#enjoy ur lawyers!!!

[wickedghxst]

as good as lost judgement looks i wonder if it’s gonna be hard to sit through with all the school bullying & most likely suicide that’s gonna be in it.

#enjoying the first game though :) lots of AA references #kinda unavoidable when ur protagonist is an ex lawyer who still hangs out with his old lawyer coworkers

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.” 

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought. 

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it. 

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky. 

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over. 

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.” 

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like. 

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids? 

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!” 

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery. 

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.” 

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses. 

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing. 

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced. 

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received. 

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.” 

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed. 

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing? 

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips. 

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons. 

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests. 

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth. 

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).  

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks. 

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’. 

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air. 

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.” 

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes. 

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned. 

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.” 

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?” 

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!” 

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent. 

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that. 

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still. 

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once. 

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.” 

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat. 

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.”  _____________________________

You thought about quitting. 

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck. 

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine. 

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing. 

“Hey, titty-shirt!” 

The loveliness was ruined. 

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words. 

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction. 

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!” 

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring). 

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.” 

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.” 

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you. 

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house. 

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.” 

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.” 

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?” 

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers. 

“Okay.” 

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered. 

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway. 

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides. 

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks. 

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?” 

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose. 

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive. 

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?” 

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.” 

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs. 

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt. 

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen. 

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita. 

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!” 

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand. 

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-” 

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.” 

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-” 

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.” 

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.” 

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit. 

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him. 

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.” 

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles. 

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.” 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.” 

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed. 

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.” 

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?” 

“Yeah, evidence.” 

“EVIDENCE?” 

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet. 

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed. 

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines. 

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” 

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic. 

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at. 

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?” 

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled. 

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly. 

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?” 

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child. 

“Alright, but-” 

“Yes!” 

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good. 

“What happened to Belinda?” 

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.” 

“She has kids?!” 

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins. 

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean. 

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork. 

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight. 

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.” 

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way. 

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?” 

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours. 

“I think you love being treated like a slut.” 

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair. 

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?” 

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider. 

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?” 

“JEONGHAN!” 

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing. 

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious. 

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath. 

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster. 

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips. 

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you. 

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back. 

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again. 

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back. 

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt. 

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them. 

You went to work. 

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing. 

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic. 

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.” 

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little. 

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate. 

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans. 

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows. 

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached. 

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm. 

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.” 

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head. 

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips. 

“I’m tired, you just go.” 

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit. 

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat. 

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants. 

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-” 

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?” 

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-” 

“Well, then give us a ride?!” 

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left. 

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-” 

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!” 

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-” 

You’re not even sure why you lied. 

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!” 

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face. 

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-” 

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child. 

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted. 

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?” 

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-” 

“Why are you crying?” 

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had  tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern. 

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made  you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual. 

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..” 

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up. 

God, you were pathetic. 

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. 

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar. 

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-” 

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him. 

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes. 

There was a significant pause. 

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation. 

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?” 

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush. 

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you. 

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket. 

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling. 

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it. 

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze. 

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great. 

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt. 

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser. 

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his. 

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen. 

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!” 

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing. 

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing. 

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too. 

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-” 

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground. 

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae. 

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other. 

His hand dropped from your lips. 

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless. 

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?” 

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.” 

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in. 

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well. 

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?” 

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?” 

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.” 

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park. 

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway. 

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?” 

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed. 

“You’ll see.” 

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful. 

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis. 

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly. 

“What do you think?” 

Jeonghan was looking at you. 

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.” 

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well. 

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other. 

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.” 

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you. 

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained. 

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back. 

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.” 

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?” 

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second. 

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?” 

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-” 

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you. 

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face. 

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically. 

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky. 

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly. 

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.” 

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.” 

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed. 

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body. 

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily. 

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around. 

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.” 

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance. 

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear. 

“Jeonghan, please touch me-” 

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble. 

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing. 

“Jeonghan, I can’t-” 

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway. 

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it. 

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch. 

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest. 

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder. 

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.” 

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection. 

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off. 

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now. 

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties. 

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this. 

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties. 

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear. 

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.” 

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly. 

“N-ngh, fuck..” 

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.” 

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine. 

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it. 

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-” 

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face. 

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. 

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole. 

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-” 

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming. 

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face. 

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.” 

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.” 

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs. 

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit. 

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin. 

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying. 

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs. 

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples 

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it. 

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly. 

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply. 

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling. 

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.” 

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating. 

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.” 

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows. 

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock. 

It was long and right by your fucking face. 

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.” 

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up. 

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane. 

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin. 

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture. 

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?” 

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting. 

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage. 

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.” 

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply. 

Or almost perfect. 

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.” 

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue. 

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly. 

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth: 

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

#svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt angst #seventeen smut #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan angst #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x you #smut #fluff #angst #crack

[writingstoraes]

the other side 🥡

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!horner!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this was actually a request but it somehow got lost in my inbox so im so sorry to whoever requested this 😭 i hope you still see this though and i hope u like it! lmk what u guys think hehehe

about: fans adore your support for ferrari, given your dad is literally their rival's team principal.

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 1,201,294 others

ynhorner had the best view at monaco 🏎️

(ps. i hope my dad isn't using his instagram right now)

christianhorner I have no words....

ynhorner see u at home 😘

redgirlz LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY

maxverstappen ??? Hello

ynhorner hi, max :)

daylightcharles if years ago you told me christian horner's own daughter would be openly supporting ferrari i would have laughed in your face

hamilecs not charles liking this 😭

sainzlines QUEEN DO U PLAN ON WATCHING SOMEDAY AT FERRARI'S GARAGE 🎤🎤

ynhorner i would if i'd still be my dad's daughter afterwards

ynhorner

liked by christianhorner, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,028,248 others

ynhorner i may scream "forza ferrari sempre" during race weekends, but i am my dad's daughter still 🫡

therealgerihalliwell There we go, Dad was waiting for you to wear that 😊

ilpredestinato she is me and i am her (i too, would support ferrari to hell and back)

lovesgasly my ferrari queen ❤️

britcedesbros LOVE THE JACKET drop the link pls 🙏

ynhorner dad brought it home after seeing me check out another ferrari cap 😆

ynhorner recently added to her instagram story!

ynhorner

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, therealgerihalliwell, and 1,019,294 others

ynhorner clearing my gallery so enjoy this race week’s dump! life's good when i'm not torn between two teams; i can bust my lungs out to "super max" and forza ferrari my way every sunday ❤️

queensland mother pls tell me that man is just an uber driver

charlierari That's literally Charles 😭 loverslane reaching we can't even see the face???

paddockgirlie MAM IS THAT CHARLES PLS SPEAK INTO THE MIC

ynhorner i think my lawyer says i'd rather not say anything 😅

maxverstappen Glad to know "Super Max" is on your playlist

ynhorner are you kidding? i play that when i drive so i can get to where i'm going faster christianhorner Your karting races are not an excuse for you to overtake whenever you want, Y/N ynhorner it's okay i'm driving a ferrari anyway :D

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,503,994 others

ynhorner okay maybe there's another reason why i love ferrari, but it's really not my fault they signed someone so breathtaking and loveable to be their driver 🤷‍♀️

merchamilton someone check up on christian quick

sainzzzzham Y/N IS UR DAD OKAY 😭

ynhorner oh don't worry about him, i'm sure he'll be fine!

charles_leclerc Saw the sign today, apparently that's why you sent me out to buy red poster board?

ynhorner yes, gotta stick to my ferrari girl agenda

paddocklovez MY NEW PARENTS ❤️

maxverstappen Finally, growing tired of hiding Charles when he visits the garage 😐

christianhorner So you were in on this? maxverstappen For legal reasons, I will be blocking you.

------------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant (lmk if anyone else wants to be part of my taglist!)

notes: tysm for reading <3

#writtenbyrae #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc insta au #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc ig imagine #charles leclerc instagram imagine #charles leclerc smau #formula 1 #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 insta imagine #f1 social media au #f1 instagram imagine #f1 ig imagine #formula 1 instagram imagine #formula 1 social media au #formula 1 ig imagine #formula 1 insta au

[h00nerz]

law of attraction!

masterlist | 1k celebration

pairing: fem!reader x choi soobin

genre: angst kinda, rivals to lovers, law student!soobin, law student!reader, pining, kinda fluffy at the end

word count: 3.6k

warnings: soobin is a lil mean sometimes, veeerry suggestive, but that’s it i think

prompt(s): #33 — “i can’t pretend anymore.” #34 — “you’re all i can think about.” #49 — “i can’t get you out of my head.” “…thanks?”

requested: “hii!! i hope ur doing well <3 could i req 33, 34, 49 and 50?? thank u <333333333” — anon

authors note: haha another enemies to lovers! tbf it’s not my fault most of the requests were enemies to lovers themed. anyways i had been wanting to do a law intern thing for someone for a long time and i thought it would fit for soob! i got a lil carried away while writing this LOL i hope u enjoy!!

IN LIFE, THERE WAS ONLY THREE THINGS YOU WERE SURE OF. First, sparkling water is stupid. Just drink soda or water instead, there’s no point in pretending you’re better than anyone else when in reality it’s just that you can’t pick a side! The second thing you knew was you were born to be a lawyer. Arguing was in your blood, there was no doubt you were going to make an incredible attorney one day. The third and final thing that you knew for certain was that you hated Choi Soobin.

Freaking Choi Soobin. In the past, you never thought you’d be the kind of person to have a nemesis. The whole concept of having an enemy seemed childish, and like something that only happened in movies. But, then you met Soobin, and everything changed. You hated him, and his smug little attitude, and he hated you, too.

You know, there was actually a point in time where you didn’t hate Soobin. It sounds crazy, but there was actually a time you might have called him a friend. Back when you were just a baby-faced girl, fresh out of high school and filled with excitement for your first college course. Soobin sat next to you, and you bonded over your desire to one day go to law school. But, then he betrayed you when he told the guy you liked, Hwang Hyunjin, that he saw you kissing the TA for your class, and from that moment on, Choi Soobin was your enemy.

And of course, as your enemy, he just had to apply to intern at the same firm as you. He had followed you to the same law school, so it was no surprise he followed you there, too. But you were starting to grow tired of his ever looming presence. After you graduated, you wouldn’t be surprised if he got a job at the same place as you, just to piss you off.

After a long morning of sorting through the mess of files in the basement of the office, it was finally time for your lunch break. You had been standing with your shoulders hunched over for hours, and you were positive your back was about to break from the stress.

“Y/N!” One of the only other interns in the office, and your only friend in the office, Sumin, called out to you once you appeared back upstairs. “I thought you were out sick or something, where have you been?” She stood up from her desk and wandered over to you.

“I was exiled to the basement. There’s files from like, 20 years ago down there, it’s a mess.” You groaned as she followed you towards the break room, rubbing your shoulder as you walked.

Sumin winced. “Ooh, yeah. Sana was telling me about how when she was an intern here, she had to go down there once, and found a rat skeleton.”

“What?!” You gasped in horror, a little bit louder than you meant to. “That was like, ten years ago though, right? It must have been cleaned up since then, right? Because I don’t think I can work around dead rats, no matter how bad I need this internship.”

You heard a laugh from the corner of the break room, and felt yourself become filled with dread. With your jaw clenched tightly, you slowly turned to face the direction of the noise. There he was, sitting at the little table with a cup of ramen in front of him and his phone propped up in front of him.

“Soobin.” You glared at him. Sumin, bless her heart, tried to pretend she couldn’t sense the tension as she slowly opened up the door to the fridge.

“You know why they sent you to the basement, right, Y/N?” Soobin asked, raising his eyebrows at you.

“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” You rolled your eyes, turning to the fridge to fish out the salad you brought for lunch.

“Because they don’t trust you enough to do the important stuff.” He told you with an amused tone to his voice.

You spun around, slamming the fridge door behind you. “Really? Remind me, who did Taemin pick to help him with the Park case? Me! Not you!” You snapped, jabbing your finger in his direction pointedly.

“Y/N!” Sumin hissed your name scoldingly, as though he wasn’t the one who started it.

Soobin’s smug smile twisted into a scowl at your reminder. “That’s just because I had the flu and wasn’t here. You were just his second choice.”

You had successfully managed to get under his skin--which wasn’t very hard--and were satisfied as you sat down at one of the other tables with Sumin. “Sure, Soobin. Keep telling yourself that.”

He started to raise his hand, like he was going to make some sort of rude gesture at you, but flinched and tucked his hand beneath the table when someone else walked into the room. You furrowed your eyebrows together, and turned in your seat to see who it was. His ears must have been burning, because Taemin himself had decided to join the three of you.

“Oh, hi, guys.” He smiled at you as he walked over to the fridge. You glanced over at Soobin over Sumin’s shoulder. He was staring back at you, with his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

That was another thing about Soobin that had always bothered you. Especially in moments like now, where he looked like he was seconds away from murdering you, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, he was extremely attractive. You had always thought so, even back a million years ago when you were friends. His dark eyes and his perfectly shaped lips just did something to you that you were slightly ashamed of.

You swallowed hard, diverting your attention down to your salad. You could already feel your skin becoming hot, and there was absolutely no way you could ever let Soobin get even an inkling that you might be attracted to him. It was just all so humiliating.

“Y/N, Soobin, I actually need to talk to the both of you. Could you meet me in my office after you finish lunch?” Taemin asked, and you immediately looked back over to Soobin to see if he knew what it was about. His eyebrows were furrowed together, though, and he looked just as confused as you.

“Um, do you mind me asking why?” You asked hesitantly, looking over at your boss.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I just need your help with something.” He reassured the two of you wish a smile.

When he left the break room, you could hear Soobin grumbling in his corner. You wanted to ask him what he’d done to get you both in trouble, but you were also not in the mood to fight with him. Not when you had to go and face Taemin in just a few minutes. He said it was nothing bad, but you weren’t sure you believed him.

While you finished eating your food, Soobin stood by the doorway, huffing dramatically as he waited for you. Just for that, you took the smallest bites you could, which just made him even more annoyed. Sumin was clearly feeling very awkward as she ate her food, eyes flickering between you and Soobin like she was waiting for one of you to attack the other.

Once you had taken the final bite, Soobin stomped over, and grabbed your wrist to tug you out of your seat. “Clean up for her, will you, Sumin? I’m sure you already do that a lot.” He asked your friend, before dragging you out of the break room before you got the chance to protest.

Finally, you snatched your wrist free from his grip, rubbing the sore spot as you trailed after him in the direction of Taemin’s office. “Ugh, you’re such an ass, you know that?” You murmured.

“Me? You’re the one purposefully taking forever when our boss is literally waiting for both of us.” He snapped at you.

You don’t say anything else, worried that someone else in the office might hear your childish squabble.

When the two of you finally reached Taemin’s office, Soobin opened the door, and you’re shocked when he gestured for you to walk in first. Then, you remembered how much of a suck-up he is, and that your boss was on the other side. You shot him a glare as you walked in.

“Oh, good! You’re here!” Taemin greeted the two of you. “Please, sit.”

You obliged him, sitting down on the small couch across from his desk. Soobin sat down as well, and you immediately noticed his leg pressed up against your own. The same heat you felt before spread across your skin like a wildfire, and you cleared your throat.

“So, as you know, the Kang vs. Choi trial is happening next week. Now, Jun was supposed to be in charge of sorting through all the files and compiling them into binders, but his appendix burst and he had to get surgery.” He rolled his eyes, as though Jun was just being dramatic.

“So, now I have fifteen boxes full of papers that need to be sorted through… And I need to get them to the Court tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” You blurted out, eyes wide.

Taemin nodded. “I know, it’s short notice, but Jun claims he had been ‘busy’ and was ‘getting around to it’ before his appendix burst. So, I was hoping you two would be willing to stay late tonight and finish his work.”

“Tonight?! But—“ Soobin started, but was cut off by Taemin.

“You don’t have to do it. I’m more than happy to ask one of the other interns. I figured you two would just like the opportunity to help me out with this…”

“Absolutely yes, Taemin! I can’t speak for Soobin, but I would be delighted to help you with this!” You might as well have held up your hand in salute from how militaristic your answer came out.

Soobin glared at you. “Yes, I am also very willing to help you.” He said as formally as possible, but he couldn’t hide the slight annoyance in his tone.

Taemin smiled. “Great! I’ll have Jisung bring up the boxes, then you can get to work later!” He told you, which you took as your cue to leave.

Soobin trailed after you as you left the office and started to return to your desks. “I can’t believe he’s making us work all night to sort through a bunch of boxes.” He muttered.

“What, did you have a hot date tonight, or something?” You teased, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you jealous?” He asked, and you immediately scoffed in response.

“Why in the world would I be jealous? If anything I would feel bad for whatever poor soul has been tricked into a date with you.” You quickly snapped back at him.

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” He said with a sigh.

You hated that a small, minuscule part of you was happy he didn’t have a date.

BY THE TIME EVERYONE ELSE HAD CLEARED OUT OF THE OFFICE, you and Soobin had managed to get through seven boxes. It was nine o’clock at night, and the exhaustion, as well as the hunger was starting to hit you. You still had eight boxes to go through, and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through the night.

“God, I’m so hungry.” You muttered as you picked through the papers in the box you were currently working on.

You expected him to make some snarky comment or something, but he didn’t. Instead he just let out a small hum in agreement. “Me too. Should we try ordering some food?” He suggested.

You nodded, then made the mistake of glancing over at him. At some point during your sorting, he had lost his tie, unbuttoned his shirt down to the middle of chest, and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. His dark hair, which had been meticulously styled when he came into work that morning, was now a disheveled mess. There was a thin sheen of sweat that glistened against his skin. He looked way too good under the soft glow of the office lighting.

“Sure. If anywhere is even open.” You replied, eyes flickering back down to your box.

“I know a good place. I order from there all the time when I’m working late.” He said plainly.

“You work late a lot?” You asked as you pulled out a thick stack of papers.

“Yeah. I mean, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I just… I dunno, assumed that you had other things to do besides work…” You shrugged.

He leaned back against the table he was working at as he worked on ordering food on his phone. “Why would you assume that?” He glanced up at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought that a good looking guy like you would have a bunch of girlfriends and friends to hang out with.” You felt your face grow warm as you worked, once again avoiding his gaze like it was the plague.

He laughed. “Yeah, I wish. I’m way too busy for that…” His voice trailed off, and you could feel him look up from his phone to look at you. “You think I’m a good looking guy?”

You shook your head, while you started tapping the papers against the table to straighten them out. “No, I didn’t mean it like I think you’re good looking. Just, like, you’re objectively a good looking guy. I think. Sumin thinks you’re good looking. Not me, I definitely don’t—“ Your hand got too close to the paper, and you felt the edge slice straight through your palm.

You hissed loudly, dropping the papers onto the table. “Stupid fucking paper.” You muttered to yourself, and Soobin wasted no time rushing to your side.

“Did you cut yourself? Do you need me to go get a bandaid or something?”

“No, it’s fine. I just need to go and rinse it off.” You told him, trying to push past him in the direction of the bathroom. He pressed one of his big hands against your shoulder to stop you.

“Just let me get you a bandaid.” He rolled his eyes at you. “I think Sana keeps some in her desk…” He mumbled as he started digging through the said woman’s drawers.

You huffed, turning around to lean back against the desk. “You better hurry. I think I’m about to bleed out and die.” You called out to him.

He glanced up to give you that same annoyed look he always seemed to wear around you. “Maybe I should let you. Then I wouldn’t have to put up with you everyday.”

“But then who would keep you on your toes?” You asked pointedly. He finally found a bandaid, and started walking back over. “Admit it, Soobin. You need me.”

He didn’t say anything, instead focusing on opening up the bandaid. He held out his hand, gesturing for you to put yours in, which you did hesitantly. He had really soft hands.

You watched as he gently pulled off the tabs of the bandage, then laid it across your palm. He used one of his long, slender fingers to smooth it down and make it stick.

It wasn’t until he glanced back up at you when you realized how close he was to you. His dark eyes met your own, and you had the instinct to look away, but something about his gaze had you entranced, and you couldn’t look away, no matter how hard you tried.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, hanging his head down. He took a step back from you, and it felt like a warmth had disappeared. You blinked at him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t pretend anymore, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, although you had a feeling you knew exactly what he meant, because it was the same thing you were thinking.

“I can’t pretend like you’re not all I can think about. At work, at home, at school, I can’t get you out of my head.” He confessed, and for a second the insecure part of you thought he might have been saying all of this as some sort of cruel joke, but the look in his eyes told you it wasn’t.

“Thanks…?” You played stupid, tilting your head at him. You needed him to just come out and say it, to confirm you weren’t crazy, and what was happening was really happening.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “When we were freshmen… And I told Hwang Hyunjin you were kissing the TA…”

Your ears perked up. Was he finally going to explain what that was all about, after all these years?

“It was because Hyunjin told me he was planning to ask you out. And I got jealous because I wanted to ask you out, but was too scared to do it.”

Oh.

“You did?” You asked quietly.

He nodded. “Of course I did. You were smart, funny, and gorgeous, of course I wanted to ask you out.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his cheeks tinted pink.

“And… How do you feel about me now?”

“I feel like you’re incredibly annoying, and sometimes you’re a bit of a know-it-all, and some days you dress sort of like a grandma—“

“Hey!”

“—but I also think you’re smart, probably smarter than me. And you still manage to make me laugh. And even though you do dress like a grandma…”

Your heart jumped up into your throat when he started walking back over to you, getting just as close to you as he had been before. But then he got even closer, leaning down so his lips were aligned with your ear.

“…You look like a sexy grandma.” He whispered in a low, sultry voice.

You immediately burst into laughter. “Oh wow, Soobin, you really know how to get a girl going.” You told him with a laugh, and he leaned back to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Shut up.” He murmured while you continued to giggle.

“Here, let me show you how it’s done, okay?” You wrapped your fingers around the collar of his shirt, and gave it a tug so you could lean in close to him. You didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting yourself catch your breath.

“Are you just going to breathe in my ear the entire time?” Soobin asked in an irritated tone.

You shook your head. “No. I’m going to tell you, that right now, with your sleeves rolled up…” You gently dragged your fingernails against his bare forearms, and you felt him shiver. “And your shirt unbuttoned…” Your hand traveled upwards to trail across his exposed collarbone. “And your messy hair…” You reached around to brush your fingers against the hair on the nape of his neck.

“You look incredibly sexy.”

He leaned back and immediately bent back down to connect your lips to his. He kissed you harshly, like you were the only thing that could cure his hunger. His big hands found home on your hips, while your own nestled themselves deeper in his hair. Just like you had predicted, his lips were perfect for kissing.

One of his hands let go of your waist, and you heard a scuffle behind you. For a brief moment, you pulled away from the kiss to see what was going on, just to find he had slid everything off of your desk. With it all clear, his hands wrapped around your thighs, and he lifted you up onto the desk and slotted himself between your legs.

He went back to kissing you like a mad man, using one arm to hold you close against him by your waist and the other to stabilize himself against the desk. Your fingers moved quickly across the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one until the shirt was completely open. As you started to trace your fingers against his abdomen, he slid the hand that was wrapped around your waist under your shirt, practically burning against your bare skin.

Just as he was starting to prod at your lips with his tongue, there was a loud banging noise, which caused you to help and immediately cling onto Soobin.

“Oh my god! We’re gonna die! The killers always go for the people making out first!” You wail, digging your fingers into his collar to keep him close to you.

He rolled his eyes. “I take back what I said about you being smart.” He said with a sigh, and you gasped loudly.

“Shut up, you ass!” You hissed at him, smacking his chest and pulling away from him.

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Kidding. Anyways, I’m pretty sure it’s just our food.” He told you with a sigh, staring down at you while his thumb brushed against your swollen lip.

You shivered. “I guess we can always… Finish this later, right?” You asked quietly. As much as it pained you, you were still starving, and had lots of work left to do.

He pouted. “Promise?”

You nodded, then sat up to gently press your lips against his. As you sat back, you smiled at his dazed expression. “I promise.”

permanent tag list: @jakeshands @exohclipse @ttyunz @i1l0-n4 @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @cosmicuwu @naveries @yeonboy @blaaiissee

other tags: @haohyo @gyumibear @heartsforhyunjin

#⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ 1k celebration #soobin x reader #soobin imagine #soobin oneshot #soobin drabble #choi soobin #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin imagine #txt x reader #txt #tomorrow x together #kpop x reader #txt imagine #txt oneshot #txt drabble

[vampykween]

hi mic :D

i just read your toxic!husband!ghost fics and would like to ask if u could write one where the reader just gives up on their relationship, maybe they finally file for divorce?

loved your writing btw! ♡

hi hi! thank u! i’m so glad y’all are enjoying toxichusband!ghost hehe

i hope i did your idea justice. i have a problem with just letting asks get away from me oops! but kiss ur brain for this idea cause i loved this! i get way too excited writing angsty stuff

you would realize you’ve had enough on the most random of days. after looking after your kids all day and finally getting your house cleaned, laundry all done. simon would come home and not even stop to greet you. he instantly strips from his fatigues and tosses them somewhere on the couch, turns on the tv to watch the game, and kicks up his feet and perches them on the clean coffee table. just the sight of him makes your blood boil. you make a mental note right then to talk to a divorce lawyer cause jesus you couldn’t take anymore of this.

you’ve been agonizing over doing this for the past week. hidden in your nightstand drawer was an envelope that was going to change your life forever, and not just yours, your children’s lives too. that thought has stifled your desire for a divorce just ever so slightly, as much as you can’t take a loveless marriage anymore you know your kids will be hurt by this.

you and simon are lounging in your bed and you’re losing your edge to serve him the papers. you’re worn out from cooking dinner and doing the usual nighttime routine with the kids. you suck in a deep breath and remind yourself that this decision is for the best; you don’t deserve to be chained down by someone who won’t appreciate you.

“simon…”

“yeah?” he doesn’t look up from whatever he’s engrossed in on his phone and you roll your eyes exasperatedly. you’re swiftly reminded why you’re in this position.

“i- um, we need to talk.” god your palms were sweaty and your heart was hammering in your chest. why was this so much harder than you thought it would be. simon still doesn’t give you his attention and you figure you should just rip the bandaid off already.

your shaky hands open the nightstand drawer and fish out the large yellow envelope you’ve been holding onto for the past week. you nudge his shoulder with enough force to get him to look up at you, and shove the envelope in his now free hand.

he quirks an eyebrow at you curiously, “the hell is this?”

you gulp painfully and whisper at him to just open it. his large digits tear open the paper easily and as he’s scanning through the lengthy paper, you can see it clear on his face the moment he realizes what’s happening. he turns his body fully towards yours and you can see the fury in his eyes.

“have you lost your fuckin’ head. why on earth would ya want a divorce?” the bass in your husband’s voice rattles his words around in your head, simon doesn’t yell often, but god do you hate it when he does.

“simon, i just can’t anymore.” his eyes bulge incredulously at your words, but you ignore his idiotic look and continue. “i’m constantly bending over backwards to do everything for this family and you don’t even appreciate it. hell it doesn’t feel like you love me at all.”

“fuckin’ hell. you think you’re the only one putting in work for this family. what do you think i’m doing all day? and when i’m deployed? ya think i’m just fuckin’ around for fun?”

“oh my- are you serious?! of course i know that you work hard to provide for this family. did you even listen to a word i just said? i have to nag you to clean, to do laundry, to stop giving the kids all the things i tell them they can’t have. i have to literally beg you to kiss me and take me on dates! you never tell me you love me anymore simon!”

the rage behind simon’s eyes dims and he grasps both your hands in his. “love. baby, please you can’t leave me. you’re right, you do so much for us all and i know im shit about saying thank you, but who’s going to do all the stuff ya do if you leave?”

your face starts to grow hot as you begin to boil over with anger. you rip your hands from his hold forcibly. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me! you can’t even convince me to stay because you love me. you want me here so i can do everything for you. you know what? fuck you! i’m so sorry your poor mommy is gone and you need someone to fill that void, and i was stupid enough to play that role for this long, but i’m not doing it anymore.”

“oh you’re a fuckin’ cunt for that. bringing up my mum, you’re fucked in the head!” simon barks at you. you should feel bad, it was a low blow, but you couldn’t care less.

you scramble out of the bed, storming around the room looking for a pen. you’re throwing open drawers with so much force they’re just a hair from ripping straight out. when you eventually find one, you thrust it into simon’s large hand.

“don’t fucking care. you’re an absolute piece of shit. sign the fucking papers, please, so i no longer have to hold back the urge to kill you with my bare hands.”

“what about the kids? you’re just gonna take them away from me?! if you do, i’ll spend every day trying to remind them they’ve got a right bitch for a mum,” simon sneers at you.

all the love you had for simon has vanished, but hearing him say he’d spend eternity making sure your kids hated you? that tore your heart in two. your throat begins to constrict as tears begin to build behind your eyes. you really didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you were suddenly hit with the realization that the life you dreamed of was never going to be real.

you think back to your wedding day, your husband had written the most beautiful vows, which shocked you as you hadn’t expected him to be able to express his love for you that way. he had promised to always make you feel like you deserved the world. suddenly you woke up one day and the man you once loved was gone, replaced by a shitty, co-dependent, workaholic who sucked out all the life in you.

in this moment, you simply prayed that one day, you wouldn’t feel like every choice you made lead to this terrible life you have now.

#mic answers #simon ghost riley x reader #toxichusband!ghost #i hope you know i spent my entire shift drumming up ideas for this so thank you hehe

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

don’t know if ur taking requests but could u make a dom nat x reader fic where they have a toxic break up but hook up after a few weeks being apart cause they are so dependent on eachother

I hate to hate to hate you

Paring: fem!reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: SMUT, toxic relationships, toxic!Nat, older!Nat, younger!reader, drinking, arguments mentioned, possessive!Nat, fingering, oral, degradation, praise kink

A/N: A bit short only 1k words but I hope you still like it

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist-

“Look it’s her” one of my friends pointed out as I gazed across bar. She was right it was her. Her with her red hair and green eyes fixated on the drink in her hands; whiskey like she would always drink it after work. Two years; two year we had spent together and shared everything. She knew my deepest secrets and I knew her, or at least so I thought.

The first year was peaceful Natasha was the perfect girlfriend. She did everything for me put her busy job aside for and always found time for me. I was young and dumb freshly in my second year of college as I waited at a fancy restaurant that’s were I meet her. She was older, a lawyer, rich and good looking on top.

She treated you like a princess making sure you would never have to pay for anything and to be honest that made you see over many red flags. After a while the passion grew cold she’d always work showing you the cold shoulder. When you two would attend business dinners she’d still put on the facade of the loving girlfriend only to fall asleep on the couch while working.

When she’d be intimate with you she’d mostly hate fuck you having you on fall fours as she rammed her strap deep inside your pussy. You enjoyed it too of course she’d always respect your sexual borders but you missed the slow and passionate sex you once had. After two years it was over with a last fight over something minor you had packed your bags and went to stay with your friends.

Now she was sitting there alone; just as alone as you were. You didn’t see her in 6 months still you missed something. No other lover, hands, mouth, or even toy could make you cum like she did. Maybe she had been right in her dirty talk, she had ruined you for everyone else.

Your eyes meet as she looked up signaling you too come over to her. Your friends told you to not do it but it was only a small chat between the two of you. All lies; you wanted her. No, you needed her so before any rational thought could cross you mind you were sitting on the bar stool next to her.

“Long time no see, bunny” she smirked bringing the bitter tasting liquid to her lips. “How have you been Natasha” you asked trying to sound as uninterested in her as possible as if you didn’t care. “I couldn’t be better you know my law firm has been running better than ever” she laughed “and how’s life going with your philosophy major. Found a job yet?” There was judgement in her words she’d always tell you a major in philosophy would be pointless simply a waste of hard earned money.

“Well I’m still a waitress” she chuckled again judging you she had been right. “Not to say I was right but I told you but I told you” She didn’t change of course she didn’t. How could someone like Natasha ever change. “You are still an asshole Natasha” She pulls you closer by the collar her mouth next to your ear. “But you still want me” you felt my face grown hot. “That’s not true” you breathed out. “Oh bunny” her hands grabbed onto your waist “You tell me if I would check your panties right now they wouldn’t be wet.”

“Fuck you Natasha” You whined the you couldn’t denial your attraction towards the older women. “No I’m gonna fuck you”

We ended up in her apartment with your back against the door and her mouth latched onto the soft skin of your neck. You moaned at the feeling of her biting and sucking the flesh of your neck. “No marks” you manage to get out between desperate whimpers. “Too late” she grinned at me.

Her hands grabbed onto my being signaling

you to jump onto her waist. She carried you to the bedroom kicking the door closed behind her. She places you onto her expensive silk sheets. She pushed your dress of your shoulders pulling it down your dress. “No bra?” She groaned as she saw your erected nipples “You dirty little girl”

She latched onto one of your nipples licking over it before sucking on it hard. She still remembered all your sensitive places. You whimpered and moaned pushing her head further down “such an impatient slut. Tell ms did anyone touch what’s mine” She still was in love with you of course she was seemingly ignoring how you hurt each other. “N- No” you whimpered.

She pulled on the waist band of your panties

pulling them down your legs. She kissed down your leg down your clave to your inner thigh and ending at your core she licked over your slit swirling her tongue over your clit. Your hands found their way to her red hair tugging at her roots making her groan into your pussy.

She sucked on your clit savoring your sweet taste. As she kept licking at your pussylips two of her fingers pressed against your gaping hole. Slowly she pushed in making you moan out in utter pleasure. “Tell me who owns you” she whispered just loud enough for you to her. “You Natasha” she smiled trusting her fingers harder “Damn right slut”. She curled her fingers against your G- spot repeatedly making you see stars. “Be a good girl and cum for me” with a last scream of her name you released over her hands and wrists. She helped you through your high.

You closed your eyes feeling way too tired to do anything else as you felt Natasha stroke over your skin. “Ready for round two bunny?”

:)

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Five: A Bad Date @rowaelinscourt

Link to my Rowaelin Month Masterlist

~3K words—welcome to cliché hell.  Enjoy your stay.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

The Words We Share--Part One

Sam Cortland was the absolute definition of asshole and Aelin Galathynius could make her point in three simple facts.  He didn’t tip well.  He spoke for her.  And he consistently forgot when they had dinner plans.

Which was how Aelin found herself sitting at a table alone at one of the nicest restaurants in the city trying not to look at the final roll sitting in the bread basket.  She’d already scarfed down the other three, she really shouldn’t eat the third.  Especially not now as she could catch the looks her waitress and others were passing her way.  She’d at least only gone through one glass of wine and was nursing a water.

Aelin would have owned up to the idea of eating alone, she was a confident woman--she didn’t need anyone’s validation.  By now, it was too late.  Nearly an hour had passed since she’d been seated and she’d told her waitress she was waiting for someone else.  That combined with the fact that she look sexy as hell with a tight green dress, her hair perfectly curled and her make up sharper and neater than any awards show actress.

She’d have to live up to the fact that she’d been stood up.

Hell.

She wished she could say this was the first time Sam had done this.  Wished she could say that he would make it up to her later.  Wished she could say that it didn’t really bother her.

Aelin glanced at her phone.  One missed text but that was from Elide.

>>Elide: anything?

<<Aelin: no. I texted him twice.  It’s been forty-five mins.  I’ve well and good passed the pathetic mark.

>>Elide: ur not pathetic.  Imma report his insta for porn hold on

Aelin rolled her eyes at the message.  Elide had been her friend since college when they were first paired together on a project.  It had turned into a mess of over caffeination and potential misuse of school property but they’d been inseparable ever since.  It was Elide who had helped Aelin get the job she had now with Terrasen Publishing as a content creator.  She had a full social media platform where she could share books, reviews and all the likes.  She even hosted the company's podcast on a bi-weekly basis. 

As far as Aelin was concerned, she was successful.  She was capable.  She was well on her way to reaching so many of her goals.

Sam, it seemed, couldn’t care less about her.

This was supposed to be a dinner to celebrate her promotion.  Dorian, the actual CEO of the company had allowed her to open her own department as Lead Content Creator.  She’d be her own manager, get a pay-raise, have more liberties with what she could do, get an office credit card, hell she’d be able to hire her own assistant.  She’d told Sam she wanted to celebrate by coming here to her favorite restaurant no matter how expensive it was.  She’d worked so hard to get here after all.

And how here she was—alone.

She knew Sam was busy, he was a lawyer after all, but after nearly eight months of dropping everything for him, she’d thought he would give her just one night.  One night for her.

Aelin felt tears begin to prick that back of her eyes and had never been more grateful for the dim lighting of this restaurant. Hopefully no one would see the silver lining her eyes, the growing flush of embarrassment to her skin.  

It was made all the worse when Aelin noticed a familiar person walking towards her.  Someone she wanted to see even less than she wanted to admit that Sam was standing her up.

Hell.

Kaltain Rompier had been hired after Aelin by a few months and ever since decided she was the one who should be in charge of everything in the office.  To the point of undermining and condescending everything Aelin did.  In the end, Aelin was the one with the promotion and the office but Kaltain still made her life a living hell any chance she got.

“Aelin,” Kaltain crooned as she came to the table.  And it wasn’t even to give a brief pass by, no, Kaltain had a look of feral delight gleaming in her black eyes and Aelin could feel the attack coming. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Behind Kaltain was her date, a man Aelin had never seen before and average enough looking.  He didn’t seem to be even paying attention to the drama Kaltain was eager to whip out.

“Kaltain.” Aelin offered one of her own beaming smiles in return.  Despite the tension radiating through her body, she was determined to be civil.  She would not stoop to the other woman’s level. She would not stoop.

Kaltain didn’t bother waiting for the kill.  “All alone tonight?”

Her full red lips pouted sympathetically, but Aelin had spent enough time around the woman to know how much delight she was taking in Aelin’s potential misery and embarrassment.

She could lie—her date was in the bathroom.  She could own up to eating alone. On a Friday night.  At the hottest restaurant in Terrasen.  She could use Aedion as a scapegoat and have him come by the office on Monday and make a big show of—

“Sorry I’m late,” a deep, accented voice cut through Aelin’s wall panic as a giant, stupidly attractive man slid between Kaltain and Aelin’s table. “Traffic was impossible tonight.”

Aelin stared up slack jawed at her savior.

Rowan Whitethorn in all his glory stood before her.  His silver hair was coiffed back out of his face, chin riddled with stubble, and a black suit that fit his broad frame perfectly.  His green eyes gave her a significant look, one brow raised meaningfully.

Aelin pulled herself together and let out a relaxed, charmed laugh.  At least she hoped that’s what it sounded liked because this was Rowan Whitethorn.  The company’s biggest author.  One of the most sought-after writers at conventions who had multiple Hollywood deals piling at his feet.

He was also the biggest ass Aelin had ever worked with.

“Let’s hope you're not this late for your next deadline,” she said, voice light and easy.  Or as close to it as possible.  But Aelin could see a muscle tick in Rowan’s jaw and watched as a smirk drew across his face.  Savior of the night or not, she wanted to punch him.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Rowan drawled, his thick Scottish accent low and hard. “We know how punctual you are.”

“It’s a good quality to have,” she said.  She narrowed her eyes to which Rowan grinned.  He was insufferable. An ass.  Arrogant.  And—

Rowan flicked a lazy look at Kaltain. “Was there something you needed Kaltain?”

The dismissal was clear and left no room for argument.  It was such a fascinating sight to see Kaltain at a loss for words that Aelin forgot her disdain for Rowan.  Kaltain had always been a busy body around the office, always gossiping and looking for a way to undermine everyone else as long as she came out on top.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Aelin,” Kaltain said, her cold eyes cutting into Aelin.  And with that, she turned away with her date.

It was far too satisfying watching them go.  Even Aelin had to admit that.  Though, she’d be damned if she admitted so to Rowan.

She finally, reluctantly, turned her attention to him.  

He leaned in his chair looking utterly at ease with himself and the situation.  With his features as stoney and impossible to read as ever it would appear the last five minutes hadn’t even occurred.  But Aelin could see the subtle gleam in his eyes.  Sharp and calculating like a hawk.

She’d had five years to get to know him, he was Terrasen’s biggest client and she’d been the one to personally promote his first book on her review blog, not to mention act as a beta reader for early drafts of his work.

He was talented.  Remarkable even.  She’d never seen anyone wield a metaphor or create an image as he could.  It was a shame they hated each other.

It had started innocently enough.  In her critiques early on, Aelin hadn’t held back.  She’d given the early drafts of his manuscript’s hell.  She wouldn’t apologize for it.  Wouldn’t he want his book to be the best it could?  To have enough feedback to work with and accept or decline?  Hell, he didn’t even have to take most of her opinions if he didn’t want to, but she was on the team of readers.

Well, he hadn’t taken well to most of her words and Aelin found a giant box of red pens waiting on her desk one morning from him.

Seems like you ran out last week.

Asshole.

She didn’t hold back though.  Not at all.

Between overly marked up pages, passive aggressive notes, and blissful ignorance—they’d never known harmony in all their time of working together.  The closest they’d gotten was in the last seven months while Rowan was finishing up a new manuscript and had avoided the office all together.  

Aelin could hardly admit it to herself, but it had been a strange few months. She’d found herself looking up to catch a glimpse of him in the hallway in all that time.  She hated herself just a little for it.

“What do you want, Whitethorn?” she asked, she did her best not to glare, knowing their table was in direct line of sight of where Kaltain was now sitting.

Rowan raised a brow as he leaned forward and took Aelin’s wine glass.  He took a long sip, never breaking eye contact.

“That’s the thanks I get?” he asked, accent a low rumble that Aelin could feel straight in her belly. “By my accounts, I saved you from a rather embarrassing conversation.”

Aelin raised her chin. “Kaltain is harmless.”

Rowan only grinned. “Oh, aye?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Aelin insisted.

“She’s never been an easy person and I doubt my time away has changed anything,” Rowan said.  He spoke with such sincerity that Aelin could only stare at him.

In her silence, the waitress came back by their table with a new glass of wine for Rowan.  The bastard then went ahead and ordered for her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“We’re on a date, are we not?” he asked.

“Not.” She stared at him; his eyes sharp even in the low lights of the restaurant.  His tattoos peaked out beneath the collar of his shirt.  She’d never seen them in their full glory and now really wished she could see just a little bit more.

“Shame,” Rowan sighed.  He glanced idly into the bread basket and took the one remaining roll for himself. “I really was going to pay.”

Aelin sighed and leaned back in her chair.  As she looked at him, she tried to understand what he was trying to accomplish with this.  He’d chased off Kaltain and saved her from feeling like a fool…but why?

They’d always played a game like this--one of touch and go, of give and take, of hate and hate some more.  

She decided to try and approach this from another direction.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked, fingering the stem of her own wine glass.

That grin of his returned, a flash, but impossible to miss.  Aelin tried to reel herself in.  She couldn’t let him rile her up like this.

“Was out with some friends.” He nodded to the bar behind her.

Aelin turned in her seat, catching sight of two other men, one with curly blond hair and the other with a cut of shaggy black hair.  The blond gave her an enthusiastic wave when he saw her looking.  Aelin scowled.

“We were celebrating my finishing another book and getting Havilliards seal of approval,” Rowan explained, drawing Aelin’s attention back. “And I saw you sitting by yourself when Kaltain showed up.  I know the two of you don’t really get along.”

And how long did you wait before stepping in? She wanted to ask.  But she knew she wouldn’t want the answer.  He’d probably been there since the beginning watching as she slowly spun into madness.

She glanced at her phone but didn’t touch it.  It hadn’t lit up or vibrated or given any indication that anyone was worried about her.  She tried to not let it sting. A full hour at this point.  Maybe she should break it off with Sam.  Officially this time.

“I figured you’d rip my head off if I came over sooner,” Rowan continued, his voice softening just a touch. “Figured it was none of my business.”

Aelin didn’t need his pity, didn’t want it either.  “Yeah, well it’s not.”

He didn’t get the chance to respond as the waitress returned with their food.  A steak for Rowan, salmon for Aelin.  Exactly what she would have wanted for herself, even with the side of risotto.

Her stomach growled just loud enough that Rowan definitely heard.  She grabbed her fork and started eating.  Angrily.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Aelin pointed her fork at him.

“New book have a title?” she asked.

“Why would you care?”

“So I can figure out all the puns to call it on my podcast,” she said.

Rowan smirked. “I’m on your podcast now?”

“You? No.  Your book?  Sure.”  She took another bite of salmon and sighed. “It’s more fun that way.”

“Right,” he said. “‘Course.”

She watched him as he cut his steak, medium rare, and dredged it in a bit of peppercorn sauce.  He wasn’t at all uncomfortable with the act they found themselves in.  Not at all concerned over the fact that his friends were leaving (Aelin couldn’t help but check).  He was focused on her.

She didn’t know how she felt about that.

“So, the book?”

He paused before shrugging just barely. “Nothing special.  Ancient weaponry and the likes.  You’ll hate it.”

Aelin rolled her eyes.  Rowan had written several historical nonfiction novels surrounded with ancient lore, weaponry, and conspiracies.  It all seemed interesting when you thought about it--but Aelin loved the fantasy.  She loved the whimsy.  The strange.  And while Rowan's books were well written and captivating, they never quite captured her.

“Are you finally going to write a book about kilts?  You said you would.”  She couldn’t help but smile at that.  His first book had been a look into early Scottish history, connecting the Old Language and how it shaped fairy tales and other shared stories.  She told him it needed more kilts; he’d told her it wasn’t that kind of book.

Ever since, the same question had been asked.

“Not this time,” Rowan said, returning the smile.

“Shame,” Aelin said, “I would have given you an excellent review.”

The rest of dinner progressed in somewhat amicable silence.  They only exchanged a few words about what the next few weeks would look like for Rowan’s new manuscript.  And Aelin of course ordered a slice of chocolate cheesecake to go.

When the waitress returned with the bill, Rowan swept up the little black book and deposited his credit card all before Aelin could ask for a split bill.

She raised a brow in silent questioning.

“I told ye I’d pay,” he said, accent slipping just a bit deeper than he usually allowed it.  Something flashed in his eyes that kept Aelin from arguing further.  

So she allowed him to pay for the meal, which couldn’t have been cheap, and help her stand and put on her jacket.

It wasn’t until they were outside in the warm summer night that Aelin stepped away from him, eyes narrowed.  She fully expected him to turn back to the grumpy old writer she’d always seen him as, but as she took him in she noted that smoldering look remained in his eyes.  

The sun was close to setting, casting them both in the soft golden light of dusk.  Despite how it was nearing nine, it was still warm.  Though, Aelin felt more than just the lingering effects of the summer heat rolling through her.  

She had no idea what to make of the last hour with Rowan.  No idea what to make of the look that he still held her with.

“You’re going to give me hell tomorrow, aren’t you?” he asked.

Aelin grinned, she couldn’t help it. “Oh, I guarantee it.”

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t missed this subtle game of theirs.  The verbal sparring had been the only thing getting her through the work day on most occasions.  He was aggravating, certainly, but the only one who hadn’t dismissed her, who would take her shit and return it just the same. 

Rowan flagged down a cab for her and opened the door for her, resting a hand on the small of her back.  The action was so unlike anything she’d experienced before.  All the other men she’d dated, or known casually, would have simply left her on the side of the road to flag her own cab or just toss her in the cab and be done with it.

Aelin remembered her dad treating her mom well and how he would always open her doors, make sure she was taken care of, buy flowers and chocolates…but then Rhoe had died.  It had been ten years since the accident, but Aelin would never forget the kind of man he’d been.

“Thank-you,” she said.  She even managed to muster up a sincere smile, even knowing that as soon as the cab pulled away, she’d be lamenting over the embarrassment at being stood up and found out by Rowan Whitethorn.

His expression was unreadable even as he made sure she was tucked into the back of the cab.  Then he leaned in, close enough that she could see the cool green of his eyes.

“Whoever stood you up is an idiot, Galathynius.”  He pulled back before she could respond and shut the door firmly before patting the top of the cab.

The cabbie shot off into the street before Aelin could even register Rowan’s words.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Tag are not working 😕 please reblog! It would mean so much!

#rowaelin #rowaelin month #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #throne of glass #tog #fanfiction

[forsworned]

hello!

I am here with a bombastic-fantastic idea-

Ex-husband! Michikatsu x fem! Ex-wife! Reader?? Modern au? They divorced out of a misunderstanding ? who meet again? Like the reader is hired by muzan as an employee? But reader wouldn't know that michi works there as well aa muzan's secratry? Cuz before divorce he used work somewhere else and now in office he goes buy the name kokushibo so reader didn't knew until they were stuck in elevator together?

Angst-comfort-fluff?

👀

↺﹐true love never dies

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ ofc i can! i hope u enjoy this. i wanted to rly finish it by tn since i've been busy w life + all those great things that love to make ur life as hectic as possible when u wanna wind down and write. anyways i enjoy writing for michi. he's a funny guy. also this is not proofread lol

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! !

The end of their marriage had been a long time coming. Between the constant arguing to getting separate bedrooms. Their miscommunication had slowly chipped away at their marriage and before they could even begin to salvage it it was much too late. Albeit a painful realization when they were sitting across from one another with their lawyers present at their divorce proceedings, the pair had been too exhausted from one another to make any attempt at mending their relationship.

[Name] sighed as she entered the elevator to her office building. Today marked the 5th anniversary of the end of their marriage and ironically enough the anniversary of the beginning of their marriage. She paused to glance at her watch. She was fifteen minutes earlier than usual today. A new record for her usual on-time behavior, but hey, she'll take it.

As she pressed the button to her floor and the elevator doors began to close, a hand shoots in between and the doors flood open again. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized who was on the other side. A moment of silence had fallen between them as he stood there, unblinkingly gawking at her. A small bead of sweat fell from his temple as he slowly entered the elevator beside her.

Michikatsu was not one for confrontation. In fact, in the face of it he would do his very best to ignore it especially when it came down to any existing previous martial problems between him and [name] (shocker). As many arguments as they had had in the past, Michikatsu had always tried to keep their "relationship" (or lack there of) as respectful as possible. He never raised his voice at her, not once, but instead was a hefty avoidant.

It wasn't that Michikatsu and [name] didn't know that they worked in the same building, they just never happened to be in the same place at the same time. Michikatsu worked late security shifts, while [name] worked early morning shifts at the offices when she was at the office. Usually she was working remotely from home, but had decided to get out of the house. She was already regretting the decision.

Michikatsu, however, had decided to take over the shift of his bedridden coworker and he, too, had regretted being kind enough to take over.

Both parties seemed consumed by their own thoughts, that was until the elevator doors opened again, but not on the floor that they were expected to be on.

For a moment their was sigh of relief, well that is until Michikatsu had seen who was on the other side.

"Good morning, Kokushibou." The voice was low and even.

[Name] watched as the fair skinned man had entered the elevator. His features handsome yet stoic. She raised a brow at utterance of the new name her ex-husband was given.

Kokushibou?

Kokushibou had felt pang of annoyance at his bosses' arrival, but even more annoyed that he had used his changed name in front of his ex-wife. Not that he knew, but still. He hadn't expected him to be so early in the office today.

What a nuisance. Michikatsu thought to himself.

"Good morning, Muzan." He replied cooly as he hit the button that would speed up the process of the elevator doors closing.

Muzan crimson gaze fell upon, [name]. "Good morning."

"Good morning." She said without looking at him.

Muzan was not an idiot. He had done his thorough research on all of his employees. He knew that Michikatsu's real name was, well, Michikatsu and not, in fact, Kokushibou. But he decided to keep that to himself.

Muzan straightened his tie. "It would mean a lot to me if you actually waited for me."

"It's not even my shift yet." He replied bluntly.

How long is this elevator ride anyway? [Name] thought to herself as she looked down at her watch.

Running into her ex-husband and this Michael Jackson look-alike was not on her list of things to do today.

"Yes," Muzan glances down at his own watch. "It appears you are early."

Ding!

The elevator doors finally opened and [name] felt like she could breathe again as she nearly collasped out of it. One swift movement from Michikatsu and she was inches away from the floor. Strands of her hair flew to the front of her face as they hung down in front of her. She slowly felt herself getting lifted back to a vertical stance. It was then that she felt her heart pounding in her ears.

Her eyes wide as she met Michikatsu's gaze who was equally as shocked. After what seemed like an eternity he finally spoke.

"Are you alright, [Name]?"

The way he said her name made her heart jump out of her chest. She only nodded.

"Are you guarding me or your ex-wife?"

Sly bastard. Michikatsu thought to himself.

It had become apparent that his alias really meant nothing at this point.

As the pair had straightened themselves out in the empty white hallways, [name] looked at the man inquistively.

"How do you know I'm his ex-wife? Did he tell you?"

A small smile on Muzan's wife. "I do my research, Mrs. Tsugikuni. Or did you change your last name yet?"

He waves a stack of papers in front of her face. Michikatsu is flabbergasted at this point as he glances over at her.

"Were you going to finalize changing your surname back to your maiden one?" A look of sorrow and betrayal falls over his usual stoic features. It pained her to even see him that way.

Why?

"Why do you even care?" Her voice barely even above a whisper.

It felt like they were the only ones there. Muzan slowly leaving their minds.

Michikatsu stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets as he glanced outside. The hustle and bustle of Shibuya below them. He was usually a quiet man. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. One of the many, many reasons on their laundry list of martial issues that caused their divorce. He never felt the need to open up. Only keeping the same poker face on his mien.

"It doesn't matter. You came in the office to work didn't you? So go attend to your duties as I do mine." His voice trailed off. What a flair for the dramatic he had.

"You're so cold, Michikatsu...or Kokushibou. Whatever your stupid name is now. You could never just open up to me. I don't why I thought..." Her voice trailed off. Tears threatening to emerge from her eyes.

Michikatsu peered over at her. She was standing behind him, trying to wipe away at her tears. He remained silent as he fished out his handkerchief, took her chin between his fingers and gently dabbed away at the corners of her eyes. "You'll ruin your make up."

She attempted to move away from him. "Stop."

"No." He gently turned her face to meet his again. She almost gasped at the expression on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed in frustration and his eyes were narrow as he fixated on her puffy face.

Her eyes shook as they glistened from the wetness of her tears and her lip quivered not knowing what to say.

Michikatsu closed his eyes and his face relaxed as he let out a sigh. "You've always been a difficult one, [name]."

"Me?!" She exclaimed at him. "You're the one who never told me how you really felt! Do you know how exhausting it is to chase down after someone who claims to love you?"

She began to hiccup as tears cascaded down her lovely face. Michikatsu couldn't help but soften up at her current demeanor. She suddenly felt her chest thump against his. His arm around her waist and his hand holding the back of her head as he enveloped her into a tight embrace. She is left perplexed by his actions.

"G-get off of me." She said between hiccups. Her eyes watered as she buried her face into his chest.

"You don't seem like you want to move." He replied plainly. Her hands lift to fist his button down.

"Shut up..."

They stayed like that for a moment, unmoving. Hearts between fast as the silence grew and thoughts ruminated on the past.

"[name]." He finally spoke.

She pulled away from his to meet his gaze, but he was looking out the window. His vermillion hues now on her and she instantly felt soothed by them. A different look in his eyes. Softer, more palatable.

"I'm sorry for how I hurt you. As my wife then, I shouldn't have ever treated that way." He carded his fingers through her hair and tenderly caressed her face. "I was afraid of truly loving you then. If I loved you too much, you'd slip through my fingers. I know it is..."

"Stupid, idiotic, immature." She finished for him.

He grabbed her face with both hands, his face now very stoic yet agreeable. "Yes!"

He nodded his head. "Yes, [name]..."

His voice croaked as his eyes watered. A scene that had never fell upon her eyes for the five years that they were married.

"I thought about it everyday for the past three years. It has torn my soul apart. How could I have lead the love of my life down a path to destruction? It was nothing but pure self-sabotage." He shook his head as a tear slipped from his eyes. "I know you can never forgive--"

"--Shut up." She cut him off. [Name] could feel nothing but empathy for her ex-husband. No matter how hard she tried, she could never truly hate him. And trust me, she has tried.

"It will take more than just a few words here and there to make things right."

Michikatsu nodded. "I know."

She wiped away his tear and kissed the apple of his cheek. His eyes widened at her gentle touch.

"Do you want to make it up to me?" She asked, hopeful. So stupidly hopeful. She wanted to slap herself silly for how much of an idiot she may have sounded at that moment, but she wanted nothing more than to love him again. To change things for the better.

She smiled at him. "After all it is our anniversary."

A rare smile etched into his lovely features. "This is true."

They shared a moment of silence as they gazed into each other eyes. The sound of piano jazz playing softly in the back as he leaned into her.

"Let me make it right."

She raised her brows at him with a smile. An expression that he adored on her. The look of knowing yet it was warm and curious.

"And how will you start?"

"With a kiss?" He whispered against her lips.

Her grin grew. "I won't object."

His soft lips pressed against hers and she felt her feet no longer touch the ground as he lifted her with ease. The last time he had done the gesture was on their wedding day. A small flashback to the photo that used to grace their nightstand.

He pulled away for a moment still holding her. "I will do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman, I swear by it."

Her lips curled. "I'll see it when I believe it."

In a split second she was being carried bridal style and toward the elevator again.

Her giggles echoed in the large hallways. "Where are we going?"

Michikatsu grinned at her. "To make it up to you."

She smacked his chest. "What do you mean!"

"Yes, what do you mean indeed, Michikatsu?" Muzan's voice interjected their precious little moment.

Michikatsu nonchalantly gazed over at his boss. "Oh, right. Muzan, I'll be taking the rest of the day off."

[Name] can't help the pleased expression on her face.

Muzan cocked an amused brow at his employee. "Is that so?"

"Yes." He replied as the elevator doors opened and he stepped in.

Muzan waved the papers in his hand. "So, you won't be needing these anymore will you, Mrs. Tsugikuni?"

Michikatsu peeked over at you and he watched with delight as you smiled and shook your head. The last glance over at Muzan before the elevator doors closed was his shredding the papers with a grin that almost looked like "Mission accomplished" written on his sly face.

"Sly bastard." They both voiced. There was an exchange of looks before they both laughed.

"He is a sly bastard, isn't he?" Michikatsu kissed her cheek and she felt her heart flutter like it was their first time meeting all over again.

"Yes, indeed." She agreed. "So, how will you start by making it up to me?"

The elevator doors opened and a hoard of eyes were gawking back at them, but none of that mattered to Michikatsu. [Name] on the otherhand was a bit embarrassed, nonetheless, enjoying herself.

"I'm feeling like I want to waltz with you."

Her cheeks warmed. "You wanna dance with me?"

He gazed down at her softly. It had been years since they danced together. A past time that [name] especially enjoyed with him. He was a great dancer after all. It was the same way that they met.

"It's been awile, hasn't it, my love?"

She nodded. "It has."

He kissed her lips, stealing her breath away. A sense of renewal in their rebudding love.

"Then let us dance the night away. I want to get lost in you, again. Like old times." Their was a wondrous and whimisical twinkle in his eyes. One that was setting her heart on fire. The Michikatsu that she had loved all those years ago was finally clawing its way out again. "I will never stop impressing you."

"And you call Muzan a sly bastard." She laughed. Michikatsu's cheeks pinkened and then laughed along with her.

"It's how I got you in the first place, and it's how I will get you, again."

[Name] stared up at him with doe eyes before swatting at him. "You think you're so suave, don't you?"

He walked over to the car, ignorning the stares of passerbyers as he gestured over to the valet to open the car door and gently placed her in the passenger seat. He kissed your forehead and gave her a toothy grin that made her insides churn with delight. "Only for you, my dear."

And for the first time in years that night, [name] and Michikatsu danced and danced and danced until their legs caved and they were dragging each other back to bed. Arms and legs in an interwined heap of reminised love and glory days and sweet whispers.

"I love you, [name]. I always have and I always will." Michikatsu murmured against her hair. His eyes were closed and his voice was husky and low with sleep.

She nestled into his chest. The overwhelming feeling of love lulling her to sleep. "I love you, too, Michikatsu. I always have and I always will."

And for the first time in years, Micikatsu had fallen asleep with a smile on his face.

copyright ©kingkyoujurou all rights reserved.

#NOT PROOFREAD #kny #kny x reader #michikatsu tsugikuni #michikatsu x reader #kokushibo #kokushibou x reader #kny fluff #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #kny x y/n #kny imagines

[afictionaladventure16]

I'm a sucker for angst 😭 I saw ur Quinceañera post and I wa wondering if you could do another part of "Taking it all in" where Pedro and Daughter!reader are planning for it or Daughter!reader is having the most fun she'd had in a while and then estranged mother comes in and things get angsty (with fluff in the end of it)

Taking It All In (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pt. IV

Word Count: 3,404

A/N: Some of this I got the idea from One Day At a Time, but I was writing this already when I saw your request! Thank you for requesting it!! Hope you enjoy!!

Previously

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Song: De Nina A Mujer by Janet Dacal

Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and mildly edited fic...

A Quinceanera, it was the last thing you wanted to think about, but it was one of the main things you were looking forward to this year. For years you had imagined your quinceanera, what kind of dress you would have, and the theme too. For years, you were excited for this day, the day you get to begin planning. Yet, it all came crumbling down. Instead of the excitement of the event, it felt more like a distraction from the real situation. 

Over the past three months, your mother had been on a rampage, determined to take your dad to court over custody. After your little run-in, your dad mentioned how he had run into her as well. He never kept anything from you and with the threat she had made that day, he wasn’t going to start. He let you in on everything that was going on and you appreciated him being honest with you, even if sometimes you didn’t want to hear it. 

You didn’t understand your mother's motive, why she suddenly had an interest in your life after all these years. You thought that if it were to ever happen if your mom ever came back into your life, you would be happy. Now, knowing what you know now, you couldn’t help but feel angry. 

Somehow, your mother managed to get supervised visits on the weekends. They were couple-hour visits on Saturdays and Sundays, your dad wasn’t allowed to be in the area during that time, so you opted to have your aunt join. It was either her or the lawyers and you wanted someone you knew to be around. 

At first, the visits were spent in silence, your mother asking questions and you responding in as few words as possible. Then she began to make luxurious promises. A nice vacation with the family as a whole on a cruise, Disneyworld vacation as a family, or even Cancun as a family. It was always ‘as a family’ and you didn’t know if she was including or excluding your dad in the phrase. 

“I liked singing as a kid, did you like singing?” Your mother asked. You glanced at your phone for the fifth time in ten minutes. Only an hour left and you can go home. 

You shrugged, “I was in the school choir in middle school,” you responded. 

She cleared her throat, “So, you’re fourteen, that means we should be planning your quince soon,” she said with a big smile. 

“Already am,” you stated. “Dad began planning a little before I turned fourteen, sometimes I think he’s a bit more excited than I am.” 

Your mother’s face fell for a second, but she was quick to put a smile on her face, “Well, quince planning is no place for a dad. Maybe it should be our thing,” she began. “You know, to try and reconnect?” 

Your tia could sense your uneasiness, “well, it’d be difficult to do, since it’s only a month away,” she commented. 

“Only a month away? It can’t be that soon already,” your mother said as she pondered about it. She looked at her phone, “wow, I guess it is,” she commented. “So, um, that means you probably already sent your invitations out.” 

You gave her a nod, “Sent them out last week.” 

She nods, “That’s great.” 

You sighed, you knew what she was trying to get at. Was it the right thing to invite her? Would that mean you would have to invite her family too? You hadn’t even met your siblings yet, let alone her husband. “Um, did you want to go?” 

She smiled, “What mother wouldn’t want to go?” 

You shrugged, “I mean, I’d have to talk to Dad about it.” 

“Of course,” she smiled, “I just would hate to miss another big event in your life.” 

You gave her another nod, “Honesty, I just don’t know how comfortable I’d be with… you know, your kids being there since I’ve never even met them.”

She scoffed, “But they’re your brother and sister.” 

“Yeah, but, I’ve never met them and I don’t think I’m ready to meet them.” 

She let out a dry chuckle, “They’ve been dying to meet you, Y/N, they’re your brother and sister after all.” 

You sighed, “I know they’re my brother and sister,” you snapped. “I’m just not ready, okay?” You looked over at Javiera, who just gave you a nod. 

She glanced at her watch, “We should get going,” she began. “Y/N, you have a big essay that you need to work on, remember?” You nodded, understanding what she meant. There was no essay, but your mother didn’t need to know that. 

Your mother cleared her throat, “I’ll see you next week?” She said with a smile. 

“Yeah,” you said as you got up from the picnic bench and walked over to the car. 

Your mother looked over at Javiera with pleading eyes. Javiera, even though she didn’t like Gabriela, felt a little sorry for her, “Give her time,” she suggested. 

Gabriela sighed, “How much more time does she need?” 

“More than you can give her,” Javiera muttered. 

“I know you don’t like me.” 

“No shit,” Javiera stopped herself, “I can’t deal with this right now, I’ll see you next week.” Javiera got into the car, she was half expecting you to say something to her but wasn’t surprised when you remained quiet. 

You continued to remain quiet for the duration of the drive, your mind wandering into an abyss that Javiera didn’t want to interrupt. Maybe you needed time to think about everything that had just happened and you were thankful for that time. For some odd reason, car rides were just the best time to just think. But, like all car rides, they come to an end. 

Walking into the apartment, your dad engulfed you in a hug, it was routine at this point. He would bombard you with hugs as soon as you got home from a visit as if you had been deprived of it for the past few hours. 

“How’d it go?” your dad asked as soon as Javiera walked into the apartment.

You gave him a shrug as you tossed your things onto the couch, “Gabriela wants to be invited to the Quince,” your aunt answered for you. 

“What?” Pedro looked over at his sister in disbelief, “What did you tell her?” he looked over at you. 

“I told her I’d talk to you,” you finally responded, taking a seat on the couch.

“Well, what do you think?” Pedro asked as he sat beside you, “Do you want to invite her?” 

You shrugged, “I feel obligated to.” 

He shook his head, “you’re not obligated to invite anyone you’re not comfortable inviting.” 

You sighed, “I know, I just… I don’t know. If I invite her then I feel like she’d be upset because I wouldn’t want her… family to come along.” 

Pedro took in a deep breath, “It’s up to you, Mija. You call the shots when it comes to your Quince.” 

“What do you think?” 

Pedro looked over at his sister, who stood nearby, she gave him a shrug. He then looked back over at you, “I think if she really wants to be a part of your life, she’d be fine with any decision you make. Whether that’s not inviting her or inviting her but not her… family. Whatever you decide to do, I support you.” 

“Even if it’s a dumb decision?” 

He kissed your forehead, “Even if it’s a dumb decision.” 

You didn’t make your decision right away, as a matter of fact, you didn’t make a decision until two weeks before the event. Deciding was hard, but you decided that if she was really wanting to make the effort then she’d respect your decisions. 

“You can come,” you said as you got up from the same picnic bench you had been meeting at over the past few months. 

Her eyes lit up like a kid at a candy store, “Really?” She took a step forward, and you took a step back. 

“But only you,” you continued. 

“W-what?” 

“I’m just not comfortable with the idea of them being there… It’s an important day for me-” 

“And you should want to share it with them,” she pleaded. 

You were beginning to think it was a mistake, “I should if I had known them for a longer period of time… but I don’t. I only know their names and whatever stories you told me about them. I need you to respect my decision.” 

She sighed, “Alright.” 

You dug through your bag, pulling out an invitation. “Here’s the invitation,” you said handing her the invitation. 

She took the invitation, giving you a small smile. “See you next week?” You nodded, before walking back to the car. 

The day of your Quinceñera was everything you could imagine. Your dress was Y/F/C, it wasn’t as big as most girls’ Quinceñera dresses, mostly because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to do anything if it were. You wore a tiara that your dad had specifically picked out. 

You made your grand entrance right after your Quince court did, you had a good friend from school to be your chambelan. Your Tia had teased you about it, but he was only a friend. Shortly after the entrance, some of your family members, including your padrinos (Godparents) which were Oscar and his wife, took the opportunity to say a few words. 

Your dad announced that he would say something after the father-daughter dance, mentioning how he didn’t want to get emotional too early in the night. Even though he had been emotional throughout the day. 

After your tia said a few words, it was time for dinner. You frantically looked around for your mom, you felt horrible that she wasn’t included for a good amount of the reception.

You spotted her at a table off to the side, “You look so beautiful!” she greeted you with a hug. 

“Thank you!” you smiled. “I was thinking, I feel bad you’re being left out of-” 

“Don’t worry about that, Y/N,” she smiled, “I get it, I wasn’t part of the planning committee, so doing things last minute would make things difficult.” 

“Well, not all things are that difficult, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to do like a mother-daughter dance? Dad said he’s willing to give up the spotlight for a few minutes,” you looked over at your dad who was, in his terms, killing it on the dance floor. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his moves. 

She sighed, “That’s sweet,” she wanted to feel happy about it, she really did. “Alright.” 

“Great!” you grinned from ear to ear. “Also, I was thinking, maybe next week we can talk about maybe… um…” you let out a dry chuckle, “Maybe taking the kids to the park or something?” 

Gabriela looked at you in disbelief, “really?” 

“Let’s talk about it next week?” She gave you a nod before you walked off. Why couldn’t she feel happy about this? It was what she wanted, what she begged for, but now it was in her hands and she was having trouble feeling happy with all the guilt she felt. 

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself. 

Pedro, on the other hand, was slowly coming to terms with the situation. He saw how happy you were today and he allowed himself to be happy too. He walked away from the dance floor, looking over at Gabriela, she paced around by the exit. He wondered what she was doing, she had to be on the dance floor in a few minutes. 

He looked around for you, easily spotting you at one of the tables talking to a family member. He let out a sigh, walking over to Gabriela, “Gabriela?” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. 

“Fuck,” she muttered again, as she made her way out of the banquet hall. 

“Gabriela!” Pedro exclaimed, following her out. “Que te pasa?” 

She couldn’t help but chuckle, “You remember the night I told you I was pregnant?” Pedro nodded, “you asked me the same thing.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. 

He shook his head, “No,” he hissed. “Don’t do this to her.” 

“I’m sorry, Pedro, I really am.” 

“Don’t do this, Gabriela!” He said louder, “Do you have any idea how happy she is right now and you’re just gonna tear that down!” 

“I know, I know!” 

“No, you don’t, because you won’t be the one picking up the pieces!” Gabriela let out a sob, “If you leave, don’t expect a welcoming party.” 

“Pedro, please.” 

“Don’t ‘Pedro, please’ me! You’re tearing my daughter apart, Gabriela. No puedo mirar la asi, (I can’t see her like that) you don’t know how bad she got because of you. You don’t know what I had to do just to see her smile again! I told you I didn’t want to see you do more damage to my little girl and I was naive to think you could have changed.” 

“I deserve a chance to get to know her-” 

“You had your chance Fifteen years ago and you gave it up.” Gabriela wiped away her tears, “Why did you even come back, huh?” 

Gabriela crossed her arms in front of her chest, “My husband, he’s um, he’s running for Governor-” 

“Stop.” 

“But I swear, that wasn’t the only reas-” 

“But it’s the main reason!” Pedro looked at Gabriela with disgust, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“I really wanted to get to know her and to-” 

Pedro shook his head, “It’s a little hard to believe that right now, Gabriela.” Pedro could hear the announcement of the Mother-Daughter dance, “If you want to prove me wrong, you’d walk inside right now and dance with our daughter.” 

“Pedro,” she pleaded. 

“Demostrar que estoy equivocado, Gabriela.” (Prove me wrong). 

She shook her head, “No puedo, Pedro. Necesito tiempo.” (I need time). 

“Gabriela, has tenido tiempo.” (You’ve had time) Pedro watched as Gabriela turned around, pulling out keys from her purse, “Gabriela,” he called out, but she didn’t stop. “Gabriela, Don’t do this!” She got in her car and drove off. 

The announcement had been made five minutes ago, and everyone had gotten off the dance floor so you could have the spotlight. The DJ announced the dance again, and you smiled as you looked around. Your heart dropped when you couldn’t spot her. Was it too good to be true? to think she would ever want to stay a part of your life. The intro of the song slowly began to fade in, and tears began to well up in your eyes. All you wanted was for your mother to finally step up and be a part of your life, but just when you thought you could forgive her she leaves you. 

You spotted your dad walking back into the banquet hall, his heart ached as he saw you standing alone on the dance floor. You looked at him with hopeful eyes, but he shook his head walking over to where you stood in the middle of the dance floor. He noticed tears begin to well up in your eyes, “Hey, hey, hey, I got you,” he whispered as he took your hand and began slowly leading you into the dance. 

He led the dance, slowly swaying from side to side, “Papi, she-” 

“I know, Mija, I know,” he whispered, you leaned your head on his chest as he settled his gently on top of yours. “Don’t worry, Cariño, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said softly. “Let’s just forget about it for the night,” he said in a hopeful manner. 

It was hard to just forget about it, it was your mother. The woman who was so desperate to have you in her life threatened to take full custody of you, and now she was nowhere in sight. You let out a shaky sigh, “You know, you used to dance to this song when you were little,” your dad began to say. The song was close to an end, “telling me about how you wanted to dance with me to this song at your quince,” he let out a dry chuckle. “Now here we are,” he pulled away, taking your hand to give you a twirl, “De Nina a Mujer,” he commented. 

For a moment, you forgot what had just happened, all of the anger and sadness vanished. You remembered the memories you had with your father and even though something was always missing, it was always filled with his efforts in trying to be both parents for you. The song slowly faded to an end and everyone began to clap, your dad pulled you in for an embrace, “Ya no eres un nina,” (You're no longer a little girl) his voice shook, “pero siempre seras mi bebe.” (but you'll always be my baby)He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

The night continued on as planned, your court did an amazing surprise dance and your dad cried a handful of times throughout the other planned events. Finally, your dad took a hold of the mic, and the music slowly faded out as people made their way off the dance floor. 

“I just want to come on here and say a few words,” he began to say. “I’ve been avoiding it because my baby girl is no longer a baby,” his voice shook. “I am extremely proud of everything she has accomplished in her life so far and I am proud to say that I am her father. She makes me proud every single day,” He looked over at you. “Mija, you’re gonna do wonderful things in life, you are my biggest blessing in life and I a grateful for you every single day.” Tears welling up in your eyes, “Soon enough you’ll think you won’t need your old dad anymore, but just know I will be here no matter what. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do in life. Feliz Cumpleaños, Cariño.” 

You let the tears fall from your cheeks, you walked up to your dad and wrapped your arms around him. People began clapping and the music slowly began to fade in again. 

“Bailamos!” your dad yelled into the mic. The Dj played Cupid Shuffle, which made your dad grin from ear to ear, “Come on, Mija! This is our time to show our moves!” you rolled your eyes, “Come on!” he groaned. 

You laughed as you followed your dad's steps throughout the song, other people had joined in too. Soon enough it was a full dance floor, you danced with your friends and danced a few songs with your dad.

"What kind of dance moves are those?" You questioned your dad, as he did a little jump with his butt in the air.

"Am I not twerking?" You and those surrounding you laughed at his attempt, "Am I not doing it right?"

You shook your head, "No! God please, just stop!" And just for a night, you felt at peace. Everything that had happened was in the past or it was tomorrow's problem. Today, you are fifteen and enjoying your day with the people you loved. 

Your Quince didn’t end until past midnight and you knew it was a successful Quince when it went past midnight. You said your goodbyes to your guests and friends. 

You didn’t see your mother over the weekend, nor did you pick up her phone calls. Your dad told you what had happened and what had been said. Part of you felt stupid for even thinking that starting a relationship with your mom was a good idea. 

When Monday arrived, you wanted to just forget about everything, and act like the past few months never existed. Your dad had enough to win the custody battle, the lawyers were confident in the win. 

“Don’t forget tomorrow we’re doing a study group at the library after school,” One of your friends mentioned as you all walked out of the building. 

“I know,” you muttered. “See you guys tomorrow!” you said as you began walking down the sidewalk. 

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice call out.

You stopped in your tracks, your heart beating fast as you turned around, “What are you doing here?” you asked your mother. 

“Can we talk?” 

Pedro Pascal Taglist:   @cilliansangel  @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @tracysnook @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213

#pedro pascal platonic #pedro pascal x daughter!reader #pedro pascal x daughter #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x platonic!reader #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x daughter teen #pedro pascal x daughter angst #pedro pascal x daughter reader #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal dad #pedro pascal daughter #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal daughter reader #pedro pascal daughter!reader #pedro pascal x teen!reader platonic #pedro pascal x teen platonic #pedro pascal x teen reader #pedro pascal x teen #pedro pascal x teen!reader

[bestjeanistmonster]

about ur dc au, who is alfred? or is there an alfred

Alfred is Vanilla! She’s been serving the Wayne family since she was 15, taking over her mother’s position

She wasn’t particularly close with the family at first on an emotional level, her job to mostly being to take care if matters and essentially be a part of the furniture but she did manage to bond a bit with lil knuckles.

She was actually planning on quitting to find a less tiring job but then his parents died in crime alley when he was 6.

She had to pick the little guy up from the station and she hugged him as he cried in her arms

For the next 2 years she took care of him, cheered him up, took him to school, fed him, and tried her best to give him a childhood he would enjoy, to be that comforting presence in his life to help him heal from his loss and incredible trauma (his late father hadn’t rlly approved of letting his son goof off and had him focus on his studies and physical training). They both grew terribly close to each other in that time.

But then when Knuckles turned 8, Vanilla informed that Knuckles was to be moved someplace else as the request of his father in his will.

Knuckles didn’t want to leave and Vanilla didn’t want to let him go but she knew she didn’t have a say, so she assured him that she’ll still be here, attending to the manor until he returned. She was not allowed to know where he would be taken so she had to hope that he’d be alright, any letters she sent had to sent through a third party for Knuckles to receive them.

During those 7 years Vanilla ended up having a daughter but due to a city wide accident they were separated and the police couldn’t find her, Vanilla was devastated

When Knuckles returned at age 15 after receiving a letter from his dad’s lawyers that he can now return and receive his inheritance, Vanilla was 24 years old. She could hardly believe the young master had grown so much but she was very horrified to learn that his father had asked for his son to be dropped in the middle of the woods a few cities away so he can have ‘experience in the real world and put what he’d learnt to good use’

Vanilla thinks Knuckles’s father is a piece of shit. (This lady is the best and i love her sm)

#her and her daughter do reunite eventually post-birds of prey #when Knuckles tried telling her he was gonna become a vigilante he had never felt so tense as she sipped her tea calmy at the kitchen table #and thats nothing compared to the talk they had when Knuckles adopted a child #or the the terrifying one after that when he made said child his sidekick #Vanilla Knuckles and Tails are pretty much a kind of found family in this au #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sonic fandom #sonadow harlivy au #jeanist answers #he thought he was gonna get murdered

[sun-stricken]

Man I am so happy I found your blog. Like it’s so refreshing to see a gray blog about, well, GRAY. Anyways id love to hear some more of your headcanons about gray, maybe ones on his demon slayer traits as well. If that’s ok with of course😅.

if u like my blog u should see my notes app, its almost embarrassing how full of him it is

i struggled with this ngl, single character (even when its ur fav) hc list r weirdly difficult for me

BUT I DID IT SO ENJOY!

Grays has a scarily good memory, he can see something once and be able to recall it in almost perfect detail even years later

amazing for molding, horrible for embarrassing or traumatic memories though

If someone needs something done, they go to him

He has a lot of people that owe him favors on standby, and no he will not say how those favor came to exist

he has a patch of natural white hair in his bangs, he got it from his mothers side

He has a brown cat named Catnip

shes his pride and joy

he has boxes full of letters, notes, and cards people have given him since joining Fairy Tail.

He’s really good at talking himself out of situations, as someone else said, hes a bit of a diplomat

if theres a fight or job that requires no magic hes one of the best for it

Some call it gaslighting, i call it being a lawyer in another life

Grays like, terrifyingly smart, he knows what to say, when to say it, and how

if other guilds/maybe the council did scouting, hes at the top of the list

nobody wants him as an enemy

ESPECIALLY after he got his devil slayer magic

speaking of

devil slayers are the embodiment of cute aggression

he gets the random urge to bite people

theres an 80% chance that he’ll try to head-bunt people now

if he gets too happy he’ll try to throw smth

he has ‘fangs’, really sharp canines and he probably has a self-induced tongue piercing from how many times he bit his tongue from them

the tips of his fingers are black, whether thats a demon slayer trait, or a product of having two ice magics, which makes him work in prime frostbite temperatures, is unknown, they just are

Gray collects siblings the way Natsu collects father figures

He also has a larger male following than Erza, but its okay bc she has a higher female following than him :)

he wears eyeliner. i just. i need to say it.

i want to add smth thats in every fairy tail au i make but never explicitly stated

hes deaf, he was born hoh but its gotten worse over the years, especially after Deloria

he has lacrima hearing aids and will turn them off if someone is being particularly annoying and he just isnt in the mood

he stress cooks and has gotten pretty good at it

he has a recipe book full of Isvan style foods and those are his favorite to make

He realized hes lived in Magnolia longer than he ever lived in Isvan and it tore him apart

When he writes things down, its a mix of Fioren and Islavic/Isvani writing

when he gets tired or really stressed he speaks his native language without realizing

hes a secret theater kid

hes the type to hear a song and lie on the floor for a couple hours

he tries to say he doesnt, but my god does he live off drama

he flirts when hes nervous bc its a very fun image to me

a weird amount of ppl hes dated/friends with were his enemy/rival in a sense

THATS ALL TY FOR THE ASK SORRY ITS KINDA SHORT AND ALL OVER THE PLACE

#fairy tail #sun stricken answers #gray fullbuster #sun strickens ft #fairy tail headcanons #gray fullbuster centric #gray fullbuster headcanons #love him #catnip the cat is very near and dear to my heart

[mikkomacko]

Dating Nathan MacKinnon

Social Media

A/N: Had this sitting in the drafts, figured I'd post it to distract the Avs fans from last night :)

Enjoy x

Liked by MacKinnon29 and others

Your.instagram: The Dogg behind the scenes 🎥

Tagged: MacKinnon29

6ErikJohnson6: Blue steel

CaleMakar: 🐕x🎥

MacKinnon29: I said no secret photos

-> your.instagram: But you're so handsome 🥺

->MacKinnon29: 🙄☺️

Liked by your.instagtam and others

MacKinnon29: Best trophy I've ever gotten. Runner up: my trophy wife (not pictured)

Tagged: your.instagram

Your.instagram: you literally had a million pictures with this trophy wife and you picked the one without me? 🔉Divorce 🔉

->MacKinnon29: My lawyers are sharks btw so be ready

Landeskog.92: Gotta put a ring on her first bud

->MacKinnon29: No she's my wife

Liked by MacKinnon29 and others

Your.instagram: BRB untying my shoe behind his back so he can tie it again

Tagged: MacKinnon29

MacKinnon29: ✍🏻 buy babe slip ons for Christmas

Your.instagram: I'll return them when you're on a roadie 🥰

JTCompher: dogg on a leash

->MacKinnon29: 🦮😀

->Your.instagram: Ok you're getting a muzzle now too

Like by your.instagram and others

MacKinnon29: 🐕 x the love of his life

Tagged: your.instagram

Landeskog.92: you gotta come up with a better caption bud

-> MacKinnon29: 🐕x🙅🏻‍♂️

Bowen.Byram: caption is 🤢

Your.instagram: omg omg omg did you just show emotion on social media?

-> MacKinnon29: Yes now say it back

-> your.instagram: ur my favorite lil pup and I love you 🥰

-> MacKinnon29: 😁

Liked by Landeskog.92 and others

Your.instagram: Uncle 🐕 and his little love

Tagged: MacKinnon29

Landeskog.92: Uncle 🐕 x lil 🦁

Cradnec: He doesn't smile at me like that

-> ColoradoAvalanche: liar. We see those celly hugs

-> your.instagram: he doesn't smile at me like that either 😣

MacKinnon29: lil 🐕 will be at the next cup parade

-> your.instagram: um excuse you?

-> 6ErikJohnson6: keep if PG Nate, Burky's on here for the love of God

-> MacKinnon29: 😉

#nathan mackinnon #nate mack #nathan mackinnon social media #nathan mackinnon x reader #dating nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #nhl

[slamminslamminmcgill]

this may be the weirdest request you have ever received BUT i would love to see some (nsfw or sfw) hcs about the reader essentially being ‘shared’ between howard & lalo …. my brain is so full

my brother in christ i wrote multiple posts about lalo piss ur FINE 😭😭😭

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, dick

i am so sorry but i have no idea how the fuck this starts 💀

maybe you and howard are going at it and lalo just ??? comes in through the window and asks to join. that’s some goofy shit he’d do. “player 3 has entired the game” head ass.

let’s be real. howard’s a cuck. he likes to watch you blissed out on lalo’s cock as you take it from behind. you just look so cute when you're a whining wailing mess 🥺🥺🥺

lalo def enjoys putting him down for it too. he’s NOT going to shut up (on the other hand, howard would be too shy to say much). he'd pull your hair and make you look up at howard.

he’d have a shit eating grin on his face as he holds you up. "look, say hi! :D” he’d laugh, “say hi to your big, strong boyfriend! why don’t you tell him how good it feels?”

you try to, but all that comes out are garbled noises of pleasure and enthusiastic submission. howard just watches with his hands folded in his lap. his dick is painfully hard but he’s too shy to touch himself.

lalo would notice he’s feeling left out. “what, you want a turn? sorry, i guess i kinda just took over for you there. go ahead,” he’d pull out and pat you on the ass, “have at it.”

howard chomps at the bit for the chance to fuck you, but when he does he’s being too gentle. why do i feel like lalo would try to help 💀

“no, no, no, you’re being too nice! he can take more than that,” he’d stare right into your eyes, “can’t you?”

DP AND OVERSTIM THE HOUSE!!!

you’re in lalo’s lap as he fucks your pussy. howard’s on his knees in front of you with his lips around your dick. you have one hand petting howard’s hair, and your other arm is around lalo’s shoulder, whining and writhing in between them.

lalo just laughs at this whole situation… “he’s a lawyer, right? i believe it. he’s good with his mouth. he really knows how to get you off, eh?” …and his own jokes.

howard really, REALLY wants to fuck you, but lalo doubts he’ll be able to do it right. so, he decides to provide backup 💖 and fuck your ass while howard takes your cunt.

when you cum, howard’s shushing you and talking you through it. his hips come to a complete stop. “shh, there we go… good boy…good job, oh you’re doing so well…”

lalo just wants you to do it again 😵‍💫

#better call saul x reader #bcs #anon #ask #better call saul #better call saul smut #better call saul imagine #bcs x reader #better call saul headcanons #better call saul hcs #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca headcanons #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca hcs #lalo salamanca smut #lalo salamanca x reader x howard hamlin #howard hamlin #howard hamlin x reader #howard hamlin headcanons #howard hamlin hcs #howard hamlin smut #howard hamlin imagine #poly laloward #laloward

[adrianasunderworld]

Hi!!! Okay girl, this is realll random but there's something that's been rotating in my mind and Ms. Rosehearts was stressing me out fr so I was like WAIT BUT HOW BOUT THE OTHER COOLER NICER MOMS and I think you'd enjoy the situational chaos so

Hear me out

The moms have a book club.

But it's really just a front for the REAL Yuu protection squad and also gossiping about their children LMAO.

I really love twisted wonderland mothers! They all sound like strong, compelling individuals (save for some Ms. Rosehearts PLS sit down maam😭😭😭)! Like, Mrs. business -woman-married-her-divorce-lawyer-owner-of-the-best-resturant-of-the-seas-girlboss Ashengrotto????? Ms. loving-caring-badass-single-mother-i-care-deeply-about-my-son-and-he-knows-and-loves-me-back-so-much-so-that-he-constantly-strives-to-be-a-better-person Spade???? Mrs. breaking-social-social-norms-marrying-the-man-i-love-probably-been-in-a-war-or-at-least-had-cool-sword-training-the-CROCODILE-FAE-HERSELF Zigvolt????? I like to think that over multiple breaks/events Yuu tags along with one (some?) of the boys and mom/grandma/aunt/whateverlmao just, just loves this kid and is like aw hi hon nice to meet you is my son being troublesome at school?😊💕💕💕 i hope not😇😇😇 and

...wait

ur alone??? w/o any resources or connections??? being taken advantage of by a scheming, fugly crow??? (and if it's Ms. Yuu, BBY UR A MAGICLESS GIRL IN A PRESTIGIOUS ALL BOYS MAGIC ACADEMY???) basically queen Asha but then add in mom authority and multiple mothers lmao

Like, there's a PTA meeting or a parents week lmao and Ms. Leech, Ashengrotto, Zigvolt, Spade AND YOU KNOW WHAT. EPELS GRANDMA, MAMA LILITH, AND QUEEN ASHA TOO BC SLAY MALLEUS' GRANDMA TOO???? etc... come over to check up on the prefect and they're all like

Thus begins the OP Yuu protection squad and they use a Mom's book club as a front (maybe they were a book club at first anyway???? Lmao idk logistics) and its just like

Mrs. Ashengrotto: Heyyyy bby, do you need a job over breakkk aha cool bc the restaurant has an opening and OOP oh no! the ice cream machine is broken :(((( looks like you can't do your job :((( oh, sweetie don't worry about your paycheck it wasn't your fault you'll still get paid, aw, these ice cream machines really need to break less :((( sighhhh, it's okay love, anyway do you wanna go shopping with me???

AND I THINK MAMA ASHENGROTTO WOULD BE HILARIOUS IN PARTICULAR BC THINK OF THE POWER WE'D HAVE OVER AZUL

Azul: AHA! You're now indebted to me and owe me all your robux AND a lifetime of indentured servitude whhhAT ARE YOU DOING

Yuu: CALLING YOUR MOM BITC-

Power. Yuu'd be the most powerful person on campus. Think of the baby photos. The childhood stories. THE BABY PHOTOS. Meanwhile they'd also be getting advice from this circle of wise, beautiful women who also can give the smack down on any poor teenage boy that breathes incorrectly in Yuu's direction. I also think this could be absolutely incredible for a Ms. Yuu, who would suddenly have female connections all around twisted wonderland after being deprived for so long. Maybe free period stuff. A heating pad. Handmade dresses instead of our sad, overworn uniform bc we literally dont have any other clothes😭😭😭 Like, just,,,, female advice about survival in this new world while maybe also having tea, in depth discussions about literature, and teasing their boys. A comfy circle occasionally held in ramshackle dorm about art and gossip and caring for a kid who hasn't been cared for in a long time

Ms. Spade: So ladies, what's the schedule over spring break?

Queen Asha: I will have them assist me in court for the final two weeks. I belive that perhaps Zigvolt...?

Mrs. Zigvolt: Yuu inquired about dental practices in magically structured locals such as Briar Valley. My family will take them in during the first weekend of break.

Yuu can be in the bookclub too. Just to rant and snitch about their classmates. Bestie deserves it. There can be a group chat. Love it. And if this ever takes a romantic direction...

Mrs. Leech: You know, Yuu would make such a fantasic in-law.🤭😇😊😊😆💕🌸🌸💕🥺🙂

Queen Asha: Indeed.

Queen Asha Internally: leonagetyourSHITtogetherleonaliterallyplsleonailovethemsomuchboymovebeforeimoveFORyouomlLEONA-

Like, Mrs. Leech and Ashengrotto would totally tag team this bc theyre besties and if one of their sons wins they both win meanwhile someone like Mrs. Shroud (maybe? Idk how to feel about the Shroud parents LMAO) would be loosing her MIND

And speaking of

🎆women🎆

Yuu: GUYS.

Yuu: omf-

Najma: what

Yuu: You will not believe the SHIT your brothers pulled today istg---

Yuu:

Sebek's Sister: DJDJDJDHFJGJDJSJSJD

Yuu: its the second time this week

Najma: PLS

Sebek's Sister: babe it's literally tuesday????💀😭😭😭😭

Yuu: save. me.

Najma: no <3

Sebek's Sister: how are you still alive

girls Yuu's age ready to make fun of their brothers at any given moment???? yes??? hello??? the rants??? the insults??? the hilarity??? the 3am memes??? sign me up. Najma is literally RIGHT THERE and she's only had less than one chapter of sceen time total and i would still die for her

Anyway

Yay women. At this point I honestly dont care about the boys just let me be besties with their moms and sisters and we can get starbucks or sth

Yay women.

Lmao thats it thanks for all you write for us its appreciated love ur humor thank you for reading this far hope all is well in life byeeee <3333

You're right, I love everything about this. 🥰

There is just just much potential to unfold here. With exception of event characters like Granny Felmeir and Najma, all female characters are all off screen. So we kind of have to fill in the blanks of who these women and how they act, and that is where the fun comes in.

Especially for a Miss Yuu, because by default the whole situation raises many questions and concerns that all the mama bears come out. Yuu gets more care packages than their sons. "What do you mean why am I sending her things? You have everything you need and she has nothing. Now be sure to ask if she liked the cookies I sent." Yuu went from barely scraping by to being in want of nothing in just a few months.

We all know Asha, we all know Lilith. I just know Deuces mom is so nice and offers to have her over for breaks if she ever needs it. "Does she have any family? No? Invite her for the holidays right now!" Or Sebeks mom, I like to headcanon that Mrs. Zigvolt is more or less twisted from Fauna, so she is the sweetest lady alive. Her children are her everything and she cannot stand the thought of Yuu being all alone. She will not stand for it.

Mama Ashengrotto and Mama Leech are instigating each other, I just know it. They both like Yuu and love having her around. Theyre going to set up some Kiss the girl type scenes for their sons and hope it works. If Azul or the Tweels win they both win.

I feel like they all have a friendly competition to see whose son Yuu ends up liking. The race to be her mother in law if you will.

Mama Ashengrotto: What's that land saying? We all have a horse in this race.

Queen Asha, thinking about Leonas shitty love letters: I think my horse is broken.

---

Meanwhile Yuu is having a blast with the sisters. Having everyones mom around means having their sisters pop in, and Najma and Sebeks sisters are pretty much the closest in age to her and are fun to hang out with. They want all the info on wtf their brothers are doing and laughing at all the phots of their fuck ups.

Anyway Yuu needs more female friends.

#twisted wonderland #miss yuu #twst oc

[juniperhillpatient]

😈

...u know what? sleepover cancelled everyone go home lmao

😈: link the naughtiest most deranged porno graphic horrifying problematic fanwork you’ve ever enjoyed. bonus points if you tag op

I know I designed this game but like. why did I put that

okay. well, you asked :))) we're gonna pretend I have not perused the most forbidden catalogs of the queen herself of my most controversial atla ship (zucest. it's zucest. c'mon.) if anyone asks where I got this link I'm calling my lawyer

anyway hiii @hello-nichya-here <3333 hope ur having a good day girly :3

(Sleepover ask meme)

#ahem. #ask memes #TY FOR PLAYING ALONG #& for going for the most controversial thing on the game lmao

[fandomfluffandfuck]

hello😘

im in desperate need of fic recommendations and you were the very first person I thought of to ask

I just finished reading a fic and it was so fucking good and I really really want to see what kinda long fics (like 30k+ words???) you've read and loved?

btw, i literally love ur writing so much 🤫🥰

Hey!

Aw, nice, I appreciate that my taste in fics is recommendation worthy. Also, thanks!

I'll go with stucky and evanstan fics/series because you didn't specify which aaand I happen to know good long fics for both

Stucky

"Song of the rolling earth" by the1918 (this series is 154,000 words and Incredible. I go back to it all. the. time. for the emotions and the smut)

"Bucky Barnes and His 1001 Fetishes (or at least a few of them)" by sarahyellow (this fic is 167,000 words and the smut is So So Good and Kinky. Some plot, not a ton (affectionate).)

"Give a Little, Take a Little" by notlucy (this series is 90,000 words of glorious kink exploration. Highly recommend.)

"like it's the only thing i'll ever do" by howdoyousleep (listen, listen, listen... this fic is by K and is 39,000 words of omegaverse goodness. What more do you need to know?)

"we are the things that we do for fun" Nonymos (this fic is 35,000 words and has tiny dom Steve (who's a pro dom) with big beefy sub Bucky. It's Great.)

"Innocent Until" by L1av (this fic is 136,000 words and comes with a yelled warning of READ THE TAGS. It's so so so so so so good but it contains Steve being on trial for murder... so, thread cautiously. It will make your mind do things, okay? Highly, highly recommend though.)

"you will always be my favorite form of loving" by thiccbuckybarnes (this fic is so close to the 30k cut-off... it's 28,000 words, super close and super good. In smut and regular plot.)

"Omega Services: Rut Assistant" by roe87 (I read this fic as the author was writing it and I looked forward to each new chapter so much! It's wild to think it's 175,000 words overall. It felt like it went by so fast!)

"Maybe we'll get it all (If we choose one night)" by sourwolphs (this fic is 69,000 words and great! Very much emotion and hella smut. My favorite haha.

Evanstan

"You Once Said if We Were Careful" by callmejude (this fic is 65,000 words and has SUCH GOOD sub Sebastian content when he's just learning about subbing, it comes with Heavy emotion and sub drop too though... be weary if that's not your think.)

"Like Sugar (Spell It Out)" by luninosity (I feel like I always recommend this series but I just can't help it, it's Everything I Want. Anyway. This series is 238,000 words and is full, full of beautiful smut and fluff and angst and everything. I can't say enough good things about it.)

"Ceramic" by bearception (okay, so this fic is actually under 30k, it's only 27,000 works BUT it's also so so good and so so full of sub Seb feels that hit me where I live.)

"we walk the sun" by Kellyscams and luninosity (for this 35,000 words series I have two words that are all you need to know: KITTEN SEBASTIAN)

"I Belong To You" by OrangeVanilla (this series is 42,000 words and has ex-pornstar Seb and lawyer Chris and I love the bratty, princess attitude Seb has in it lol)

Okay, I think that's all I got lol, I didn't even realize I knew so many longer fics! Goddamn. I hope you enjoy them!

#asks #whiteglovemanor #chris evans #sebastian stan #evanstan #rpf #real person fanfiction #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #fic recs