Jensen was drunk. So, you decided to make breakfast for him and actually talk to him.

When breakfast was ready, you went to wake him up as you grabbed some medicine for his hangover.

But, looks like he wouldn't need it after all, seeing how he wasn't in the room.

You searched every part of the house but there was no sign of him at all. You took out your phone to call him when a message popped up on his phone.

“D and I are going to breakfast and then will be spending time in the mountains. I'll be back next week.” ~Jensen.

As you read over that message, you let out a humorless laugh.

You barely spend any time with your husband and when he finally comes home, he decides to spend time with her. You cook nice and he's not here to even eat it.

And apparently he gave her a nickname, too.

You loved Jensen from the bottom of your heart, but you couldn't take this anymore. You couldn't take being the only one putting in any effort into this relationship, or if it could even be called that. You couldn't take being the one to text him first only to not receive a response. Couldn't stand being the person who waited for him to come home, only to never really come home.

You've had enough.

---

Jensen had texted you that he was coming home in an hour.

Your bags were packed with all of your clothes and stuff, and placed into your suitcase.

"This is for your own good, Y/N." You told yourself once again.

You glanced around your house one more time. So many memories have been here. Happy memories of you and him. They seem like distant memories now.

The door to the house opened and for the first time, you didn't meet him at the door like you'd usually do.

Jensen was surprised by this, having expected it. He walked over to you.

You didn't have the courage to end like this. Maybe he'll wake up and see what he has been putting you through.

"Hey, I'm gonna go to sleep. In a few hours I'm going to Vancouver."

You looked at him and managed to mask the hurt and anger that made it's way onto your face. Looks like he still hasn't realized.

You shook your head, "No your not. We're going to talk right now."

"Look Y/N I'm tired and-"

"You always seem to be tired when you're with me, right?" You interrupted him, standing up and looking at him in the eyes, "Always tired and can never have time with me. Can never stay with me."

Jensen looked at you confused, "What, Y/N? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about our relationship being one huge joke, Jensen." You stated.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, not understanding what you are trying to say.

"You're never at home, Jensen! I always have to be the one to try and make our relationship work and you seem to be looking for an excuse to get away from me. Hell, last year we barely spent two months together!" You snapped.

Jensen laughed sarcastically before looking at you angrily, "Well, I'm sorry that I have to work. I forgot how selfish you could be. I need time to myself. It's not easy working my ass off to give this life. This rich life." He growled.

"Oh, well I'm sorry that wanting to spend time with my husband is selfish. And do you really think I care about being rich? I loved you since you had to ask money to buy candy. I never cared about money. I always wanted you and you clearly can't see how unhappy I've been."

The eyes that once looked at you with love now looked at you with hatred.

Jensen didn't answer for a second, thinking as he looked down at the ground before snorting and looking at you, "If you are so unhappy then why don't you just leave."

You looked at him with sadness in your eyes.

That was it.

Jensen no longer cared about your relationship and he didn't even fight for you. Or even try to make things better between you both. He just gave up.

Just like that.

And you felt your heart break.

"If this is what you want. I'll leave." You stated, trying your best not to cry in front of him.

You left the room and went to get your bag and from the bedroom, you heard the sound of Jensen's car engine taking off down the road.

You sighed as you looked around this room looking one last time.

'Do it for your own good Y/N.' You thought as you walked out of the house.

---

Seven months have passed since your break up with Jensen and you hadn't been doing well.

Jensen was someone who was always there for you since you were a kid. Not talking to him was a completely strange and new sensation to you.

You couldn't help but think about him.

When you saw something funny or when you had a nightmare you would always call Jensen.

Sometimes, you'd have your phone in your hand with his contact information, ready to call him.

'Would he answer me?' You asked yourself.

You shook your head, "He doesn't care about you. Move on." You muttered.

Both of your lives went on without one another.

"You will survive Y/N." You told yourself, "You got this man."

---

You were sitting in the cafe that was across the street from your job. The place was pretty empty and you sat there in a booth with a cup of coffee, enjoying the peaceful silence.

The place was in complete silence, except for a small TV near your table which was playing something.

You weren't paying attention to it until you heard the name Jensen Ackles coming on the TV.

"The actor, Jensen ackles who is best known for his role as Dean Winchester on the TV show supernatural, posted a video saying that he and Danneel Harris have been in a fake relationship for years."

Your eyes widened, staring at the TV as you sipped on your coffee.

"Well, there is no reason for him to keep her as his beard anymore. He must have found someone he really loves now." You sighed in exasperation.

"The actor also stated that this fake relationship has cost him a lot, especially the relationship with the love of his life." The anchor said but you didn't care.

---

You arrived at your old house after a long and exhausting day of work.

After your parents died, you refused to sell your old house. Jensen always said that it didn't make sense since you lived with him. Nowadays, you are grateful for not selling it.

You threw yourself on the couch and fell asleep quickly.

---

You were woken up later by a knock on the door.

"Who the fuck could be at the door this late at night?" You pondered, getting up off the couch and walking over to the door.

You opened the door, not fully awake and your eyes only half open, "What?"

"Can I talk to you, Y/N?" The sound of Jensen's voice made your eyes open, feeling fully awake at the moment.

Jensen stood in front of the door, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You stared at him before slamming the door in his face.

"Y/N, please open the door!" Jensen pleaded and you didn't respond, "I'll climb into your window, or break your door down and you know I can." He threatened and you sighed, opening the door for him.

Jensen was wearing Dean Winchester's classic smile as he held the flowers out to you.

"A beautiful thing for a beautiful thing." You looked at the flowers before looking at him again as you gave him a look that said, 'Just get on with it already.'

"Teenage you would have loved the fact that I gave you flowers." Jensen said as you took the flowers out of his hand. He walked over to sit on the couch.

"Teenage me believed you cared about me." You spoke up, and placed the flowers on the counter and walked over to him. You stood with your arms crossed as you waited for him to speak.

Jensen opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

If you don't tell me what you came here to tell me, I'll call the cops." You said seriously.

"I'm sorry." Jensen spoke quickly and you waited for him to continue.

An awkward silence took over for a few seconds before Jensen coughed.

"If that's all you have to say, then you can get out of here." You exclaimed, turning away from him.

"Y/N I'm an idiot, okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah, you are."

"And I regret what happened that day. I should have asked you to say instead of telling you to leave."

"You should've but didn't. Close the door on the way out, will ya?"

"Y/N I-"

"Look Jensen, I don't know what game you are playing, or if your just desperate for sex. Or if the person you were staying with dumped you, but I will not continue to give my all to someone that isn't given back. You can leave."

"I'm not dating anyone Y/N, and I'm not here for sex." Jensen sighed, "I'm a complete idiot. I was so used to you being there that I was never aware of how much I needed you. "Jensen looked down at the ground as he spoke.

"Ever since you've been gone, I missed you like crazy and all I wanted was to hear the sound of your voice. I missed having you by my side."

"When we were together, you never slept at home and didn't even bother to call me, so stop bullshitting me." You shouted, feeling fed up with this crap.

"And I deeply regret everything that has happened. I was frustrated because I never had time for you anymore and I pushed you away. Not the smartest decision, I know and when you brought it up, I took my anger out on you, though I was angry with myself. When our relationship ended, I thought it was for the best, but i can't live without you!" He explained, tears falling from his eyes.

He crouched down next to your feet, wrapping his arms around your leg and hugged it tightly.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'm such an idiot and you deserve better than me, but I love you so much. I've loved you ever since we were kids, and I promise that if you take me back, I'll drop everything for you. I'll quit acting, won't go to anymore conventions, all of it! I just want my man back."

Your pants were really wet now because of the tears from Jensen. You knew now that he regretted his decision.

And deep down you knew that Jensen was the one for you.

You ran your fingers through Jensen's hair which made him look up at you, sniffling a little.

"You have another chance, but you better not fuck it up again." With that sentence, Jensen stood up and started planting kisses all over your face, "And you don't have to give up your career for me, Jen. You just need to make sure that we spend time with each other, okay?"

He nodded, shedding a few happy tears. But they weren't sad tears. They were tears of Joy.

---

~ 6 months later ~

"Hey Karen, can you please give these files to Jenny?" You asked, holding the files out to her as she took them and nodded her head, "Thanks!"

Y/N L/N!" Your co-worker, Lily called out, walking into your office as Karen walked out, giving you a hug, "Or should I call you Y/N Ackles now? Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!!"

You looked at her confused and a little frightened. How did she find out?

Seeing how confused you look, she showed you her phone and it was pictures that Jensen posted on his instagram.

It was pictures of you and him. He posted 5 pictures of you guys together.

The first phone was you and him as babies, playing in the sandbox together which was taken by your mother.

The second one was of you and him in high school. He had a wide smile on his face as he hugged.

The third one was of you and him cooking together and smiling happily at the camera.

The fourth one was of you and Jensen the day you got married.

And the last one was of you lying on his chest.

The caption said: Today, I would like to show the world my handsome husband and the love of my life, Y/N Ackles! I have known him since we were kids and always had a crush on him. He is the most amazing and lovable person in the world and he's very out of my league. Unfortunately, I fucked up our relationship many times, but he gave me another chance even though I didn't deserve it. I love you Y/N Ackles!! Thanks for always being with me!

(Btw, I know he's hot, but he's mine!)

You were shocked to see that he told the world about your relationship and tears started streaming down your face.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Lily asked, as you gave her back her phone. You didn't answer her question. Instead, you ran to the men's room and took out your phone, calling Jensen.

He picked up the phone after 4 rings.

"Hey Y/N!"

"Jensen, what was that all about?" You questioned.

"Did you not like it?" He asked, worried that you didn't like what he had done.

"I loved it. I loved it alot and I love you, but are you sure you were ready to come out right now? You know how Hollywood is."

"Fuck Hollywood! If they don't want me anymore for loving another man then I don't care. I have you and that's more than enough for me."

You smiled at the words spoken from Jensen and the two of you talked for a little while longer like two teenagers.

Your relationship with Jensen was strange and difficult at times, but you wouldn't trade him for anyone else.

#Jensen Ackles x male reader #Jensen Ackles x reader #male reader #x male reader #Jensen Ackles x male!reader #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x male!reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader

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y0itsbri · 3 years

Text

5 times Ian and Mickey eat ice-cream/popsicles together - shameless summer series 🍨🍦🥄

inspo from @ianandmickeygallavich's summer prompt list

moments from s2 - post-finale

words: 1.4k

the first time ian and mickey ate ice cream together was at the kash & grab. they had just finished helping lip stock up his ice cream truck with goods from the store. mickey focused on tuning out linda's obsessive ranting.

"you ever get anything from the ice cream truck when you were little?" ian asked out of nowhere, after a lull of silence had passed over them.

"the truck never ran in our neighborhood, numbnuts."

ian paused, considering, "oh, i guess maybe fiona took us to the parks sometimes. maybe that's where it was."

"probably." a pause.

"what would you get?"

"a joint."

"no, no, like from a legit truck!" ian rolled his eyes "i always got the bomb pops. carl always got the spongebob. he liked ripping the face apart."

"'course you would get the bomb pop, army."

"doesn't answer my question, mickey."

mickey flipped him off. "how about those little chocolate cones? those bitches always looked good."

ian smirked his dumbass smirk that mickey couldn't look at for too long without his cheeks heating up.

"what?" he asked, adverting his gaze.

ian headed towards the freezer. yeah, mickey could go for another round. he followed him until he saw that ian had stopped in front of the open door for a moment before turning around with two chocolate covered ice cream cones in hand. he handed one to mickey, cold fingers meeting hot for a brief second.

"i'll have to take it out of your pay check, of course," ian teased.

mickey simply glared his way, but softened when he realized the tone. "yeah? well i'd ring ya neck for even considering it, but it's hot as balls so i'm saving my breath."

"sureeee you are." ian smiled again.

it was quiet in the store except for their obnoxious slurping as the ice cream melted faster than they could lick it.

---

ian's been having a difficult time adjusting to his new med change. he was tired all the time, his usual go-getter motivation put on hold.

fiona usually only bought popsicles at the beginning of the summer. it wasn't the beginning of summer. it was almost fall. so no one knew how bomb pops were stocked in the freezer.

mickey knew.

carl wretched open the freezer, shaking the popsicle box upside down, the remaining three falling out. he took one for himself, passed one to a zombie-like version of ian sitting at the kitchen counter, and tossed another to mickey, who was reading a magazine at the kitchen table.

mickey furrowed his eyebrows. "i didn't ask."

"yeah, but you wanted one." carl shrugged and leaned against the fridge for a moment.

"thanks, kid." mickey mumbled after maybe somewhat of an awkward length of time. carl took that as a dismissal as he bounded up the stairs.

ian had been quiet, not even muttering a thanks. he managed to unwrap it, but not much else.

"'s your favorite, man," mickey nodded towards the bomb pop sitting idle in his hands.

ian half nodded and gave a sorry excuse for a fake smile. his popsicle dripped.

mickey frowned. patient, he got up from the table and sat next to ian, wiping the melted popsicle with his jacket sleeve.

they sat there quietly, eating their popsicles together, tongues cold and red.

mickey was trying.

---

ian and mickey had been in the car for hours now, heading further south with every passing minute. conversations fell anywhere from their past, their present, and their future. ian tried to keep his focus on their present.

"didn't you say there was some ice cream around here we gotta try?" ian wondered, memory flickering with something mickey had said a few hours ago.

"paletas de crema," mickey enunciated in a put-on spanish accent. he smirked. "yeah, man, we'll make a pit stop for it pretty soon. damon said it was to die for."

"wonder if damon's got himself arrested yet?" ian mused.

"nah, fuck him."

they stopped at some ma & pa shop down in texas near the border. somehow, mickey had a family discount.

mickey ordered pineapple, claiming to be a slut for piña coladas. he ordered a strawberry for ian, claiming to know what ian would like. he wasn't wrong. they switched ice creams for a couple licks and ian definitely preferred his strawberry.

mickey got a little on his chin and ian wiped it off without thinking, they both paused and stiffened for a moment, before acting like that didn't just happen. the uncharted territory scaring them both a bit.

---

"what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" franny asked, kicking her feet absentmindedly in the backseat of the new gallagher-milkovich van.

"really, kid? ya had a whole day of school you could be tellin' me about, but you wanna know about ice cream?" mickey argued with the six year old.

"mhmm," she nodded before staring out the window again.

"chocolate ice cream's my fav. what's yours?"

"strawberry!"

"'course it would be, strawberry shortcake. should we go get some, just the two of us?" mickey asked, pulling out of the school lot.

franny chanted for ice cream until the physical cups (not cones) were handed to them through the drive through. she frowned when she saw a third cup. there were only two people in the car, right? and this ice cream was green.

"what's that?" she asked incredulously.

"ice cream?"

"but it's green, uncle mickey!"

"'s pistachio. it's your uncle ian's favorite."

"we gotta wait for him before we eat ours then!"

mickey snuck a spoonful of his chocolate ice cream when fran wasn't looking.

mickey may have also broken several traffic laws to get them home before their ice cream could melt.

as soon as they were parked in the street, franny bolted towards the house, pink and green ice cream in hand.

"uncle ian, uncle ian! look!"

mickey slammed the car door behind him and picked up franny's backpack from the back seat. he glanced up to see franny nearly tackling his giant of a husband. he looked so enthusiastic about everything franny was telling him before he directed her inside.

mickey made his way over to ian's side, tossing franny's backpack at his feet with a thud before giving him a quick smooch.

"mmm," ian hummed. he smacked his lips together. a pause. "chocolate?" he asked, picking up the backpack.

"what about it?" mickey's eyebrows raised, somewhere between a threat and a tease.

"fran told me you were waiting for me."

"told ya i'm not good with rules," mickey smirked at him before following franny inside.

they all ate at the dining table while franny told both of them about her drama-filled day at first grade.

---

it was a hot ass summer and the AC in their apartment was on the fritz. they thought that moving to the west side would guarantee working utilities at all times, but apparently they were wrong because it was sweltering inside their bedroom.

ian couldn't help but lay on the bed and groan. he was shirtless, hair still a bit wet from his most recent shower, and he was utterly uncomfortable.

mickey had left to go to the corner store in a fucking jacket like a crazy person. so ian closed his eyes and waited it out.

he opened his eyes again to the sound of a wrapper being ripped open. mickey sauntered over to the bed, tossing his jacket in the corner. ian was distracted by just how good mickey's arms looked today that it took him a moment to realize what was in his hands.

a cold, cold popsicle in all its glory.

ian reached for it, but mickey moved it out of reach, instead dramatically teasing ian when he licked it.

ian didn't know if the heat or his taunting husband would be the death of him.

it looked like mickey finally had his share of fun fucking with ian. he brought the popsicle close to ian's mouth, hovering above his awaiting tongue. at the last second mickey dipped the popsicle below his mouth, messily dragging it down his chin, neck, chest. ian shivered at the chill, and then again as the sticky trail was covered with mickey's tongue, still cold from the popsicle.

ian would have to shower again, but he couldn't care less.

#my posts #shameless #gallavich #gallavich fanfiction #gallavich fanfic #shameless fanfic #shameless fanfiction #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 7 | If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom finally pulls himself together to tell Molly he loves her. But is it too late for these two?

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

Tom paced around the house for a good two hours. Each plan he came up with to win Molly back, more hairbrained than the next. None of them would have worked anyway. Tom didn’t know where she was staying. And she had been smart enough to withdraw cash from an ATM to use for a hotel room. During Tom’s muttering and ranting, his eye caught the vase Molly put the flowers from yesterday in. The sight of them enraged him so much that he flung them across the room. It hit the wall, sending glass, water and flowers flying and leaving a mark on the wall.

“Fuck! Another fucking mess to clean up.” he growled at himself as he went to clean it up.

Tom sliced open a finger and the palm of his right hand, picking up the glass shards to bin them.

“Christ, Thomas! Can’t do anything right. Break the vase and make a mess, cut your hand to hell, destroy the one good thing…”

He collapsed into sobs against the wall, covering his eyes with his non-injured hand. The other hand hung at his side, blood dripping onto the floor. It took a good five minutes for Tom to get himself off the floor. He poorly dressed the wound on his palm, having only the use of one hand and not his good hand.

Rather than bothering to clean up the mess, he let it sit and headed to bed. Not that he would do much sleeping.

He woke the next morning to more speculation in the papers about his marriage and a splitting headache. He fixed himself an espresso. His stomach rumbled, and he realized he missed dinner yesterday. Tom opened the fridge to find storage containers of fruit with little notes on them.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Tom chuckled as tears welled up again. “Oh, Molly.” He opened up the container and popped a piece of melon into his mouth. His phone buzzed.

“Ben.” he answered dryly, popping another piece of melon in.

“That bad? I suspected as much. How did you fuck this up?” Ben chuckled.

“I yelled. I called her stupid. I got jealous. But mostly I yelled. I never should have yelled at her. She doesn’t like to be yelled at. I promised not to yell at her…”

“You’re babbling, Tom. How on earth does a confession of your undying love turn into you yelling and her, sleeping on the couch?”

“Never got that far, and she moved out.” Tom sniffled. “I, I don’t know where she is.”

“Well, damn it man, find her and fix this. I can’t handle another six months of you moping about.” Ben groaned.

“What makes you think she’ll take me back. I broke her trust. I did the one thing—”

“She will take you back because she loves you. Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. Besides, didn’t Loki kick Captain America’s ass?”

Tom chuckled. “Only once.” Tom sighed. “But how am I going to find her?”

“Have you tried the phone?”

Tom glared at his mobile. “You are hilarious, mate. Yes.”

“One of her friends then. Surely, someone must know where she is staying.”

Tom shook his head. “She doesn’t really have many…” Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve got to let you go, Ben.”

“Where are you off to?”

“I got to sell my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“Worse. My sister.”

Emma didn’t expect to see her brother appear on her doorstep that morning. She had expected him to call first.

“I don’t know where she is, Tom!” Emma snapped back.

“You’re lying, Emma. Your brow always twitches when you are lying. Where is she, Emma?”

“I’m not telling you, Tom. She told me what you said.” Emma narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“And I need to tell her I was a right bastard.”

“Which you are!”

Tom shook his head. “If I tell you everything, will you tell where Molly is? I don’t care if she tells me to fuck off. I just need her to know I love her. More than anything.”

Emma opened the door wider and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

Tom stepped inside. “So you know how after the break-up, the papers kept running stories about me?”

“Yeah…”

Tom ran his toe along the edge of the rug in Emma’s foyer. “So I may have come up with the idea of getting married to give the papers something else to write?”

Emma’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “So you’re not married. Mum is going to—”

“Oh no, I’m legally married. I’ve got the certificate to prove it. I agreed to pay off her debts in exchange for carrying as my wife.” Tom’s voice grew smaller as he explained the whole arrangement.

“Is Molly a—”

“Don’t even say it, Emma or I swear. Don’t speak ill of Molly. She is a nice girl who has managed admirably despite a horrific childhood. And I…” He struggled to find the words.

“Fell in love.” Emma finished his sentence.

Tom’s eyes welled with tears, and he nodded. “I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did, Em. She is…” Tom choked. “… my world. I love her so much it burns me from the inside out and she doesn’t know. She needs to know. I can’t let her go without her knowing she is loved. By me.” A tear fell onto Tom’s cheek.

Emma stood there for a moment, silently staring at her brother, crying in her foyer. “You realize by telling me all this, I will have enough to blackmail you until the end of time to not tell Mother?”

“A price I will gladly pay to get the chance to talk to my wife one more time.” Tom gazed up at his sister. “Will you help me, Emma?”

She shifted her feet around. “She’s at the Park International Hotel, Room 223.”

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Em.”

“Go get the girl, Tom.” she smiled at him.

“Thanks for coming over.” Molly sniffled. “I know you’re busy.”

“Hey, hey.” Chris reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s no trouble. You sounded so upset on the phone.”

Molly smiled over at Chris before her face crumbled as she cried again. For the looks of it, she had cried most of the night. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red.

“Sh, sh, sh.” Chris moved to envelope her in a hug, pulling her tight to his chest. “Tell me what happened. It’s about the picture, isn’t it?”

Molly nodded her head against him. “Yes.”

“I can’t imagine Tom getting mad about that, babe. We are just friends.”

“I know, right? But Tom got so mad and cold. And he yelled. He knows how… how.. I.. am with yelling.” She buried her head in his chest. “I thought he cared about me.”

“Of course he cares about you. He loves you, Molly.” Chris pulled back. “You’re his wife.”

“It’s a bit more to it than that, I’m afraid.” She wiped the tears away. “Our relationship is…” She was on the verge of telling Chris everything.

“Complicated?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “Tell me about it. And the fame only makes it worst. Everyone watching and judging. They have no idea what is going behind closed doors.”

“That’s an understatement.” Molly sniffled. “How do you deal?”

Chris smiled and laughed. “Not well. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m single.”

“A handsome guy like you?” Molly teased.

“I have my flaws. But my dog thinks I’m great.”

Molly laughed for the first time. “I bet he does.”

“But the important thing is that the two of you love and care for each other, and the rest of it is bullshit.” Chris sighed. “And you and Tom clearly care for each other. Why else would he act so possessive?” Chris smirked.

“You noticed that?”

“I could have been blind and noticed that. Tom has got it bad. And I can’t say I blame him. A beautiful, amazing girl like you. He’s a lucky guy. If you were single…”

Molly blushed. “Thanks.”

They sat in awkward silence until Chris smacked his legs.

“Well, this is awkward. I’m going to go get some food for us and bring it back, and we are going to figure out what to do next.”

Chris turned to leave. “Chris!” Molly called out.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“Sure, babe.”

Tom stepped out of the elevator and walked towards Molly’s room. The entire drive over, Tom went through his head what he would say to Molly. How he would beg her to come back. That he loved her. All that went out the window when he saw Chris leaving Molly’s room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom bellowed. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Chris spun around and his eyes narrowed. “I’m here at Molly’s request. Apparently, her husband upset her.” he sniped back.

“And you’re here to comfort her? That’s my job. I’m her husband.” Tom’s fist clenched as he saw Chris smirking at him.

“You’re doing a piss-poor job, buddy. She’s been crying all night.” Chris jabbed his thumb at the door.

“How would you know that?!” Tom marched forward until he was toe to toe with Evans.

Chris looked Tom up and down. “Listen,” he ignored Tom’s question. “if things don’t work out between the two of you, mind if I date her? She’s seems like a great girl, deserves a good—”

CRACK! Tom punched Chris square on the jaw. Chris tumbled to the ground, holding his face.

“If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!” Tom yelled back.

“Tom!” Molly stood at the door. “What the fuck?!”

“Molly!” Tom and Chris called out together. They both rushed to her, but Tom got there first, kicking a foot out to keep Chris at bay.

“Darling, I…” Tom reached out for her. Molly took a step back.

“How did you even find me?”

“Emma told me.”

Molly huffed. “Traitor.”

“She knows.” Tom leaned in.

Molly gasped. “You told her?! But she might tell your mom. Tom, I…”

“You’re worth the risk.”

“I should say so.” Chris piped up.

Tom’s head twisted around to glare at Chris.

“You’re still here? This is none of your concern.” Tom hissed.

“I was invited.” Chris straightened his shirt. “Right, Molly?”

Molly held up her hand. “I think you should go, Chris.”

“But—” Chris protested.

“Tom and I need to talk. Alone.”

Tom smiled at Chris. “Nice to see you, mate.”

Chris wanted to push the issue but knew better. He sighed. “Fine, but call me if you need anything, Molly. I’m still in town for a few more days.”

Molly nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Chris.”

“You’re welcome.” Chris shoved his pockets and walked towards the elevator.

Tom returned his attention to Molly. They stepped into her room and shut the door. “It hasn’t even been 24 hours, Molly. And he’s already in your be—”

“Did you just come here to yell at me again?! And what are you talking about?”

“Chris said you have been crying all night. I assumed…” Tom stopped. “He didn’t—”

“No, but thanks for thinking so little of me. Did you come here to tell me that?”

“No, I…” Tom stumbled over his words. “I was wrong. I should have never yelled. Especially knowing what I did. You were right, I was jealous of Chris. I still am.”

Molly tapped her foot. “Anything else? Because you could have sent all of that in a text. You didn’t need to come here. It doesn’t change anything, Tom. I.. can’t… keep…” Her voice wavered, all her hurt and emotions mixed up inside of her.

Tom swallowed hard and exhaled sharply. “I love you, Molly. I am…” He chuckled. “hopelessly in love with you. That’s why I got so jealous. I was afraid that…” Tom fidgeted. “… you would leave me.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Molly fidgeted.

“I’m an idiot.” Tom stepped forward, cupping her cheek. “I thought admitting I loved you meant losing you. Our relationship was never meant to be this. It was business. And then Chris came along and the two of you got along. I lost my mind.

“The heart wants what it wants.” Molly whispered, her hands lighting on Tom’s shoulders. “Tom, I…”

Tom pleaded. “Please come back. I need you, Molly. I will spend the rest of my life showing you, proving to you I am worthy of your love. Just please come back.” Tom pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard and crying.

“I… I… love you too.” Molly whispered, starting to sob. “And you are an absolute idiot.”

They both laughed. Tom leaned in and his lips tentatively, scared she would turn away. Molly deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Tom’s neck, pulling him against her. Tom walked them back until she hit the wall. Molly gasped. Tom breathed her in and slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting every corner of her. He wanted to know every inch. She clung to him for dear life, tasting him as well. There was heat and passion and everything Molly wanted. She leaned back against the wall, panting.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long.” Tom continued to kiss her, in between words, stealing her breath. “Marry me.”

Molly giggled against his lips, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m already married to you.”

Tom’s lips trailed down Molly’s neck. “Then sleep with me.” He sucked hard in the crook of her neck. “Let me make love to you, darling. I need you.” He pressed against her, desperate.

“Yes.” The only word Molly could muster in the moment.

Tom picked her up and walked her to the unmade bed and placed her down. As he tugged his shirt off, Molly scrambled with her shirt and pants, tossing them onto the floor, leaving herself in just a bra and panties.

Tom smiled and licked his lips as he yanked his belt off and pushed his pants and underwear to the floor. Molly gulped as she took in Tom naked.

“Bra and panties too.” he prodded as he crawled onto the bed. “I want to see my wife in all her beauty.”

Molly shivered at his words and her hands shook as she unhooked her bra and slipped her panties down her legs. She laid there naked.

“Glorious.” Tom purred as he settled between her legs. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, sucking and licking. Molly arched her back and groaned.

“Fuck, yes!” She grabbed the back of Tom’s head and pulled him closer.

Tom released her nipple with a pop and moved over to the other one. His hand snaked between their bodies to find Molly’s core, teasing her clit with his thumb. She bucked against his touch.

“Tom, please. I need you.” Her hand stroked his cock, teasing the tip along her folds. “All of you.”

“Then all of me you shall have.” Tom pushed into her, groaning until he bottomed out. Molly arched into him, filled to the brim.

“Yes!” she breathed.

Tom twisted his hips as he thrusted into her with long strokes, hitting that spot inside of her. Molly bucked her hips, wanting every inch of him. Her nails dug into Tom’s back.

Tom wanted the moment to last forever. Just him and Molly and nothing else. But his release edged near, and he wanted to please Molly first.

“Are you close, darling?” Tom growled in her ear.

Molly nodded. “Yes!”

Tom drew tight circles against Molly’s clit as he sped up his thrusting. “Come for me, my love.”

Molly soon came, clenching hard around him, causing Tom to come too, spilling inside of her. He carefully rolled off to the side, and pulled Molly onto his chest, smoothing her hair back and kissing her forehead.

“That was incredible, darling. You are…”

“So are you.” she interrupted, wiggling into the crook of the body. “Tom?”

“Molly?”

“Will you do me a favor?” She drew circles in Tom’s chest hair with her nail.

“Anything.” He held his breath, waiting.

“Take me home.” Her face breaking out into a sparkling smile.

Tom pressed his lips to hers. “On one condition….” She raised an eyebrow. “You move into the master bedroom with me. I haven’t slept a wink in weeks because you aren’t there.”

Molly laughed as she nodded her head. “Deal.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston smut #accidently married

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crossdressingdeath · 3 years

Note

I agree with your points on the various threads you talk about of the Jiang Family. Reading them gave me lot of insight on their characters especially JYL once I took off my rose-tinted glasses.

Madam Yu is poison when it comes to her family dynamics and unfortunately JC turns to her guide more so than his own father. Madam Yu is a character who purposely makes things harder for her self because she is unsatisfied and unhappy. People in the fandom like to say she is a victim because her husband is not in love with her. But really who would love her as a wife or as a mother? I wouldn't... Honestly can you imagine living your whole life being tense at the dining table. I always joke with my mother and play funny pranks it'd fucking hurt me if my own mother would have said she wished I wasn't born. I am no psychologist but ya gotta admit shit like that would make you have trust issues or make you rethink critically of your own mother.

For all the Madam Stan out... MY is incredibly hard to please with

People like Madam Yu is destined to live a lonely life because they are incredibly narrow-minded and point out all the faults in their own life instead of their own actions.

That is why WWX had a second chance. I always think that he must have received divine intervention and reaped his awards because of all the good and acculmated good karma earned in his first life. He followed his own moral code and did the right thing even if things went south for him.

She is not a victim, but an abuser, a woman who terrorizes her own husband, children, and everyone around her for no apparent reason.

I'm beginning to suspect that, just as JC must have been appeased by his actions, Madam Yu was as a child.

Well, WWX got a second chance because he was powerful enough and lucky enough in his acquaintances that he was picked up as a useful tool for revenge. It gets glossed over a lot because it's not a hugely important part of the story, but WWX only gets brought back so someone else can take advantage of his incredible skill and good nature; the only difference is that unlike the Jiangs NHS is happy to leave WWX alone to live his life once the task he needs him for is done. I don't think divine intervention figures into it, he was just useful. To useful to leave dead, as it happens. Remember, all the sects were trying to track down WWX's spirit, presumably so they could use it; NHS and MXY were just the ones to make it work.

But yeah, people always treat YZY like a victim when... name one thing that happens to her that isn't her own damn fault. Her husband doesn't love her? Well, maybe she shouldn't have forced him to marry her! Her children are useless? Maybe she should have taught them instead of just berating them when they weren't instantly perfect! Her sect was destroyed and she died? Maybe she shouldn't have picked a fight with the people who'd parked an army on her doorstep! Her husband likes his ward better than her son because he was in love with the kid's mother rather than his wife? ...Well, that one's something she made up so it's even more her fault than the others because any consequences are entirely in her head and any rumours about it came from her. Really, if JFM wasn't so insanely distant and conflict-averse she would've been out on her ass years before WWX showed up in Lotus Pier. In fact morally she should have been the moment she started mistreating his children; JFM might have been okay to ignore it for himself, but he didn't have the right to make that decision for his kids. YZY got infinitely more than she ever deserved just by being allowed to stay in Lotus Pier; she certainly didn't deserve love from anyone there. Also, I hate this insistence that JFM was abusive because he didn't bow before YZY's every whim; seriously, pay attention to those arguments and it's like "He was abusive to YZY because instead of leaving WWX to starve on the street he brought him into the sect and gave him a position worthy of his skills", "He was abusive to YZY because he occasionally told her off for abusing children", "He was abusive to YZY because he had feelings for someone other than her at some point", "He was abusive to YZY because she concluded he liked his brilliant and charming ward better than his jackass son who she actively prevented from learning anything approaching decent behaviour and he didn't immediately devote all his time and attention to showing her otherwise"... They range from stupid to the usual JC stan argument of "How dare he not shut up and take abuse and instead openly dislike being treated like that". YZY deserved death more than she deserved anything approaching love from the people in her life and people claiming that JFM was the abusive one because he didn't obediently adore the woman who'd been treating him like shit for years just because she wanted it are... so wrong.

#mdzs #lotus mom #asks

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fuckthesworld · 4 years

Text

FREEDOM TO DESIRE

CEO MITCH RAPP AU

MITCH RAPP x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and unprotected sex!

Rapp Corporation was the leading marketing firm in the world. Companies like Disney, Sony and Southwest paid millions of dollars to be associated with it. It represented actors, athletes, business moguls and small businesses. While it was in high demand it was also reasonable - sponsoring schools and nonprofit organizations around the world.

The single person driving the reigns to the crazy international kingdom that resided in London was Mitch Rapp . That’s right. He was part of a decade of strong, successful businessmen.

And he was your boss.

You had literally stumbled into the job of personal assistant. Literally. You were walking out of a coffee shop, resumes in hand when you ran into his large, hard frame. You landed on your ass and when you were able to recover, you were looking into the deepest chocolate eyes you had ever seen. His bright white teeth clashed against his tan skin, his dark locks perfectly framing his face.

Then you remembered that you had spilled coffee on one of the most powerful, young bachelors in the world.

You had also spilled coffee all over your resume and you groaned in realization, the expensive fresh pages coated in thick lakes of coffee. He had helped you pick up the lost keys to your future, taking a second to read over your resume and offered you a job. He was on the way to meet someone about being his personal assistant and you did just get your masters in public relations. You could intern while still making money and if you showed promise he promised to promote you.

Sometimes life really does work out in your favor. Sit in that for five seconds then remember that your boss is one of the sexiest, most successful young CEO’s in the world.

Not only is he attractive but he has the work ethic of an ox. And it made working for him damn hard. Probably harder than managing the clients he had. He was constantly in meetings, constantly leaving early in the morning and late in the evening. Going to galas and charity events, charming new people. He opened up smaller chains in areas in the world stricken by poverty to try to help increase job opportunities. He volunteered at schools and hospitals. He spent his Thanksgiving and Christmas and any other holiday of giving providing food for those in need. Always. He’s always been like this.

Mitch wasn’t just a CEO. Wasn’t even human.

He was a goddamn saint sent from heaven to wreak havoc on earth.

It was on such an occasion that he had asked you to attend one of his events - a large gala celebrating 50 years of business with his father and grandfather. The whole legacy under one roof. You didn’t understand why you were asked to attend. As his assistant sure you had to manage the media and who visited him. But that had been hours ago. The night was now thriving off the rich and famous drunkenly dancing and teasing each other. Mitch never drank more than two glasses of anything at events like these so you didn’t have to babysit him. But you also wanted to go home if he didn’t need you and that he refused.

You watched him as he laughed along with two of his most trusted partners, Scott Mccall and Derek Hale as they sipped expensive champagne and spoke lowly among each other. Mitch was wearing a tailored blue suit, his white button up popping against a black tie. His slight beard had grown since he shaved it these past two days and was now a short beard and all you could think about was how it would feel between your legs.

You shook your head, returning your eyes to your blackberry. You had to get it together. Everyone teased you that he had a thing for you. He never had women assistants. Preferred men to ensure that things stayed professional. Never offered people jobs on the spot either.

There was just something about you they would tease.

Well he sure as hell wasn’t making a move so until he did it would have to stay a mystery.

“You’re still working for him.”

The soft voice takes you off guard and you jump a bit, breaking from your thoughts as your eyes fall on your assailant. Standing in a dark red gown, her pale skin contrasting with her perfectly coiffed dark hair is Katrina Mendes.

Ex-girlfriend of Mitch Rapp.

She takes a seat beside you, the soft smell of Chanel wafting off her skin as she continues.

“Didn’t think a fragile little thing like you would survive a man like him.”

You knew what she was doing. Her younger sister, Annika , had warned you about this months ago. When you had accidentally ran into her at a golf tournament with Mitch. She loved him still. Despite the fact that she married someone new, moved across the world, she still loved and wanted him. Didn’t want anyone else to claim him.

You were a threat. You were beautiful, intelligent. charming and apparently upon Scott’s teasing, he spoke about you a lot. Katrina hated you. And reminded you every time she saw you.

“Surprised you’re here. Thought you’d be back in America with your husband. Oh wait, he’s in Japan with his mistress of the month.”

It was no secret her husband cheated on her. She even laughed about it but deep down you knew it killed her inside. Killed her that she chose a man like that over a man like Mitch. It made you even empathize for her…until she opened her mouth and you were reminded that karma was real.

She narrows her eyes at you before deliberately taking the large flute of champagne in her hand and slowly tilting it on your dress. On your $3,000 dress you had charged on your credit card that you had planned on returning tomorrow. You had only bought the navy blue gown to try to impress Mitch, hoping he would be charmed by the way it looked on your body.

It hadn’t and now, on top of rejection, she had ruined it and put you $3,000 in the hole.

“Have fun returning your De la Rented dress.” she smirks at you as you stand, the champagne trailing down the front of the long gown. You try to bite back tears, try not to bring too much attention to yourself as you pat at he gown down with a napkin before looking at her.

“I really hope you’re happy making other people’s life miserable Katrina. Because from what I hear, you used to be an awesome person and now, now you’re just a lonely bitch.”

You don’t notice the crowd of people who have been crowding around, watching the small scene unfold. Don’t see Mitch head toward you as you make your way down to the hallway to the family restroom. You don’t realize the tears that have been falling down your cheeks until you feel him grab your arm, turning you gently toward him.

“Y/N…” your name sounds different on his tongue and the way he’s looking at you has you sobbing harder. You try to push him away as he draws you to him, his large sculpted arms surrounding you as he whispers,

“Just let it all out.”

You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve wasted $3,000 on a dress that had made little impact in your life. Maybe its because you’ve been up since 4:30 because of him, trying to make his night perfect. You missed having a social life. Missed your mom and dad and siblings. Missed your small loft in London.

Missed all of this because of him and he didn’t even give a damn.

The thought drives your sobs deeper and his grip tightens around you as you cry harder, his large hands rubbing your back. His mouth hushes you and he rocks you before you start to calm down, your sobs tampering off and you pull away, shaking your head. You want to apologize for your unprofessionalism and you also wanted to tell him he could take his assistant job and fuck off but then his left hand is hooking under your chin as he tilts your head up to you.

“I can pay for your dress. I’m sorry she ruined it. But holy hell Y/N what did you expect when you wore something like this?”

His right hand that has never left your body tampers down your back as he pulls you closer to him.

“You’ve been driving everybody mad wearing this,” he eyes are shifting now, darkening around the pupils as he licks his lips. “It should be a condemned sin.”

His voice has dropped an octave and the deep bass draws a shiver up your spine. You give your lip a light bite and he gives a short groan, the pad of his thumb brushing over the exposed skin. His hand tightens around your waist as he whispers,

“You should be a condemned sin.”

You’re looking up at him confused, trying to register what he was saying. He watches you back, trying to get a read on you before he straightens, pulling from you.

“I hope you’re feeling better.” he croaks, backing away as he takes you in one last time before he turns on his heel. You stop him, your hand shooting for his arm. You walk around him, his hair covering his pinched eyes as you whisper,

“What do you mean by that Mitch?”

He doesn’t look at you as he manages out,

“I’ve drank too much. I shouldn’t…” he looks at you and groans. “You just, I should have asked you out and not have offered you a job.”

The words takes you off guard as he takes a deep sigh.

“You’re so goddamn sexy and smart and I felt terrible ruining your resumes,” he was referencing your encounter months ago. “That offering you a job was the best I could do. I thought you’d get burnt out and quit and then I could ask you out but you’re so damn good. So damn good at everything you do so I’ve been stuck pretending I don’t care when all I want is you.”

Your dumbstruck as he looks at you and groans, shrugging out of your embrace.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We can leave, if you want.”

He’s looking past you and you’re trying to process it all.

He really did like you.

You grab his neck, drawing him down to you, your lips pressing against his. It catches him off guard for only a second before he’s registering your actions, his hands grabbing your hips as he pushes you flush against a wall. His kisses are needy and desperate as his tongue teases your mouth open and you are consumed by him. Your hands move to his hair, his beautiful dark tresses getting tangled in your delicate fingers as he moans in your mouth, pushing his hips into your naval.

You moan feeling his erection brush against you and he pulls away, his eyes frenzied with lust.

“Not here.” his voice is hoarse and deep as he grabs you and basically drags you into the family restroom you were seeking out earlier. He shuts the door, locking it before grabbing you and slamming you against the door. He lifts you, your long gown getting lost around him as your legs hooks around his waist and his mouth is on your collarbone, sucking on the skin.

“You are so damn gorgeous,” he mumbles along your skin, his mouth nipping at your neck. “Do you know that? Do you know that you’ve been driving me fucking insane in this dress” his hands trail up your gown, his hot fingers clashing with your cool thighs and his mouth has found yours. “Drove me insane the moment I picked you up and you were wearing this.” His hands ghost over your center and you give a small yelp, as he pulls back to look you in the eye.

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” he bites his lips as he glides his fingers up your wet folds and you shiver as you stumble out,

“I always run out of clean underwear and you came so early to pick me up I couldn’t go and buy a pair.”

His hands slowly traces up and down your pussy and he watches your face twist in pleasure.

“How many times have you worked with me without any panties on?”

“Honestly?” you bite down on your lip as his thumb slowly starts to tease against your clit and your hips rock against his finger. “Like most of the time. You don’t give me enough time to do my laundry.”

Your words are soft, barely coming in a whisper and he growls, sticking a finger into you as he begins his slow assault into your tight walls.

“You are so fucking wet,” he whispers as he looks at you, a wicked grin on his face. “Are you always this wet for me princess?”

You give a weak nod as he inserts another finger and you buck against him, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I thought I smelled you the other week when we were at dinner.” You knew what he was referencing. He had taken you out for dinner after a long day at the office at a trendy sushi spot. He had been talking to you as his nimble fingers gracefully picked up one sushi after the other, the raw fish placed carefully in his mouth. You don’t know why it turned you on but it did. You wanted to know what those fingers would feel like in you, his mouth over yours.

Now you knew.

“Did I smell you princess?” he whispers a grin gracing his face and you give another weak nod and he growls, inserting a third finger in you. You arch your back against him, hands stuck in his hair as his mouth attacks your neck again.

“Tell me what had you so turned on so much?”

You give a weak mewl in silence and he pulls his fingers out, causing you to whine. He looks up at you with hooded eyes shaking his head.

“You have to use your words princess.”

“I was thinking about you finger fucking me.” you manage out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush over. He smiles as he sticks his fingers back in you, watching your face contort in pleasure again. His fingers curls up and hits you in that sweet spot and you feel your body tensing, clawing for release.

“Were you?”

You give a quick nod and he chuckles, his mouth getting close to your ear. His fingers are merciless know, pumping into you faster as his thumb brushes against your clit and you can feel that tension in your stomach build up.

“Wanna hear a secret princess?” he whispers against the shell of your ear and you hum, your body starting to give in to the pleasure he was delighting you to. “I’ve jacked off to you every night since I’ve met you, cumming all over my body from the thought of my dick being filled to the rim in you.”

That was all you needed. Between his fingers and the image of him jacking off to you your screaming his name, your fingers tangled in his hair as your walls flutter around his fingers. He groans, coaxing you through your climax as he watches you before he pulls from you, inserting all three of his fingers in his mouth. He gives a low moan as he sucks your essence off and pulls his fingers out with a pop before your leaning into him for a kiss.

He shifts, carrying you to the bathroom counter and slamming placing you down. He yanks at his suit, pulling down his pants and boxers as his cock springs free.

“Tonight I’ll make love to you the way you deserve,” he promises as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I’ll have you begging my name by the time I’m done with you but right now I just need you.”

His cock is teasing your folds as you look up at him, your eyes darkening as you thrust your hips forward. He stops you, something dark flickering in his eyes.

“What do you want princess?” he whispers and you moan as your hands pull at his shoulders.

“I want you.”

“You want me to what?” a satisfied smirk sits on his face and you rub your folds against his twitching cock.

“Want you to fuck me with your big fucking cock.”

He groans as he slowly thrusts into you, grabbing your hands and intertwining them with yours as he raises them above your head. His head falls in the crook of your neck as he bottoms out in you, his hair tickling your shoulders and you both give a satisfied moan. You rock your hips against him, enjoying the way he fills you to the brim and he moans as he pulls from you, his hips rocking out of you before slamming back in.

“Goddamn you are tight..” he whispers as he lifts himself enough to look at you, then his mouth is hot on yours as his body claims you.

His hips snap into you, desperately chasing after your orgasm before he lifts your leg and you’re getting hit in that special spot that has you screaming out his name.

“That’s right princess. Want you to cum all over my big cock.” he whispers, his hips in a frenzy as he watches you unwind underneath him. His finger finds your clit and flicks the sensitive area and you’re screaming his name again, your body shaking as you find sweet release. His hips are sloppily slapping against your as your walls tighten around before there milking him his body shaking uncontrollably as your arms find your way around his body.

You wait a beat before saying,

“Soooo…I’m guessing I have to quit. This is the highest level of conflicted interest if I’ve ever known one.”

He chuckles, his face tucked in your shoulder before pulling away and kissing you.

“I don’t want you to quit.”

“Wouldn’t that be -”

“Unless you want to. You’re free to work in any of our departments. You’re way too good to be an assistant.” he’s rambling, something he does when he’s nervous and you chuckle, leaning up and kissing him. He relaxes as you pull away, his lips tugged between your teeth before you whisper.

“Let’s worry about it tomorrow. I should at least get a year under your belt before we talk about commitment.”

He chuckles, wiggling against you and there’s a soft knock on the door and you both freeze before you hear Scott’s voice.

“…….so uhhh, I don’t mean to interrupt you two but ummmm,” he clears his throat though you can hear the humour in his voice. “Your dad is looking for you Mitch. For a photo.”

Mitch groans and you laugh, giving a lock of his hair a tug.

“Give us a minute Scott. We need to….make ourselves decent.”

“Uh huh.” You know he’s smiling as he walks away and Mitch’s eyes are glinting at you mischievously.

“How long do you think he’s been standing out there hearing you scream out my name?”

“Mitch! That’s your best friend!” you say in mock surprise and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Scott’s always had a thing for you.” he nuzzles his face in your neck before muttering. “Besides I have another round in me.”

His shimmies his hips against yours and you gasp at his dick hardening in you.

You both make it out of the bathroom thirty minutes later.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp smut #mitch-tober #mitch month #american assassin #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o brien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien #mitch rapp imagine #mitchober

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hoodharlow · 3 years

Text

Como Antes

AN: So I'm gonna include this in the El Novio Quarantine Edition masterpost, so y'all don't confused with original El Cumpleañero on the actual El Novio masterpost. Also to shout out to @findingliam-o and her y/n-esque dreams that brought this baby back to existence.

Requested: by steph i guess lol, ilysm bby

Warnings: smut, brief angst and mentions of shitty boyfriend that gave out baby Claudia shit for not being a virgin

Word Count: 3.6k words

Claudia’s finger followed the words on the computer screen as she wrote down the quote she was going to use for her paper. She hated reading off PDFs because it made her eyes tired. She liked having physical copies of her assigned readings because she paid more attention to what was being said and she could write in the margins little annotations. The book she needed was at Calum’s house and there was no way in hell she was going to go back to his place after what Ashton said.

Calum had called and texted her nonstop, but she ignored him. She was just embarrassed that she acted like a coward. She should have stood her ground and told Ashton he was wrong about her. But she didn’t.

Even Michael and Sierra called her to check in on her after hearing through Luke that something happened between her and Ashton. Claudia ignored her too and the past week she acted like they didn’t exist. She just wanted the ground to swallow her whole and make Calum forget about her existence.

Frustrated with the reading she got up from her desk chair and went to the kitchen to get a snack. She grabbed a juice box and reheated some noodles she ordered the other day.

The house was surprisingly quiet. Her housemates went out to some frat party Ale's brother was throwing. They invited Claudia, but she wasn't in the mood to go. After getting home from Calum's, she cried at how stupid Ashton made her feel. They comforted her, reminding her that Calum knew her and that Ashton is a jerk that doesn’t know her.

She dumped her noodles on a plate and soaked the pan. She took her plate and went back to her room. Claudia knew she wasn't going to get her work done that night, so she pulled up Netflix. She stumbled on a show about three women robbing a grocery store because one of them had a daughter with a bad kidney and another was about to lose her house because her husband was a cheating piece of shit. While the other is just a mess working a minimum wage job.

Claudia was deep in IMDB trying to figure out where she saw the mistress, when she heard the doorbell. She paused the show and made her way to the front door. She peeked through the window sills and saw Ariel red hair.

Ashton.

She rolled her eyes and went to open the door.

"What do you want?" She deadpanned when she opened the door. She reached for a blanket and stepped outside.

"Hello to you too." Ashton sassed.

"What do you want?" Claudia repeated.

"I came to apologize. Calum hasn't talked to me in days and— why are you rolling your eyes?"

"Because you're full of shit. You're only here so you can go back to Cal and tell him you apologized so he can talk to you again. You only care about making yourself feel good after you stuck your nose where it's not supposed to be."

"Claudia,"

"Oh now it's Claudia. I was really starting to think my name was radio girl."

"You're really making it hard to apologize."

"I'm not. I'm just saying that just how you didn't give a fuck about my feelings when you told Cal that I'm only with him to catch some dick, I don't care about yours. If you came to apologize then do it."

Ashton was quiet. Claudia scoffed and turned back to go inside.

"Claudia, I'm sorry," He began. She turned back and leaned against the door frame. "It was shitty of me to say that about you. You're right, it wasn't my place to tell Cal that. In addition I shouldn't assume your sexual history."

"More like a lack of sexual history." Claudia mumbled out loud. Her eyes widened upon realizing she said that out loud.

"Oh you're a…"

"Yeah."

"Well, now I feel like an even bigger asshole." Ashton said. He scratched the back of his neck.

They both stood quietly, looking down at the ground.

"Um Cal didn't want a party for his birthday this year. Apparently, he has plans in the evening. So Sierra and I reserved a room at this restaurant for brunch. It's just gonna be the guys and Sierra. KayKay is still out of town and Crystal is working an event or something. I'm sure Cal would be happy to see you."

"I'll think about it."

***

Calum pulled out his keys from the ignition, yawning. Only Ashton and Sierra would plan to do something in the morning. Granted it was almost eleven, but with the lack of sleep Calum was going through, it was too early for him. Not to mention he didn't want to go. He was still pissed at Ashton for making things awkward with Claudia. Sierra reassured him that that was resolved and that he should go.

He grabbed his leather jacket and stepped out of the car. He shoved his hands in his pockets, surprised at how cold it was even with the bright sun out. When he walked in the place, he heard Ashton's hearty laugh followed by Luke and Michael's giggles, letting him know he went to the right place. He followed the hostess to a room in the back.

"About time you showed up." Sierra said, making Claudia look up from her phone.

She softly smiled at him. Michael pulled Calum into a hug, bringing him back to reality. Luke and Sierra hugged him as well and wished him a happy birthday.

Ashton got up and pulled him away from the table. He ran his hand through his red hair and cleared his throat.

"Claudia and I had a talk a few days ago." Ashton said.

"So I heard." Calum nodded.

"I apologized to her and we're good. But I want to apologize to you too." Ashton looked behind Calum's shoulder watching Claudia pose with Sierra as Luke took pictures of them. "I'm sorry for not trusting your judgment. You were right. Claudia's a good person with even greater intentions."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that." Calum awkwardly chuckled. "Uh, apology accepted I guess."

"One question though."

"What's up?"

"Why haven't you asked her out? It's fucking obvious to the world and their dog that both of you have feelings for each other."

"She broke up with her boyfriend a few months ago. I don't wanna ask her out and potentially fuck up a good friendship."

Ashton thought back to what Claudia accidentally told him so he just nodded and said. "You'll know when the right time is."

They went back to the table. Calum pulled Claudia to a hug when he sat next to her.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here." He said, placing his arm on the back of her chair.

"Ashton convinced men with free food."

"I did what?" Ashton asked, confused.

"Yeah, you offered to pay for my food too." Michael called out while sipping his mimosa.

The brunch went by smoothly. By the end their server came by with a red velvet cake Claudia made. She showed up early and asked the manager if they could hold the cake while they ate.

Calum offered to walk Claudia back to her car since she parked the furthest. She held onto his arm cold from the breeze that blew. She knew she should have worn a jacket over her turtleneck.

"What are you doing later?" Calum asked her.

"Nothing, probably watch some tv." She said, rummaging through her bag for her keys.

"Wanna go to a concert? Management managed to get me some tickets to see Bad Bunny and since you got me into him I want to take you."

"You got tickets? I've been trying to get some for weeks."

"So that's a yes?"

"Oh my god yes!" She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you!"

They talked a bit, mostly planning out the night. Calum was picking her up a bit early so they could eat something beforehand because concessions are always a mess. As they discussed what they wanted to eat, a black Mercedes parked in front of Claudia's car, leaving her no room to get out.

"No mames," she cursed as the driver of the Benz walked past them. She smiled sweetly at Calum. "Can you pull out?"

"Pull out?" He blinked, confused.

"Like can you get my car out of the parking spot." she explained. "It's too snug for me."

"How did you even get your licence?" He asked her while taking her keys.

"I wore some shorts and a halter top." She gestured over her outfit. "You think a turtleneck and some jeans would have done the job?"

Calum shamelessly scanned her up and down, keeping his eyes on her ass for an extra second. He looked over to her and smiled. "It does the job for me."

***

"Here," Calum said, handing Claudia a flannel he had in his car. "I have a hoodie if you want."

"I'll take the flannel. You don't wear hoodies to a Bad Bunny concert." She said. She let one of the sleeves fall off her shoulder. "Also you're not getting this back. This is now my flannel."

"Oi! That's my favorite flannel."

"That's too bad." Claudia smiled as she fluffed her hair and tugged down her dress. She noticed Calum checking her out as she fixed her outfit on the car door's reflection.

"Ready?" He asked her. She nodded her response.

The arena parking lot was surprisingly packed despite the doors opening in two more hours. Calum and Claudia walked hand in hand, not wanting to get separated from each other. They went over to the line at the taco truck.

Claudia stood in front of him while they waited. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. She relaxed a bit. She wasn't used to all the touching, but she didn't mind it. Calum made her feel safe and comfortable. He didn't do anything that made her feel like he wanted more from her.

It was finally their turn to order. Calum ordered a loaded quesadilla and beer. Before Claudia even processed he was ordering her five tacos de carne asada with the toppings on the side and agua de horchata. He paid the cashier and tugged her towards a free table.

"How did you know my order?" Claudia asked, reaching for his beer and taking a sip.

"We've hung out enough times for me to remember." He shrugged. He took back his beer and drank some. "There weren't carne asada fries on the menu, and you usually order tacos when they're not listed. Plus you've said that carne asada tacos are your safest bet at a taco truck."

"Oh." Claudia quietly said, playing with the wrapper of her straw.

She felt her cheeks warm up. Someone remembering the little things about her always got to her. It made her feel seen. Especially if that someone is Calum. He's an international rockstar that knows hundreds of people and he managed to remember her taco order.

The server came by their table and dropped off their basket of food. They pointed at the salsa station that had seven different types of salsas, limes, radishes, and pickled jalapeños with carrots. Claudia got up to get salsa while Calum stayed behind with their food. He watched her look disinterested at whatever the guy that was hogging the station was telling her.

"Hey, love," Calum called out to Claudia. He held up her phone in the air. "Your mum's calling."

She walked over to him and pretended to answer the phone. "Thank you,'' she whispered.

"What salsas do you want?" he asked.

"There's a creamy green one and the one that looks like regular salsa verde." she said, nodding along to her fake phone call.

Calum squeezed her hand and went to the salsa station. The guy that was trying to talk to Claudia was already talking to another girl.

"Excuse me." he said, wedging himself between them to get to the salsas.

He returned to his table. Claudia was on her phone, frowning.

"What's wrong?" He asked, handing her the salsas.

"Danny's here and he didn't even tell me he was coming up."

"Here as in LA or…"

"He's literally here eating Korean tacos on the other side." She sighed. She bit into her taco and chewed. Covering her mouth, she said. "It's fine though. No one is fucking this night up."

***

The concert went by quickly. They ran into some of Calum's fans and he took some pictures with them. He traded the group their tickets for the box tickets management got him. They wanted to enjoy the actual concert and not get distracted with all the other activities that were the private room.

"I had fun tonight, thank you for inviting me." Claudia told Calum when they got in his car.

"There's no one I would have rather spent the night with." He said shyly.

They both let out nervous giggles. Claudia smiled softly at him and took in his scent. It is a bright and woody cologne mixed with beer someone accidentally spilled on him. It was a comforting scent, as if she was at home. She looked up at Calum, and he glanced down to her lips.

He met her eyes and pushed back some of her curls before cupping her face with one hand. He leaned and pulled her for a quick kiss. As he pulled away, Claudia pulled him back and deepened the kiss.

Without breaking their kiss, she climbed to his lap and cupped his face. Her dress rode up to her waist. Claudia sighed into Calum's lips, feeling his hands slide up her thighs to her ass. She moaned out loudly as he squeezed her ass.

She pulled away and kissed down his neck, nipping and sucking. One of her hands wandered down to his belt. In one swift moment she unbuckled his belt and undid the buttons. Before she went further, Calum's hand pushed hers away.

"As much as I want to, I don't want our first time in my car." He groaned.

But Claudia only heard 'first time.'

"Did Ashton say something?" She asked him. The last thing she wanted was for him to find out that she was a virgin through his best friend.

"What does Ash have to do with this?"

"Nothing, I'm just confused why we stopped."

"Trust me I didn't want to. But I don't want a quickie in my car to be your first impression of me."

"Oh," she said, relieved.

"Yeah…"

"Good thing you live twenty minutes away. Maybe you can impress me there." She whispered, kissing his jaw.

"Wait seriously? You want to go back to my place?"

"Yeah." She sat back in her seat and pulled down her dress. Quickly noticing that they'll be stuck in the parking lot for a while, she turned back to him. "Maybe I can impress you with my mouth while we wait to leave?"

"You mean like a—"

"A blowjob? Yes."

“I’m not one to turn down a blowie.”

***

Calum had Claudia pressed against the door. Their tongues battled to see who got the upper hand. He grabbed the back of her thighs and effortlessly picked her up. He carefully carried her up to his bedroom. There once again he backed her up against the door

She pulled away and slipped off her flannel. Claudia helped him unbutton his shirt and helped him out of the ever present black tank top he wore under it. She slid her hands over his chest and up to his face. She couldn’t believe he was in front of her.

More kisses led them to the bed. The last few layers of clothes shed as they got reacquainted with their bodies.

“Can I have a taste?” Calum whispered in her ear. Claudia looked up at him with an unreadable expression. “I don’t have to, of course. Whatever we do is up to you. If you just want to make out then we’ll just make out. But if you want to have sex, fine by me. I want you to know that you’re not obligated to do anything. We can stop and just act like—”

“Go for it.” she said, stopping him from rambling.

“Wait, seriously?” His face lit up.

“Yes.” she softly giggled.

Claudia wrapped her arms around him as she deepened the kiss. She let out a soft whine when Calum pulled away. She watched him kiss her body as he made his way down.

He looked up at her when he reached her dripping core. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

Calum placed her legs over his shoulders and gently kissed thighs purposely ignoring where she wanted him the most.

His fingers grazed her entrance, coating them with her arousal. He licked his fingers and continued to tease her. He smirked as her breathing quickened, and her soft pleas filled the room. He finally laid on his stomach and began to kiss the inside of her thighs before placing them over

his shoulders.

"Fuck." He moaned once he tasted her.

His tongue worked its wonders on Claudia. She never felt so desired. She was on edge minutes later. One of her hands

wrapped around his fresh blonde curls while the other tugged one of her breasts.

"Cal, please,” she begged.

“Gonna you use my fingers now okay?” he said.

“Just be gentle.” She said, stopping him from rambling.

“Of course.”

He kissed her thigh reassuringly. He made a show, licking his middle and ring fingers and making Claudia needy for him. Calum slid his fingers in her. He looked up and saw Claudia’s face contorted in pain.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No… a little, but it’s okay. You’re good, honest.” Claudia sait putting his mind at ease.

Calum nodded and buried his face between her thighs. He slipped his fingers inside of her once more. She squirmed at how he was thrusting his fingers in her. Then he added his thumb and slowly rubbed her clit, bringing her to her orgasm. He continued licking and thrusting his fingers into her as she came.

The tight grip on his hair loosened. Claudia sighed as Calum pulled his fingers out of her. He licked them clean and laid next to her. He turned to his side just as she did. He pushed back her curls and laid his hand on her cheek.

“I didn’t hurt you earlier, right?” He asked her softly.

“No, it kinda caught me off guard since no one’s ever done that. Overall A+.” she commented, earning a snort from him.

Calum gently pushed back and reclaimed her lips. They kissed for what seemed like forever. Not wanting her lips off away from him, he awkwardly reached over and patted around the nightstand, looking for the drawer. He pulled it out too hard and the drawer fell along with all of its content.

“Smooth.” Claudia teased.

“Shut up.” he bent down and opened the box of condoms, taking one out.

Claudia watched Calum slide the condom on himself before he got on top of her. He leaned down and captured her lips. They kissed for a while with some touches here and there.

“Calum, please do something.” Claudia whined. She reached for him and slowly pumped him.

“Eager are we, pretty girl.” He teased her. He lined himself up against her.

“Just want to get this over with.” she mumbled out loud. She cursed. “I didn’t mean like that…”

“Then how did you?”Calum got up and grabbed his boxers. “You just don’t tell someone you’re about to hook up with that you wanna get it over with, Claudia.”

“You do when it’s your first time.” She said quietly, wrapping Calum’s bed sheet around her.

Calum stood silent, processing what she said. His mind went over the little comments they said here and there throughout. Then it finally hit him.

“Claudia, are you a virgin?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it does. It makes a—”

“What, you don’t fuck virgins either?”

“What— Can we just talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about? You’re just like Paco; you want nothing to do with me because I’m a virgin.” Claudia met Calum’s eyes, hurt filled his soft brown eyes. She looked down, embarrassed at herself.

Calum is nothing like Paco.

“I’m sorry. It just all happened so quickly and I freaked out. You’re nothing like Paco, you actually like going down on me.” she added the last bit to lighten up the mood.

Calum sat next to her on the bed. He watched her pull the sheet tighter around her. She sniffled and wiped a few tears away from her cheek.

“Claudia, what really happened between you and your ex?” He asked her gently, not wanting her to feel obligated to share.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she laughed dryly. “He dumped my ass because I never put out.”

“He’s a selfish idiot.” Calum said. He pushed back some of her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry if I pressured you into something you aren’t ready for.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for not telling you that I was a virgin. I was scared that I was gonna push you away or that I’d make things awkward between us if you knew… wait I just did the latter.”

Calum snorted. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her head once more. He scratched her scalp when she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Not to one up your awkwardness but Duke has been in the room the whole time.”

Taglist: @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @spicycal @sexgodashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

#calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #calum hood angst #calum hood one shot #calum hood imagine #calum hood series #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood oneshot #calum hood one shots #calum hood imagines #el novio series #el novio quarantine edition...kinda

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

My Side

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: language, lots of smut, prostate massage, fluff, some mentions of angst (but it’s very minimal)

Genre: Marriage AU

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Y/N has had her entire future planned out ever since she could remember: step one- graduate college (done), step two- find a good-paying job (done), step three- marry someone she adores (done), and step four- have kids (???). She understands that life is full of obstacles, but is it too much to ask for your husband to finally knock you up?

A/N: Big apology to this anon user who requested this and had to wait like 8 billion years for me to finish it.

The fertility clinic was unusually cold, and I found myself shivering in direct contradiction with the sweltering summer heat collecting outside of the office building. Maybe that was the point: the doctors wanted to keep you totally alert while you waited for what seemed like hours for a standard routine visit. Because I could’ve already fallen asleep at this point - taking advantage of my day off from work to do something other than fret over the working condition of my reproductive system.

Of course, there was also the issue of my grumpy husband who had been thoroughly displeased when he found out exactly what a pap smear test implied. “He was totally checking you out when we came in,” Chan said. “Then, he insisted on sticking that thing up your vagina?”

“Oh, give it a rest, Chan,” I said. “I knew they would do that before I even came here.”

“I think he just wanted to look at your pussy,” Chan insisted. “And he did it right in front of me like I didn’t even exist!”

“You weren’t forced to stay in the room,” I pointed out, which I would’ve preferred but Chan insisted on standing over me like some kind of jealous observer who actually wanted to watch such an intimate procedure.

“Yeah, he would’ve preferred that,” Chan said, leaning further back in his chair. “How the hell is this even supposed to help us? We’ve only been trying for a few months.”

“Well, I want to make sure everything is working properly,” I said, and (just to spite him) I glanced down at his crotch. “What if you’re having performance issues, honey?”

“My dick works just fine,” Chan insisted. “But you know what? I think it’s partially your fault that we can’t pregnant. You’re putting too much pressure on him and it’s hard for me to focus.”

“Him?” I questioned with a grin. "Do you really want to personify your penis?”

“That’s not the point!” Chan exclaimed. “Did you even hear me, Y/N?”

“But what is the point, Chan? What exactly are you having trouble focusing on?” I asked. “We’re talking about fucking, not a tax audit. Keep the office out of our bedroom.”

“You don’t think I know the difference?”

“Apparently not since it requires more effort than necessary for you to orgasm,” I screeched, barely getting the words out before the doctor’s return.

Immediately, Chan and I were both forced smiles, pretending like we weren’t just having a pointless argument. “Well,” the doctor said. “Everything is fine on your end, Mrs. Bang. I guess that means we can perform some tests on your husband.”

“Oh, that would be great,” I said, even as Chan shifted restlessly from next to me. “Is there anything you need?”

“We’d like to ask you for a sperm sample,” the doctor replied while handing Chan a clear, transparent plastic cup that he accepted with obvious hesitation. “I’ll give you some time.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at Chan who was glaring at the cup as if personally offended by its presence.

But at least he waited until the doctor was gone before looking at me with wide eyes. “What do I do?” Chan asked, holding up the plastic cup while appearing thoroughly taken aback.

“It’s just masturbating,” I hissed at him.

“They want me to jerk off into this cup?” Chan gasped like the idea was so totally perplexing to him.

“How else will they get a sperm sample?” I asked him, rolling my eyes because I was growing impatient.

But Chan still hesitated, using one hand to hold the cup while his other traveled down to the front of his jeans. “Do I just...”

“Yes!” I shouted while standing up from my chair. “It’s nothing hard, Chan, you’ve been masturbating since 9th grade!”

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing to do it here,” Chan argued, and I sighed for what had to be the thousandth time that day.

“There’s a curtain for privacy,” I said, reaching for my bag from the floor. “I’ll be waiting outside until you’re done.”

“Y/N!” Chan whined, but I left without another word, hoping that Chan could get his shit together because I was exhausted and the prospect of the bed waiting for me at home was suddenly everything that I wanted.

It turned out that Chan and I were both perfectly healthy, and there should be nothing impeding my ability to finally get pregnant. Chan even managed to smile after our doctor complimented his sperm because they were powerful swimmers or whatever the hell that meant. But that had also been hours ago, and after a well-deserved nap, I was feeling exceptionally horny. Thankfully, Chan was never the type to turn down sex, and a few innocent kisses had turned into a full-blown pornography session within moments of me circling my hips against the front of his jeans.

“Fuck me, Chan,” I said, and he nodded eagerly as we both helped each other escape the obstacle of our clothes.

“You should apologize to my dick first,” Chan said teasingly when he had me spread open in front of him, fisting his cock as he started jerking himself off.

“What? Why?”

“You questioned my performance earlier,” Chan said with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe my cock isn’t good enough for you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, whining when I tried to wrap my hand around the base of his erection, only to have Chan knock it away with a sharp growl. "Alright!” I groaned. “I’m sorry I questioned your all-powerful shaft, okay? So, can you please just fuck me already?”

Chan chuckled at my easy compliance, and he ran his thumb across the slit of his cock before positioning himself at my wet entrance. “Remember that next time, Y/N,” he said, exhaling shakily when he started to push inside.

“Shit!” I cried, reaching out for his broad shoulders as I held on as tight as possible for the ride waiting ahead of me.

“Such a tight cunt,” Chan remarked, pausing a moment to grind himself against my insides just to feel the pressure around his cock.

“Go faster,” I requested, throwing my head back when he complied, smacking his hips into mine as he searched for the perfect angle to leave me seeing stars.

“Yeah?” Chan purred, and he started thrusting faster than before, dragging his cock against the pulsating walls of my cunt, forcing more arousal to leak out around him. “Look at how good you always take my cock, baby.”

I reveled in the praise, craning my neck to the side just so that I could watch him disappear inside of me over and over again to match the sensation of his thick cock filling me up so well that it was almost mind-numbingly good. The best part was the pleasing sound of Chan’s moans, and I admired the way that he held himself up over me so that his muscles were practically bulging as he rolled his hips with seductive grinds. Meanwhile, I was drooling over the visual of his bulging biceps, whining underneath him because Chan was being unusually rough. Not that I would ever complain since every thrust managed to brush the tip of his cock perfectly against my cervix.

But it was only after Chan reached down to add a finger to the already tight fit of his cock inside my pussy that I remembered something that I had read on the internet as part of my endless pregnancy research. My eyes flew open at the reminder, and the lustful haze surrounding my sex-addled brain quickly vanished. “Hold on, Chan,” I said, pushing against his chest and disrupting the steady rhythm he had been maintaining.

“W-what?” Chan stuttered, pulling out while watching me roll over onto my stomach.

“This is a better position,” I said, raising my ass high into the air before giving him a teasing wiggle.

“Whatever,” Chan grunted, still too gone in his pleasure to care that much about my shenanigans. He immediately caged me in with his thighs, fumbling with his erect cock before aligning the tip with my aching cunt. I was relieved when he started jostling his cock back where it belonged, meandering in elegant strokes that resulted in the best friction.

“Make sure you come,” I told him while decorating the pale skin of his shoulders with nail marks as I reached behind me.

“You first,” Chan insisted, and my heart warmed at his selflessness even while it felt like all the blood inside of me was rushing south, moving through my veins and spilling over with a rapid descent that left me seeing white while Chan moved even quicker, thrusting like a man deprived.

I felt him come only moments later with the familiar heat that I had grown to appreciate more and more over the last few months. Thereafter, I immediately reached for a pillow from behind me, wincing at the sensitivity that lingered between my legs. “What are you doing?” Chan asked when he collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s supposed to help,” I said, raising my hips to place the pillow directly underneath me. “This article said that raising your legs after sex can improve your chances.”

“That seems ridiculous, Y/N,” Chan said.

“Hey! Blame your sperm,” I countered. “It’s not my fault they need an extra boost.”

“My sperm are just fine,” Chan grunted. “You heard the doctor. They’re excellent swimmers.”

“This is just a precaution,” I told him, sighing in relief when I reached down to cup my heat, ensuring that all of Chan’s cum stayed inside where it belonged.

For the past several weeks, work had become something of a chore that I was forced to endure on a regular basis. It was often a struggle to force my way through piles of paperwork or tedious emails that always said much of the same thing. After a while, I would find myself glaring at the clock because I was quite certain that time was moving slow for the sole purpose of annoying me.

There was also the issue of dealing with my colleagues, especially the ones who liked to gossip and had effectively made a whole thing out of my failed attempts at pregnancy. “Oh, Y/N,” they would tell me. “It’s been three months, hasn’t it?”

Like they didn’t have anything better to do with their lives besides meddle in mine. But the worst of them all were the ones who decided that they were some kind of authority figures and tried to give me helpful “advice.” Everything from the shit that I had already heard from my doctor and the articles online, to bizarre practices that left me wondering where they found their information.

My manager’s personal assistant was a frequent advocate. She was far more insistent than the rest of them because she already had two kids at home who she described as future Mozarts in the making. And because she had already been successful (twice, I might add), she always sat next to me at lunch with a new suggestion that supposedly guaranteed fertilization.

“It could be that he’s under too much pressure,” she told me before biting into her salad.

“I’m asking him to have sex with me, not invent a new computer,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve both been having a lot of sex, which might seem like a good idea,” she continued. “But it might actually turn out to be far worse.”

“What do you suggest then? Should I kick him out of the bedroom for a week or two?” I snarked, but she was hardly bothered by my sarcastic attitude.

“My husband and I tried stimulating him more directly,” she explained. “Maybe you could try it out.”

“How so?”

“It’s something like a prostate massage,” she revealed in a hushed tone as if it was top-secret information. “There’s all kinds of information about it on the internet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, wanting nothing more than to brush aside her words, but maybe I was too desperate because I found myself skimming through countless articles after lunch, soaking in the vast amounts of information that I uncovered.

And I left the office that day with a new strategy in mind to surprise my husband.

The moment I first walked through the door, I was yanking off my jacket and calling for Chan who ducked his head out of our bedroom. “Why the hell are you yelling?”

“Because I have a wonderful idea,” I said, practically skipping over to him and offering him a deep kiss.

“Y/N,” Chan murmured against my touch, grabbing my shoulders to pull me back. “What are you going on about?”

“Just take your stupid clothes off,” I said, skirting past him into the bedroom. “I want you naked on the bed.”

“You’re already horny?” Chan chuckled, but he made no protest of yanking his shirt over his head.

“I want to try something,” I told him, opening the door to our closet to search for something that we hadn’t used together in a long time.

“Should I be afraid?” Chan asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he fisted his half-hard erection.

“Not if you have an open mind,” I said, turning around to hold up the bottle of lube, and Chan’s smile instantly vanished.

“What’s that for?”

“Well, tonight I’m using it on you,” I said, laughing at the way his forehead creased in confusion. “My co-worker actually made a pretty useful recommendation today.”

“Okay?...” Chan trailed off with an expression of perfect concentration - like he was doing his absolute best to understand.

“The internet called it prostate milking,” I explained, biting my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at the horrified expression on Chan’s face. “I want to stimulate your prostate.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Chan asked.

“Look, it has a lot of medical benefits,” I said. “Plus, I read that it can feel really good.”

Chan squired anxiously on the bed when I sat down next to him, and I could see that his cock was perfectly flaccid between his legs. “I don’t know, Y/N-”

“Don’t worry,” I interrupted him. “This is perfectly normal. Now, be a good boy for me and get on your hands and knees.”

Chan frowned. “Good boy?” he grumbled before obeyed my command, crawling his way up the bed to position himself in the way I had suggested.

“There we go,” I said, softly running a hand down his spine.

“So far, I’m not impressed,” Chan muttered.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” I said, situating myself behind him before palming his ass. “This looks better than I remember, Channie.”

“Yeah, I guess the squats helped,” Chan said, and he flinched when I snapped a glove in place over my right hand. “What’s that for?”

“You think I’m gonna mess around your ass without a glove?” I snorted. “That’s not very hygienic.”

“Hygienic, yeah, okay,” Chan huffed, and he let out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt when I opened the bottle of lube and drizzled some on my fingertips.

“Hold still,” I said, trying to get him to relax when my finger started circling his asshole, pushing against the tight muscle which wasn’t so easy to penetrate. However, with enough perseverance, I forced one finger inside and heard Chan release a rather unattractive sound.

“How does it feel?” I asked him, trying to move my finger around like I had read online.

“It just feels like you’ve shoved your finger up my ass,” Chan snapped, and I knew not to take it personally since he wasn’t so willing to go along with my crazy scheme in the first place.

“Don’t be so tense,” I said, rubbing my hand along his lower back. “Should I use more lube?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N,” Chan groaned, and I could tell that he was growing frustrated.

I was also losing confidence - wondering if this had been a bad idea because it definitely wasn’t as easy as my co-worker promised. Plus, I could tell that Chan was uncomfortable, squirming around under me while his cock hung limply between his legs. Clearly, he wasn’t finding any pleasure from this, and maybe it was entirely my fault for jumping into this without more preparation.

“Shit, Chan,” I said, removing my finger while releasing a sigh. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done this.”

I cleared my throat, feeling increasingly anxious when Chan refused to respond to my apology. He was still supporting himself on his hands in front of me, chest heaving up and down with each breath. I could see that the bright red tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment and that only made me feel worse because the last thing I wanted to do was make this bad for him.

Eventually, Chan rolled off to the side of the bed, collecting his sweatpants from the floor before walking into the bathroom. I closed my eyes when the door slammed behind him, and I quietly left the bedroom to give Chan some privacy because it was obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the situation.

So much for my co-worker’s stupid suggestion.

However, in the grand scheme of things, I was always the first to recognize when my actions warranted reprimand.

After sleeping on the couch in the living room, I woke-up with a sore lower back and a guilty conscious. Chan had already left for work that morning, and he probably hadn’t paid me a single glance. But I probably deserved his wrath, which meant I would do everything that I could to make it up to him.

Consequently, I found myself flashing a bright smile at Chan’s office secretary who greeted me politely before calling Chan’s phone to see if he had some time to see me. There was a small part of me which worried that Chan might send me away because of last night’s events. Thankfully, his secretary waved me inside and I took a deep breath before opening the door while carrying the packed lunch I prepared for him.

Once inside, Chan offered me a cursory glance that only lasted a brief moment until his attention was once again focused on the file in front of him. “Channie,” I said, wincing at my shrill tone. “I brought you some lunch.”

I hesitated when Chan didn’t respond - walking over to his desk to carefully deposit the bag on his desk. I waited for a brief moment, but Chan refused to acknowledge me, which meant I needed to approach him more directly. “I’m sorry about last night, Channie,” I said, coming around his desk to perch myself on the edge. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m also sorry about the past few months because I’ve been so desperate to finally have my positive pregnancy test that I started to really neglect you.”

The pen Chan had been writing with stopped in the middle of whatever sentence he had been writing, and my husband finally allowed me the privilege of looking into his dark brown eyes. “It’s hard for me to stay mad at you, Y/N,” Chan said, and I nearly burst into tears at the simple declaration.

“You deserve to be mad at me,” I said. “I can’t believe you let me get away with acting like this. You should get the husband of the year award or whatever.”

Chan chuckled, tossing his pencil aside. “Sweetheart, I know how much this means to you, and I want it just as much, but maybe it would be nice if we could be intimate sometimes without worrying about whether or not we’re following all those advice columns you read.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, and I pushed myself away from the edge of the desk and fell onto my knees in front of him - reaching out to grab his thighs between my hands. “What if I blew you right here in the office?”

Chan’s answering moan was enough to solidify my resolve, and I easily worked apart the belt fastening around his suit pants. My fingers worked with an experienced touch because this wasn’t the first time we had done something like this in his big executive office and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Fuck, Y/N,” Chan said, grabbing large handfuls of my hair while directing my lips closer to his exposed cock-head.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” I said, offering a tentative lick to his pulsating tip. Chan was already hard, and I gave him a few strokes with my hand before allowing my mouth to take care of the rest - opening wide to take him as deep as I could without gagging.

“Look at you,” Chan snarled, and his fingers traced the seam of my lips stretched obscenely around his cock.

I moaned around his erection, and Chan closed his eyes as he fingers tightened their hold - hips moving every so often to force his cock even further down my throat. But I’m sure it made for one hell of a visual, and I hollowed my cheeks as I ran my tongue across the distinct vein trailing along the underside.

“Keep going,” Chan said, and I could tell that he was close. And I started bobbing my head up and down, mimicking the same effect of his cock fucking my pussy, relaxing my throat and encouraging Chan to do whatever he needed to push himself over the edge.

He eventually came with an exaggerated groan, and I wrinkled my nose at the taste of him. Yet, I knew better than to let anything go to waste, and I struggled around the rawness of my throat as I swallowed - swiping my tongue around the head of his spent cock to clean up the excess.

“Was it good?” I asked him with a hoarse voice.

“Of course it was,” Chan replied, encouraging me off the floor and into his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as I listened to his heart slow back down to normal. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, teasing his lips across mine. “You’re not gonna freak out over the fact that we just wasted my perfectly good semen?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully hitting his shoulder. “It’s never a waste if it makes you come like that.”

He smiled, bringing out the fullness of his dimples, and we sat together while Chan ate his lunch and I mindlessly talked about the latest office gossip. It was moments like these that I loved more than anything about my marriage to Chan - pregnancy be damned. Ironically, it was only a few weeks later that I found myself looking down at a thin white strip with a blue cross displayed across the surface: positive.

#stayverse #skzsmutnetwork #skzwriternet #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan fanfic #chan fanfic #skz chan fanfic #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #skz fluff #skz reader insert

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overdramatic-queer-antagonist · 3 years

Text

Mick Mercury's Failed Attempt At Espionage

Summary: Mick Mercury was easily the most incompetent person Peter had ever met, and it infuriated him how long it took for them to be introduced. Notes: There is a severe lack of Mick Mercury in Season 3, and that will not stand, so I put him in.

Read it on Ao3

Fic:

"JJ! Hey! JJ! Hello? Can you hear me?"

Peter would not have made any connection to the aforementioned 'JJ,' and Juno Steel had he not been glowering at the petulant ex-detective when the unfamiliar man called out and seen how Juno had tensed at the voice.

The large man made a noise of annoyance, and oh God, he's walking towards Juno. Peter wasn't worried for the lady, he was wholly aware Juno knew how to handle himself, but Peter had yet to foresee an outcome of this conversation that didn't blow their cover.

"Juno Steel!" the man yelled as Juno continued to ignore him.

It was, unfortunately, very clear who he was addressing, and the woman Juno had been flirting with gave him a confused look. Peter would be lying if that didn't please him ever so slightly, but, as always, he filed that feeling away for later and went to save Juno's ass.

"Dear," Peter called out, attempting to get into the act of a doting husband, which had recently become much more difficult for him. Juno glanced at him appreciatively and went to stand at his side, where Peter promptly put an arm around his waist.

“You gave me a bit of a scare Mercury,” Juno said, looking at Peter for confirmation he wasn’t being dumb. Peter nodded ever so slightly as permission to continue. “Haven’t heard my maiden name in a while, no one’s called me that- well- since the wedding!” Juno forced a laugh that sounded more nervous than casual, but the woman he was talking with looked like she understood which- okay. That bothered Peter because that meant she was okay with flirting with a married man, but whatever, filed away.

“Wedding?” Mercury yelled. “JJ, You never told me anything about any wedding.”

“Listen, Mick, I know you're upset, but can we talk in private,” Juno’s eyes flickered to the woman he’d been speaking with, and Mick- Mick Mercury. What a fucking name- nodded. Juno led Mercury to a private corner of the ballroom, and Peter followed automatically. Mick gave Juno a look, but Juno returned it with one of his own, and Mick dropped whatever he was thinking. Peter couldn’t decide if it was frustrating or charming that they could hold a conversation without speaking. He settled on frustrating, simply because they were clearly close, and Juno had never thought to mention him. Granted, Peter wasn’t sure why that frustrated him, but it did. Another thing to file away.

The exact second they’d arrived at their designated corner, Mick spun on his feet. “Okay, what the hell, J? I always thought when you got married I’d at least get invited! I mean, obviously, I thought Benten or- hell, even Sasha would be man/maid of honor, but I thought I’d get an invite!” Juno tensed at the mention of Benzaiten, and Peter subconsciously put a hand on his lower back. Juno tensed more at this, but after a moment, relaxed. Mick continued on, oblivious. “And come on Juno, how long have you ever known this guy? We saw each other recently, and you didn’t even think to mention him?! I mean, I know we’ve grown apart since I almost got you killed by a serial killer lady, but come on, man!”

Juno gave Mick an incredulous look. “Okay, first of all, last time we saw each other, a robot made you try to kill me, not exactly the best time to bring it up. Second-”

“Second…” Peter interrupted before he, himself knew what he was doing. “We’ve known each other for three years. And my apologies for the lack of notice, Mick. See, I lead a very dangerous life, and my lady and I thought it safer to keep knowledge of my existence away from anyone who wasn’t trained in combat. And also Rita, but mainly because she tapped Juno’s comms and listened in on a very…”

“Oh my god!”

“Sorry, dear. I forgot how easily flustered you are.”

Mick gave Peter an appraising look for a second before deciding the answer was good enough for him and moving on. “So if you live such a dangerous life,” he lowered his voice to a -frankly terrible- whisper, “Then what are you doing here?”

Peter lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I really shouldn’t tell you this but, we’re on a secret mission. ‘Above Dark Matters’ secret. How about you?” This was a ridiculous cover, but he’d gotten away with stranger, besides, he was a little distracted by the woman Juno had been speaking to, looking their way, hungrily, no doubt at his companion. Peter’s grip around Juno tightened, and, to his surprise, Juno leaned into it.

“Really? Above Dark Matters? Juno, that’s great! Wow, Sasha must’ve flipped when you told her!”

“I didn’t Mercury, that’s what secret means. And I didn’t tell her about the mister either, and if you do, I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Good. Hey, my husband asked a good question, why are you here?”

“I thought it might be good to get off of Mars after the whole Newtown debacle, so I got a job at a catering company, and then I got fired for eating all of the cupcakes, so I decided to join the party, and they haven’t noticed yet.”

Juno snickered. "Glad to see you're back to normal."

"Yeah, me too. Being responsible was exhausting, even with the good habits some of it brought. Anyways, I'll get back to the party, let you two plan out your secret mission," Mick finished that statement walking backward and, when it was finished, promptly ran into a plant.

"What was that about?" Juno asked. "I mean, I get that you had to lie to him, but why... That?"

"Why did you leave me in that hotel room?" Peter asked. He'd meant it as a joke, at Juno's expense, of course, but it came off a bit more genuine than he would have liked.

Juno flinched, and for a moment, all Peter wanted to do was sweep him up in a hug, apologize for bringing it up and move on, but Peter was allowed to be angry. After what felt like an eternity but was probably 5 seconds tops, Juno spoke, "We need to talk about that eventually. You know. If we're gonna be working together."

"And we will, Dear Detective, but not right now. I believe the bidding is starting soon."

---

The bidding did not go as planned. While Peter would like to claim it was entirely the fault of his accomplice, he would be dishonest if he did so, and Peter Nureyev lied to many people, but not himself. Mostly.

Their new plan was as followed, Juno would continue to distract Ms. Zolotovna -the woman, who'd been eyeing him all night- and Peter would swipe it while nobody- not even the cameras- was looking. The first flaw of this plan came from one Mick Mercury, who was really starting to piss Peter off.

Mick had cornered him while he was making his rounds to destroy all the cameras.

"Hey! Uh... I never got your name, but Juno's husband!"

Peter turned around a little more aggressively than he meant to. "Yes?" He asked, already on his last nerve.

"I- uhh... listen, bud, this conversation is gonna be real awkward if you don't give me something to call you."

Peter quickly scanned his brain for a moniker he'd used with Juno, one that the lady may have mentioned to Mick in passing but not have gone into too much detail. There was only one with the chance of fitting the bill. "Rex. My name is Rex."

Mick's eyes lit up with recognition, and Peter immediately regretted his decision to use a name that had been plastered all over Hyperion to a native of the area. But there didn't seem to be any panic in Mick's eyes. Just... worry.

"Listen," Mick said, more serious than he had been all night. "I don't wanna give you some shovel talk. I'm sure you already got that from Rita." Peter had, which was strange considering Juno swore up and down that he never mentioned their past relationship. "But I just want you to know that, when all that went down, and you left, you really broke his heart. So just- be careful this time, okay? You and I both know he's more delicate than he lets on, and I can tell from the way you look at him that you love him, so just don't mess it up. Please?"

There was a definite moment where Peter stopped breathing until he remembered Juno and he were posing as newlyweds. He then forced his well-practiced laugh and asked, "Am I that obvious?"

"Yeah, like the way you were glaring at Ms. Zolotovna? You looked like you wanted to kill her! Oh! But you don't have to worry about that. Juno looked like he was just as close to killing her as you were, and I don't think he's ever cheated in his life. Well, there was that one time, in second grade when he-"

Mercury went on rambling for a while. He and Rita would get along swimmingly. Not that Peter was paying attention. No, he was far too busy staring into space. Apparently, Mick thought he was jealous of Ms. Zolotovna. Which, of course, couldn't be farther from the truth. He'd just been bothered that Juno would allow himself to become so distracted, that was all... Mostly.

Looking at him with Zolotovna felt wrong. Of course, it felt wrong, Peter tried to convince himself. Once upon a time, he had been in love with Juno. Even if those feelings had since dissipated it still made his stomach churn to think of Juno with anyone else. Maybe that wasn't healthy. Peter was starting to think maybe Juno was right about them needing to talk. But now was not the time nor the place for a heart. Just another thing for him to file away.

Right, Mercury was talking to him. God, Peter really needed to swipe that map so they could get out of there. "Well, Mick. I can assure you, I'd sooner die than hurt Juno. Will that be all?"

Mick seemed to have been interrupted mid-sentence, but he was friends with Juno, so Peter assumed he was used to it. "Oh! No, Juno wanted me to go get you for your-" he dropped his voice to a stage whisper "-secret-ay mission-ay."

Peter's brain stopped for a solid second. "Was that- was that meant to be Pig Latin?"

"No," Mick said, winking dramatically.

Peter followed Mick, a tad bit shaken by the implication that Mick Mercury didn't know what Pig Latin was in the slightest until the pair eventually reached Juno.

"Took you long enough, what? Were you stuck in a flowerpot?" The lady asked when they'd reached him.

Peter laughed, not entirely sure who the question was directed at. "Mick tells me you have a plan?"

"Not a plan, an observation. There's a camera trained on the map, one which you won't have time to dismantle before the dance begins in-" Juno looked at the grand clock in the center of the room "-4 minutes."

Peter grimaced in thought before eventually coming up with a solution. "Mick, when I give you a signal, try to get caught. Juno and I'll give you a lift back to Mars."

Peter was expecting some resistance from Mick, but he just nodded enthusiastically, "Okay, Rex. Uhh... I'm not really used to all this spy stuff. What's the signal?"

Peter only thought for a moment before coming up with an answer, "I'll trip on my heels."

Juno laughed, "Babe, that's a shit idea. What if you actually trip?"

Peter pointedly ignored the feeling in his chest when Juno called him 'babe' and instead responded, "I don't trip, dear."

Juno blushed and began to argue before being interrupted as the dance began. Peter silently held his hand out for Juno to take, and the lady barely hesitated before taking it.

Once they were far enough from Mick, Juno began to snicker softly to himself.

"What?"

"Feeling nostalgic, Rex?"

Peter laughed along with him. "What? It's the only name I could imagine you bringing up. Granted, I didn't expect it to stick with Mercury, but uh... I'm-"

"Don't. At least you had a reason. I was just scared."

"Of what?"

"Later, Nureyev," Juno whispered.

As they walked onto the dance floor, Peter could almost laugh with delight. Zolotovna hadn't been tracking his companion this entire night. She'd been tracking him. Maybe that said something about his self-confidence, maybe it said something about his affection for Juno, or maybe all it said was he would not make a very good detective. Either way, there would be a slight change in their normal routine.

"Juno, I do believe you'll have to be the one to swipe the map, someone seems to be watching me."

'Ugh! She's still doing it? That's messed up. Like our cover is as a married couple, and she has no problem making goo-goo eyes at you!"

Peter laughed, "Madam Dauphine, are you jealous?"

Juno gave him a smirk, "Of course not, Monsieur Dauphine. I know you have better taste than that."

"I must've if I married you."

Juno gave him a smile. Not the snarky one Peter'd been expecting. A soft smile, one full of admiration. Peter remembered this smile, right after they'd stopped Miasma, and Juno miraculously survived, bleeding from one eye and looking at Peter as if he'd been the one locking himself in a room about to explode.

"What's with that look?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," Juno said. "I just forgot how fun it is to work with you when you aren't pretending to be someone else."

Peter grinned at Juno as they separated. Him going to distract Zolotovna, Juno going to swipe a billion-dollar artifact.

---

Their plan had gone off without a hitch, Zolotovna was rambling on with some love confession, or the other, and Peter was pretending to listen, watching in awe as Juno gracefully swiped their prize from behind his glasses. Peter had come up with some logical reason to reject Zolotovna, guessing she wouldn't be all too satisfied with the excuse of "I'm happily married," something about organized crime. He doesn't remember. Even managed to get a little over a billion creds from her.

He then made his way over to Juno. Planning on waiting a few minutes to escape into the crowd before signaling Mercury. And as he made his way to Juno, a golden goddess, a perfect image of beauty and grace, with his dark brown skin and curly hair and the scars scattered across his skin. Peter did the unthinkable. He tripped. Too distracted by the image in front of him to notice his misstep. That is until Mercury started taunting the guards.

Then he, Juno, and Mercury were running across the yard to where Jet was waiting with the car. At some point, Peter's arm had ended up around Juno's waist, likely when he nearly fell over trying to throw his heels off and grabbed onto Peter for stability. They finally reached the car, and Juno threw open the door, the three of them clamoring in at top speed.

"Hello, Ransom, Juno. Who's this?" Jet asked in the same deadpan tone, as always.

"We'll tell you later, now fucking drive!" Juno rushed, a little breathless.

"Alright, then. Buckle your seatbelts."

"Go!"

---

When they got back to the ship, Buddy spent approximately 30 minutes rotating between tearing Peter and Juno to shreds for their performance and greeting Mick and asking if he was staying for dinner. She did, however, agree to bring Mick back to Mars before making their way to their next mission.

Later, Peter and Buddy had a much kinder conversation. One that brought up an emotion that Peter had not felt in a very long time. Familial love. He would try not to think too much of it, but an undeniable comfort had begun to settle into Peter's stomach.

There was another knock on the door after she left, and he already knew who it was. Finally, after nearly a year, it was later.

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #tpp season 3 #tpp fic #tpp nureyev #peter nureyev #tpp juno #juno steel #junoverse #tpp mick #mick mercury #jupeter

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gallavictorious · 3 years

Text

Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It / Rewrite

Right, so fix-its aren’t so much my jam, but there is this one weird, weird, weird thing that I’ve (so far) been unable to meta into any sort of sense. Namely, Mickey looking like that in season 11 while apparently not working out. It’s just… uh… he… what? At one point I hypothesized that he’s been bitten by a radioactive spider or the like, leaving him magically super buff, and to be honest, that’s still the most reasonable explanation I can think of, soooo…

Today I'm back at my nonsense to bring you, everyone and especially our dear @gallavichthings, 2,711 Very Serious words about Mickey being a secret superhero. Well. Except for the hero bit.

Read it below or on AO3.

---

In Which Mickey Milkovich Does Not Save the World

Afterwards, he would always refer to it as the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell, but the truth is that Mickey never saw the thing that got him.

He was going about his business (namely poking around the Gallagher basement for any forgotten shit he could sell for beer money now that all the cash from the wedding had been surreptitiously replaced with I.O.U:s) when he felt a sudden, sharp pain just above his ankle. Cursing up a storm, he desperately waved his foot around and lost his balance and stumbled straight into one of the many piles of boxes that littered the basement. By the time he was back on his feet whatever creature that had dug its nasty little teeth/pincers/claws into his tender flesh had scurried off, leaving Mickey with a throbbing ache and a halfway impressive puncture wound on his left leg.

Muttering darkly about fucking Gallaghers being so used Frank they didn’t know how to keep goddamned monster vermin out of their shitty house Mickey limped up the stairs to pour some Jamison on the wound, and then pour some down his throat because he had the bottle out already so he might as well. He borrowed one of Franny’s colourful pirate-patterned band-aids, and when his nosy as fuck ex-EMT of a husband asked about it later that evening Mickey said he’d dropped a can on his foot, it’s just a scratch, man, no you don’t need to take a look at it, just put your fingers back in my ass, please.

Mickey didn’t make a habit of lying to Ian, but he figured that telling the truth would lead to all sorts of questions about why he was in the basement and having to come up with plausible explanation for that when he should just be focusing on getting railed wasn’t part of his plans for the evening. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Ian, who’d been getting so worked up over money lately, to distract him with that sort of unimportant stuff while they were banging. Mickey was a considerate spouse.

Thankfully, Ian dropped the subject and proceeded to do his husbandly duty. Mickey went to sleep deeply satisfied.

He was almost as satisfied the next morning when he woke up to realize that the pain in his leg was gone, as were all traces of the wound itself. Mickey had always healed pretty fast, but this was quick enough to have him questioning whether or not he’d really been bitten/stung/whatever at all. Maybe he’d had more beers than he thought and imagined the whole thing… ?

It didn’t really matter, and if that had been the whole of it Mickey was likely to soon have forgotten all about the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell. However, in the next few weeks he started noticing stuff, weird stuff. For instance, it wasn’t just the (possibly imagined) bite/sting that healed far more quickly than normal; it was all the little cuts and scrapes he tended to acquire. A big bruise from running into the table while playing with Franny; faded to nothing the next morning. A cut from the razor; gone within the hour. For the first time he could remember, Mickey looked at his naked body in the mirror and saw not one single wound (though there were still scars aplenty). It wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but it was weird.

Then there was that thing with his muscles. Mickey had been in decent shape for most of his life and whenever he got locked up for extended periods of time he made a habit of hitting the gym on the regular. Really wasn’t much else to do in the joint, and having a decent bulk reminded the other inmates that you weren’t someone they could push around; letting people know that you could beat the shit out of them often meant you didn’t have to actually do it, which saved everyone a lot of time and energy and trips to the prison quack. But on the outside, exercise wasn’t very high on Mickey’s list of priorities, meaning he tended to slim down a bit after a while in freedom.

Not now, though. Almost a year after being out of prison, and he was still as built as ever; if anything he seemed to be developing more muscles, in spite rarely engaging in anything more taxing than vigorous fucking. (Okay, so there was a lot of vigorous fucking, but still. If anyone ought to be building their biceps from the sex they were having, it should be Ian.)

Mickey didn’t mind being inexplicably ripped, though. He felt great, looked great – and Ian seemed to be pretty into it, too. Then again, Ian seemed to be pretty into Mickey whether he wore dirty clothes, sported a beard, sported a dress, or hadn’t showered in a week, so maybe that wasn’t saying a lot.

But even given all that, maybe Mickey still wouldn’t have thought too much about it (he was, after all, very busy being on his honeymoon, which required lots of determined sleep-ins, dedicated beer-drinking, and – obviously – lots and lots of banging) if there hadn’t one day come a knock on the front door. At first he ignored itm in the hopes that someone else would get it, but when it became apparent that a, he was alone in the house, and b, whoever was at the door wasn’t giving up anytime soon, he grabbed the family baseball bat (even big soft ass Larry would react to Mickey opening the door with an extremely illegal gun in hand) and went to answer the insistent knocking.

Outside stood two women, looking an unsettling mix of sober and apprehensive and eager. One of them reminded him vaguely of Angie Zago; the other was taller and darker and quite possibly brooding.

“Can I help you?” he demanded, not quite as rudely as he might have. He didn’t think they were social workers, but one never knew; they’d been checking up on Debbie and Franny ever since Debbie pleaded guilty to statutory rape.

“Mr. Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich?” Not-Angie inquired in a polite sort of tremble.

“Who’s asking?” Mickey demanded, feeling a little thrown by the use of his full name. The only people who pulled that out was law enforcement, and neither of these ladies had that feel about them. Especially since they seemed to be… excited to meet him, which wasn’t a reaction Mickey was used to getting. Particularly not from ladies looking like they ought to be out collecting for the fucking Red Cross.

They better not be asking for donations for the Red Cross.

“I’m Tania and this is Dreamweaver,” Not-Angie said. “Can we come in? It’s really best if we talk in private.”

Mickey didn’t move. “Dreamweaver? You kick your mama too many times in the kidneys before you were born or something?”

The women glanced uncertainly at each other. “Mr. Milkovich,” the one improbably called Dreamweaver began, but Mickey cut her off:

“You with the police?”

They quickly shook their heads. “No, we— “

“You here to give me money?”

“No, you see, it’s— “

“Okay, thank you, bye.” But as he moved to close the door, Tania – displaying more spunk than he’d have given her credit for – took a step forward and blocked the entrance.

“Have you been experiencing any strange body phenomena lately, Mr. Milkovich?” she blurted. “Wounds healing very quickly, perhaps, or increased muscle mass?”

Mickey stilled, eyes darting between the two women. Small, small smiles on their faces now, as if they knew they had him. There was a hint of hunger to those smiles, making Mickey feel uncharacteristically uncomfortable. The urge to push Tania back and slam the door shut was strong, but…

“Fine,” he said at long last. “Come on in.”

They better not be fucking cannibals either.

---

They called themselves The Guardians, and they wanted him to save the world.

Mickey asked what numbers they were talking and, after getting bored of their uncomprehending stares, clarified: “How much is it gonna pay? What’s my cut?”

Dreamweaver frowned. “You mean… money? As in a… salary?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s my salary?”

“Mr. Milkovich, saving the world is a higher calling and a duty, it’s not something that– “

“Uh-huh. So, just to be clear, you’re not gonna pay me?”

They weren’t. Mickey laughed in their faces, stood from the couch, and told them bye and good luck with that and don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.

They reasoned with him. They pleaded. They explained, again and again, that after the evil society USCH destroyed The Guardian’s headquarters in a devastating attack, the two of them–and Mickey–was the only thing standing between the world and utter destruction. Surely, he must understand that it was nothing less than Fate that had brought the one remaining Bestower Bot into the Gallagher basement and his path? Admittedly, injecting Mickey with the bio enhancer might have been the result of a malfunction – Tania and Dreamweaver had found the bot dead down the street a couple of nights ago – but didn’t he see that he had been called to serve as a warrior in the fight against evil?

“Yeah, no thanks,” Mickey told them, and then he picked up the bat and waved it around until they took the hint and left.

When Ian returned home a few hours later, Mickey carefully didn’t mention the curious visit or any of what Tania and Dreamweaver had told him. Ian was pretty into saving people and had all these lame ideas about service and honor, and Mickey found it more likely than not that his husband would both be upset that Mickey, rather than Ian himself, had been called as a warrior (it’d be Lip and West Point all over again, Mickey just knew it), and demand that Mickey answer the call and run off like some loon to get himself killed by evil technomancers.

Mickey didn’t particularly feel like dying and he didn’t like the idea of hurting his husband’s feelings either, so he kept his mouth shut and skillfully derailed all of Ian’s attempts at asking about his day by giving him a blow job, teasing him about being a grunt, and allowing himself to be wrestled to the floor when Ian decided he’d had enough of teasing. It was a good evening.

As he lay in bed that night, back against Ian’s chest and with those strong arms wrapped around him, Mickey wondered if it would be worth risking Ian’s reaction by going public. Okay, Tania and Dreamweaver had mentioned how he’d probably gotten a pretty small dose of the bio-whatever-the-fuck, lending him nothing more exciting than enduring muscle mass and enhanced healing, but that should probably be enough to turn him into a cut above the rest, right? He could hire himself out to the highest bidder and make a fortune doing private security or collections or stuff like that. Fuck, he’d even consider taking on jobs for The Guardians, if they just agreed to pay him.

It was a fun thought to play with, but in the end a long life in the shadows made Mickey wary of putting himself out there like that. Besides, he’d seen enough movies to know that it’d probably wouldn’t be long before he mysteriously disappeared to some secret government facility to be experimented on. He’d had enough of the state’s hospitality to last him a lifetime, so thanks, but no fucking thanks.

And that could have been it. Should have been it, but of course Tania and Dreamweaver wouldn’t leave well enough alone. They started showing up at the Gallagher house at all hours, whenever they knew they could get Mickey alone. They accosted him on the way to the Alibi, they sat down next to him on the L, and they left him pictures of puppies with little notes saying stuff like “Only YOU can SAVE him from BURNING. Have a HEART”.

It was exhausting. Fearing the retribution of the cartel hadn’t anything on fearing seeing Tania and Dreamweaver’s disappointed-yet-still-somehow-hopeful-and-terribly-determined faces appear in a crowd, or round a corner, or on the porch when he went out for his evening smoke.

Mickey began to lose sleep. He’d spend the nights tossing and turning, which led to him staying in bed half the day to catch up on much needed rest, and he was often so tired he couldn’t bring himself to put on proper clothes or go outside the door the whole day.

Ian was on his ass about getting a job; he didn’t get that Mickey had a job, and that job was not getting lured into sacrificing his life for the greater good. If Ian didn’t like the prospects of being a prison widow, how offensive wouldn’t he find the prospect of being an actual widower, after his husband got blown to bits by some big bad villain?

It got to the point of Ian initiating a sex strike to force Mickey to get “a real job”, which struck Mickey as really fucking unfair, considering how all he was trying to do was make sure Ian even had a husband to refuse to fuck.

Enough was enough. Something had to be done. Fortunately for Mickey – and unfortunately for Tania and Dreamweaver – Mickey had a guy for everything. As annoying as The Guardians were, Mickey didn’t have the heart to see them killed, but he figured that having them kidnapped and shipped off to some sweatshop on the other side of the world would serve the same purpose. He felt a little bad about it, sure, but he had given them plenty of chances to fuck off. Not his fault they couldn’t respect a fucking boundary.

Mickey called Johnny, told him the score, and a few night later Johnny called Mickey to tell him it was done.

It was done. Over. Mickey would finally be able go about his life in peace again, giving all his attention to his husband and doing his outmost to make him the happiest man alive every single day, even when Ian was annoying as hell and started asking pointless fucking questions about how Mickey was in such great shape even though he never did as much as one single curl up.

I see. So… you’re telling me that you have secret superpowers.

Yeah. Except, not actually secret anymore. ‘Cause, you know, you told me we shouldn’t have secrets.

… yeah, that was three months ago.

Guess it must have slipped my mind, huh.

Must have. But let me get this straight: you couldn’t get a real job because you were busy dodging secret agents, and your muscles are the result of you getting bitten by some magic robot—

Radioactive motherfucker bug from hell.

—and not you sneaking down to the basement to do weights and cardio almost every day?

… oh.

Yeah, oh. Carl told me about it, asshole. He noticed you using some of the stuff down there. Don’t get why you’d wanna keep that a secret though?

…

Mick. We have to be honest with each other, remember?

Jesus Christ, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.

Okay.

Guess the first time was back when you had that dip a couple of months after the wedding. Few times after that, if we had a fight or whatever and I needed to let off some steam. Then you started working and sometimes I got bored watching TV all day but you were all mopey about your shitty job and me not having any and you have this thing about your body—

I don’t have a thing about my body.

—so I didn’t really wanna rub your face in me having all that time to work out when you could barely squeeze in dozen push-ups in the evening. And I guess I didn’t really want anyone to know that I… cared, or whatever.

Cared? About what? Being healthy? Looking good? Being strong?

Whatever, man, I told I don’t fucking know. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause it was a radioactive motherfucker bug from hell that did it.

Of course it was. Come here. Show me what that bio enhanced body of yours can do.

---

Ahahahahahaha, would you look at that. I tried to meta it anyway. 😭😭😭

You might reasonably ask about Mickey’s visit to Kev Fit – how does that fit? WELL, I rather imagine that whatever Mickey does in that basement is enough to keep him fit but still not SUPER hardcore? So when he starts worrying about Ian thinking him weaker than, he decides to take it up a notch and do it properly in a real(ish) gym? And his comment about “not remembering how much working out sucks” is part of the whole “not wanting anyone to know this is something I care to do on the regular”… Yeah, it’s pretty weak. All in all, I’d say the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell is still our best bet. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This is probably the last time I have one of them tell the other a story this week, but I make no promises. These little ficlets don’t tend to go as planned. (Ha! She said, as if there was a plan to begin with. Oh, well. I guess it’s working out so far.)

#gallavich #gallavich week 2021 #gw2021 #ficlet #my stuff

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thatsbucknasty · 3 years

Text

she used to be mine (x) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are closed

chapter 10: I didn’t plan it

Two months pass and I realize it’s only a matter of weeks before I meet my baby girl. I’ve been working hard to save more money but I’m still not even close to the amount I’m gonna need for the birth AND the divorce. It’s been really hard to put my pride aside and accept the help my friends offer, I guess I’m used to being left to my own devices since I was very young. But I love my little family. Bucky and Sam drive me home every night after closing and Wanda has been bringing me gifts for the baby. Nat’s contact will be handling my divorce and she said they would give us a payment plan so that it won’t be so difficult to pay all at once. I still don’t understand how that’s gonna work but I trust her. She’s being very strange though, but Natasha’s one of those people who deal with issues on their own and compartmentalizes everything. Still, I’m worried about her. I guess I can’t judge her, we’re the same in that department.

Old Nick hasn’t been around much lately, says he’s taking care of his health. Guess my pies aren’t the healthiest meal for an eighty-something year old man. Maybe I should start adding more vegetables to my own diet, I’m creating life inside of me after all.

“Hey boys, what can I getcha?” Wanda flirts with Steve at the counter and Bucky laughs, he seems to be getting used to their corny, slightly inappropriate conversations.

“Oh I don’t know, sweetheart. What’s the special pie today?” Steve flirts back at her.

“Well, Y/N made her famous ‘Slutty brownie pie’ today and if you want, I could make it even sluttier-”

“Guys! Not in front of my salad, please!” Sam scolds them and Bucky’s just laughing at Steve’s red cheeks. Wanda rolls her eyes at him and motions Steve to follow her away from the group.

I come out of the kitchen ready to leave and see Steve and Wanda making out in the far corner of the counter, while Bucky and Sam talk about an AC/DC concert they both attended back when they didn’t know each other. Sam’s also taking care of his diet it seems, but Bucky’s stuffing his mouth with my brownie pie. I don’t actually understand how he can eat so much and still look absolutely stunning.

“Guys! Keep it in your pants. It’s movie night, we’re leaving!” I scold them and Steve’s blush has reached his ears and neck at this point.

“Thank you! I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks those two are such horny teenagers”. Sam throws his hands in the air and hangs his apron, ready to go.

“I think they’re adorable, but I’m tired and hungry, and I don’t want any more pie today so let’s go, where’s Nat?” I look around trying to find the redhead.

“She said she needed to be alone tonight but she’ll be at the party tomorrow”. Wanda says and we share the same worried look on our eyes.

“Oh, okay. Shall we?”

We get to Bucky’s apartment and today’s pick is on Steve cause tomorrow’s his birthday. He chooses 1986’s Labyrinth. We order pizza and sushi and enjoy the magical spectacle on the screen.

I can’t stop thinking about my divorce and all the bills that are waiting for me in the future. Raising a child isn’t cheap. Bucky holds my hand at one point, under the blanket that we’re sharing. I guess he senses my worry and tries to make it go away. I’m glad he does. Lately I’ve just been letting myself fall for him because fighting against it it’s a lost cause. He’s the sweetest guy, brings me home safely anytime he’s able to, he cares about my friends and most importantly, he’s patient and doesn’t rush me to do anything I’m not ready to do. His parents raised him right, what’s a girl supposed to do?

Next day is organized chaos, thanks to Wanda and her frantic need for everything to be perfect. She really loves Steve and he’s a good guy. They deserve each other, truly.

Nat’s helping Sam hang decorations around Wanda’s backyard. It’s a mixture of 4th of July colors and Happy Birthday signs. We’re not doing the whole fireworks thing, since Wanda’s birthday present for Steve wouldn’t like the noise. But there’s a flatscreen set up to watch them on tv.

I’m in the kitchen, chopping some tomatoes for a pico de gallo I’m making. Bucky’s setting up the barbecue outside and I can see him from the window. He keeps messing it up and starting again, making the funniest, exasperated faces. I told him Steve could do it in no time but he insisted he’s the birthday boy and should just enjoy this day.

Speaking of Steve, he’s on his way. It ain’t a surprise party but we still wanted to set everything up before he got here.

We’re all enjoying the cool summer breeze, watching football on a projector Wanda set up in the backyard, we have hotdogs and guacamole and chips, the guys have beer which of course I can’t have, but Bucky was kind enough to make me an entire jug of pink lemonade just for me. I’m not really interested in the game, to be honest and my bladder is full so I separate myself from Buck and look around to realize Natasha isn’t here. Since this is not my house and I need to find the restroom I ask Wanda for some help instead and we enter the house together.

She points me to the toilet and I open the door to find Nat and Sam wrapped around each other, half naked.

“OH MY GOD! What’s happening here?!” I immediately cover my eyes and close the door.

“Y/N, you’re okay? What is it? Don’t tell me you found a rat cause I hate them so much, Gosh I told Steve we should’ve done this at my place, is way cleaner”.

“I- I- no- um. It’s not a rat it’s a- um. I’m sorry-”

“Y/N! Let me explain-” Natasha comes out the restroom with her blouse half buttoned up, makeup almost completely ruined.

“I don’t- I don’t need you to expla- can somebody please lead me to another bathroom or something? I’m about to piss myself!”

“Sure, honey, let’s go”. Wanda grabs me, she apparently understands what’s going on, looking at Nat’s disheveled state and brings me upstairs to another room.

“What’s going on? I heard the girls yell”. Bucky enters the house and sees Sam and Nat cornered in the kitchen, looking like they’ve seen a ghost.

“Nothing, man. I think it’s time for me to leave. Say happy birthday to Steve for me”. Sam kisses Nat on the cheek and leaves the house.

“Wha- Natasha, are you okay?” Bucky stands there awkwardly, trying to break the tension.

“I’m fine, but the girls and I need to talk privately. Would you distract Steve for us? He doesn’t need to hear about this. Tell him we’re talking about pregnancy stuff with Y/N or something”.

“Oh-kay? Are you sure you’re alright though, you seem-”

“I’m fine, Bucky. Now go talk to Steve, he’s out there alone on his birthday”.

“Well, he looks fine! He’s watching the Patriots destroy the- Okay got it, see you later”. Bucky awkwardly scurries down to the kitchen and grabs a couple more beers and brings them outside.

“Knock-knock”. Natasha enters Steve’s bedroom and sees Wanda sitting on the bed.

“Hey”.

“Hey. Y/N still peeing?”

“I don’t think so. But I think she’s crying”.

“God she’s always so dramatic”.

“Hey! You should’ve told us! Do you know how worried about you we’ve been? We thought you were sick or something! Not wanting to hang out with us. We were supposed to plan a baby shower for her by now but you’ve been M.I.A.”.

“ I know, and I’m sorry”. Nat sighs and knocks on the bathroom door.

“Y/N, come out. We know you’re done so let’s go. We need to talk”.

I wipe my tears. I don’t know why I feel betrayed. Sam and Nat are my best friends, I should be happy for them. Damn hormones making me cry like a little baby every time something’s out of place.

“Hey”. I sniff and open the door to see Natasha rolling her eyes at me.

“Why the hell are you crying?”

“Oh I’m sorry for being a hormonal mess but seeing two of my best friends, one of them who’s married by the way, making out like horny teenagers would definitely cause me some distress!”

“Uh huh, and how is this any different to you and Bucky holding hands and making eyes at each other every single minute? May I remind you, you’re still married too!”

“Oh my God, Natasha, you did not! I’m getting a divorce, you know that!”

“Yeah, I know. And I understand and not make a fuss about it, until you decide to judge me for the exact same thing you’ve been doing!”

“Why- ah. Sorry, I know I’m looking like a complete hypocrite right now. It’s just- you guys are my friends and you’ve been acting so strange lately, it had me so worried and I feel like I could’ve been there for you, just as much as you’ve been there for me. You guys are my sisters”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But Sam and I wanted to figure out what we wanted first and you know how I am. I fall down the rabbit hole and I keep it to myself cause I’m too proud to admit I’m weak”.

“Natasha, please. You’re anything BUT weak. You’re the one who’s always showing us how strong we really are!” Wanda chimes in and holds both mine and Nat’s hands in hers.

“Okay girls, listen up, from now on we need to make a pact that whenever one of us starts to close off from each other, we will make an intervention for that person and keep ourselves accountable for our shitty ways to cope with men, and life, and money problems, and cleaning obsessions, is that clear?” Nat kisses the top of my head and Wanda laughs at her declaration.

Somehow I feel like everything’s about to change, hopefully for the better.

chapter 11: she used to be mine

#she used to be mine #waitress au #waitress musical #bucky x reader #doctor!Bucky #waitress!reader #avengers au #marvel au #Bucky Barnes #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #quentin beck #Steve Rogers #nina writes

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