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norrisreads · 11 months

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illicit affairs #CL16 #MS47

PAIRING: charles leclerc x ex-gf reader! mick schumacher x reader!

SUMMARY: he was once the man you’ve always dreamed of, until one day a decision made drunkenly by him made you realised you were never the chosen one

WARNING: angst + cheating, fluff at the end

masterlists

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

2018

being in a relationship has it’s ups and downs, not everyday is full of smiles and laughters, some times it’s deadly silence just like the situation right now between you and charles

you were in a relationship with charles leclerc eversince 2016, you’ve seen him won the formula 2 championship, jumping to formula 1, you were there when he went through hard times, there were days you had to put him over yourself and you’ve never once regretted it.

But here you are, in a relationship that’s full of rocky roads. Charles and you met through his younger brother arthur, you were just a year older than Arthur, and the both of you used to hangout at the leclerc’s apartment daily as the both of you were and still has a close friendship. Arthur had given an advice to you in the early stages of dating with his brother, an advice you should’ve listen clearly.

“i’ll pack my things later, and i’m moving out tomorrow charles” the both of you is currently in the kitchen, you sitting down sipping on your warm honey lemon tea and him just munching down on the breakfast you’ve made for him

“i’m sorry, i swear i do not know what came on to me. she just happened to be there, i should have pushed her, cherie” you heard the metal fork cling as it came in contact with the marble counter top, you refused to believe the news that was trending everywhere

Formula One driver Charles Leclerc caught cheating on his fiancé, y/n l/n last night

When you were woken up by Arthur calls, you were confused of course until you clicked on the link that was send to you from Arthur. Ironically last night, you were on the call with him frantically worrying on Charles whereabouts, other than being woken up by Arthur’s morning calls, you were greeted by the sight of Charles sprawled out on the sofa in the living room.

All the times you were asking for signs if he was made for you, and even though the news did broke your heart, it showed the truth to you and made you realise that you wouldn’t want to spend your precious moments crying and fixing a relationship that is probably isn’t even worth it anymore.

“Sorry doesn’t fix the heartache i woke up to this morning, Charles. If this relationship isn’t worth the fight for you, you could have ask for a break and not cheat on me with someone else. That is so low of you, you knew how cheating affects me, you promised you will never do what he did and here you are proving me wrong”

“i know mon cherie, i am aware and i am so sorry. all i can do right now is to apologise to you, i am so sorry. i love you, i really do. you’ll always be the person my heart beats for cherie, please listen to me” you could hear Charles footsteps approaching you

“sometimes i wish you are able to see how much i sacrifice myself for you, when you were devastated from losing races, i would drop every single thing i was doing and run to you, calm you down.” you could feel tears running down your cheeks, reminiscing the memories the both of you have made together, from bad memories to good memories

“i supported you in every races no matter how exhausted i was, i would pray everyday that you wouldn’t crash and hurt yourself or blame yourself. I had to turn down job offers because i know that i am your number one support system, and i’ll always have to be there” his hand reached yours and tightly gripping it not letting you go

“but I’m exhausted Charles, I’m exhausted that i am always the one putting so much more effort in the relationship, i know you’re fighting for your dreams but what about mine? You’ve never asked about it, i know so much of you yet you know so little of me. I’m sorry Charles, if this happened a year ago, i would have accepted you back in my life but i’m not her anymore.” you let go of his hand, walking to the sink of the shared kitchen and washed the mug

Charles of course had nothing to say because he knew how badly he has been treating you, especially when whatever you’ve spilled your hearts out were accurate, he knew too little of you.

“where are you going to stay, will you be at Arthur’s ?”

“i will crash over at Arthur’s until i found a place, you shouldn’t be concerned where i am staying, be more concerned with Arthur, he’s fuming Charles. He’s your brother, fix the relationship”

with that, you walked to the shared room and started packing your items while Charles left the house to give you space.

what Charles doesn’t know is that you had been blessed with a gift, but for now that is just for you to know.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

2021

Just 2 and a half years ago, on the 14th of February 2019, your baby girl was born into the world. Of course, Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo knew about the pregnancy and promised to keep it a secret from him.

When you left the house, you were 2 weeks pregnant, you managed to settle in to an apartment nearby Arthur’s apartment due to safety reasons. You were glad that you’ve rarely bumped into Charles, because as of now you’re unsure if you would wanna let Charles know of the child that the both of you shared.

Pascale would constantly come over to provide assistance and you were glad she was there for you even when you aren’t apart of the family anymore.

Just a year after you’ve left, Charles had gotten in-to a relationship, Arthur would always talk to you about how she wasn’t you and it’ll end with you lecturing him on how he should’ve been happy for his brother instead of hating his relationship.

“she’s not you, y/n. she’s just so different” Arthur shouted across the living room while entertaining your daughter, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc.

Your lovely 2 and a half years old babygirl, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc, is the greatest gift to you, she was your strength and the reason you are still in this world.

Of course, you did struggled being a single parent but the support you’ve received from your family, friends and his family was never-ending.

“don’t say that thur, i’m sure she’s great and just shy. he’s happy, let him be thur” you lightly hit the back of Arthur’s head

“look baby val, your mum just hit me on the head” all val did was laughed and continued playing with the toys Enzo had gifted, with the exact same eye-smile Charles had

“would you ever let Charles know about val?” Arthur asked, taking a seat beside you

“of course, i wouldn’t mind because val deserves to know his dad too” you smiled while looking at your baby-girl playing

“though i prefer Charles to just be an uncle, rather than a dad. Furthermore she loves the existence of him, sooner or later she’s gonna call him papa”

“I’m glad you’ve found someone that truly treasure you, he’s a great person though you have to seriously stop dating drivers.”

the both of you laughed, and as you were speaking about him, you heard the keypad of your house door being key-ed in and just a minute later the door of your house opened.

“miiiiiicckkkkkkkkyyy” val dropped her toys and ran to mick.

mick placed his items on the counter top and picked up val, “how’s my favourite girl doing?” while giving kisses to your baby-girl

mick walked towards you and Arthur, “ thanks thur for your help, you’ve been nothing but nice to us”

“it’s alright mick, though i’ll prefer you to be away so val will start loving me more” arthur joked knowing before mick came into val’s life, arthur was her favourite uncle

“hello baby, I dropped by the restaurant and bought the soup that you were craving for, i hope it’s still hot though” Mick gave you a forehead kiss while holding val on the other arm of his.

Thur picked up his bags and said his goodbyes.

you are currently dating Mick Schumacher, the relationship has been since end 2020, you’ve met him when you were working at your cafe and happened to serve him and he happened to take a liking towards you. Mick knew of Charles and you history and have assured you that he does not really mind and he truly appreciate both val and you.

When val turned two years old, mick had brought her to one of val’s biggest dream place ever as all other kids calls it, Disneyland and spend the whole day with her and you’ve could see the look on val’s face that only lights up when she’s around Mick and realised that this was the man that you would want to build up your future with.

Charles knew about your relationship, with the presence of you you standing beside mick supporting him during the races.

You weren’t always there for the races but since it was mick’s first few races, you wanted it to be special for the both of you. Val was sleeping over at your best friend for the day, inviting her would’ve caused a huge mess between the both of you especially with the first glance of your daughter, anyone could tell she is related to Charles Leclerc.

Of course it was a surprise to him, leading him to text Arthur right after the both of you had a 5 minute conversation together.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

2022 MONACO GP

“okay baby, stay by mama and don’t run anywhere else okay? papa is gonna be busy for a while and you’ll able to see him on this track” you were instructing val to not run away, val has turned out to be a daddy’s girl ever-since Mick came in-to her life, being away from Mick for a few days was torture to her(us), face-timing was the usuals for the three of us.

of course, hiding val on the way to the paddock was hard enough, you had to ask gina’s help which she did assist in and came by earlier than you and Mick in order to avoid the assumptions.

“but will papa see me here? will he wave at me and you, mama?”

you’re now carrying your daughter on your other arm, while she’s fidgeting with the lanyards around her neck.

“i’m not sure baby, papa’s car pass by super fast val. they’re faster than the cars we have at home,baby”

val nods her head and snuggled her head onto your neck, signalling that she was sleepy.

“baby, you sleepy? wanna head back to the room?” she agreed as she had spend her afternoon nap being awake following Mick around everywhere.

On the way to the haas paddock club, you were on your phone, single handedly texting gina if she could bring out the blankets that was in your bag as she was still at the club waiting for Mick’s team meeting to be done.

until you bumped on-to someone, and that someone just happened to be him.

just when you’re holding your daughter, what a great timing

“mama, why stop?” Val’s rubbing her eyes wondering and snuggling back on to your neck

“a moment baby, just get back to sleeping okay?” rubbing val’s back soothing her down to get her back to sleeping.

Charles was shocked yet confused on why you’re holding a child and the said child was calling you mama. Charles knew your relationship with Mick had just been ongoing for 3 years and he knew that the little girl that you were carrying is more than 3 years old, but what he didn’t know was that the little girl on your arm was his own daughter that he had no clue off.

“y/n, you’ve never told me you had a daughter?” charles stopped in his tracks and you could see behind him was arthur and lorenzo, with a shocked face.

“oh look charles, you’re late to your team meeting. Let’s go carlos is probably finding for you” enzo distracting him, but it was no help because he was still there staring at you and your daughter.

at this point you were looking at arthur for help but from the facial expression on arthur’s you knew he had zero plans to back you up.

“yeah haha it’s something i’ve kept private” you tried to walk away but he stopped you and take a look at val’s lanyard that was around her neck.

and one thing you didn’t realise was mick had given the staffs val’s full name to print out on her paddock pass, and that is when charles realised he has a daughter.

“valentiné aurore herve leclerc?”

oh yeah we are so fuck, by we it’s lorenzo, arthur and i.

you were looking at arthur and lorenzo with wide eyes.

“the both of you are aware of this?” charles turned to both of them and questioned the both of his brothers with disbelief

“it’s not their fault, i made them promised to not tell anyone”

“why didn’t you tell me? i am her father” at this point you could see people were curious on the conversation that was happening, because why would mick’s current girlfriend be seen having an intense conversation with Charles Leclerc?

“let’s talk later, she needs her nap. i’ll come over to arthur’s apartment and explain everything ” and charles knew that tone of your voice, the one where you would always use when you’re anxious or nervous and charles agreed on meeting you at arthur’s apartment

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

ARTHUR’S APARTMENT

Mick knew what had happened when you bumped you onto Charles, Mick wanted to accompany the both of you to Arthur’s apartment and be there for you while you explained things to Charles, and of course you agreed.

You knocked Arthur’s door, and you were greeted by pascale.

“i’m sorry darling, I tried but he was too persistent” she apologised to you, holding your hand giving you comfort

“it’s fine, it’s time i guess” you smiled at her

when you’ve reached Arthur’s living room you could feel the tension between the three brothers, you took a seat beside Arthur and Val automatically went to Arthur’s Lap.

Mick sat beside you, rubbing your back, calming down your nerves.

“val baby, come to papa. don’t bother uncle thur” mick called out to your daughter which she listened and walked over to Mick’s lap and mick carried her to arthur’s guest room which pascale followed behind.

Charles cleared his throat, “tell me from the start”

“when we broke off and i left, i found out I was 2 weeks pregnant”

“and you didn’t think of telling me?”

“it was hard Charles, i didn’t want you to stay with me just because i was carrying your daughter”

“continue” charles head in his hand, stressing over this situation

“i kept it of course as you can see, but please don’t blame it on lorenzo and arthur. i’ve made them swore they wouldn’t tell you, i didn’t wanna ruin your career. I was gonna tell you, just not now. I was thinking of telling you when val’s gonna understand the situation more. Mick knows about us and he was there for me for everything”

“I could’ve helped you, y/n. as a friend I could’ve helped you. she has my dna, she’s mine, i deserve to be in her life too, does she know?”

“she knows her father’s absence in her life, but she doesn’t know it’s you. we’ve never really talked about it”

“why the name? why did you used my last name, if you didn’t want me to be in her life y/n?”

“She’s apart of you, of course i had to include that and she looks exactly like you, no matter how much i refuse to believe’s she from you i had to accept it”

Charles walked over and sat beside you and held your hand.

“please let me be in her life. not as a father but as someone she deserves to know. i don’t mind Mick being her father, he deserves that title, but just let me be in my daughter’s life”

you agreed to charles, because as much as you disliked Charles, you didn’t want your daughter to grow up not knowing how does her biological dad looks like and starts questioning if she ever did something wrong.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

2023

Charles took the time to get to know val more, Mick and you would allow Charles over to let him have his own time with his daughter or they would sometimes have a day to their own.

Val knew who charles were but wasn’t really keen in calling him papa, as for the past few years Mick was more of a father figure to her rather than Charles.

As much as Charles was disappointed, he understood where she was coming from but he was glad Val had accepted him in her life not as a father but as some she would like to keep close contact with.

As for you, you’ve still kept the news of you having a child private, though there were rumours speculating around which you didn’t really pay attention to but you felt that it wasn’t a need for you to go public that you had a love child with their favourite driver.

Mick’s gotten signed to Mercedes and since he was a reserve driver, he would spend most of the time at the paddock with val and val has never been much more happier being close to her papa.

She would sometimes be in the Ferrari’s building or Mercedes’. Of course other than P, and the other driver’s children’s, val is currently the favourite especially amongst Charles and Mick’s circles of friends.

You were glad that the heavy weight on your shoulders was lifted off. Though, it took you a while to let Charles know about val, it’s all sorted out and you’re glad.

—✩࿐ end note: thanks for reading! wanted to end it off more angst less fluff but dad! mick just warms my heart, i’m still finding for good ig post templates or twitter templates! other than that, i hope you enjoyed reading! ♥️

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 fics #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc angst #f1 masterlist

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

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Gamer boy (part one)

Modern!gamer Eddie Munson x babysitter fem!reader

Summary: you’re propositioned to baby sit by your father, but it’s for Eddie “the freak” Munsons niece. You had history, but now you can’t even stand being near him. Will you both be able to put aside your distain? Or will a little gaming bet, bring you closer than ever before?

⚠️series warnings: eventual smut 18+ mdni, angst, friends to enemies to lovers, mutual pining, mean!eddie, slight fuck!boy eddie, cocky eddie, gaming bets in exchange for sexual acts, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, slight degradation, choking, hair pulling, spit play, spanking, dom!eddie.

A/N: this was going to be a one shot, but then I go more and more ideas so I’m turning into a little series 💚 (remember to tip your writers, with a reblog and comment)

You couldn’t believe this was happening, you wanted to be emancipated. How could your dad do this to you? Why you?

Okay, that’s probably really dramatic. But, it was warranted.

It was a beautiful Thursday morning, birds were chirping, coffee was brewing and your mom was making her famous French toast. You haven’t felt this happy in a while, little did you know that metaphorical rug of happiness was about to be ripped from under you.

“Y/n, can you come in here?” Your dad yelled from his office down the hall

The only time your father ever called you into his office to talk, was always about something serious or a proposition he wanted to tell you about. Not ask, never ask. You didn’t have a choice in his “business proposals” at least that’s what they felt like to you.

Shuffling over your feet as your heart rate picked up. You made it into the big office, oak wood shelves filled with books your dad never had time to read. He was leaning back in his black leather chair behind his big oak wood desk, with a look of contentment on his face, it made a shiver run down your body.

“Yes, dad?” You say as you look down at the desk in front of you.

“I have a job I need you to do.” He says with a small chuckle

“Okay, what is it?” You cock your head like a puppy full of curiosity

“Well, I need you to baby sit for one of my employees. It’ll be from tonight to Sunday night.” He says

“This weekend? But dad it’s a three day weekend, I had plans with friends.” You say as if you can’t even believe he’s telling you this. I mean maybe it would make a difference if he was asking and not telling, but either way you were upset.

“Sorry, kiddo. I already told him you would. Can’t go back on my word, all a man has is his word.”

You roll your eyes, and cross your arms over your chest.

“Fine, who’s kid?”

“Wayne Munsons, he’s going out of town on a business trip for me. He has a daughter she’s about three and his usual sitter isn’t able to do it, something about her being an older lady, so I offered up your help since you use to babysit the neighborhood kids. He’s leaving at 9 tonight so you’ll need to be over there by 8:30”

“Wayne Munson? As in Eddie Munson? Dad no, absolutely not! Why can’t he do it?” You say as your eyes begin to water

“You know that boy, does he look like he can take care of a three year old for three days?” Your dad was beginning to get aggravated with your tone and questioning

“I cannot believe this. I hate him, how am I suppose to go over there and act civil when you’re asking me to go hang out with satan in the flesh?”

Your dad laughs at your outburst

“I’m not asking you to hang out with him, I’m asking you to babysit his niece.”

“For three days?!” You shout “I’m sorry, but cmon dad, I can’t do that.”

“You can, and you will. End of discussion.”

“I- whatever.” You turn on your heels and stomp out of there

“Hey, hun. French toast is ready,” your mom says with a big smile.

“I’m not hungry, sorry mom.” You say as you trudge up the stairs to go sulk in your bedroom

After you packed your duffel bag full of clothes and toiletries, showered and put on some comfy black cotton shorts and a white long sleeve shirt. You got into your Prius and head for the last place on earth you ever wanted to be, Forest hills trailer park.

You don’t even remember why you and Eddie hate each other so much. Well you do, but now that you’re both adults, it all seems so redundant.

You and Eddie have known each other since he moved in with his uncle in first grade. You were actually friends at some point, then you hit middle school and your body started changing, you started getting a different kind of attention from Eddie and other boys. You both got closer that summer before freshman year. Close as in, you shared your first kiss with him, amongst some other things. But, once high school started, everything changed. Eddie became distant. You knew he was bullied, even worst than middle school, but you didn’t understand why he was so angry at you. Okay, well it could’ve had something to do with a small rumor that went around about you, and a certain basketball player. It wasn’t 100 percent incorrect, you did go on a date with Josh Young and you did make out in the back of his brothers Camaro, but you definitely did not give him a handy or a blow job, you knew him and his jock meathead friends started it because you didn’t want to go any further with him that night. Eddie avoided you at all costs after that, which was total bullshit because when you and him weren’t sucking face and feeling each other up, he was going on and on about perfect little Angela Thomas, a blonde cheerleader. Go figure. He had no right to be angry, so you both never talked after that. Except the occasional condescending comments that would leave his mouth when you’d both be at your lockers, his unfortunately being way too close to yours or that time you both had biology together, sophomore year and were paired up for a project. You ended up doing the whole thing yourself and allowed him to get half the credit, but other than that. Radio silence, on both ends.

You pull up to the only trailer with beer cans littered around the yard, parking next to Eddies rust bucket of a van. You couldn’t believe he was still driving that thing. It was a million years old and on its last leg, but something about seeing it made you nervous. Where’d that come from?

On the other side was Wayne’s pick up truck, the bed of it holding his black suitcase.

You keep your eyes on your brown platform ugg boots, as you make your way up the steps to the front door.

You knock a few times, wishing you could be anywhere literally anywhere but here.

“Y/n, hello sweetheart.” Wayne Munson says with a whisper, as he feels around his blue jeans for his keys.

“Laylas asleep in her room, she ate, she bathed, so she’s out for the night.” He chuckles

“There’s food in the fridge, money for pizza on the counter, and if you need anything just ask Eddie, he’s also in his room playin his damn games. If you want, you can sleep in my bed or you can take the couch, whatever you’re comfortable with.” — “Before I go, I just really want to tell you how much I appreciate this, darlin.” He says as he throws you an appreciative smile.

“Yeah of course, Mr. Munson. Have a safe trip.” You smile back, as you close the door behind him.

Now what the hell do you, do?

After sitting uncomfortably on the couch for an hour, while scrolling on your phone and occasionally looking up at the Netflix movie you decided to put on as background noise, you hear a door open. Your heart starts beating out of your chest at the realization that you’re about to see Eddie.

The kitchen light turns on, making your eyes slightly squint. As you looked over at him, he was drinking Pepsi straight from the liter.

Ugh he was so disgusting

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and then closed the cap, putting it back in the fridge as he let out a burp.

God, you really couldn’t stand him

Even if he was wearing nothing but grey sweats, so low it showed off his v line and trail of hair right above his—

“Oh, you’re here.” He says as he rolls his eyes

He knew you were here, he just loved pissing you off.

“Yup, don’t wanna be here just as much as you don’t want me here, Munson.”

“You sure about that?” He snickers

“Positive.” You say as you continue scrolling on your phone, pretending to read something, that you’re not actually reading. You just don’t want it to feel anymore awkward than it already does.

“Mm, okay princess. You have a nice night.” He turns around, shutting off the light and heading back into his room.

Princess? Ew, You hate him so much, but why’d he have to look so good? Fuck him!

You eventually got comfortable on the couch with the pillow and throw blanket, Wayne kindly left out for you. Falling asleep a little after you started some cheesy romantic comedy.

You wake up to the sound of loud metal music, and sun peaking in through the curtains. Once you roll over, you’re greeted by a little face staring down at you. Scaring the living shit out of you.

“Hi. My name is Layla, what’s yours?” The toddler asks, words coming out in the cutest little voice.

“Hi Layla, my names y/n. I’m gonna be babysitting you while your daddy is away.” You say as you sit up and rub your face

“Can you make me breakfast?” She says as she walks a little closer to you, you now notice she’s got a stuffed puppy in her arm.

“Of course I can, what would you like?” You put your ugg booties on and stand up, making your way to the kitchen as Layla follows closely behind

“Waffles, please!” She says excitedly

“Okay, waffles comin’ right up.”

“Thank you, y/n.” Layla says with the sweetest little smile

“No problem. So who’s your friend?” You ask, looking at the stuffy in her arm

“This is Mr. Floppy,” She says as she holds up the brown floppy eared puppy

“Well hello, nice to meet you Mr. Floppy.” You bend down and shake one of his floppy ears, like you would a hand.

Layla giggles like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.

As you’re plating laylas waffles and topping them with butter and syrup, the loud music that was booming from down the hall, stops. Eddie’s door flys open and he’s swinging his keys on his index finger, dressed in his usual; band tee, black jeans, leather jacket and battle vest.

“Teddy!” Layla shouts as she skips to hug his legs

“Sup, rugrat?” He says as he ruffles the top of her braided pigtails

“Are you leaving?” She inquires with a sad look on her face.

“I am, I’ll be back later. Just gotta take care of some stuff.” He says while looking over at you as you cut up Laylas waffles.

Eddie walks out the front door after telling Layla bye, leaving the screen door to slam.

After playing with your new favorite toddler, almost all afternoon. Feeding her lunch and playing some more. She’s finally, down for a nap.

You begin cleaning up her toys off the living room floor, and turning the god awful voice of this blippi character on YouTube off.

You decide to get your AirPods out of your bag and pair them to your phone, so you can listen to some music while you clean up a little bit more.

You began washing the dishes, cleaning down counters and cleaning off the dining table, as well as sweeping the kitchen floor.

As you’re plugging in the big clunky vacuum, you hear Eddie’s other clunker come to a halt in the front yard, doors slamming and some talking, before the door is being unlocked and opened.

Eddie bounds in after some girl, you’d never seen her before. She was blonde and pretty. It made your stomach plummet and your hands shake.

Why are you jealous?

You didn’t miss the big smile on his face as he looked over at you, and began walking her to his bedroom.

Just breathe. JUST BREATHE. You hate him, why do you want to cry? Do you hate him? Fuck!

This was gonna be torture. You wanted to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. But you knew you couldn’t. So you decide to put your headphones back in, and continue cleaning. It helped get your mind off of what Eddie and blondie, could be doing behind that door, but only for a little bit before your mind began to wonder.

So you gather some clothes and head for the bathroom, slipping inside and locking the door. You put the shower on, and begin undressing. Thanking god, Eddie had his music on pretty loud, but also not, because Layla could wake up any minute, so you had to make this fast.

After you get out, you slip on a black long sleeve onesie, you didn’t even realize you packed. The shorts on it are really short, and is constantly riding up, showcasing some of your butt. The front has about a dozen buttons going down to the middle of your stomach so you can control how much cleavage you want to show off. Opting for a good amount, enough to capture attention. It seemed like the most logical thing to go with, in this situation, whatever “situation” this was.

You find a brush in one of the drawers, brush out your hair and then make your way out of the bathroom and down the hall to check on Layla, she’s still sleeping soundly, so you walk back to the couch. Trying to drown out whatever noises you hear coming from Eddie’s room, you can’t make out if they’re laughs or moans and you’d rather keep it that way.

Some time goes by, while you’re scrolling on tik tok. Eddie’s door opens, as miss blondie walks out and leaves out the front door. A deep breath you didn’t even realize you were holding is released, after the door shuts. Your eyes are glued to your phone during her walk of shame, not wanting to see any marks or anything that’ll make this any worst for you.

You hear Eddie’s footsteps getting closer, so you decide to take a peek. Eddie’s in nothing but his black jeans, while his checkered boxers peak out the top and a cigarette behind his ear.

Why is he coming over here?

“What are you, doing?” He says as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch

“Just scrolling on my phone.” You say as you look over at him, his face looked flushed and sweaty, it makes your stomach hurt even more. God, you can’t believe you are feeling this way for Eddie, you like him. You wish you could fucking leave, you hate this, you hate these old feelings you’ve stuffed down for so long, popping back up like a fucking Jack in the box.

“You uh, you want me to order a pizza or something? I worked up an appetite.” He smirks

“Yeah, cool.” You say almost low enough to be a whisper

“Okay, um. Do you want to watch a movie or something?” He says as he looks down at your cleavage, nipples hard and on display.

“No, I’m okay.” You say as you get up and make your way to the kitchen to grab a drink.

You didn’t see it, but Eddie’s eyes were roaming your body, as he licked his lips. Yeah, he just had sex with some random girl, but that was only to get his mind off of you, and your annoying, fucking attitude. Eddie would never admit it, but he loved your stupid sassy personality. You didn’t take his shit. Fuck, he wanted you so bad. He starts to wonder if he just blew any chance with you, by having another girl over. Dammit, He definitely did, there’s no way you’d touch him now.

Part two

Comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist (:

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson series #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fan fiction

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heartstopperthoughts · 7 months

Text

Any talented fanfiction writers in the Heartstopper fandom who want to write my Charlie Proposes First headcanon?

So, it takes place around the time that Charlie graduates uni (Nick graduated a year prior) and they’re moving into their first place together.

Tao has joined Charlie to help him do some moving-house shopping, and they pass by a jewelry store and Tao wants to stop to get Elle something for her birthday. Charlie sees a ring that it just so perfectly Nick. (At this point marriage is still kind of a far-off concept in Charlie’s mind. Like they’ve talked about getting married at some point but in a very abstract off-in-the-future kind of way.) He casually points out the ring to Tao who is like, “Haha, you guys have basically been married for years now, are you finally ready to tie the knot?” and Charlie kind of laughs it off, but then they go home, and Charlie cannot stop thinking about the ring. He doesn’t tell anyone, but he goes back to buy it and decides he’ll just save it for when he and Nick are both finally ready. But then just having the ring makes marriage feel more real, like he realizes he’s actually going to get married to Nick Nelson one day and he starts to kind of obsess over it and how he might propose. He wants it to be a grand gesture but he also wants to make it special and personal but not too cheesy and also not too public but not too boring either. In true Charlie Spring fashion, he gets himself all worked up over it, and to calm himself down, he starts to carry the ring around with him, just so he’s ready if the opportunity ever presents itself.

Anyways, flash forward a handful of months and Nick and Charlie are home for the holidays staying with Nick’s mom, and they’ve offered to do the Christmas dinner shopping. They’re walking through the store, just chatting, and Charlie can feel the ring in his pocket. He just stops and looks at Nick and all of the sudden realizes “I am so in love with this man, and I want to be married to him, like, yesterday.” And without even really thinking about it, Charlie blurts out “We should get married” and Nick thinks he means like someday eventually, so he just says “Yeah?” and turns around all smiley like nothing’s happening, and then he sees how nervous Charlie looks and he realizes Charlie is serious. Meanwhile alarms are going off in Charlie’s brain because he’s starting to realize like, “Oh shit, I think I’m proposing right now?!!!!” And he scrambles in his pocket for the ring and is like “Yeah!” and fumbles out this unplanned but incredibly heartfelt proposal. Nick is completely stunned and isn’t really saying anything, and Charlie’s brain starts to spiral like “Oh shit I’ve fucked it up! What am I doing proposing to him here?! Charlie Spring, you complete idiot! Of course you would pick the least romantic place in the entire world to ask the love of your life to marry you. As if he would say yes to you in a Tesco! You couldn’t have thought this through more?!” And then Nick starts to tear up and fishes around in his own pocket and pulls out… you guessed it, a ring! And they both start sobbing, and say yes to each other.

Turns out Nick had bought a ring back in the summer too and had wanted to propose but didn’t want to add stress to Charlie’s already full plate with graduation and starting a new job and moving into a new place, so he had decided to wait. He’d been trying to work up the nerve to take Charlie to the beach where they had their first date and propose there, but just wasn’t sure when it would be the right time, and he didn’t want to rush Charlie into anything if he wasn’t ready to be married just yet. And Charlie’s like, “Oh my God, I am so sorry I ruined your proposal! And I asked in a Tesco of all places. I’m an idiot!” And Nick hushes him and is like “You’re not. It was perfect. You’re perfect.”

And then they go to the beach anyways to celebrate their engagement.

#I know alice said she doesn’t know who proposes first #and most people seem to assume it would be Nick #but I’m here to say they are WRONG #It would 1000% be Charlie #in the most chaotic way possible #heartstopper #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper tv #heartstopper headcanons #nick and charlie #nick x charlie #narlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #osemanverse #alice oseman #kit connor #joe locke

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lushaletta · 4 months

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hide with me / james potter

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of mental health/anxiety, reader has a panic attack

summary: poorly written drabble in which you have awful anxiety and a lovely james.

a/n: i feel like this feels unfinished i’m so sorry… i clearly lost steam by the end but i hope you all like it! i am such a sucker for some james

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

It feels like the world is caving in on you. The ceiling is about to fall down and crush you under its weight.

The voices of those around have all mixed and faded into each other into a jumble of noise. You don’t quite know what Lily is saying, not even sure what Marlene is doing; you can hardly see anything.

A laughable attempt at taking a breath has you panicking more and you stumble out of Alice’s living room and onto her front patio as hot, salty tears sting your face.

The reason as to why you’re suddenly in this state has you confused. One moment, you’re fine and the next, you’re in full breakdown mode.

Fresh air. That’s usually all you need. You let the scent of pine fill your lungs, grounding yourself on the railing. You’re fine, you try to repeat to yourself. You’re fine.

“Hey,” a voice calls out. You whip around and spot a head of dark curls and pretty hazel eyes.

Him. You don’t know whether you’re happy or sad about his presence. There’s a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and he looks gorgeous as ever.

You’ve liked James a long time. Much too long. He’s liked Lily for longer.

You’re sure he knows about your feelings, you’d done a poor job at keeping them secret, and you’d be surprised if at this point he was unaware.

Remus knows because you’d confided in him first. He was sweet about it, stroking your hair and whispering kind words in your ear. Sirius knows from the “powers of deduction”, as he likes to call it.

“Hi,” he says, putting the cig between his fingers, flicking the ash off.

“Hi,” you reply, a little breathless.

He walks over to you, assessing your state. “Are you alright?”

He’s always been awfully caring. It’s half the reason you like him more than what’s healthy.

James knows your ins and outs. Your family history, all your favourite movies, how many freckles you have. He’s committed every part of you to memory.

He treats you like you’re fragile, like a porcelain doll. As if you’d break when dropped.

Maybe it’s self-righteousness. Maybe he’s doing it out of pity. Though, in this moment, it feels anything but.

“Just fine,” you whisper, staring at him so deeply it’s embarrassing.

“You ran off.”

You laugh a humourless laugh. “Did I?”

James nods, looking like he’s inspecting you. It makes you feel a little self-conscious.

A smile creeps across your face. It’s really only to conceal the awkwardness. “What?”

“I think we’re past the point of pretending everything is alright when it isn’t,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Will you tell me what happened?”

The bluntness of his words makes you nervous. He’s not typically so forward.

“I was overwhelmed.”

His arms lace around your shoulders. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay, let’s go, then,” he says, decidedly.

It’s a tempting offer. Being dragged away from all the noise and instead spending the night with James, but you don’t want to disrupt his evening with your feelings. He likes these people. He’s comfortable with them. He’s not like you, you say to yourself.

“No. I’m fine, James, really. Please don’t worry yourself.”

“I was kind of getting tired anyway. We can grab food and you can sleep at my place for the night, hm?” he insists, putting out his cig.

He’s doing it again. That thing where he’s just being so considerate and kind to the point that it bothers you.

“I..” you trail off, looking at the stars instead of his eyes. They’re both really beautiful.

“I’d like for you to come with me, sweetheart. Let’s get away. Just for a bit,” he tries again, gently tilting your face towards his.

You’re going to come with him. You were going to the first time he asked, no matter what, but you need to hear that he wants it.

You crack a smile. “Okay.”

Before midnight, you’re in his car. It’s a bit beaten up and the engine takes a couple of tries before it starts, but it’s a charming vehicle. He’s ordering fries for you, doing all the talking you’re so hesitant to.

There are muffled voices over the speaker. “Just a moment.” James turns to you. “Want a coke, baby?”

You nod, tapping your fingers on the window and fumbling with the button of your seatbelt.

He hands you a paper bag.

“Thank you, James. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me instead of with Lily at the gathering.”

His face contorts into a look of slight confusion as he grabs a fry from your hand. “Why would I want to be with Lily?” It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with Lily, it’s just that you could’ve asked about Sirius or Remus or even Frank.

“I mean, you like her, don’t you?” you say, voice quivering. Afraid of the answer.

“She’s a nice girl.” It’s not a no. You’re crushed. You nod your head like you’re unsurprised.

A forced smile makes its way onto your lips. “You two would look good together,” you say, hushed.

His brow quirks. “What? No.” It comes out a little sharp, and he immediately softens. “No, it’s not like that. Sorry.”

“Oh.” You hate yourself for it, but you feel your body immediately relax in relief.

Now he’s the uneasy one. His fingers are tapping on the steering wheel and he’s clearly purposely avoiding your gaze.

“Listen—“

“—I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “Sorry, you first.”

The car comes to a stop at some dark parking lot. James turns to face you. “What are you apologising for?”

Even you’re not too sure. It’s a mix of a few things; Lily, forcing him to stay with you, your anxiety, interrupting him, even. A general apology for your.. you-ness.

“All this. I just want you to be happy, James. I’m really sorry for always making you do this. Comfort me whenever I’m overwhelmed like that.”

He blinks. “I’m happy when I’m with you, sweetheart. Why don’t you understand that I enjoy doing this? I love when we escape from those dumb gatherings and do shit like this. I love it. I love you, damn it.”

Your heart drops. No, it stops. He had to be drunk. He was driving under the influence, surely. A crime. That’s a felony. Your head was absolutely spinning.

You don’t know what to do but stare blankly at him as his face asks you to just say something.

“What?”

“I love you! I don’t even know where you got that whole Lily thing. I love you! It’s always been you!”

Well, shit.

You lower your voice to a whisper. “So do something about it, Potter.”

And he does.

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter #marauders oneshot #marauders fanfiction #the maraunders map

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pepperonidk · 7 days

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roads diverged || h.js

pairing: joshua hong x reader warnings: super self-indulgent. some crying, life decisions, joshua is my comfort member word count: 759 summary: life is full of diverging roads, but it's okay as long as joshua's walking beside you

a/n: i'm definitely projecting lol. instead of crying for 3 hours, i decided to cry for 1 hour and write this for 2 hours :) problem solved

main masterlist

It’s not that you’re particularly a neat freak, but you’re pretty sure you read somewhere that cleaning your living space can help clear your mind.

It isn’t until you’re on your knees on the bathroom tile at 2 am, scrubbing between tiles with a pink toothbrush and a dream that you finally question the scientific validity of that Buzzfeed article. You let out a huff and pull the rubber gloves off your hands and throw them down onto the floor.

“Damn,” you hear a hoarse voice call from the bathroom door. “What did those gloves do to you?”

“Shua,” his name comes out as if you’re surprised at the shakiness in your own voice. Once he hears it too, his smirk falls into a frown and his eyebrows come together in concern. In the next instant, he’s on his knees beside you, pulling you into his arms.

“What’s wrong angel?” he whispers against your hair, rubbing his arms soothingly down your back.

His question is all it takes for the dam to break and not long after, the sleeve of Joshua’s light blue pajama shirt is soaked with tears. He shushes you as he pulls you tighter against him, and he wishes he could lift whatever burden was weighing you down.

It takes a minute before you can finally give him an answer. “Do you remember that really weird thing I asked you about a few weeks ago?” you managed to get out between hiccups.

He pulls away and shifts his hands down to hold yours. “Yeah,” he nods. “When you were reading that Robert Frost poem and you asked what happens if you don’t like the road less traveled and you want to go back and take the other one?”

You nod back at him, pulling your lip between your teeth to fight back the tears. “Yeah… that.”

“What about it?” he asks quietly, prodding you to continue.

“I think I’m going to quit my job,” you answered, unable to fight the second wave of tears.

“Oh, honey,” he began, his hands instinctively coming up to your face to wipe away the streams of tears. “What brought this on? I thought you liked your job.”

“I do,” you answer. “Well, I did. I’m not so sure anymore.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know,” you confess, dropping your head into your hands. “It’s just not… I just feel like I’m stuck, you know? Like what if I missed out on something better because I’m afraid of leaving something that’s familiar?”

Joshua hums thoughtfully, choosing his words before he continues. “That’s something I wish I knew the answer to,” he sighs and lifts your chin to look at him. He hates seeing you sad, but even more so knowing that this isn’t a problem he can fix for you. “But just think, honey, if you didn’t walk down this path, we wouldn’t have met.”

You nod and break out a small smile that mirrors his. “Yeah,” you agree. “That is pretty great.”

“See?” he continues. “I think you know, no matter which path you take, it’ll be lined with good things and bad things, and that’s okay.”

“I know, I know,” you affirm. “But I like it better when you tell me.”

Joshua lets out a chuckle before standing and holding his hand out to you. “I’ll keep telling you if you finally come to bed with me,” he offers and you take it, gathering your cleaning supplies into your free arm and setting them onto the counter.

Once you’ve both finally settled into bed, Joshua shuts off the lamp on the bedside table and pulls you flush against his chest. His fingers trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the steadiness of his heartbeat.

“As I promised,” he began. “There’s gonna be lots of diverging paths, you know? Lots of different ways to go. And they won’t always be as scenic as the ones before, or as neatly paved, or as—”

You playfully swat at his chest and smile at the rumble of laughter in his chest. “I get it,” you prod.

“My point is,” he drags out the last syllable, tilting his neck down to smile at you before yawning. “No matter which path you end up taking, I’ll be walking right next to you, holding your hand.” True to his word, he pulls your free hand into his before bringing it up to press a light kiss against your palm. “And every step is going to take us exactly where we need to go.”

taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao

#caratwritersclub #seventeenweeklyarticle #joshua hong #joshua hong x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen fluff #joshua hong fluff #joshua fluff #seventeen × reader #seventeen angst #seventeen imagine #ioshua honq imagine #svt ioshua #seventeen joshua fluff #hong jisoo #hong jisoo x reader

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bedsyandco · 4 months

Text

“I don’t want you to go,” luke says, his fingers tracing mindless patterns on her legs as his head rests on her stomach.

“I know, I don’t wanna go either, but I have to,” violet replies, both her hands playing with luke’s curls.

“It’s okay, it’s only a few more months and then we won’t have to say goodbye anymore,” luke says softly and Violet’s hands still, the words on the tip of her tongue but not knowing how to tell him.

“what is it?” luke asks, looking up and seeing the expression on her face. he knows, just by looking at her that there’s something she’s not telling him.

“i’ve been thinking that maybe i should hold off on moving for just another year and-“ her words getting halted when luke sits up suddenly

“you don’t wanna move to jersey?” luke asks, his frown deepening

“i don’t wanna move to jersey yet,” she answers, putting emphasis on the last word.

“but we talked about this. you said you wanted to wait until Daxton graduates and moves away. he’s moving to boston this summer,” luke says, not understanding where this was coming from.

“i know but i wanna finish my degree at michigan,” violet responds

“why can’t you finish your degree here? i mean the courses should be the same,” luke says and violet sighs standing up from the bed.

“i don’t wanna move before i finish my degree luke. i wanna graduate there. that’s always been my plan,” she says, making it clear that this wasn’t really up for negotiation.

“but you said that you’d move when daxton leaves,” luke argues

“i said i’d think about it. and i did think about it, and I decided it’s best for me to stay in michigan and finish my degree,” violet says, her tone impatient

“what about what’s best for us?” luke asks raising his voice a little, standing up from the bed and walking closer to her, but there was still a reasonable distance between them, physically and emotionally.

“we’re already doing long distance,” violet argues

“yeah and it fucking sucks!” luke yells

“I know. You think you’re the only one that doesn’t like doing long distance? You’re not even the one flying back and forth every three weeks luke, I am.” Violet replies firmly, her voice loud but not yelling.

“you wouldn’t have to fly back and forth if you would just move here, like you said you were going to. You also said you were going to call me at least once a day and that also isn’t happening, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re not keeping your word on this either,” luke says and Violet feels a little pang in her stomach, wrapping her arms around herself and just looking at Luke for a few seconds.

“I’m a full time student Luke, with a job, and friends and family. I have a schedule I need to follow and I’m sorry that schedule doesn’t always revolve around you. I’m doing the best that I can. A relationship is about compromise and sacrifice you know?” Violet says

“I’m already sacrificing-“ Luke starts and Violet raises her eyebrow at him.

“what exactly are you sacrificing luke? please say it, you obviously wanted to a second ago,” Violet asks

“Nothing. We should go, your flight leaves in a couple of hours,” luke mumbles

“no what are you sacrificing? do you feel like you’re missing out on something? sacrificing all the hookups you could be having on the road instead of waiting for your girlfriend to text you back? because if that’s the case then I wouldn’t want you to have to struggle with those sacrifices any longer,” Violet says, her voice trembling a little.

“Violet-,” luke says reaching for her but she pulls away.

“no. I don’t know what’s gotten into you but you need to do some re-evaluating and decide if those sacrifices are worth it. This is all I can offer you right now Luke, take it or leave it.” Violet says, grabbing her packed suitcase and her phone and opening the bed room door. At the last second she turns around seeing Luke sit on the bed with his head in his hands.

“You know I’m making sacrifices for you too. I’m going to be sacrificing a whole lot in my future to be with you, and support you through the career you chose. And I’m willing to do that happily because I love you and I wanna be with you. All I’m asking for is a little bit of time Luke, a few extra months.” Violet says and walks back to where he’s sitting, standing between his legs as he cups the back of them, running them up and down soothingly.

“you have a right to be upset luke, your feelings are valid and I’m sorry, this really does suck. but it’s temporary and I promise we’ll make it work. I’m gonna ask Jack to drive me to the airport. Take some time to think about what I said okay? and we’ll talk about it some more. I love you,” Violet says kissing his forehead and making her way out of his room and finding Jack already standing at the door waiting for her.

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ violet + luke ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

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Soft Spot

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x shy!assistant!fem!reader

Summary: When you're kidnapped and used as a pawn, Deacon sets out to find you. Once you're tied up together, he changes his goals regarding your safety, finding a soft spot in the kidnappers and himself.

Warnings: spoilers (rewrite) for SWAT episode 3x15 "Knockout"; angst to fluff

Word Count: 3.4k+ words

A/N: Deacon in a suit + Street's scene in the luxury box = one of the best episodes.

Picture from Pinterest

You have only been Gio Torres’s personal assistant for a week - since he arrived in Los Angeles - but he got attached to you quickly. Your shy demeanor and kindness toward his wife made it easy for Gio to decide he likes you.

“Where are we going?” you ask quietly.

“To meet the security team, hermana,” Gio answers, smiling as he wraps his arm around Esther.

Frowning when you think of meeting even more people, Gio takes pity on you and offers to handle the introductions.

“They don’t need to know who I am, Gio,” you remind him. “I’m just here for you and Esther.”

Gio tilts his head to the side as Esther replies, “And if they want to meet you?”

“I hope they don’t,” you mumble.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you enter the arena, a few men in suits are standing around a television displaying the building’s blueprint. You notice the one closest to the screen is attractive and immediately drop your chin as he looks toward you. Walking behind Gio, though, you don’t expect he’ll even realize you’re there. Most people don’t.

“Hey, champ,” the other man greets. “This is my business partner, David Kay. He’s managing our security team. Meet Gio Torres, reigning welterweight champion of the world, and his wife Esther.”

David shakes hands with Gio and Esther before the other man excuses himself to answer his phone.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says. “And please, call me Deacon.”

“Diacono? Like padre, priest?” Gio asks.

“No, no, it’s just a nickname.” Deacon looks to Esther to ask, “It’s your first?”

“Yes,” she replies happily.

Deacon turns toward you, extending his hand. “I didn’t catch your name.”

You shake his hand, giving him a small smile as you say your name. “I’m Gio’s assistant.”

“Nice to meet you as well, and I guess that means we’re kind of working together.”

Nodding, you’re glad when Gio draws Deacon’s attention away.

“You know, this place is so… new. We had nothing like it in Havana,” Gio explains. “One day we will.”

“Well, best of luck to you tonight,” Deacon says. “And congratulations.”

“Gracias, Padre.”

You shake your head at Gio’s nickname, smiling at Deacon again as you follow Gio and Esther out of the arena. You can feel Deacon’s eyes on you, and your neck warms at the attention.

“Someone likes padre,” Esther teases, bumping her elbow against your arm.

Rolling your eyes, you keep your head down so your giddy smile doesn’t betray your secrecy.

“Sí, claro,” Gio agrees, chuckling.

✯✯✯✯✯

Gio sent you to find Deacon, telling you he wants to give him something for his SWAT team. You don’t know how Gio learned he was a SWAT agent when he isn’t working in private security, but it’s your job to get what Gio wants, so you go. Standing to the side and waiting for him to notice you, you accidentally overhear his conversation.

“Aren’t these fights usually in Vegas?” the woman beside him asks.

“Yeah,” Deacon answers. “But Maxwell wanted to fight in his own hometown.”

“Why does the former champion get to call the shots?”

“That’s why.”

Deacon points to Jackie Shaw, who you had the displeasure of meeting this morning. He’s full of himself and has a wandering eye. He may be the biggest promoter and responsible for the biggest fight of the season, but he does not seem like a good man.

“I’m gonna make the rounds,” Deacon says, turning toward you. He stops when he sees you, smiling as he says your name.

“You remembered?”

“How could I not?”

Pressing your lips together and dropping your eyes to the floor, you say, “Gio wants to see you when you have a minute.”

“I can go now. Care to show me the way?”

Looking up, the smile on his face makes you think he knows that his actions are impacting you. When he falls into step beside you, keeping his attention on you as you walk, you realize that Esther was right; you do like him, but you’ll never be able to act on it.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Oi, Padre,” Gio greets as you lead Deacon into the room.

“I’m going to go with the driver to get Esther from the hotel,” you tell Gio.

You nod at Deacon on your way out, and the look he gives you makes you wish you could stay.

✯✯✯✯✯

You walk out of the hotel, answering an email from Jackie Shaw’s marketing team as you get in the car. Esther should be out in a moment, but the door beside you opens suddenly, and a man you don’t recognize climbs inside.

“Uh, I think you’re in the wrong car,” you tell him.

The car begins moving, and you ask the driver to go back, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. When you look out the window, the man beside you unsheathes a serrated knife, holding it up so you can see it.

“Don’t yell for help,” he demands.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon is doing his rounds again when he stops by Gio’s locker room.

“My nephews are gonna go nuts. Thank you,” Chris says, accepting a signed poster.

“De nada,” Gio replies.

Esther and one of the security guards enter the room, and Deacon looks over when Esther says your name.

“No esta aqui?” Esther asks.

“No.”

They continue speaking in Spanish, and Deacon can tell they’re distressed and concerned about something. He doesn’t like that your name is involved.

“What’s wrong?” he asks Chris.

“His assistant disappeared from the hotel. His trainer’s out looking for her.”

Someone knocks on the door, and Deacon steps in front of him. “Hey, not now. You can get a selfie later.”

“Hey, Torres, I’m supposed to deliver this to you,” the man says.

“Let me see that. Chris,” Deacon calls.

“Stand right here. Don’t move,” Chris demands, pulling the man into the room.

“There’s a voice mail.” Deacon presses play, his jaw clenched as he listens to the distorted voice.

‘We have your hermana, your assistant. Lose this fight or she dies. No cops, or your wife is next.’

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got the wrong girl!” a man yells.

You flinch at the sudden noise. Tied to a chair, blindfolded, and gagged, you have no way of knowing who the men are or what they're doing in here.

“How do you mistake her for Gio’s pregnant wife?”

“She was in the car, I didn’t know!”

“He likes her, so it’ll have to work. That or we find another chance to get the wife.”

“It’ll work.”

That’s what you’re worried about.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What can I do to help?” Gio asks.

“Your weigh-in’s about to start. If you don’t show up, people will know something’s wrong,” Chris answers. “It might alert the kidnappers.”

“I know this is hard. But you have to go out there and pretend that everything is normal. We have people with your wife, they can’t get to her, and we’re doing everything we can to find the people who did this,” Deacon promises.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon notices a man filming Gio at the weigh-in and follows him out of the arena, pausing in an alley to call Hondo.

“Yeah, Deac, talk to me. What’s going on?” Hondo asks.

“There was a suspicious guy around the weigh-in. White, six foot, 25 to 30. It’s probably nothing, but I want to check it out,” Deacon replies. “He walked into an old factory six blocks from the arena.”

“You got an address?”

“Twelfth and Maple. Northwest alley.”

“Street’s callin’ for backup, Deac.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Secured to the chair and blindfolded, you can’t see when people come or go, and have no idea where you are. Several men have been in and out, and you try to breathe quietly and listen for them.

A voice - Deacon, you know immediately - says your name before asking, “Are you okay? I’m here to help.” He lifts the blindfold over your head and says, “Hey.”

You pant as he pulls the gag from your mouth, nodding as you thank him. Deacon kneels beside you, keeping a hand on your arm. He pulls his phone from his pocket and talks while he unties you.

“Hey, Hondo,” he says. “I found her. She’s tied up, but she’s okay.”

You shake your arm, trying to alert Deacon of the men entering the room, but it doesn’t work, so you turn your head toward him, hoping to find comfort in his presence.

“Stand up,” one of the men commands.

Deacon drops something into a box, moving his phone to his pocket as he stands and raises his hands in surrender. Both men point guns at Deacon, and you push back against your chair, hoping that this doesn’t end terribly.

“I probably shouldn’t be here, huh?” Deacon asks. “I followed him from the weigh-in. I was in the room when Torres heard the message, and- and he begged me not to do anything, but I… I thought if I found his assistant, you know, maybe he’d give a reward or something. Look, the name is Schupatz. I’m just a security guard. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Turn around,” the men demand.

“I don’t want to cause any problems.”

Deacon turns, and you flinch when he’s hit over the head with the butt of a gun. Bringing your shoulder to your cheek, you look away and try to hide, but the man turns to you, forcing you to drink a strange-colored medicine before everything goes dark.

✯✯✯✯✯

You regain consciousness before Deacon, watching him as you sit in the dusty room. He tips his head back and groans before opening his eyes.

“You okay?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Are you?”

With Deacon’s complete attention on you, despite the life-threatening situation, you grow shy and can only shrug.

“Did they hurt you?”

“Gave me medicine that knocked me out,” you explain.

“You feel okay?”

Nodding, you look at Deacon’s shoes.

“I don’t know the men who did this, but help is on the way,” Deacon promises. “There are people looking for you. They’ll come for me too. I’m a police officer.”

“SWAT,” you murmur.

“How’d you- Gio. Right?” Deacon looks around, and you flex your wrists under the rope. “All right, we got to get out of here. They need you alive as leverage until Gio loses the fight. But they’ll get rid of me soon enough. Unless we get out of here first.”

“What can I do?”

“Best thing you can do? Stay calm. I’m gonna get us out of here.”

You nod as Deacon moves his arms, trying to find a way to get free.

“Will Gio really lose?” you ask, looking at Deacon’s face.

“For you? Of course.”

He smiles as he answers, and you find it much easier to stay calm.

“Who’s Schupatz?”

“A clue to help my team find us, I hope.”

Nodding, you fall silent again. While you watch Deacon, you take his advice to stay calm and trust him. He’s breathing deeply from trying to free himself, and when he pauses, you decide to try talking to him again.

“The medicine they made me drink… will it hurt me?”

“Nah. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Gio and Esther have to be okay. If they have to leave early because of me, and their baby is born in Cuba, their lives are as good as over. They need to stay in America, Deacon. Tonight can’t be the end for them.”

“No, and it won’t be,” Deacon agrees, raising his arms again before the door opens.

You fold in on yourself, moving back as a man kneels before you, offering an open bottle.

“It’s just water,” he says.

Looking at Deacon, you wait for him to say, “It’s okay,” before taking a drink.

You feel a bit better, your dry lips and throat soothed by the water, but you furrow your brows at the look on Deacon’s face. He waits for the men to exit, closing the door behind them, to speak.

“I think we just found their soft spot,” he explains. He doesn’t mention that he’s developing his own soft spot for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

You force yourself to cry, screaming in faux pain as you push yourself against the control you’re tied to. Hooking your arm through it, pretending to be trapped, you follow Deacon’s instructions exactly.

“Hey, she needs help!” Deacon yells toward the door. “She’s losing circulation!”

The door opens, and two men enter, looking between you and Deacon.

“She tried to turn around and her arm got caught, you need to get her help,” Deacon explains. “Look, I’m a trained medic. All right? Let me out of here. Let me help her.”

“Unlock him,” one of the men says.

You continue your act as Deacon is released, standing before pushing one of the men against the wall and reaching for his taser. The second man grabs Deacon from behind, slamming him against the metal machinery he’s been tied to for what seems like forever. He groans as the men resecure his bindings, elevating his arms over his head.

“Torres is gonna lose the fight. He’s gonna do whatever you want, so there is no reason to keep her trapped like an animal,” Deacon exclaims. “Let her go.”

The men leave without another word, and you lean your face against your hands as Deacon’s chin drops toward his chest.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How much time do you think we have?” You stretch your legs toward Deacon, wishing you were feeling talkative for any other reason.

“I don’t know,” he answers.

“What are we going to do? And please don’t say you don’t know.”

Deacon chuckles, raising his shoulders. “Ow.”

“What?” you ask, looking up as Deacon moves his hands on the metal beam above him.

You hear the wire around his wrists scrubbing, and you know it has to be torture on his shoulders, but you grow hopeful at the prospect of Deacon freeing himself.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Footsteps,” you alert, just as Deacon’s arms drop, the wire snapping.

He rises, stumbling as he gains his bearings before moving to a corner behind the door to wait. Deacon is keeping his promise, and once you are safe, he’s going to try to make you shy again. It’s not necessarily a noble goal, but if it’s enough to get him through the fight, that’s all he needs.

One man enters, and Deacon waits for him to walk past before wrapping one arm around his neck, pulling tightly until the man collapses. You watch as Deacon finds a taser in his pocket, taking it before moving to untie you.

“All right. Come here,” Deacon whispers, helping you to your feet. “Are you in any actual pain or was that just really good acting?”

“I’m okay.”

Deacon looks into your eyes, nodding before leading you into a hallway. Someone yells, the sound echoing through the building.

“You can go without me, Deacon,” you offer, trying to release his hand.

His grip tightens, and he pulls you closer. “No, listen. Go in here. I’m going to lock you in here. You’ll be safe. Trust me, they’re gonna think you escaped. You just stay as quiet as possible.”

You grab his hand again, finding the courage to look directly into his brown eyes as you ask, “Will you come back?”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

You nod, releasing his hand and stepping back as the metal door closes on you.

✯✯✯✯✯

While you grow scared, alone in a locked room, Deacon is working on keeping his promise. A few blocks away, Gio is throwing a fight to save you. If your life weren’t in danger, you wouldn’t be able to handle this much attention.

You hear a police officer radio that a suspect is down and call for help. The door opens, and a man in a SWAT uniform identifies himself as a police officer.

“I got you,” he says, leading you to another officer, who takes you toward the door.

In another part of the theater, Deacon climbs onto the edge of a balcony, waiting for the right moment to drop onto the Schupatz lookalike, attempting to tase him before fighting over a gun. As they roll over one another, the trigger is pulled, and several bullets are fired into the large projector screen showing the fight.

Deacon rises to his hands and knees, knocking the other man off balance as he stands. Moving behind him, Deacon tackles the man, knocking over the projector as they fall together. Pinning the man to the floor, Deacon punches him until he stops fighting back.

“Deac!” Tan yells, entering the theater.

Deacon says your name and Hondo answers, “She’s outside with the EMTs.”

“We got the whole crew,” Street adds.

“It’s good to see you, Schupatz,” Hondo jokes.

“Good to see you, too,” Deacon replies. “All of you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

At the same time that Gio learns you are safe and turns the tide of the fight, you are watching the theater entrance for Deacon. When he walks out, rushing toward you, you stand and meet him halfway, hugging him tightly and pressing your face into his dirty blazer.

“Your face is cut, sir, we’re gonna need to tape that,” an EMT says.

“Give me a minute,” Deacon answers, tightening his grip on you.

“Let ‘em do their job,” you murmur.

Deacon huffs, and you feel his heartbeat as you pull away. Holding your hand, Deacon pulls you with him as the paramedic cleans and tapes the cut on his cheekbone.

“Still pretty,” you whisper.

Smiling widely, Deacon turns his head toward you. When you duck your head and try to pull your hand from Deacon’s, he chuckles and tugs you closer.

“This would be a terrible time to find out you’re leaving with Torres,” he murmurs.

You shake your head, explaining you’re based in Los Angeles but do freelance work with celebrities while they’re in town. Deacon is sure you’re a popular choice, unwilling or unable to talk to celebrities simply because of who you are.

“Esther went into labor,” Hondo tells Deacon. “They’re at Shaw Memorial.”

Deacon leads you to a grey Dodge Charger, taking the keys from Street before helping you into the passenger seat. He smiles as he drives, glad he completed both promises: getting you out safe and making you shy afterward.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hi,” you greet, walking into Esther’s hospital room.

Deacon enters behind you, waiting at the foot of the bed while you hug Gio and Esther, extending a finger to their new baby. Chris arrives a moment later, and Gio turns his attention to her and Deacon.

“I’m not sure how to thank you,” he expresses, hugging Chris.

Deacon watches you and the baby, a caring look in his eye accompanying his smile.

“Padre,” Gio greets, shaking Deacon’s hand before hugging him too.

You roll your eyes at the nickname again, and Deacon smiles when he notices.

“Mira,” Gio says, directing attention to his son.

“We name him Jorge,” Esther adds.

“Congratulations,” Chris offers.

“Welcome to the world, little man,” Deacon cheers, looking at Jorge before his eyes return to you.

Chris moves to close the door, and Deacon tears his eyes from you to speak to Gio and Esther. “So I know this isn’t a great time, but the Cuban delegation is camped out down the hall. This might be our only chance to talk.”

“They charted a flight to Havana for you, leaving Monday morning,” Chris adds.

“So I contacted your immigration lawyer in San Francisco, and he said he’ll be here Sunday night.”

“Thank you so much,” Gio replies. “Pero, how did you know?”

“Someone gets talktative when they’re held hostage,” Deacon jokes, looking over at you.

“Gracias, hermana,” Gio says, pulling you into another hug.

You’re glad to hide from Deacon for a moment, but when it’s time to leave, he takes your hand, and your skin warms immediately.

“I shouldn’t talk to you ever again,” you tell him.

“But you will?” he asks.

You nod, and Deacon turns to you, the same caring look present in his eyes as he raises his free hand to your cheek.

“Then I’m glad I kept my promise.”

“Seems like you have a soft spot too,” you mumble against his hand, leaning toward him.

“Maybe I do,” Deacon agrees, smiling as he moves his hand, wrapping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. He kisses the crown of your head and laughs when you turn to hide against his suit again.

#david deacon kay x reader #shy!reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #fem!reader

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rylem33 · 26 days

Text

The Collector: Rebecca

This is a new one from me. I'm thinking of making this a series. I'd love your thoughts on the concept of The Collector.

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

Rebecca sat in line at the grocery store, counting the price of the items in her cart. She double-checked her bank account balance. It’s going to be a tough week. Heck, it’s been a tough few months.

She thought of her young daughter, the apple of her eye. I just have to keep moving forward. As long as Janie doesn’t go hungry, I’m succeeding.

“Curious, isn’t it, how the simplest choices can weigh so heavily?” came a statement from the man behind her in line. He nodded towards the items in Rebecca’s cart. Rebecca froze for a second, off put by this interruption. She turned to face the man, his expression putting her mind at ease.

“Yes, it can be hard sometimes,” Rebecca replied, surprised at her own openness with a complete stranger.

The Collector smiled, his interest apparent. “And what choices weigh on you today?” he inquired, his tone gentle.

Rebecca hesitated, but there was something soothing about the guy’s voice. Is it really so obvious that I’m struggling? she wondered, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief at being seen. “Oh, ya know, just the usual stuff,” she found herself responding, more open than she intended. Why am I even sharing this with a stranger?

“Indeed, a delicate balance,” The Collector responded, his interest piqued. “And is this a solo act, or do you have someone sharing this tightrope walk with you?”

Rebecca’s thoughts immediately went to her daughter. My little warrior. Everything I do, I do for her. The pride and love she felt for her daughter were evident, even as she spoke of her hardships. “Just me and my little girl. I’m always working to make sure she’s got what she needs.”

“Admirable,” he acknowledged, leaning in slightly. “Does this journey bring you more joy, or is it more like a constant worry?”

Joy? Worry? Of course, it’s both. “It’s a bit of both, really,” she admitted, surprised at her own willingness to be so candid. “I mean, I love my daughter to bits, wouldn’t trade her for the world. But, man, it’s tough. Working my butt off for peanuts, always feeling like you’re just one bad day away from everything crashing down.”

“Commendable,” he nodded. “And in this effort, where do you find yourself most days? What path of employment have you taken?”

Rebecca paused, a hint of embarrassment coloring her voice. “I work at a diner, ya know? Waiting tables. It ain’t much, but it pays some of the bills. I can pickup shifts, sometimes, for a bit extra. Just, it feels like it’s never enough to get ahead, ya know?”

Revealing her job at the diner brought a twinge of embarrassment, Just a waitress. That’s all people see. But it’s more than that to me. It’s survival.

The Collector’s look was full of sympathy, but there was something else there, too, like he really got it. “The burden of such responsibility is heavy indeed. What if I told you there was a way to ease this burden? To make your life less about scraping by and more about really living?”

Could there really be a way out? Or is this just another dead end dressed up in pretty words? “Yeah, that sounds pretty good. But how’s something like that supposed to happen?” she asked, a desperate hope flickering inside her. “It’s not like jobs are just falling out of the sky, especially not for someone like me.”

“Ah, but what if I told you that the sky is not the limit, but merely the beginning?” The Collector offered, his voice a blend of mystery and assurance. “Opportunities are not always born from the clouds but from the willingness to embrace change.”

Rebecca thought over his words. Her head told her this was nuts, but she was intrigued. Change? I could really use a break. “And what’s this ‘opportunity’ gonna cost me?” she asked, trying to sound tough but feeling her resolve soften.

“Simply a willingness to step onto a new path,” The Collector answered, his smile cryptic.

Rebecca found herself oddly calm and trusting of this man. I’d do anything to help Janie have a good life.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’m in.”

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

Rebecca, still grappling with the surreal nature of the conversation, began to ask, “So, what kind of job are you talking about—”

She was cut off, not by an answer, but by an odd, tingling sensation beneath her skin. Rebecca stared down in disbelief as the very fabric of her clothes began to alter before her eyes. Her plain, slightly worn-out sweater began to shrink and tighten, morphing into a vibrant red top that was far more revealing than anything in her wardrobe. It was an awkward fit at first, hanging oddly on her frame, clearly meant for a more voluptuous figure than hers.

This can’t be happening. Clothes don’t just change on their own.

Next, her attention shifted to her jeans, the reliable faded pair she’d worn countless times. They too began to change, the fabric tightening and shifting until it took on a new texture and appearance. Before she could process what was happening, her jeans had turned into shiny black leggings that were oddly loose on her hips and way too tight for her legs. The outfit looked misplaced on her, clearly designed for a different body type.

This is insane. That’s not my style. I wouldn’t wear that in a million years. I look ridiculous.

Then, the sensation beneath her skin intensified, spreading from the surface to her very core. Rebecca could only watch in stunned silence as her body began to change. Her stomach tightened and firmed, revealing a toned midriff that made the cropped top appear deliberately provocative rather than awkwardly ill-fitting.

My body… it’s changing?

Her breasts filled out next, swelling in a way that made the top’s low neckline shift from simply bold to outright indecent. Simultaneously, her legs thinned, muscles defining themselves in a graceful, yet strong display, while her buttocks firmed and swelled into a perfect heart shape, making the shiny leggings look as if they were painted on.

This can’t be me. I’ve never looked like this.

With her body now transformed, the ensemble of the vibrant top and leggings no longer seemed out of place. Instead, Rebecca looked like a walking dream, or wet dream. Seeing her reflection in the reflective glass near the register, Rebecca was horrified.

“What’s happening to me?” she gasped, her voice a mix of fear and disbelief.

The Collector watched, a serene assurance in his eyes. “It is simply the fulfillment of your request,” he said, his voice calm and unperturbed by the dramatic changes unfolding.

Fulfillment of my request? This is a nightmare, not a dream come true.

Rebecca’s attempt to voice her shock was immediately undercut by a change in her voice.. “What the hell is this? I didn’t ask for any—” she started, but her words quickly took on a coarser edge, her tone flirtatious yet something else as well.

This can’t be my voice. This isn’t what I sound like.

Her bewilderment only deepened as she heard herself speak. “What’ the fuck is going on, huh?” she blurted out, her language now a stark contrast to her previously reserved self.

Why am I talking like this? Since when do I use language like that in public?

The Collector observed her, his demeanor calm and unfazed. “You’re merely adapting to the opportunities ahead, embracing a new aspect of prosperity,” he explained, his tone soothing yet detached from the radical change overtaking her.

As Rebecca tried to voice her protest, not only did her words betray her, but her body began to move in new ways too. Every gesture, every shift in stance, seemed to accentuate her new figure. She noticed her posture straightening, her shoulders pulling back to thrust her chest forward, a stance she’d never taken before.

He’s acting like this is normal. Like I’m supposed to embrace becoming… what? Cheap slut?

She found herself leaning on the grocery cart with one hip cocked to the side, a pose that seemed calculated to draw attention to her curves. “Great, just fucking perfect. Is this how I stand now? Like I’m posing for a porn mag?” Her voice dripped with incredulity, even as her body language continued to contradict her words.

Even the simple act of reaching up to brush a stray hair from her face became a deliberate, sensuous action, her fingers trailing down her cheek in a way that seemed designed to captivate an audience. Rebecca caught herself in the middle of these motions, her frustration mounting. “And what’s with these fucking moves? I’m grocery shopping, not auditioning for a porno.”

The Collector observed her transformation with an air of detached curiosity. “Every aspect of you is embracing this new chapter, a chapter where you command attention effortlessly,” he noted, his calm tone a stark contrast to the storm of confusion and adaptation Rebecca was experiencing.

I guess I look kinda good.

Her attempts to counteract these involuntary poses and movements only led to further emphasis on her voluptuous figure, each protest accompanied by a hip sway or a chest thrust she hadn’t intended. “I’m hot, but how is anyone going to take me seriously?” she quipped, half in dismay and half in disbelief.

Finally, something in her brain clicked. Rebecca’s thoughts, her very perspective on life, began to align with this new version of herself, “Ruby,” as she would be known in her trade. Her initial panic and resistance faded away, replaced by a confident acceptance of her new identity.

Standing in the grocery store, now fully transformed, Ruby pulled out a wad of cash. She noticed a few judgemental glances her way and smiled.

Screw those fuckers. Life’s good. Stripping isn’t easy work, but I can take care of Janie and have time to spend with her. I’ll have her college paid off by the time she’s 10.

She paid for the food without a second thought. She even tipped the young cashier while giving him a wink.

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

The Collector observed from a discreet distance. After Ruby had gathered her bags and turned toward the store’s exit, a small, knowing smile played across his lips.

In a smooth, almost ceremonial motion, he reached into the depths of his coat, withdrawing his hand to reveal a small, unidentifiable object clasped between his fingers. With grace, he slipped the object into his pocket, its significance known only to him.

Without another glance or gesture to indicate his intentions, The Collector stepped out of line, bypassing the cashier’s counter altogether. He left no items behind to be purchased, no trace of his presence was left behind.

#f2f transformation #personality change

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cjsoleil · 3 months

Text

My Love That I’m Giving You Don’t Buy, So I Hide (Lee Know x Han)

Summary:

Han and Minho have been working together at the same accounting firm for a while now, and for some reason, Minho simply doesn’t like Han. At least that’s what he thinks. After a drunken night, Minho makes his true feelings clear at the office.

Warnings: Smut (MDNI)

The sounds of typing on a keyboard is somehow soothing, despite how when Jisung first started working, he found it more annoying than his friends. Which is saying something. He guesses it’s because the sound is a constant in his life and he has grown used to it. Sometimes he likes to make a little beat to the clicking sound in his head, bouncing his leg to it. Melodies can be found in anything, he suppose.

“Hyung, stop daydreaming.” Jisung looks up to see Seungmin’s fluffy brown hair peaking over the desks divider. He finds it somewhat creepy how the younger doesn’t even have to look at him to know that he’s not doing any work. No shock though, Seungmin loves proficiency despite just being an intern, still in school.

“I’m on my break.”

“Liar.”

“Shush. Listen to your elder and do your own work.” Seungmin shrugs.

“Guess I won’t tell you what I heard.”

Han slowly pushes out his chair in an almost comical way, tilting his head towards the puppy like intern.

“What is it?” He leans in close, whispering,

“Is it about Minyoung? She’s really dating someone over ten years younger-“

“Not that kind of gossip.” Seungmin interrupts, shaking his head,

“You know how Heejin is moving to Japan. Her husband was offered some job out there.” Han instantly smiles at the old news. It’s not that he doesn’t like the woman, she’s very kind, but Heejin resigning gives him a chance at getting a promotion. They work at a accounting firm. Big enough that they have plenty of clientele, some even being famous. Small enough so that the workers are cared about and not just numbers in the business.

“I overheard a couple of the managers say it’s between you and Minho, congrats.” Han sighs, wheeling back to his desk, “C’mon hyung. It’s not that bad.”

“Minho hates me Seungminnie! I haven’t even done anything to him.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He just wants to fuck you.”

“Seungmin!” Han whispers shouts, “Shut up. And you know that’s not true.” He’s pretty sure Minho isn’t interested in men.

“Even if he did hate you, who cares?” Seungmin attempts to comfort the elder, “Minho is just so… intimidating. I don’t want to be on his bad side more than I already am.”

Minho is the textbook definition of perfection. He is a hard worker who puts good use out of his full potential, he is smart and teaches the interns well. The man appears to be mean to the bone, but the pictures of his cats that he leaves on his desk shows otherwise. He is respectful and, in all truth, so hot. And Han is not saying that because he happens to find Minho attractive. Everyone acknowledges that he’s hot, even Seungmin said so once.

He transferred to this firm just a couple months ago and for a reason that Han does not know, Minho does not like him. He doesn’t fully disrespect him or anything, but whenever they talk, it almost feels like he’s being degraded in a way. Minho sometimes acts as if he’s uncomfortable being around Han too. Han doesn’t even know what he did! He would apologize if he knew that he said or did something to make the man uncomfortable.

“If you’re that concerned, confront him about it.” Jisung blankly stares at him before letting out a sarcastic laugh.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny thinking my anxiety would let me do that.” Seungmin hums and Han tries to change the conversation,

“Are you coming to the bar next week?” The younger stares at him like he just said something so idiotic,

“I’m getting paid to drink. Of course.” Their work holds events like these all the time. Team bonding or whatever excuse they use. Everyone gets paid to go to a bar, eat and get drunk.

“Are you finally going to bring your man?” A new voice enters, and Seungmin rolls his eyes at the sound as Han smiles.

“I’m not going to if you pester me, Changbin hyung.” The muscular man leans against the corner of Han’s and Seungmin’s desks.

“C’mon Minnie.” Jisung starts with a teasing tone, “Stop hiding him from us, we’ve known you what? Two years?”

“Letting you guys meet Jeongin would end with me being embarrassed.” Seungmin replies, looking at a file on his desk, “Focus on getting your own boyfriend.” Han fakes the action of getting stabbed in the heart.

“Oh yeah.” Changbin looks at the other, “How’s the dating scene going?” Jisung shrugs, unproductive is what the answer is.

“I just…” he clicks his tongue, looking off to the side. It’s a mistake, he makes direct eye contact with Minho who’s at his own desk. To Han’s surprise, he doesn’t look away, he just stares deep into Jisung’s soul without a mere shimmer of emotion that he can detect. The younger can’t even move, almost as if Medusa had turned him to stone, forever keeping him locked in the trance of Minho’s eyes.

That is until Minho cocks his eyebrow at him, and Jisung cowardly looks away back down on his desk.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person.” Changbin and Seungmin, who had just watched in amusement as Jisung was a deer in headlights for their coworker, share a knowing look.

“The one will come along Sungie.” Changbin reassures, wearing a soft smile.

“Yeah.” The youngest adds with a fond look in his eyes, thinking of his own love, “They’re always closer than you think.” Jisung nods his head with a grin, somewhat forced.

“Yeah yeah. Now go get to work before Chan catches you.” At the mention of the elder’s name, Changbin walks the short distance back to his own desk, waving back at the younger two. Seungmin looks back down at his file and Jisung does the same. After a few minutes, just for a second, he looks up towards Minho’s desk to see him typing on his computer, completely focused on his task. The accountant sighs before turning to his own work.

Han sits at a table along with Changbin and a few other coworkers in a bar. Seungmin was sitting with them as well, but he got dragged over by other departments to do shots with them. He probably got drunk within the first hour.

“Hey guys.” Jeongin greets when he comes over, with a clearly intoxicated Seungmin on his arm. Jeongin came with Seungmin like his coworkers requested, they all find him lovely, “We’re going to head out now. Just wanted to say goodbye, right Minnie.” Seungmin giggles and rests his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder,

“Innie, I didn’t tell you about one of my clients. He’s a giant-“ he emphasizes the last word, “deal.” He tilts his head up to loudly whisper in Jeongin’s ear, “It’s the pitcher for lotte giants.” Jisung and Changbin stare wide eyed at Seungmin sharing confidential information. Jeongin pats Seungmin’s hair,

“Didn’t hear anything.” He tells the older two, faking oblivion, “Anyways, nice meeting you all. Take care.”

“Noo..”

“We’re going sweetheart.”

“Okay, bye~” The two boys leave and a number of people follow soon after.

Jisung takes a look around the room, but his eyes linger at the bar where Minho sits. His back is facing him so Jisung doesn’t have to be worried about him catching his stare, but at the same time he wishes to see the man’s face. Changbin’s voice forces him to look away.

“Talk to him.” The elder tells him, way too loudly. Changbin is a loud man, only more so when he’s drunk. Jisung shakes his head no, as if he’s a child and Changbin whines like one. “Don’t be a coward!” He pesters the younger man until he finally agrees, downing his drink in one go before walking to the bar. Maybe stumbling is a better word, because Han is drunk out of his mind. Drunk enough to loose his balance and sense of embarrassment. It explains how he has no shame going up to Minho.

“Hey!” Jisung exclaims, sitting next to the other. Minho’s eyes widen for a second, not expecting to have this visiter, but he soon has to conceal a smile.

“Yes?” He asks, paying the younger barely any mind. Han didn’t really have any clue on what he was going to say, so he just repeats the greeting before asking the bartender for another drink.

“Are you sure you should be drinking more?” Minho questions, making Han cutely pout in anger.

“You’re not my boss.” He responds, then after taking a moment to think, “If you get Minyoung’s job, than you are, but not right now.” Minho hums, really the position isn’t exactly boss, but it certainly is higher than their current position so he doesn’t bother to make any correction.

“That’s right, if not, you will be my boss.” He finally turns to look at the younger accountant, expressionless,

“What a smart boy you are, hm?”

Blood floods to Jisung’s face and neck and he unconsciously let out a barely noticeable whimper. If he was in the right mind, he would have been insulted. It’s condescending, but Han’s intoxicated mind finds the words only make him feel good.

“I-I am?“ he stutters for a few seconds before finishing his drink.

“Yes, so smart.” Minho repeats, “So you know that’s your last drink.” Han puts the glass down and nods, because he is smart. He knows he’s had enough.

Minho looks around the bar and sees that most of their coworkers have already left. He should be going too. Standing from the stool, Han follows suit. The older man starts to walk towards the door, and the younger only stares until Minho turns around.

“Come on, Jisung.” He wasn’t expecting to be invited to follow, because Minho doesn’t like him, but he obeys and stumbles his way to him. “Damn it, be careful.” Minho says irritably when Jisung nearly fell face first on the concrete the moment they got outside.

“Sorry.” Minho rolls his eyes at his apology and pats his head, making the younger’s eyes widen significantly.

“Don’t apologize, just listen.” Minho wraps an arm around Jisung’s waist, supporting his weight, “I can smell the alcohol on you, how much did you drink?” He shakes his head when Han opens his mouth to answer, “Nevermind, let’s just get you home.” Jisung can only go along as Minho brings them to his car and helps the younger get inside.

“What’s your address, Jisung?” Minho asks, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t feel compelled in the slightest to do so. Going home means that Minho would leave, and he’s being so nice to him. He wants to stay with this Minho. Minho who is pretty and kind and caring. He repeats his name again when Han doesn’t answer.

“Don’t wanna go home.” He pouts as if he’s a child, and it’s oh so cute. Minho decides to amuse him.

“Then where would you like to go?” Han leans towards the elder, grabbing his arm before whispering out in the silence of the car,

“With Minho hyungie.”

Minho clenches his hand on the steering wheel. Jisung has never called him that before.

“Ah, but I can’t go home with you. I have cats to feed.” He tried to joke around with the younger, but he just repeats that he wants to be with his hyung, and as strong as Minho is, he is not a god. He can’t resist Jisung’s cute face any more than he can resists the cats.

That’s how they end up like this, with Minho guiding Jisung through the door and helping the younger take off his shoes.

“Go sit on the couch, I’ll get you some water. Do you feel sick?” Han shakes his head before diving onto the couch, stretched out just like one of Minho’s pets. Jisung hums to an unheard melody as he feels a small weight on is back, than another one. And another one. He feels a fur on his skin where his shirt rode up and on his bare neck, but he welcomes the warmth.

Coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand, Minho grins at the sight of Han, face down on the couch with Dori on his head, Sonnie between his legs and Donngie laying on his butt. No, Minho is not jealous of his cat.

“Aw, it’s rude to pray on the vulnerable.” He puts down the water on the coffee table and moves Dori off the younger’s head to stop him from suffocating,

“Up up.” He clicks his tongue and helps ease Jisung into a proper sitting position. Han whines as he does so, and Minho sits beside him before he lifts the cup of water to his lips. He pulls the cup away when it’s almost half empty.

“Why…” The drunk man starts, avoiding looking at Minho by petting the cat closest to him, “Why are you being- being so nice to me?” His eyes start to water. He can’t help but be emotional, because he’s confused. Minho doesn’t like being near him, but he’s being so doting. “Taking care of me?”The elder man tilts his head,

“Han.” The younger doesn’t look up, “I wasn’t going to leave you alone in the state you’re currently in.” Jisung brings a hand up to wipe his face, when he feels a tear fall.

“But you hate me.” He whispers, voice cracking. Minho frowns and his jaw clenched. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to relax before speaking in a soft tone.

“Jisung.” He’s hesitant, but ultimately brushes the younger’s jaw with his fingers, lightly turning his head to face him,“Jisungie.” Han’s breath hitches as he makes eye contact with the elder, “I don’t hate you. I can’t fathom the idea of hating you. You're simply… wonderful.”

Han’s his heart skips a beat and a fluttering feeling comes to his stomach. It’s almost similar to the familiar sensation of anxiety, but it’s different. Instead of rendering Han paralyzed, it pushes him forward. So he leans in and kisses Minho without leaving time for him to move away.

It’s embarrassing, how many times Han has imagined this moment. He truly wasted his time, because nothing in his dreams can compare to the real thing.

Han has his eyes closed, but Minho’s remain open. He allows the other to take control in his state of slight shock, but once he realizes what’s happening, he cups the sides of Han’s face and pushes him away. The younger man whimpers at the distance, and tries to kiss him again, but Minho keeps him still.

“You’re drunk.” Minho says softly, like he’s speaking to an animal, “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He didn’t think Han could get anymore red, he was wrong.

“Hey, let’s go to bed. You’re going to have such a hangover in the morning.” He brings Jisung to his bedroom, because he is a guest and not sleeping on the couch. Minho grabs a pair of sweatpants and a spare shirt.

“Can you change by yourself?” Han nods, fighting the part of his brain that wants Minho to stay. Han changes into the pants but leaves the shirt since he feels like his skin is boiling, and lays on his side on the bed. Eventually he dozed off, but wakes a little when he feels a warmth covering him. Something grazes his cheek and he has just enough sense to reach up and grab what turned out to be a hand.

“Stay.” Han requests with a tired voice, on the verge of falling back to sleep. He lets Minho pulls away, and after a minute, he feels a weight behind him. Jisung shuffles back so his back is against Minho’s chest. He lulls to sleep with the warmth spreading throughout his body and Minho’s arms wrapped around his waist, caging him in and keeping him safe.

When Han wakes up, the only thing he can feel is a pounding pain in his head, a reminder of how much he drank yesterday. After a few minutes, he opens his eyes and thankfully, the lights in the room are off and the curtains are closed. When he sits up fully, a wave of nausea hits him like a bus. Ignoring it, he looks around the room, finding it unfamiliar. On the beside table is a cup of water and two pills. After taking them, he slowly lays back down again, staring at the ceiling as he tries to piece together what the fuck happened last night. He feels the blanket against his bare chest, and quickly lifts up the blanket, sighing in relief when he sees his bottom half covered.

“No.” Jisung suddenly whispers, embarrassment filling him as he remember forcing Minho to take him to his home, spoon him and oh my god-

Han shoved his face in the pillow under his head and groans.

‘I kissed Minho, I’m so stupid, how could I do that?’

“Fuck my life.” A sudden scratching at the door interrupts Jisung’s spiral of mortifying self dread. He gets up, ignoring the prominent pain of his head and opens the door to be greeted by an orange cat.

He smiles, “Hey cutie.” He attempts to crouch down but ends up just falling on his butt. Petting the cat, he recognizes the familiar sound of a shower running. Han frowns, he can’t believe he kissed Minho without his consent. His coworker. Who is probably straight. Jisung doesn’t want to be confronted so he decided not to give Minho the chance.“Sorry, I have to go.” He gives the cat a finally pat on the head before he goes back in the room and changes into his clothes from yesterday before making his way out of the apartment. The only reminisce of him left is a sticky note with the words ‘thank you’ on the fridge.

Han is incredibly grateful that he had two days off after the night at the bar, because he didn’t have to see Minho. It’s cowardly, he knows, maybe even a little mean. He wishes could just have an adult conversation about what happened, but no, he’s going to avoid the elder until one of them quits or retires.

“Han can you bring these over to Minho?” Changbin asks as he puts a file on the younger’s desk. Han knows what he’s doing, his hyung has been pushing for more details on what happened after he left the bar last week. It’s clear to everyone in his department that he’s been avoiding Minho like the plague, so Changbin made it his personal goal to figure out why.

Han turns to Seungmin, “Can you give-“

“Nope.” He answers before Jisung can finish.

“Please-“

“Tell me what’s going on and I will.” Seungmin leans on his desk, lowering his voice, “Did he do anything to you?”

“No no.” he protests before explaining , “He brought me to his home, but we didn’t do… anything.”

“What did you do between that pause in your sentence?” Changbin asks and Jisung whispers, shamefully,

“I kissed him.” Silence overtakes the three for a second, before the eldest turns towards Seungmin.

“Called it.” The younger rolls his eyes, as Jisung gapes at them, “Hannie, it’s so obvious that he likes you.”

“He didn’t kiss me back.”

“Yeah, cause you were drunk.” Seungmin says it like it’s obvious, which it is.

“Go over and kiss him right now, completely sober and aware, he’d love it.”

“Ew.” The youngest comments, “Wait until I’m gone.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” Han insists, “Just forget it.” Both his friends oblige, and stop asking questions.

“Hyung.” Seungmin’s voice grabs his attention, “Can I ask you to do me a favour.” He sighs,

“Sure.”

“Can you take one of my clients, just for today?” Han looks curiously at the younger.

“Why?” Seungmin smiles softly,

“It’s Jeongin’s birthday today. I was hoping to get home early and surprise him.”

“Aww.” Jisung playfully clutches his chest, “So sweet. Of course I will.”

“Really?” Seungmin perks up and Han laughs.

“Yeah really. Go home loverboy.”

While Seungmin is about to leave, he bumped into Changbin, who was totally not listening in on their conversation.

“When is Jeongin’s real birthday?”

“Not till February.”

“Ah.” Changbin nods before holding up the file in his hand, “I’m giving this to Minho. Good plan, by the way.”

“If I have to deal with their sexual tension for any longer I am going to quit.”

“Did you not consider that them getting together could make them worse.”

“… damn it.”

Han huffs as he finally finished up with Seungmin’s work. It was easy, but took quite a bit of time. So now, everyone in the office has left.

Well, everyone besides Minho.

As awkward as being alone with him is for Jisung, he is still grateful for the man’s presence, otherwise he would have to lock up the building. He puts away his stuff before getting up, preparing to leave. As he walked pass Minho’s desk, he feels a hand grab his elbow.

“Han.” Minho’s cold voice rings loud in the empty room.

“What?” Han squeaks as Minho stands.

“What are you-“ he can’t finish his sentence, as Minho grabs his collar, pushes the younger man to him and harshly kissed him. Han’s hands hover in the air as he tries to process what’s happening. Minho’s hands move to cup the back of his head and rest on his lower back. Jisung grasps the front of Minho’s shirt and kisses him back. He moves Jisung so he’s leaning on his desk, the wood digging into Han’s thighs. Finally, Han pushes Minho away, panting as he wipes his mouth of saliva. They stare at each other in silence, as if they aren’t at work and have all the time in the world.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Minho whispers in the quiet room, “I wanted to talk to you properly, but you never gave me the chance. So allow me to do so now.” Minho takes a deep breath in, “You remember me bringing you to my place when you were drunk, right?” Han nods hesitantly, “and you remember what happened?”

“Mostly.” Han mumbles, already knowing where the conversation was leading to, “I’m sorry I left. And for avoiding you, I just-“ he swallows down his anxiety before saying, “I thought you were going to be mad at me.” Smiling softly, Minho cups his face and makes him look at him,

“Clearly you thought wrong.”

“Yeah.” Minho runs his thumb over Han’s lips.

“Why did you think I hated you?” The question has been bugging him all week.

“Oh, real-really I was being dramatic.” Han quickly tries to explain, “It just seemed like you were, I don’t know, uncomfortable around me? Like you were never relaxed with me around.”

“Ah.” Minho blushes and brings his hand to hold Jisung’s, “I’m sorry that’s the impression I gave, but you are all wrong.”

The younger tilts his head cutely, “What do you mean?” Minho sighs, leaning his head back before looking at Han.

“I really like you, Jisungie.” He plants his hands on the desk, caging him in, “I like your voice. Your smile. Your soft face. I love the little pout you do. Just like the one you have now- really everything about you gets me going.” He leans closer, making the two only inches away from each other,

“So you don’t understand how difficult it is for me to refrain from kissing you, from getting closer and closer because I want to be in your space all the time. I didn’t want to be too forward and risk your comfort.” Oddly enough, the first thing that comes to Han’s mind is cursing out Seungmin for being right about Minho’s feelings.

“I’m comfortable with you.” Jisung blurts out, “You can… I want you to kiss me. Do whatever you want.” Minho’s eyes darken and he kisses a spot under Jisung’s ear,

“What I want to do is bend you over this desk.” He kisses Han’s lips, muffling a whimper, “Turn my smart boy into a dumb little mess.” Jisung shivers, wrapping his arms around Minho’s shoulders.

Minho lifts Jisung onto the desk, kissing him while rubbing his sides, “Would you like that?”

Han’s breath hitched, and he tries to remain somewhat intact. Minho wants him. And he wants Minho too. So bad.

“I would.” Is all he can rasp out as Minho kisses his neck.

“Hm?”

“I want you.” Jisung says louder, breathing in shakily, “I want hyung. Now.” He moans as Minho bites his neck, “But- Minho.” Jisung stutters, “What if someone comes in?” In most settings this question would seem stupid, since it’s around ten at night and nobody is currently in office other than them. In this case, it’s actually a possibility. How their job works is that they can come in at any time, as long as they work a full shift. So they have a few coworkers who like to come in at odd hours.

“Alright.” Minho lifts the younger with a strong grip on his thighs and walks them to an office room, all while placing small kisses on Jisung’s face.

“Open the door baby.” Han nods and reaches behind himself to open the door. Minho kicks it closed behind him before quickly locking it.

The desk has nothing on it, since the office has been unused for a few weeks, so Minho quickly lays Jisung down on the smooth surface. He kisses the younger harshly on his lips, just for a few seconds, before moving to kiss his neck and bite his collar bones. As he relishes the sounds of Jisung’s whimpers, he unbuttons his polo shirt, exposing more skin for him to explore.

“Hyung.” Han moans as Minho pinches his nipples and sucks his chest, leaving marks as he goes along. When Minho reaches the waist band of his pants, he is quick to push them off, along with his shoes and boxers. This leaves Han naked besides the unbuttoned shirt. Minho grabs his thighs and pulls him forward do his legs are hanging off the desk. The elder drops to his knees and starts to kiss up Jisung’s thighs, traveling further until he reaches his hole. Han chokes a sob as Minho dips his tongue inside him.

“Min- Minho I-“ He never finishes what he was about to say, he’s broken down to a moaning mess the second the elder moves and licks along his tip. He jerks his hips, and Minho grabs his waist to keep him still. The action only makes him harder as he realizes how fucking small Jisung is.

“You’re precious.” He coos before placing a sweet kiss on his hole, “Absolutely darling.”

Minho stands up and presses three of his fingers against Jisung’s lips, tapping a few times. The younger instantly opens his mouth and allows Minho to push his fingers in.

“Baby.” Minho groans as Jisung grabbed his wrist to bring him closer, “Look at you. What a good boy.” He shivers from the feeling of Han’s tongue. After a few moments, Minho pulls his hand away and wastes no time to kneel back down and put one finger into Jisung’s hole. The younger cries out and tightens around Minho instantly.

“Hyung!” Minho does not relent and adds another, stretching him out. With that he adds his tongue, dipping inside beside his fingers. Minho is giving him so much, it’s breaking him down, but all Han can think about is the fact he wants more. Jisung reaches up to him and grabs his shoulders, trying to push him away. Minho obliges and moves to look at the younger, pecking Han’s bright pink lips multiple times. “Want you Minho.” Jisung mumbles against his lips, trying to control his own breathing, “Want you so bad.”

Now, Minho considers himself a patient man, but he’s still a man. So how could he ever deny the sweet thing below him. He stands up straight and removes his fingers from Jisung before helping him off the desk. Practically manhandling him, Minho manoeuvres him so he’s facing the desk before placing a hand in between Jisung’s shoulder blades and pushing him down so his chest meets the desk. Kissing up Han’s spine, Minho unzips his pants and presses against Jisung, letting out a moan when he feels his hot skin on his. “Jisung, honey.” Minho starts, kissing Han’s shoulders, “You know I could never hate you.” “Yeah.” He pants, whining slightly. “Good.” The elder grabs harshly onto Han’s hips, fingers digging into his tan skin. He kisses the younger’s ear before whispering,

“Cause I’m gonna fuck you like I hate you.”

With a quick, strong thrust of his hips, he pushes himself into Jisung, immediately moaning when he tightens around him. “Minho! Oh-“ Han shouts. By now, both of them have completely forgotten where they are, only focused on each other. Breathing heavily, Minho rests his head on Han’s back, nuzzling the material of his shirt. Jisung whimpers and tries to grab the man behind him as he starts to move in and out of Jisung’s tight hole, he’s barely has any time to adjust,

“Please- Please please hyungie-“ he begs like it’s the only thing he knows, despite being highly educated. It’s music for Minho, “Please.” He mocks the younger with a whiny voice, “Please what?” He grabs his hair with one hand and uses it to keep his head pinned on the desk. He shifts a bit, using his grip on Jisung to move harder, hitting right on that special spot inside him.

“Fuck!” He sobs. The wood of the desk beneath him is cold against his burning skin, “Minho Minho-“ The elder smiles kissing the boy’s neck. “Yes? What is it?” Jisung doesn’t respond, he can’t find the words to give even the most simplest answer. He can’t help it, Minho is moving erratically, “Hey, where’s my smart boy gone to?” Minho smirks with a sadistic glint to it, and wraps his arms around Han’s waist and chest pulls him up so he’s standing. Jisung groans from the movement, and Minho is still rocking inside of him. “Shit.” His head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed. “Did I fuck you stupid already? You’re even drooling baby.” Keeping one hand firmly on Jisung’s chest to keep him standing, Minho wipes the saliva that escaped his mouth with his thumb. He runs his thumb over Han’s lips before moving his head to kiss him. He holds the younger’s jaw and licks into his mouth, swallowing his moans. When Minho pulls away, Jisung isn’t even given the chance to complain since Minho is bending him over the desk again, “I’m gonna break you baby.” Minho tells the younger between moans, “Gonna take you apart right here- don’t worry I’ll- I’ll love you right when I take you home. Real slow and sweet.” He moves harder, keeping Jisung pinned down with a hand on the nape of his neck as his other reaches in front of the younger to fist him, making him keen.

“Come- am gonna- Minho comming-“

It only takes a few jerks of his wrist to make Han come over his stomach, moaning out Minho’s name as he jerks against the desk and Minho’s hand. He whimpers and whines when Minho somewhat intentionally overstimulates him as he keeps moving for a few more seconds. When he feels as if he’s about to burst, Minho pulls out of Jisung. He wraps his hand around himself and quickly comes with a soft moan.

Panting, Minho runs his hand through Han’s hair a few times before putting his pants back on properly and helping Jisung stand up. With one hand, he grabs a packet of tissues from his pockets and uses a few to wipe Jisung clean, shushing his whimpers. “Darling boy.” Minho coos in his ear, turning Han around and buttoning his shirt for him. Jisung lifts his arms and wraps them around Minho’s shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. The elder responds quickly, kissing Jisung sweetly as he rubs his sides. When Han pulls away, Minho kisses his cheeks, a few of the marks he left on his neck, and ends with a kiss to Jisung’s temple, “Would this be a good time to ask you out?” Han snorts, resting his head on Minho’s shoulder, “I’d love to.”

Minho walks into an office and leans back against the wall, letting out a short whistle. “Love what you done with the place.” The man at the desk laughs, looking around himself, “Oh yes, thanks to you hyung.” Han responds as he moves a succulent to a different corner on the desk, a plant that Minho got him, “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to work.” He playfully glares at the other, “I blame you.” “Why?” Minho walks over to the desk, standing across from Han, “Bringing up memories, boss?” Jisung shivers, “Don’t call me that.” He says, ignoring the image in his head of Minho fucking him over the desk that is now his, “Are we going?” “Yeah. Can’t keep Chan waiting.”

The two make their way to Chan’s office, neither bothering to knock since he’s been expecting them. Chan looks up from his computer and smiles when he sees the two, “Didn’t assault anyone, right Minho?” The man in question rolls his eyes at Chan as him and Jisung sit on the chairs across from Chan on the desk.

“Hi Chan hyung.” Chan smiles softly at the younger, he’s always had a soft spot for him, “Jisung. Now seriously, what brings you two here?” Han looks down in his lap, smiling when Minho grabs one of his hand’s and interlocks their fingers. Minho brings their hands up and places a quick kiss on the back of Jisung’s hand.

“Jisung and I are in a relationship.” Minho states bluntly to the head of HR, “We just came to notify you.” Chan nearly rolls his eyes and Minho’s formalness, but he instead laughs softly.

“Congrats guys. You two are good together.” He says, genuinely happy the two have gotten together, “You guys can go though, I just quickly have to put it on file.” Both Han and Minho thank the older man for his time and leave.

Chan pulls out a file from his filing cabinet. “Finally.” He mumbles as he puts the already filled out form on his desk, “It was collecting dust.”

46 notes · View notes

jluver · 8 months

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ᰔᩚ𓂃 .. 𝑰 𝑮𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆 𝑰 𝑮𝒐𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒂 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

s: just some boyfriend!jay thoughts 💭 ╱ g: established relationship. tooth rotting fluff. itty bitty bit of angst if you squint ╱ p: bf!jay x fem!reader

ᵕ̈ ❥ boyfriend!jay who knows you so well he can tell something is wrong with you just by the simplest change on your facial expression;

“you ‘kay, darling?” he asked you as soon as he saw your face; your lips pouting involuntarily, and that frown on your eyebrows could only mean one thing. his question made the curve of your lips bend down even more; you shook your head ‘no’. jay immediately engulfed you in a tight hug, your head hidden in his chest. “oh, darling, tell me what it is, and i’m gonna make it all better to you.”

ᵕ̈ ❥ boyfriend!jay who knows you so well, you don’t even have to tell him what is wrong for him to know;

“it’s that… thing, again, isn’t it?” he didn’t even needed to wait for your answer to know that he is right. you looked up at him in awe, it never failed to amaze you how well jay knows you; how well he knows your heart. you may not be the openest book there is, but jay had read you enough times to be able to recite every single word from memory. not even the tiniest detail goes unnoticed by him. “you’re so obsessed. it’s like you have a crush on me or something..” you joked one time. “and can you blame me?!” he reasoned, “like it’s my fault you make every other human being on this planet sound boring compared to you!”

ᵕ̈ ❥ boyfriend!jay who knows you so well you can literally shut off your brain every time you are together, because he’ll do all the thinking for you;

you heard your name be called, immediately bringing your attention back to the present moment. looking to your left you notice one of jay’s friend standing there, “you want some beer?” he offered politely. you just looked at the boy sitting right next to you with a hand on your waist, waiting for him to answer the question. “she doesn’t drink, but thank you, heeseung” jay explained. soon his friend left, and it was just the two of you again. “i love you” you gave him a peck on the lips. “i love you too, babe. more than anything.”

ᵕ̈ ❥ boyfriend!jay who would do anything to make sure his girl is okay, but who also doesn’t hold back when he needs to put some sense into that stubborn brain of yours;

“that wasn’t nice.” “what?!” “you didn’t need to be so passive aggressive with the waitress, she’s just doing her job.” you took a deep breath, rolling your eyes in annoyance, “you’re never on my side, y’know that? i’m always the monster to you! why are you still with me if i’m such a bad person?” jay didn’t say anything, he knew that trying to argue with you when you’re hungry is a lost battle. you two ate your meals in silence, with each bite of your food the frown plastered on your face disappeared bit by bit. with your stomach full it didn’t take long for you to come back for your senses, “seongie…?” you called for him, your voice proportionally smaller than the shame you felt. he didn’t even looked at you, eyes focused on the road. “i’m sorry babe, i really am. it’s just… i was hungry and- well, it doesn’t matter. i am wrong, you do so much for me, it was completely unfair of me to snap at you like that…”

ᵕ̈ ❥ boyfriend!jay to whom it doesn’t matter how bad you mess up, he can never be mad at you for too long. he loves you too much for that;

“oh my god! y/n? is it you?! oh thank god you’re back! thought that demon was gonna rip my head off!” you rolled your eyes, failing miserably to convey annoyance. “you’re the worst.” “well, that makes two of us then.” he placed his free hand on your knee, squeezing it gently; you placed your hand over his and brought it to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles, “i appreciate your apology, darling. i also should’ve known better than to try to be reasonable with you before lunch, it won’t happen anymore. pinky promise.” he showed you his pinky, and you gave it a playful slap, making the both of you laugh.

ᵕ̈ ❥ in summary, boyfriend!jay is just the best type of boyfriend — he is the standard. he’ll always be there for you, for good or for worse, and he knows you’ll always be there for him too. i believe in bf!jay supremacy ‼️

#bringing it back from my older account. but making it ablut jay this time #<- about*#jay fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #enhypen headcanons #jay headcanons #˖ ࣪ ˒ ‎♡⃕ dalla writes: sfw #☆ ⏱️ 𖥻 ＜꒱ from the time machine .ᐟ

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footygirl114 · 2 years

Text

Realeza (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

This is a result of a lovely anon sending me in an amazing prompt, that I took and ran with it, hope it was what you wanted! Sorry for the wait, but some of this is Definitely based on real life for me :)

Being the Heir to the throne of Spain should be a full time job, but as someone who didn’t fit into the royal mould you tended to spend it on the more chaotic side. You lived your life as authentic to yourself as you could be, and it won you points with the public but not your family who believed you were a disgrace to the name.

They would never publicly denounce you but you knew from the disappointing words and looks you got from your parents spoke enough for you. The only time you liked being a part of the royal family was when you were able to go to events like this one, supporting women’s rights and female leaders in Spain.

They had invited you and your little sister, who was the perfect little royal, but would never be next in line unless you croaked. Watching her work the room like you should be doing had you rolling your eyes, you sat in your assigned seat at the empty table watching her. When you felt someone sit in the seat beside you, you turned and looked at her and immediately were struck by her beauty.

When she turned to look at you, it clicked in your head who she was and you immediately said to her “Well if it isn’t the favourite La Reina.”

She looks up from where she was settling her stuff and meets your eyes and says “Whoa, I am so sorry, should I have curtsied before sitting?”

Her words immediately draws a laugh from you and you tell her “Oh you can bow for me anytime”seeing her blush at your words you smile and tell her “I’m Y/N”

“Alexia” she says and offers you her hand.

You laugh slightly and say “don’t you know you cant shake the hand of a royal?”

She immediately pulls back her hand and says “sorry”

Laughing you reach out for her hand and lean in to her ear and say quietly “I’m kidding, I would love to hold your hand” seeing her blush at your words you lean back and tell her “you are cute when you blush”

She looks up at you smiling and says “you know normally I am not this flustered, but talking to the real la reina has me all tangled.”

“Well I for one am very happy to give you my title, I am a big fan you know” you tell her. Realising you are also still holding her hadn’t you draw your hand back and run your fingers along her palm before separating them.

You can feel sparks running up your arm and you think about how happy you are you showed up to this event. When you look back up at her you can see the blush on her cheeks and you know she felt the sparks too. You realise she’s talking and you tune back into her as she asks “I am a fan of yours too, I love how authentic you are”

“Being someone else is overrated” you shrug and then look around and quietly tell her “honestly, if it helps one young person live there life authentically then I will do it over and over.”

You meet her eyes as you finish saying that and can see something flash in the back of her eyes and you know you want to get to know her and find out what that is. “I admire that Y/N, I always have” she tells you.

Before you can say anything else to her an announcement is made for everyone to take their seats and you realise how close you and Alexia had gotten and you pull back in time before your sister joins the table and says anything to you about it. You sit through the speeches and awards thinking about the woman beside you.

When everything starts to wrap up you bide your time until you are able to talk to her again, but at the end of the speeches you and your sister are invited on stage to present a cheque to the Women’s centre. When you are finished mingling and taking pictures you turn towards your seat and Alexia is gone.

Frantically you look around and see her leaving, you meet her eyes from across the room and she give you a small smile and a wave. You cant help but smile and wink back at her, seeing the blush spread on her cheeks you know this will not be the last time you see her that is one thing you are sure of.

The next night you are lying in your bed scrolling your phone when you venture on instagram, you tend to avoid all social media but something drew you to open your private account. You didn’t have access to the royal one that was run by a social media team, but you had a private one that you controlled.

When you log in to that one, the first thing you notice is a picture of the Barcelona women promoting the upcoming game at Camp Nou. You know you are going to the game with the family and sitting in the royal box. The game isn’t what catches your eye, but the picture of the captain. Realising she is tagged in the picture you immediately go to her profile and follow her.

Deciding that you will need to be upfront with her you send her a private message.

Authenticallyroyal (Sent 20:25): How did I not know that the real la reina would leave a party without saying goodbye to the cute royal she was vibing with?

Laughing at how funny you think you are you set your phone down and tune back into the documentary you were watching. Lost in the movie you don’t realise your phone has gone off until an hour later when the movie ends.

Alexiaputellas (Sent 20:59): One I am not the real la reina, that is you. Two I definitely never called you cute. Three were we vibing or was I making a fool of myself?

Authenticallyroyal (Sent 21:43): You will always be the people’s la reina, I am cute you cannot deny that and I think you were cute blushing under my praise superstar.

Alexiaputellas (Sent 21:45): Kinda hate that they call me that, but somehow I like when you do. Fine, I will admit it you are cute, and I am blushing right now.

Authenticallyroyal (Sent 21:48): oh you like when I call you la reina? I will have to remember that. I like that you blushing for me superstar.

Alexiaputellas (Sent 21:55): I shouldn’t have told you that, either of those things. I am going to sleep now and try to forget I told you. I also wouldn’t hate it if you message me again.

Smiling at your phone you love that she is clearly as affected by you as you are by her. You cant wait to talk to her again and see where this might go.

Wearing an Alexia Barcelona jersey you follow your family into the box that the team has set aside for the royal family. You got told off already by your dad and his advisor about wearing a jersey and picking a team. Apparently you are supposed to be neutral being apart of the royal family of Spain, but honestly you didn’t care. You wanted to support your home town team plus you hoped it would get a reaction from the captain.

Settling into your seat your eyes immediately lock on the captain warming up in front of you by taking shots on net. She misses the net and when the ball sails over the crossbar her eyes track it and her eyes land on you in the stands.

You immediately smile at her and you can see a small smile on her face as your eyes remain locked. When you know you have her full attention you turn around and show her the back of your jersey and when you meet her eyes again you see a full blown smile on her face.

It takes a teammate of hers hitting her in the back with a ball for her to turn back to warm ups. You spend the rest of the warm up meeting her eyes every time she looks up at you and you give her back a smirk or a wink and you know you are under her skin.

Something you did clearly got to her as she comes out flying and has a hat trick in the first half, and she celebrates each goal in front of you and meets your eyes. This just gives you the confirmation you need that she is as affected by you as you are by her.

The following week you are invited to a fundraiser in support of underprivileged youth in the city. It was being hosted at the city community centre and the big draw was players from both Barcelona teams there to participate in a youth football tournament. You didn’t know which of the players were invited but you were definitely hoping Alexia would be one of them.

Walking up to the event grounds with your PR person and the families social media officer you knew that if she was there you we're going to have to be subtle as the spotlight would be on you. This was the major downside of being who you were, you could very rarely go anywhere you wanted to without it being blasted on social media and in the news.

An hour into the event you had made eye contact with her no less than a dozen times but you were busy networking and posing for the social media team and she was playing football. You had finally snuck away from the camera and were sat on a bench with a juice box enjoying the sun when you felt someone sit beside you.

Turning you realise it’s Alexia, and you smile thinking about how she seeked you out in the midst of the chaos. You wait and let her be the one to break the silence and it works when she says “so you came to my game after all.”

“Of course, needed to see the better queen live. Plus I wanted to see you superstar” you tell her with a small smile.

You can see her blush out of the corner of your eye and push her hair behind her ear as she says “I am glad you came to that one, It was a decent game”

You twist so you are facing her more when you say “a first half hat trick is only a decent game?”

“Yeah, had more chances but someone distracted me” she tells you.

You cant help but smile and you have to stop your self from reaching out and grabbing her hand knowing there is cameras everywhere. You quietly ask her “am I affecting you as much as you are affecting me?”

Noting her blush and her hands curling around the bench on either side of her legs, you know the answer before she says “Yes you are.”

“will you go out with me?” you boldy ask her, still quietly but you move your hand beside her and rub your pinky on hers slightly.

She makes the final move and tangles your pinky fingers as she says “I would really like that.”

Smiling you tell her “I will message you, but I would like to see you as soon as your free?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is perfect Alexia, I can cook for you.” you tell her and continue with “I hope you realise I want to see the blush on your cheeks in person all the time”

She laughs and says “you keep saying things like that and you will”

Before you can say anything else your PR agent finds you and demands you attention back to the event at hand. Reluctantly you leave Alexia, but you leave knowing that you will be seeing her tomorrow.

The following night you are stressed out, Alexia is supposed to be at your place within the hour, and you have not prepared for this. You love to cook, but you have never actually cooked for anyone before. You tended to be a lone wolf spending time on your own in solitary, no one other than you mother has ever actually been to your apartment before.

What you were even thinking inviting her over, you do not know. The media may portray you as a badass leather jacket wearing royal, but you were really a hopeless gay mess when it came to pretty women. Knowing that you were having the best woman’s football player over to your apartment has you shaking in your boots.

You were in the midst of vacuuming your apartment for the third time when you heard the knock on the door. Panicking you shoved the vacuum into your bedroom and shut the door, pausing to check out your hair in the mirror on the way to the front door. Pausing with your hand on the doorknob you take a deep breath and remind your self to just be your self.

Opening door with a “Hola la reina” you are immediately frozen as you take her in. The tight jeans, the crop top, the leather jacket and the kicks, you aren’t sure if you will recover form this look on her. “Holy Alexia, are you trying to kill me?” you ask her with a wink.

She blushes under your praise and she steps into your apartment closer to you where she grabs the lapels on your flannel shirt you had left open and she says “well we’re both going down together”

“promise?” you ask with another wink and you press a kiss to her cheek.

She smiles through the blush creeping up her cheeks and steps away as she says “It smells delicious in here”

Shaking your head you close the door and gesture for her to follow you down the hall as you ask her “I hope you eat meat?”

“Yes I do, holy Y/N this place is amazing” she immediately says as she steps into your open concept living room/kitchen with massive windows over looking the beach. This place was your pride and joy, you took care in renovating and remodelling it to exactly how you wanted it.

Smiling at her you say “thank you Ale, it’s my sanctuary. You are actual the first person other than my mother who I have invited here” finishing by turning back to the stove to stir your sauce.

You hear her move around behind you and it startles you slightly when you feel her hand on your forearm stopping your stirring movement. Turning towards her beside you she reaches out and tucks your hair behind your ear as she says “Thank you for letting me into your space then.”

Smiling softly at her you reach out and grab her other hand and pull her into you, staring deep into her eyes, you see hers dip to your lips. She leans forward to close the gap between you and as you are about to connect the timer for your pasta goes off and you both jump back.

Turning you remove the lid off your pasta turn the burner off and move to drain the water as you look to her you say “I never knew you were someone who would go for dessert before dinner”

As you watch her smile and shake her head you move to the sink to strain the water from the pot as she moves and sits on a bar stool to watch you work on dinner. She continues to ask you questions while your prepping food about your apartment and your life. In turn you learn bits about her teammates and her struggles with balance between events and her training. You learn you both have the same ideas when it comes to keeping things private and out of the public eye.

The conversation spills over dinner and you cant help but feel like you are just falling deeper and deeper into the web of the Spanish superstar. You both talk about your struggles with meeting people and connecting with people cause most only want you for one thing; fame. You talk with her about how you wish you were more normal and were able to go out and do things, but you also talk about how you love having the power to help with worthy causes.

You both tackle cleaning the kitchen together and seeing her elbow deep in soap suds in your sink makes you want to see her in your kitchen a lot more. It’s almost like you can see into the future of the two of you spending lots of time in your Kitchen hidden away from the world.

When the kitchen is clean she turns to you as she leans back on the counter and says “I should go, I have an early training session in the morning.”

Stepping closer to her you box her in on your counter, placing your hands on either side of her hips as you ask “are you sure I cant tempt you stay later?”

Placing her hands on your upper arms as you lean closer to her she says “as tempting as you are, I think its better for me to go home and sleep”

Pouting at her you ask “okay I can agree there, you definitely won’t be getting any sleep tonight if you stay here” finishing with a wink.

Immediately you see her cheeks flush with a blush and what she says next surprises you “Maybe, but I doubt you could keep up.”

Staring at her with an open mouth you cant believe this blushing women whipped out that line. “Well superstar I guess we will never know” you tell her and lean into her ear to whisper “all I have to do is call you la reina and you’ll be on your knees” pressing a kiss under her ear you spin away and move to grab her coat.

When you turn back to her she is still in the same spot, her cheeks a deep shade of red and you cant help but smile at how easy it is to have her flustered. When she finally looks up at you she blushes a deeper shade of red and says “that wasn’t nice”

You smile and tell her “I have never claimed to be nice”

Smiling at you with her still blushing cheeks she steps closer to you grabs her coat from your hands and says “I guess this is where I tell you to call me?”

“the confidence is cute, but the blushing gives you away superstar” you tell her. She starts walking backwards towards the door and you follow her and continue with “I will definitely be calling you though”

Hand on the door she opens it and before she leaves she turns and says under her breath “fuck it” and she steps forwards and closes the distance between you and presses her lips hard to yours.

It takes you a moment but you sink into it and place your hands on her hips and go to deepen the kiss. Before you can she pulls back with a small smile and says “call me” and leaves through your door with a wink back over her shoulder.

Standing there you shake your head at her and you place your fingers on your lips with a smile. You can just feel that she is someone what you will not want to let go of.

As the next two weeks go by you spend any available free time you have on the phone with Alexia. You both have crazy schedules and demands on you so you haven’t been able to see her other than at events you both attended together, but separately. When you see her across a crowd you have to force yourself not to move to her, you wish you could taste her again, feel her body against yours.

The next night when you know you both are free you cant help but calling her as soon as she is done with training. She has taken to texting you as soon as she is off the field, and when you get the text you are so excited you cant help but call her immediately.

She answers with a “Hola this is a surprise”

“I hope you don’t have plans tonight superstar” you tell her.

“What if I tell you I do?” she sasses back to you.

Laughing you tell her “well thats up to you, but just so you know whether you cancel them or not. I will be spending the night in my bed, naked.”

Hearing her deep intake of breath you know you have her when she says “Not nice.”

“Oh Ale, I can tell you right now, I will be very nice to you tonight if you come over” you tell her.

Before she can answer your teasing you can hear in the background “who are you talking to Ale! You are bright red”

“Do I have you blushing superstar?” you ask her through the phone and you can hear the intake of her breath again.

“Alexia, who are you talking to that can make you blush like a tomato?” you hear a voice in the background.

“Alexia do you have a girlfriend?” another voice asks.

“am I your girlfriend Ale?” you ask her down the phone.

Hearing the muffled voices in the background fade, you think she has covered the mouthpiece and you wait a moment before the line goes dead. You laugh to your self and think about how worked up you got her and you really hope she shows up later tonight.

Before you get any further a text comes through from her saying “I will be there in an hour, you better make sure your extra nice to me after dealing with this lot” Smiling at your phone you feel the excitement settle in and you cannot wait for the next hour to go by so you can see her again.

She comes over that night and you make good on your promise to be extra nice to her. Its after midnight when you both are sitting in your kitchen waiting for the frozen pizza to cook. Your in her training shorts she came over from training in and a tank top, and she stole your favourite flannel. She’s sitting on the counter watching you putter around the kitchen, getting plates and cups down and opening a bottle of wine.

Turning you hand her a glass of wine, and you step up to her on the counter and settle between her legs. Placing one hand on her bare thigh you ask her “so was I nice enough to you tonight for you to come back?”

She throws her head back in a laugh and says “you were very nice”

Smiling you take a sip of wine and feel her hand reach up and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you ask her shyly “So did you hear the question I asked before you hung up on me today?”

Nodding she says “it wasn’t me, they were trying to get to my phone. But yes I did hear the question”

“and?”

She smiles and says “well I did tell my team you were my girlfriend when they asked, so unless you want to make me a liar?”

Leaning in you press your lips to hers and immediately you feel her deepen the kiss. You place your wine glass down, and you grab her glass and place hers on the counter so you can pull her hips flush to yours. She wraps her arms around your shoulders and pulls you closer as her stomach growls. You both pull back laughing and you say “I guess we should feed my girlfriend first”

Smiling wide she says “yes you should, also something I need to ask you now”

“Oh yeah? I will try anything with you as long as we have a safe word in place superstar” you tell her with a wink.

She pushes your shoulder with a laugh and says “good to know, but I want you to come meet my team.”

Feeling the nervous settle in the bottom of your stomach you ask her “are you sure you want me to?”

She smiles and reaches to tangle both her hands with yours as she says “Of course I do. If you haven’t noticed I am kind of very into you, and I am hoping that you are too?”

“I am too Ale, I am kinda very into you too” you tell her with a small smile.

She pulls you closer and says “Perfect, then I want you to meet my team, they are my family.”

“Okay, but please don’t expect to meet my anytime soon. I do not want to get into it, but we’re not as close as the media makes us seem” you tell her.

Wrapping you into a hug after hearing your voice break, she squeezes you and says “I want to know every little thing about you beautiful, whenever you are ready to talk I am here. But for now I think our dinner is burning”

Laughing as you pull back you turn to the oven and tell her “I would love to meet my girlfriends teammates, but first I think I need to feed the beast”

Hearing her laugh becomes your favourite sound and you know you want to continue to make her laugh.

The next week you spend almost every night with Alexia in your bed, your place being more private works for both of you, plus she confessed she was kind of in love with your view. When the team has a rare Friday night game, the team plans a party for the Saturday night.

You and Alexia have both laughed all week when she has been bombarded by her teammates to tell them who she is dating. Alexia had told you that they wouldn’t believe it if she told them, so she’d rather have you show up and be the proof. Instead it has become a game of who can guess who she is dating, and the options are amusing.

You had an afternoon event to attend to on the Saturday, so you told Alexia you would meet her at her party. The team decided to throw the party, but they were using Alexia’s backyard for it. Getting held up at your event, you were amused by the play by play Alexia was sending you about the team betting whether you existed and if you’d show up.

When you finally got free you had your driver drop you off at her place, and she had told you to come around the side of the house when you got there. Walking up to the side gate you can hear the music and the laughter coming from the girls in the backyard. Before you open the door you can hear your girlfriends voice telling her teammates “I promise you she is real, and will be here soon”

Almost like it was planned you open the gate and walk in at the end of her sentence and immediately feel all eyes on you. You only have eyes for Alexia as she is sitting on a stool at the table she has in her back yard, she smiles at you and walk towards her when you hear someone say “is that the royal princess?”

You smile and step up to Alexia and place one hand on her lower back as you lean down and press a quick kiss to her lips, you pull back and whisper “hi superstar.”

She whines when you pull back and reaches up to place a hand behind your neck and pulls you down into a deeper kiss. She pulls back after a moment and says “thanks for coming.”

Before you can say anything else you hear from behind you “Hold on stop with this PDA, we need an explanation here”

You smile and pull back from Alexia and immediately you see all eyes on the two of you. Alexia stays seated as you stand beside her with your arm around her shoulders and hers goes to wrap around your hips. “So everyone this is Y/N, my girlfriend”

“Holy shit your banging the princess?” Mapi shouts out, and you can feel Alexia tense beside you at this and you know you need to step in.

“yes I am the princess, and yes we are dating, but please do not think thats all I am. I am more than my title.” you tell them all. Feeling Alexia squeeze your hips, you know it was the right thing to do with the team.

Especially when one of them steps forward and offers you her hand and says “sorry about them, I’m Patri”

You can feel the snort of Alexia beside you when you say “Did you know you cant shake hands with a royal.”

Immediately the hand is pulled back and the poor girl turns bright red and the rest of the team laughs behind her. “I did the same thing when I met her if it helps Pats” Alexia tells her with a laugh.

The rest of the team starts talking amongst them selves again when the laughter dies down and you know it was the right thing to do to break the ice. A couple of the girls come up to you and Alexia and she introduces you to them “Y/N this is Mapi, Patri and Leila. Gals this is my girlfriend Y/N”

They all say their respective greetings when Leila asks “now how did our reina meet the real reina?”

“wait wait wait” Mapi starts and all eyes turn to her when she says “holy shit Alexia. If you guys get married you will literally become a royal and be a real la reina.”

Hearing the laughter at Mapi’s outburst, you meet Alexia’s eyes and lean in to press a kiss to her temple. It makes you think of the future though and hoe much you wouldn’t hate for her to become yours.

#woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #Alexia Putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #espwnt x reader

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wandasfifthwife · 12 days

Text

matter of importance

— eg!rarity x reader

tw || no specific gender mentioned for reader but I imagined fem while writing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, first argument, not proofread

summary || rarity’s been asked to design a fashion line for a designer you know she’s been raving about since forever. after succeeding, she’s landed a full-time job as their designer. in doing so, she’s left you behind.

༺mlp m.list༻

She’s chasing after her dreams—why would you wish to stop her from doing so. It’s been an incredibly long journey, you know as she’s been using you as a model for her clothes. That was until she got an offer, the one that’s now lead her down a path of success; but lately you’ve been afraid that her vision for a successful future is one without you.

You might’ve not enjoyed the feeling of her needle poking you from time to time when you were her model, but you enjoyed the time spent with her. Now she has real models to work with, important measurements to take. It was all done without you. Of course you try to be supportive by showing up to her events or being in the background. What kept you going was seeing her face light up when she would recognize you in the crowd. She still cares to see you.

You brought yourself over to her workspace, sitting on a nearby chair to watch her. An ugly feeling arising when you come to realize your plans will be cancelled again. Sitting in silence beside her can only be so much for so long.

“Rarity,” you call out, voice muffled from the sounds of her sewing machine. She spots your shadow walking up, momentarily stopping to listen.

“Do you want to go that city event tonight?”

“Oh darling I wish, but I am quite backed up. Perhaps we can reschedule?”

You highly doubt it. At this rate you don’t believe you’ll get a moment alone with her until she’s at a stable point in her career. If that even were ever happen.

She’s gone back to sewing, choosing another project to work on seeing as you’ve started to talk to her. Her glasses set on the tip of her nose, fingers working on weaving the needle through the cloth, fixing a hem that had fallen loose once fitted in the model.

“Rarity?”

“Yes?”

“What’s this supposed to do,” you emphasize your words by pointing at the tack around her thumb.

“Oh why it’s a thumb tack, helps me not to poke my finger when I’m doing smaller stitch work.”

The next two, three, six questions are running her patience thin. It’s like every minute you were dragging her attention here and there, anywhere but where she needs it to be. It snaps after the eight question, pushing her mind into an unhealthy state.

“What’s going on with you,” she starts, continuing to finish fixing the dress, “you’re usually not like this.”

You debate on telling her the truth, not sure if you could handle hearing her response to your apparent “issue.” She would laugh at you, find you ridiculous for thinking her work was taking her away from you.

“I’m just talking to you.”

“Well you did, and if you can’t tell I’m busy.”

“Of course you’re busy, that’s all you ever are,” you snap, hurt bleeding into your aggressive tone. “If you would take a step back you’d see that this has been taking all of your attention.”

“It’s a serious job, it’s going to take time to do.”

“And I’m not serious enough?“

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No,” you huff, “it’s what you’re showing. You’re acting like this isn’t a problem.”

“This wouldn’t be a problem, if you wouldn’t make one out of it. I think you’re being unreasonable, now please leave me be. That’s been quite enough.”

You wish it was a joke, or a nightmare, but her back facing towards you was reality. There was hope that she would turn around, apologize, say she’d love to meet later tonight. It hurts more when she moves to work back with the machine, the loud sound drowning out any other comments you may add.

With arms wrapped around you, you left. A choked sob escaping you once you’ve left her building. You’ve never experienced this side of her, one that’s aloof and removed. You avoided her house, walking straight back to your own to try and dry up the tears falling down your cheeks.

Rarity was unable to work. After working with a sewing machine for so long the sound has become like background noise to her, she’s used to it. So she heard your cry when you left, the sound new to her ears. She’s heard you cry before, but not because of her. Ego kept her from turning around and apologizing right then, and she regrets, guilt rising within her with every minute.

Maybe there’s a way to make it up to you. She’s rushing to check her clock, seeing that she still has two hours until the town’s event begins—she still had time. Your house was in the same neighborhood as her, a five minute walk either way. Upon approaching she notices the light on in your room. She feels worse when she sees your state. After opening the door, you’ve been looking anywhere but her, eyes puffy and red.

“I came to apologize,” she starts, wringing her hands together, “I was rude earlier, snapping at you like that. It was terrible of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

You nod along, eyes still sad and avoiding hers. She grows frustrated, movements less shy and inward.

“Oh I can’t take this. I miss you, and I’m so sorry. I’d leave this job in a second if it’d help remove this mopey feeling.”

“You don’t have to quit, I’m just selfish.”

“I do, it’s too much for me anyways—it doesn’t allow me to do what matters most.”

You’ve begun to cry again, teeth biting at your cheek to try and stop it.

“Are those sad or happy tears, darling. I quite hope they’re happy.”

“They’re happy,” you laugh, wiping at your face.

She smiles, pulling you into an embrace that would’ve had you blushing if she had done this after a week of dating. You grip her shirt, relaxing in her hold.

“You’re not a second choice to me.”

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

Over The Odds | Surprise

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook

Word count - 5.7k

You’re offered a life changing opportunity

warnings: mentions of mental health illnesses, mental health facility, toxic family members, oral sex (f receiving), passionate prone bone sex, soft jk & oc

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

Jungkook’s home has become your safe haven, a place to escape reality and catch a moment of breathing space when life gets tough. The familiar scent of musk and vanilla adds a certain nostalgia to the air, you miss him, he’s at work a lot of the time but has given you free reign of his place whenever sleeping in Jimin’s bed proves too much for you. It’s been one month since Ruth’s arrest, one month since Jennie had also been taken into police custody for her part in all of this too. Finally, fucking finally you’re beginning to feel like a ginormous weight has lifted from your shoulders.

Telling your parents what your sister had done was no easy task, your mum broke down in floods of tears and blamed herself: ‘maybe I raised her the wrong way’, ‘maybe I should’ve been there for her more’, and the one that stung the most, ‘I should’ve seen this coming’. Your father had a similar reaction, locking himself in his office for what felt like a lifetime to silently ponder all the parental mistakes he made, searching for the signs he overlooked before.

After a lengthy discussion with Taehyung you were advised that Ruth is probably going to be sent to a mental health institute to battle her demons rather than prison. A professional had conducted an examination on your sister, revealing that she is suffering with a collection of illnesses that alter her personality. As far as you’re aware she’s undergoing treatments and responding well to the medication, it’s hard to say for sure because you haven’t visited her yourself – only your parents have, initially to seek answers from their oldest daughter but you suspect they keep going back out of guilt.

Thankfully no legal repercussions came from Jungkook fighting with Namjoon, he’s assured you that there’s no footage of him ever being there and Taehyung has also advised that if anything is to creep up, he’s more than prepared for it with a catalogue of receipts proving why Joon isn’t a reliable source and any claims he makes shouldn’t be taken seriously by the law.

The hole in your heart from Namjoon’s infidelity has healed, however the betrayal of your sister is currently a working progress. If it wasn’t for Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi god only knows how you would be feeling right now. Things are settling down some, you’re applying for jobs left right and centre but to no avail, not yet – Jungkook has been taking care of you in every way possible: emotionally, physically, financially, despite your frequent protests telling him he doesn’t need to.

It's a Friday morning when you’re sitting in your boyfriend’s kitchen, propped up on the counter top in short silky pyjamas with a coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You’re mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, saving a few outfit inspiration posts that catch your eye when the device rings, displaying an unknown number.

“Hello?” You answer lazily, confused.

A woman who sounds to be mid thirties replies, “Hello, good morning, is this Y/N?”

“Who’s calling please?” You frown, sipping at your steaming drink.

“My name is Linda, I work for the BBC. Just to confirm am I speaking to Y/N?”

“…The BBC?” You cock your head to one side, “Yeah this is Y/N, what can I do for you?”

“Brilliant! I’m calling today to arrange a meeting with you if possible, I work in television and we’re currently looking into a documentary on cyber crimes against women in the UK. I’m very interested in sharing your story, with your consent of course. You’re quite the celebrity these days and I think with your platform we could really shine a light on this topic and the repercussions that come from stories like yours.”

Your jaw drops, you’re frowning, eyes wide, heart quickening.

“I-,” You’re at a total loss for words, this is something that you feel so strongly about and the chance to potentially help others who have gone through similar experiences is something you’re very much interested in doing, “That sounds like something I’d be interested in doing, when can we meet?”

“How does next Thursday at 2PM sound?”

“That would be great, thank you so much for calling me…” You’re wearing a surprised smile, already excited about the prospect of this new opportunity.

“No thank you for taking my call, take care Y/N we’ll see you next week and please feel free to brainstorm any ideas you may have, we’d like you to be as involved in this project as possible.”

“Thank you, have a good day.” You end the call with a single tap of the thumb, throwing yourself off the kitchen countertop with a grin to get ready for the day ahead.

BBC want your help sharing your story about cyber crimes against women? This could open up so many doors for your career, maybe you can even make use of your business degree and turn the hellish events of this year into something much, much bigger. Your brains doing overtime when you do your hair and makeup after a quick shower, deciding today is a day for celebration. You shimmy yourself into a champagne slip dress, a recent gift from your boyfriend, and grunge it down with some converse and an oversized black leather jacket.

The paparazzi are already waiting outside Jungkook’s building for you, as they usually are these days, so you offer them a small smile and wave before making your way to Jimin’s place to tell him your surprising yet very exciting news.

“Y/N? What are you doing here it’s not even 10AM.” Jimin rubs the sleep from his eye in his matching blue pyjamas, stepping to one side to let you in.

“Good morning sunshine. The BBC just called me, they want me to be in a documentary about cyber crimes against women.” You blurt in excitement which seems to wake your best friend up as he’s grinning just as widely as you are.

“Whoa, Y/N that’s amazing! Are you gonna do it?”

“Maybe? I think it could be a good thing to help them with this?”

Jimin pulls you in for a hug in the cluttered living space, you notice there’s cardboard boxes scattered about the apartment, “I think it’s a great thing, I’m so proud of you—”

“For having sex on camera?” You chuckle against his warm neck, “No but really, I wanna raise awareness for this type of thing, I already have so many ideas to tell them.”

“What’s Jungkook said about it?” He peels back and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi over his shoulder, shuffling around in pyjamas similar to Jimin’s.

“I’m gonna tell him tonight, they only called this morning.” You smile, waving at the newest member of your small friendship circle. “What’s with all the boxes?”

At this his face drops into something guilty, he turns away from you to boil the kettle and make everybody a drink, “Uh-, Y/N…”

“What?”

“Come on let’s sit down.”

And so you do, choosing to settle on the arm chair with your freshly made herbal tea as the couple take the small sofa along the next wall. Yoongi and Jimin, or yoonmin as you’ve affectionately labelled them, are the epitome of the perfect couple. They’re great together, in the time you’ve known them as a unit you’ve learned that their personalities couldn’t be more different even if they tried. Where Jimin is loud, sometimes overbearing and outgoing Yoongi is more reserved, introverted but his one-liner jokes always have a way of catching you off guard.

“What’s going on?” You quirk a brow, heart melting when your gaze finds Yoongi soothingly rubbing small patterns on Jimin’s thigh.

“The tenancy agreement on this place runs out next month,” Jimin sighs, “So… I’m gonna move in with Yoongi, but don’t worry we’ve spoken about it and—”

“And you can move in with me too, I live in Jungkook’s building… My apartment isn’t as big or luxurious as his but I have a guest bedroom that—”

“That we can decorate and make it yours, nothing has to change I still want us to live together—”

“We want you to live with us.” Yoongi corrects his boyfriend with a content nod and gummy smile, his newly bleached silver hair falling into his eyes.

“Guys…” You’re laughing breathily, taken aback by their gesture bless their sweet souls, “Thank you, really thank you so much but… I mean I practically live at Jungkook’s anyway, I can always talk to him and see if he’s ready to take the next step in our relationship and… Yknow… If not I can go back to my parents’ house it’s no big deal.” You nervously chew your lower lip, you want to live with Jungkook, hell in a way it feels like you already do, but you don’t know if he feels the same way.

“No really you can live with us Y/N, don’t feel like you have to ask anybody else.” Yoongi guzzles the rest of his morning coffee, promptly standing from the sofa, “Anyway I’ve gotta go get changed and get to work, I’ll see you both soon.”

“I mean it Y/N you can live with us, I’ve already picked out the colour scheme of your new bedroom.” Jimin beams like a proud dad, winning you to kick your head back with a laugh.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one who does that?”

“Well you’ve had a really traumatic six months… I thought I could lighten your burden.” He justifies with a mocking nod, hand clutching his heart.

“Ah, well thank you so much.”

“How are you doing now?”

“You mean since I saw you yesterday?” You giggle, “I’m fine.”

“No but really… How are you doing? Have you heard anything from uh-, Ruth?” He almost looks guilty when her name leaves his lips, though he has no reason to feel that way. It’s not like he was the one who betrayed you.

“My parents have been visiting her… She’s not well, but I haven’t spoken to her myself since she was arrested.”

“Are you going to speak to her?” Jimin’s question catches you off-guard, you almost drop your drink as you mull over what he’s asking of you. Do you want to see her? To speak to her? After everything she’s done?

You shake your head slowly, “Probably not, I hope she gets all the help she needs but to be frank with you I don’t want to be a part of her life anymore.”

“Understandable. So tell me more about this documentary!”

The rest of your morning is filled with Jimin trying to convince you to live with him and his partner, to which you do begin to consider it – maybe living with them would be the best thing. You’ll still be close to Jungkook, a lot closer than if you moved back into your family home, and you wouldn’t have to put a strain on your relationship by asking to move in either. It’s after a food delivery and endless conversations about the future with your bestie that you decide to head back to Kook’s apartment; excited to tell him about your new opportunity.

Back at the penthouse you’re busying yourself by hanging up Jungkook’s dry cleaning in his walk-in closet, it’s a little after six pm when the elevator chimes signalling his arrival. He looks fucking delicious today, as always, wearing grey and black checked trousers with a black shirt tucked into them, the first few buttons undone exposing his tanned skin. His hair is pushed back away from his face, flaunting his thick brows and chiselled features that soften upon seeing you when he steps inside the bedroom.

“You look…amazing baby,” His stare hungrily drags itself up the way the champagne coloured dress hugs your curves, “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” You shrug, smiling when he makes his way over, “How was work?”

“Ah yknow, bit of this a bit of that… Same shit different day.” He chuckles, his expensive cologne flooding your senses when he stands behind your frame, snaking his strong arms around your waist, “Is this new? Don’t think I’ve seen you wear it before, and I’m sure I would’ve remembered...” He squeezes the material of your dress, peppering your neck with dainty kisses.

“Mhm, my boyfriend bought me it last week actually.” You hum amused, trying to ignore the way your stomach knots with each of his little touches as you hang up the last of his suit jackets.

“Ahh, now I remember. He has good taste.”

“Well I guess there is kind of an occasion,” You loll your head to one side, granting him further access to your sensitive skin, his dark bangs tickle the flesh of your earlobe, “I’ve been asked to help the BBC with a documentary they’re doing on cyber crimes against women.”

“What?” He pulls his head back, spinning you in place until the swell of your breasts are flush with his toned chest, “That’s… Y/N that’s incredible, are you gonna do it?” His eyes are trained to yours, his smile genuine and brightening up the otherwise dark room.

To this you lift your shoulders, “Maybe? I mean I want to, it’s a topic not enough people talk about. I have a meeting with them next week to discuss it properly.” His hands find purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly.

“Well whatever you decide to do you have my full support, I know things have been rough for you and if this is a way for you to get closure and take control of the situation then I’m all for it.”

You hadn’t even thought about it like that, maybe sharing your story and what you went through with the video leak will be good for you, therapeutic even. Maybe it will give you closure, discussing your emotions and shining a light on the repercussions of revenge porn. You bring your arms to his broad shoulders, lightly grazing your manicured fingertips on the nape of his neck, winning a content sigh to fall from your boyfriends lips.

“You know I could get used to this.” He rests his forehead against yours with a breathy chuckle.

“Don’t destroy this one and I’ll wear it more often then.” You giggle, pressing your lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Mm, you know that I’m not talking about the dress,” He hums against you, your teeth almost clink together because of how much you’re both smiling, “I meant you being here when I get back from work.”

“I’m pretty much always here now.” You kiss him again, this time swiping your tongue over his lips earning yourself another sigh. He walks you backwards out of the closet until your knees hit the foot of his bed, his mouth never leaving yours when the kiss deepens into something more…desperate.

“I’m just saying,” You can feel how hard he’s already getting against your abdomen, his voice is husky and deep with seduction, yet quiet against your lips, “Maybe you should bring more things here, I like that you’re here a lot.”

“A little too much apparently.” You snake a hand down to cup his length, he hisses before shaking his head in disbelief with a smile.

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“Mhm, I get that quite often.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should learn how to behave then.” Your back hits the mattress with a small ‘oomf’ from your end when he pushes you onto the bed, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his muscular arms.

“Maybe.” You repeat with a smirk, hands gliding to his shirt buttons where you get to work in undoing them, “But maybe you secretly like that I’m such a brat.”

“It’s not much of a secret at this point now, is it?” He smashes his lips to yours in a series of lewd frenzied kisses that has you weak at the knees embarrassingly fast. You quickly rid him of his shirt, fingernails tracing the intricate patterns of his body art.

A small whine escapes you when he holds your hands above your head with one of his, pinning you in place. His other gets to work on hiking your dress up until the material pools your middle, exposing the pretty purple lacey thong you decided to wear today. He licks the shell of your ear before taking it between his teeth.

“Jungkook…” You breathe, desperate to feel more of him.

“Sometimes I forget how sensitive you are...” He murmurs, repeating his previous action until your hips are buckling up into his in search of friction. Thankfully he recognises your neediness and two inked fingers find their way to the waistband of your underwear, playfully twanging it, you can feel him smirking against your neck.

“Please…” You whimper, hands struggling against his hold.

He pulls back to sit on his knees, searching for the zipper of your dress. Your hands are finally free but you freeze, body tensing up as you stop him. You haven’t been completely naked in front of him, sober, in a very long time. Every time you’d been intimate with him you’d found a way to keep your lingerie on, or wore something with easy access that didn’t need removing completely. You still feel insecure about your body ever since it was publicly exposed.

“No-, stop.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, Jungkook stops in his tracks immediately with big brown doe eyes zoned in on your face.

“Are you okay?” He’s worried, but you’re distracted by the way his muscles flex under the dim lighting of his bedroom.

“Yeah yeah,” You nod quickly to reassure him, “Just leave the dress on please.”

“Y/N…” His brows are knitted together in confusion, “Why?”

At this you sigh, somewhat under pressure, “I just don’t feel-, please?”

“Baby…” His voice is low and quiet, he’s gripping your thighs gently, “You’re perfect, you know that right? So fucking perfect.” He lowers his mouth to your open thighs, gently sucking the flesh between a series of licks and kisses, winning a soft moan from you. “I love you so much baby…”

“I love you too.”

“Do you trust me?” His breath is warm against your skin as he slowly makes his way up to your underwear.

“You know I do.” You whisper, lying flat on your back against the bed sheets.

“Then please… Don’t cover up this beautiful body of yours…” He takes your lingerie between his teeth, playfully pulling it back. A groan erupts from your chest when he licks at your barely clothed clit, his hooded eyes are glued to yours, “I wanna see all of you, I wanna feel all of you… You’re perfect, so fucking perfect.”

“Please touch me Jungkook…”

You’re twisting the sheets beneath you when he hooks his fingers into your panties, dragging them down your legs painfully slow before you’re kicking them off the bed. He’s taking his time with you tonight, littering your folds with small kisses before finally he takes your clit between his lips and sucks gently.

“Fuck,” You throw your head back, body feeling ten million times hotter than it did when he first got back.

“You like that baby?” He hums, proud, flattening his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves where he traces small, familiar patterns – the same patterns he always does, making you come undone every time without fail, “You like it when I eat you out like this?”

“Mmm, yeah I do…” You push your core up to meet his mouth, his tongue massages your clit rhythmically.

He shifts on the bed, laying flat on his toned stomach as he continues to lap up your growing arousal. You’re growing wetter and wetter by the minute, the lewd noises of his mouth against you fill the otherwise quiet atmosphere and heat spreads your abdomen.

“Keep going.” You mewl.

“Take your dress off for me baby,” Jungkook’s stare is fuelled by nothing other than lust, “Please, you don’t need to hide from me Y/N.”

Lazily your fingers find the zipper and soon you’re pulling the champagne silk off your figure, exposing your matching purple bra which is sheer enough to see your nipples through it. You’re too turned on to feel insecure, Jungkook groans at the sight of your exposed body, burying his face between your folds with a new found determination.

“And your bra.” He mumbles.

Within minutes you’re completely naked and spread wide for your boyfriend, he’s eating you out so passionately and so messily that you’re already close to seeing stars. You yell something that sounds like his name when his arms reach up to your bare breasts, thumbing and rubbing your nipples, his touch featherlight but has you a writhing mess within minutes.

“You taste so fucking good baby.” He moans. The sound vibrates against you until it reaches your insides, adding to your growing orgasm while he speeds up his ministrations.

“Jungkook, fuck-“ You’re a panting mess, rolling your hips against his face. You peer down at him, it’s like he’s hypnotised by your pussy, suckling it so hard and perfectly in sync with the way he’s pinching your nipples. After a few particularly harsh licks and flicks of his tongue you welcome the white hot heat that threatens to spill, fingertips flying to his raven locks where you pull him impossibly closer, “There, oh my g-, right there, don’t stop! I’m gonna! Don’t stop!”

And he doesn’t, keeping the pace even until you’re empty hole is convulsing, pulsating as you cream all over his mouth and chin with a deafeningly loud moan. As always he helps you ride out your high, slowing his movements when he laps up every last drop of your come while you try and steady your heaving breaths.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, I love watching you come for me...” He exhales, gaze lost in yours. The way he looks at you as he crawls on top of your frame should be illegal, a shaky sigh leaves your lips when his come down to meet them, swallowing your pleas to be fucked. Your arousal lingers on his tongue, the taste swirls against yours and floods your senses.

“Please fuck me, please…please…” You whine.

He falls weak to you begs, quickly ridding himself of his checked pants and boxers, roughly gripping the bend of your waist, “Turn over.” He orders, voice low and dangerous.

You obey, rolling onto your front until your breasts mould against the mattress. Jungkook spreads your legs with his knees before lowering his body onto yours, holding his weight with his arms. He’s kissing your back, his multitalented tongue darting out with kittenish licks on your bare skin.

“Jungkook please.” You whine into the pillow, turning your face to the side.

“What do you want baby? Tell me.” His voice is merely a whisper.

“I want you to fuck me…” You gnaw your lower lip with desperation growing between your already shaky legs.

At this he lines himself up with your entrance, teasingly brushing his length between your sopping folds winning you both to groan in anticipation. There’s a ringing in your ears similar to white noise when he finally, agonisingly slowly, pushes every rock hard inch of himself into your core from behind.

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he rocks his hips into you, his pelvis pressing hard against the fat of your ass cheeks with each movement. He feels so big from this position, filling you up in the most devilishly good way possible. You push your ass up as much as you can, until his shaft brushes against your sensitive and spongey g-spot with every thrust.

“Jungkook.” You mouth falls into a silent ‘o’, eyes scrunched from pleasure.

“You’re amazing,” He breaths against your neck between lewd kisses against your skin, “You’re fucking amazing Y/N.”

You’re panting a chorus of ‘please’ ‘fuck’ ‘yes’ ‘Jungkook’ in sync with each time he fills you up to the brim, the crown of his cock pressing against your cervix hard enough to bruise.

“I love you so much… Fuck, I love you princess.” The new pet name whispered between soft groans sends a pang of heat to your abdomen, your second orgasm already approaching, “Touch yourself for me, rub that perfect little clit.”

Snaking a hand down the bed you find the sweet spot with ease and begin to do as he says, tracing small circles over the area in time with the deep yet slow rolls of his hips.

“That’s it, fuck-,” A guttural moan rips from his throat at the way your walls squelch and tighten around him, he knows you’re close, he can tell by your wayward breathing and the way you’re writhing under his weight, “You feel so good, I could fuck you like this forever.”

“Faster, go faster please…” You beg shamelessly.

At this he shakes his head, his damp hair tickling your shoulder, “Nice and slow baby… Nice and slow.”

Pained moans leap from your chest that’s heaving against the bed linen, he’s never been this gentle and passionate with you. The way he’s fucking into you sensually, holding himself in place with one arm as the other comes down to explore your curves, his fingertips grazing every spot on one side of your body until his palm finds purchase on your hip, fingernails digging into your skin when he grips you, pulling your bodies even closer.

“So close…” You warn him with a strangled whimper, speeding up the way your own hand rubs your throbbing clit.

“Go on, give me another one,” He’s equally as breathless as you when he takes the flesh of your neck between his teeth, “Come for me, your pussies already so wet—”

He’s cut off by his own throaty moan, the sound so deep it’s borderline a growl when your second orgasm hits, your hole clenching his thick length so sinfully that you’re nothing more than a blubbering mess beneath him, totally and completely fucked out. Both hands fly to the pillow that you’re squeezing and twisting in your grip, body jolting and shaking as you ride out the wave of euphoria.

“You’re so tight, ah-,” He hisses, kissing your temple.

“Kook…” You’re in a post-bliss daze, barely able to catch your breath. Your mind is blank, unable to concentrate on anything other than the sensations and sounds of Jungkook slowly splitting open your slippery walls. “Oh my god-“

It’s not long before his own orgasm approaches, his grunts turn into whines and his thrusts become messy, he never speeds up though, not once. He rocks his cock in and out of you at a leisurely pace until he’s chanting your name under ragged breaths. You peek back at him for a moment, the sight alone makes you gasp. His eyes are squeezed shut, kiss-swollen lips ajar, messy sweat-stained hair covers forehead and thick brows.

“You’re gonna make me come baby…” His hooded eyes flutter open for a second, his gaze locked onto yours before he buries his head into your shoulder with a loud, gravelly groan, spilling his hot seed into you.

Jungkook stills for a few minutes before rolling off, laying next to you with a glistening chest and worn-out smile, “You’re something else.” He chuckles, playfully spanking your ass. You can’t move, you’re still laid flat on your stomach untrusting of your wobbly limbs to hold your weight in any other position.

“I didn’t do anything.” You hum with a tired grin, “It was that dress.”

“I can assure you, you look much better without it.”

“Hmm.” You bury your face into the pillow, somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m serious,” He starts, lazily draping his arm round your middle, “You’re perfect, this body…”

“Jungkook, stop it.” You’re laughing when he shifts his position, choosing the straddle your hips with his palms massaging your shoulders. You melt under his touch, feeling the epitome of relaxed when he begins to work a particular knot between your shoulder blades with his thumbs.

“That laugh,” He sighs lovingly, “Your smile, your eyes… You’re perfect.”

“Mmm.” You neither agree nor disagree, instead choosing to enjoy this impromptu massage from your boyfriend.

“Y/N...”

“Mmm?” You glance back at him, to which he flashes you a coy boy-ish smile.

“Move in with me.”

“What?” This gets your attention, your limbs are heavy and weak but you manage to roll onto your back, blushing at how Kook is now straddling your front as opposed to your back.

“I’m serious, I want us to live together...”

You’re grinning up at him with hopeful eyes, “Really? You think we’re ready for that?”

“Definitely.” He nods with a smile brighter than ten thousand suns, folding his body until your lips meet again in a heartfelt, blissful kiss.

The week flies by, your meeting with the BBC goes better than you had hoped. The main producer Linda, the woman who called you, loved your ideas and is eager to share your story with the world and has given you full creative control in how you want it to be portrayed. You’ve signed a contract with them, it’s officially happening, amongst other exciting opportunities.

“A TV appearance?” Jungkook repeats.

“Mhm, once we’re done filming… To promote the documentary.”

You’re sitting on his lap, being careful not to shift around on top of him too much and save him from an awkward encounter since you’re not alone. It’s pizza night, Taehyung has joined you both for the evening at yours and Jungkook’s now shared apartment but doesn’t seem to mind the obvious semi-public display of affection.

“What’re your plans after the documentary? Like, what are you going to do with it?” Taehyung asks, taking a chomp out of his Hawaiian pizza. Everybody is dressed casually tonight, the three of you in sweats and hoodies while you enjoy some down time together.

“Glad you asked,” You snap your fingers and point to him, rolling your eyes with a smile at Kook who can’t seem to end the string of cheese coming from his own pizza no matter how hard he tries, “I’m finally gonna put my degree to use, I want to start a company that helps women in similar situations to mine… Pay for their legal help when they can’t afford it, provide them with the right resources to get them justice, offer counselling and so on.”

“Like a charity?” Tae raises his brows, seemingly impressed.

You nod, breaking the melted cheese away from Jungkook’s slice for him with your fingers, “Yeah, yknow I never knew what I wanted to do with my degree up until now, I’ve already got a few investors interested in funding the first year.”

“By investors do you mean Guk?”

“Nah,” Jungkook chuckles though he looks vaguely defeated, “She wants to do this on her own, I’ve tried telling her I’ll provide any funding she needs but—”

“But I want the entire thing to be founded by, funded by, and ran by women. Female attorneys, female counsellors, female staff.” You say proudly.

“Isn’t that a little sexist?” Taehyung clicks his tongue but you can’t help but notice he’s impressed by your ambition, his feline eyes wide and glistening when he smiles.

You offer him a small shrug, “I don’t think it is, I just want to give victims of cybercrime and revenge porn a safe space to talk about it and statistically most victims are women. Besides there’s plenty of companies out there that are run by only men.”

“Touché.”

“I’m telling you now,” Jungkook’s palm finds the small of your back, “You’ve got this, I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Your hand gently grips his chin and you angle his face towards yours, planting a chaste kiss to his lips which he reciprocates, “Thank you.”

“Any time.” He mumbles against your mouth with a grin, stealing another kiss.

“Guys c’mon I’m right here.” Taehyung complains, averting his eyes away from the scene, “Just because you live here now doesn’t mean I wanna see it every time I come over.”

Jungkook pulls away, facing his best friend with a smirk, “Sorry.”

Your phone vibrates inside your pocket, earning you to jump up from Kook’s lap much to his disappointment, “Hang on,” You hold up a single digit, “It’s my mum I’ll be right back.” You saunter out the room, closing the master bedroom door behind you.

“Hello?”

“Hi Y/N it’s just me…” Your mum’s voice is soft as she announces herself, despite the fact you knew full well it was her calling from her contact name and display picture.

“Everything okay?” You sit on the bed.

There’s a brief pause on the line, “It’s your sister…”

“Mum.” You cut her off sternly, she knows full well you want nothing to do with her after everything she’s done, “I told you I don’t want to know.”

“I know, I know,” Her voice is laced with guilt, “But she wanted me to pass on a message and I said that I would.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose vaguely irritated, “What’s the message?”

“She wants you to go and visit her.”

You bite back a scoff, “Why?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

“The answer is no.” You say with confidence, “I’m sorry mum, but I can’t. I don’t want her in my life after what she did. I’m not going.”

At this your mother sighs, you feel her pain of course you do, Ruth is her first born child and she will always love her no matter what she’s done and you don’t hate her for that. After all there’s nothing stronger than a maternal bond, “Okay, I’ll let her know... But since you’re not going to see her yourself there’s something you should know...”

“What?” You mumble, attempting to ignore the hurt in her voice.

“Ruth... She’s pregnant.”

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dcbbw · 4 months

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Red Pill: Perspective

Fair warning, this is not fanfic. It’s original content that came to me in the middle of the night after a day spent online perusing TikToks and reddit subs on red pillers and divestment groups.

To provide some context, the term “red piller” is derived from a scene in the 1999 film The Matrix, in which Laurence Fishburne offers Keanu Reeves a choice: “You take the blue pill – the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

In a nutshell, it’s comprised of the most misogynistic men on the planet, including incels, who gather in online forums and groups to basically see who hates women more.

Divestment refers to the removal of oneself from people, places, and things that are toxic, stifling, and/or a detriment to one’s health (mental, emotional, physical). It is a prominent movement amongst black women.

I’m nervous about posting this, but my skin is thick, and my mind is open. I can take compliments, constructive suggestions, and criticism with equal aplomb. To everyone who read this over and encouraged me to post, THANK YOU! Your feedback was, as always, invaluable.

To those who will read this, THANK YOU! Your reads, likes, commentary, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you know.

Please excuse any and all typos, extraneous/missing words, and grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this piece as 99% error free.

Song Inspo: Rose Lineage (Yoga Remix), Marya Stark/DJ Taz Rashid, + others

Word Count: 796

I am a black woman, plump lips and full hips

My hues are a rainbow, ranging from the thickest cream to the darkest onyx

Pigmentation a reminder of transgressions against me from enslavement to rape

I make more with less, expected to settle for anything, and apologizing to everyone for not diluting who I am

Who I have had to become

I am held up for public shame and ridicule

Teased for my crown of kinks and coils

Seen as housing projects and food stamps

Smelling of hamhocks and collard greens

Called dumb and ratchet despite being in the most highly educated population

Despised for being strong and independent

Blamed for your cowardice and weakness when you abandon me and your children

Because I do not let you lead

I’ve seen where you go: jail, passport bros, your mama’s house

And still, my back supports you, your seed, my family, the church

And the foot on my neck that unsuccessfully tries to hold me down

*****

I am a brown woman, born of colonization

Speaking languages broken, in an accented voice that somehow makes me a stereotype

You eat at my table, your eyes feasting on my bosom and curves. You celebrate my holidays and try to take what culture I have managed to piece together, but I can’t call it appropriation

No, it’s cultural appreciation while you call me and my people third-world country names

You try to dim my brightly colored clothing, deny me freedom, and steal my joy

You call my people slumdog millionaires who cross borders to take your jobs

Jobs you neither have nor want

I am considered only a slight step up from my black sisters because my skin is lighter, but not by much

My hair is silkier which is considered a win in your world

But who knows what it would be if the beginning bloodlines had remained undiluted, untouched by interlopers

My anger isn’t off-putting because it is seen as a reflex of sorts, born of my primitive ways

You take it as a challenge to make me submissive

To you

To trust your America: your ways, your English, your culture.

None of which belong to you

*****

I am an asian woman, what you call the model minority because I study hard, and I work even harder

You consider my acts of service to others submissiveness, which makes me both fantasy and fetish

My quietude is mistakenly deemed as obedience

I labor hard in all workforces to make a better life for me and those who depend upon me to not be a disappointment

Yet you not being able to see me beyond the niche you have placed me in makes you the biggest disappointment of all

It makes no difference

I am seen as a doll, malleable and easily manipulated into sexual parts

Here only to serve you, to listen to you, to cater to your every whim and perversion

I powder my face to adhere to standards of beauty you hold dear, close

It makes up for my dark nipples that you conveniently ignore as you go in and out of throes

*****

I am a biracial woman, born of rape or love … sometimes both

I am no one, belonging nowhere

I am not homogenous, which you view as a flaw I refuse to correct

Hated by at least two races, I create my own ethnicity that no one acknowledges

Culture clash at its finest

You say my blood is sullied, my color a mixture that doesn’t blend well

I am an anomaly: different, exotic; fodder for disdain, envy, mistrust

Wondering when you look at me is it love, lust, curiosity

While you’re probably hoping I’m a “pick me”

All I seek is inclusion

In a world of black and white, brown and yellow

Where is the gray?

*****

I am a white woman, worthy of protection but not privilege

I am the standard of beauty … in your eyes

Thin hair, thin lips, skin that burns beneath the sun

It is I you parade publicly on your arm, it is I to whom you will make a commitment

A trophy of sorts

It is I who you want to bear your children

It is I who will never see the workforce unless you want me to

Barefoot and pregnant

Cooking meals, feeding children, leading the Harper Valley PTA bake sale

As long as I remain a size 8

I can’t be tall, that would emasculate your ego

The house must be clean, that accentuates my femininity

Aprons and pearls hide blackened eyes, bruised arms, empty bottles

Social media promotes my smile when you praise my meatloaf

You make others believe they want to be me

That my white skin elevates me somehow

But does it really?

Tagging: @jared2612 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys

#dcbbw writes #original fiction #women #women of color #misogony #writer on tumblr

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gilverrwrites · 10 days

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Hi! Here I am with a Black Mask request 🖤. Could you write something where someone is threatening towards the reader and Roman gets protective about it?

Possessive Roman is great too but I wanna see this man go full protective mode!

You don't have to be sorry, Sweetheart.

Black Mask/Reader, 1.8K words

Request Info || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Rubbing my hands together like a hungry little racoon being fed. I forgot how feral this man makes me. I took me a while to find my Black Mask head space again, but my Roman is almost always based on an amalgamation of his 60-2000s-ish comic appearances, for reference. Oh and the mask, that does NOT come off. 🖤

Roman doesn't take kindly to an ex employee affronting you, after leaving you alone in a bar. Rated: 18+

CWs: Swearing, blood, spit, threats of violence, actual violence, and some more violence, switchblade, derogatory names: bitch, petnames: sweetheart, failure to wear seatbelts (- please don’t do that irl), protective Roman, somewhat possessive Roman, unhealthy relationship/toxic dynamics.

Please remember: You are stronger than your fears and doubts

Roman Sionis is no stranger to getting his hands dirty. In fact, anyone who’d worked close enough with him, himself included could tell you that Roman thrills in dirty work. However, there are some essential jobs that even Roman won’t touch. When these errands come up, there’s only one place to go to find a runt with morals low enough to get it done.

Noonan’s is the worst bar in Gotham, at least in your opinion. Roman didn’t seem to care much for it either. In fact, the first time you’d accompanied him on a business meeting there he’s told you; “This place is dicey at the best of times. Anyone touches you, says anything to you, so much as fuckin’ looks at you the wrong way, you come get me, alright, Sweetheart? I’ll set 'em straight.” And hadn’t let you leave his side until you’d sworn to come find him at the first sign of trouble.

Usually, you didn’t run into any real problems during the scarce amount of times you’d been there. Roman would conduct his dealings in a function room out back while you tried to keep to yourself. Most people knew who you were, who you were with, and were smart enough to keep to themselves. Nursing a drink in a dark corner typically didn’t draw any more issues than a few side-ways looks. Looks that didn’t seem worth mentioning to Roman. You love him, but he knows how to make a scene, and a scary one at that. It isn’t always worth the fuss. Usually.

It seems somebody was feeling unusually gutsy today. From the moment you’d entered, a familiar face had been watching you. You didn’t know their name, honestly, you likely couldn’t name a single person in this place. But you knew a lot of their faces, Noonan’s always seemed to draw the same crowd of washed-up and bitter ex-goons. Moments after Roman had taken his leave, your watcher approached, tripping over drunken feet until he was close enough to slam his drink onto your table, splashing you with beer in the process.

“Hey, you.” He leans over, pointing a finger in your face, far too close for comfort.

Careful to avoid elevating the situation you remain as still as possible, only moving your eyes in order to get a better look at him. Up close you can see smatterings of scars, and tattoos. He’s clearly tried to pay his dues with a lot of Gotham’s crime bosses and villains. A question mark, a penguin, a black skull.

“Yes, may I help?” You ask cordially, offering a smile.

“You’re Sionis’ bitch ain’t ya?” He slurs as he speaks, spit dripping onto his chin, and ricocheting towards you. “I got a bone to pick with that asshole.”

“Well, I’m afraid he’s busy.” You’d tried to be amicable but now your hospitable tone is gone, replaced with as much nonchalant venom as you can muster. “And his ‘bitch’ doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I don’t give a shit what you want.” He bangs a fist against the table. Luckily, you’d seen it coming and had had the foresight to grab your drink. But whoever this fucker was, had not. More of the amber liquid spills out onto the table. “That bastard fucked with the wrong guy when he laid me off. Do you know who I am?”

Do you know who he is? No, and you relay that information by staring at him with a pointedly blank glare.

“I said, do you know who I FUCKING AM?” Spit fires from his lips, hitting your face, you feel your already simmering blood begin to boil with each drop. “I’m. Henry. FUCKING Byrne.”

“Good for you, ‘Henry fucking Byrne’ but…” You shouldn’t say it, you know you’ll only provoke him, but he’s on your last nerve. “I. don’t. FUCKING. care.”

“You don’t care, I don’t bleeding care, I don’t care who cares! But he’s gonna care…” Your comment has set him into a long, drunken, incomprehensible ramble, you presume the ‘he’ in reference is Roman, but all other thoughts are cancelled out by the sight of Henry removing a switchblade from his back pocket. As he leans in closer, pointing the blade in your direction, the gravity of the situation sets in. If you don’t act soon, you might just meet your maker in fucking Noonan’s. Tragic. “He’s gonna fucking care when I wreck his bitch.”

Searching for a defence, an exit route, anything, your eyes dart around the bar, quickly locating your salvation.

His pristinely tailored suit highlights him amongst the crowd, the waxy polish of his mask glowing under the dingy low-handling lights. He advances with confident, assertive strides. Instant relief floods through you, followed by a completely different brand of panic.

Relieved to know that you’re almost certainly safe, panicked by the thought of whatever mess he’s about to make.

Despite the tap of Roman’s shoes and your obvious stare, Henry is too wrapped up in his own anger and babblings to notice the impending danger. Like a frantic school of fish being advanced upon by a shark.

He doesn’t deserve your kindness, but you offer it anyway, sliding your chair back, out of his reach as you shout; “Roman, don’t.”

“I just wanna talk.” He spits, holding both hands up, feigning innocence, showing that he’s unarmed. As if he needed a weapon to be dangerous. It’s a lie, you both know it.

Alerted to Roman's presence, Henry begins to turn but is stopped by a leather-clad hand fixing to the soft spot on the back of his head. With rapid force, he’s pushed face-first against the table. Once, twice, three times. Blood is pouring from his nose, mixing with the already murky puddles of spilt beer. Stray chunks of what you can only assume are broken teeth jump with every collision.

Henry’s knife clatters against the floor, narrowly missing your foot. You grab it, holding tight.

“Roman stop.” You say, certain you’re no longer at risk. “He’s had enough!”

Roman's brown eyes bore into you as he slows, gripping tight to your almost attacker's neck, guiding him back into a standing position.

“Do you think you’ve had enough?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Yes, yes sir. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Henry’s already slurred speech is muffled even more by his own fluids.

“Oh, you’re sorry.” Roman mocks, his neck is red with rage, his mask creaks as he juts his jaw back and forth, a habit you’ve learned is a calming mechanism, something he’d picked up since getting his pacemaker fitted. It isn’t working. “See ‘sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it, you need to be taught a lesson.”

Using his free hand, Roman reached over to you, pulling the switchblade from your clutching fingers.

“Cause you see, when you mess with what’s mine, you mess with me.” Tension hangs thick in the air, every patron is watching, waiting to see how this unfolds, what the infamous Black Mask will do next. “And nobody messes with me.”

“Roman.” You warn, standing and placing your hand on Roman's shoulder, gently tugging at him, urging him to cool off.

“Fine, I’m gonna let you go.” Henry’s face hits the table one last time with a hard smack, followed by the sickening crunch of his own blade being stabbed through his hand, pinning him to the table. “But be grateful, and know that if I see your face anywhere near us again, I won’t be so gentle.”

All eyes remain on you both as you turn to leave. Roman doesn’t care. He firmly wraps a hand around your upper arm, leading you between tables, past the bar, and toward the door.

“Let that be a lesson to all of you.” He chides the onlookers in one last display of warning, before making his exit.

The time passes in a blur as Roman guides you outside, summons the car, herds you inside, and informs the driver to take you home, all the while his hands never leave your form, but once the car starts running time rapidly slows.

You sit together on the back seat, in silence. Roman is not traditionally expressive, for obvious reasons, but you’ve been together long enough to pick up on his emotional tells. He’s rolling his jaw again, and flexing his hand in and out of a fist shape, trying to cool off, trying to prevent himself from snapping at you.

In an effort to help soothe his anger you manoeuvre closer, until your sides brush together. You move to place your hand on his chest, but he grips your wrist, denying you.

“What did I say?” He isn’t yelling, but there’s still an anger to his tone, and a hardness in his eyes that you’re not accustomed to being on the receiving end of. Before you can respond he continues; “I told you, if anything happens, you come get me. What was that?”

“I know, I know, but I’m fine.” You reassure, nudging your arm until he releases you. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle him, but it just escalated so quickly.”

His look softens, never able to stay mad at you for long. He lets your hand fall against the soft fabric of his blazer. In a quick, practiced motion he lifts your legs up and over his own, positioning you into a cradled position. Removing his gloves before resting one hand on your lower back, and the other on your thigh where he strokes his hand in slow circles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart, just promise me, next time you sense trouble, you come to me.”

It would be easy to lie to him, to make an impossible promise, he tells white lies all the time. But you know he values your honesty, he has expectations for you that he does not hold himself to, you’re the light to his darkness. “If I can, I will, I promise, but it’s not always that simple Roman. I’ve got to defend myself sometimes.”

He lets you talk, but he’s shaking his head, disagreeing before you can finish.

“This isn’t up for discussion.” He speaks in the gentlest tone, a voice that is reserved for your ears only. “I know you’ve had to look out for yourself in the past, but you’re mine now, and always. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

Your back hits the plush upholstery of the car seat, contrasting with the hard wood of Roman’s mask pushing against your lips. You welcome the familiar mahogany smell, the taste of spice that invades your senses. Kisses from Roman are never gentle, they’re harsh and cold against your skin, no matter how gently he runs his hands along your body.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, just enough to get a good view of your face, to look into your eyes. The coolness of his forehead presses to yours.

“Nobody is more important to me than you.” His voice is sharp and gritty. He holds you just a little bit tighter. “I’d burn this city to the ground before I let anything happen to you.”

#black mask x reader #roman sionis x reader #black mask #roman sionis #gilverrwrites #black mask imagine #roman sionis imagine #scheduled post

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