#this is gorgeous thank you very much...bless...

[cry-ptidd]

Im nearly a whole year late I can't believe I missed this it's so gorgeous and amazing and beautiful I love her so much

oh yeah might as well commemorate finally making a hellsing sideblog with @cry-ptidd 's Cool Werewolf Woman, hopefuly with less uniform details missed this time :)

[straylightdream]

might let you make me juno

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim mingyu x afb.reader

If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno. You know I just might. Let you lock me down tonight. One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, smut, porn with a little plot

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): non idol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: mature, 18+

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mention of wanting children and getting knocked up

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, creampie, oral (fem rec), fingering, squirting, massive dick Mingyu, pussy stretching, dirty talk, needy reader, multiple positions (cowgirl, and missionary), breeding/impreg kink, the mc calls herself a slut (she’s very sex positive), use of lube, mentions of using fuzzy handcuffs

nicknamed: baby, baby girl, darling, good girl (hers) baby (his)

𝐚𝐧: inspired by the song of the same name by Sabrina carpenter. I wanted to post this for Mingyu’s birthday. Thank you so much to @sluttyminghao and @mylovesstuffs for beta reading and helping me edit this!

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

Tall, gorgeous and handsome. The sight of him is absolutely mouth-watering. God bless his father for his genetics he was clearly gifted with.

You’ve been seeing Mingyu for three weeks and you are practically feral at the thought of throwing yourself at the beautiful man you are thirsting after.

As it turns out, Mingyu is a gentleman and requested you take things slow. He told you he wanted to wait until you’ve been together for a month before you finally get down and nasty together.

Your three weeks together haven’t been all sweet and innocent though. At the beginning of week two, after a late-night dinner, some heavy making out and dry humping led to him fingering you on the couch. Two nights later you found yourself with your hand in his sweatpants groping his very, very large cock. You practically begged him to let you blow him, but he said on your next date you could take the next step.

A couple of days ago was when you were finally blessed with the opportunity to suck the life out of Mingyu and his massive cock. You liked to think that you were pretty good at sucking dick, but nothing could truly prepare you for this experience. You couldn’t fit his whole length in your mouth at first without gagging. After a few tries, you could finally take him in your throat. The praise he gave you as he used his hands as a makeshift hair tie, which left you wet.

You’ve been far from innocent for a while. You lost your good old-fashioned v-card a week into your sophomore year of college and never looked back. Some people might say you’re a little loose with who you sleep with or maybe a good old fashion “slut”, but you don’t see it that way. You always just say you’re sex positive; you’re all about embracing the sexual side of yourself.

The night you met Mingyu he informed you that he’s a reformed fuck boy. The reason he wants to take things slow with you is because he wants to fully build a connection. If that’s what he wants, you’ll follow his request.

Tonight, you’re three nights shy from a month together. You aren’t sure you can make it through this date if you don’t finally get the opportunity to ride him like your life depends on it.

The thing about Mingyu is that you’re pretty sure you’re going to fall in love. It’s not just because of his perfect genetics and massive cock. He’s, unfortunately, perfect. Maybe not unfortunately—fortunately for you—he’s perfect. He’s a gentleman, he’s so kind, and he fucking cooks. He’s everything a mother dreams about their daughter finding in a partner. You knew one day if you take him home, your mother is going to beg you to marry him. She’s going to take one look at him and tell you to make her some grandchildren.

Hell, your friends are all telling you to lock it fully down. The day after your first date, you showed them a photo of Mingyu, and they literally gave you a high five that you managed to bag him.

There is something about Mingyu that just makes you feel like you’re an absolute horny mess at all times. You haven’t always been like this. Sure, you’re sex positive and love sex, but a normal man doesn’t make you feel like all your hormones are out of whack. Maybe that's because when he smiles, he instantly gives you butterflies and makes you feel like you’re falling hard.

Standing outside the expensive restaurant he just took you to, you’re waiting for a cab. His arm is over your shoulder as you lean against him. You’re desperately hoping that your matching red lingerie set with crotchless panties isn’t going to go to waste tonight.

“Mingyu?”

“Yes, darling?”

“What’s the chance I get you to take me home and see what’s under this dress?”

Biting his bottom lip, he holds back a smile. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Death by pussy doesn’t sound like a terrible death.” You absolutely love teasing him.

“Death by your pussy is how I personally prefer to die.”

“Is that a yes to finally riding you like my life depends on it?”

He can’t help but let out a chuckle at your extremely blunt statement. Before he can even respond, the cab arrives. Mingyu pulls away long enough for you to slide into the back seat. He slides in next to you. His large hand rests on your exposed thigh. He gives the cab your address.

Slowly, he leans in close, brushing your hair away from your ear. “Yes, you can do all things you have been dreaming about,” he whispers just loud enough for only you to hear. His hand stays firmly planted on your thigh, never moving.

The whole cab ride, you felt like it was taking everything in you not to crawl onto Mingyu’s lap and start kissing him like you need him to breathe. Fucking in the back of a cab probably isn’t the best idea though. The last thing you need is to get arrested for public indecency.

The moment you’re out of the cab, you grab his hand and pull him towards your apartment. The walk to your apartment feels too long. The second your apartment opens, you shove him against the door. “Someone’s extra horny tonight.” He has no clue how much he turns you on with little to no effort.

“I’ve been so patient with you. I just think I deserve a reward for being such a good girl.”

“Oh, you’re a good girl?” He cocks his head to the side.

“I’m a good girl just for you.” You trail your fingers up his chest.

“What does my good girl want me to do tonight?” He leans down so his lips are closer to yours.

“I have some fuzzy pink handcuffs you could try out.”

“Naughty girl.” He pops his tongue and gives you a wicked grin.

“You know I want you so bad. I don’t think I have ever wanted someone like you.”

“Are you just saying that because you want me to fuck you?”

“No. I’m saying that because I like everything about you. Sure, you’re hot, and you make me so horny I feel like I’m going crazy. You’re honestly perfect for me. I have fallen so hard for you.” You might as well lay all your cards out on the table.

“Oh, you’ve fallen for me?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Does that mean you haven’t fallen for me?” You’ve fallen for him so hard, there is no way he hasn’t fallen for you too.

“Baby girl, I’m head over heels for you.”

“Do you like me enough to make me Juno?”

“Like the movie?” He lets out a laugh.

“Yeah. Do you know one of me is cute? Could you imagine two?”

“Does my pretty girl have a breeding kink?” “What, you don’t want to knock me up?” You don’t want him to knock you up just yet, but there is something thrilling about playing into a breeding kink that you both clearly have.

“Does that mean no condoms tonight?”

Pressing your index finger into his chest, you look up at him and smile. “Make me fall in love tonight, big boy.”

Stepping around him, you head off towards your room, knowing he’s going to follow behind you. Opening the door, you have about ten seconds before Mingyu walks in behind you. Slipping off your high heels, you can feel his eyes burning into you. He is standing by the door, just watching as you go about slowly taking off parts of your outfit. Walking over to your dresser, you remove your jewelry. Looking into the mirror that’s on top, you find Mingyu carefully watching.

Reaching back, you slowly start unzipping your dress. The red fabric pools at your feet. Your red lace lingerie set you’re wearing is fully sheer. Your body is fully on display.

“Fuck-“ he groans.

“Like what you see, big boy?”

He instantly starts unbuttoning his dress shirt. Reaching into the nightstand, you pull out a bottle of lube and those pink fuzzy handcuffs you had mentioned before. Twirling them around your finger, you watch as he strips down to nothing but his boxers that are doing nothing to hide his very large erection.

“You know I want to blow you so badly, but I feel like I have been such a patient girl. I was hoping you could eat me out before I ride you.”

“Can your pretty lingerie stay on?” He steps closer to you.

“You don’t want to unwrap your present?”

“You look too good in it for it just to end up on the floor.”

Crawling onto the bed, you lay back, propping yourself up on your pillows. You spread your legs to show him how wet you already are. Slowly, you dip your fingers through your wet folds. “Oh.” You can’t help but moan as you circle your sensitive clit. His eyes are locked on you, watching each of your movements.

“Are you going to make me do all the work?” You sigh.

He crawls onto the bed. Laying on his stomach, he takes one of your legs resting it over your shoulder. He kisses the delicate skin on your inner thigh.

“Mingyu- please-“ If he wants you to beg for him you absolutely will.

“As you wish.”

His lips attach to your sensitive clit, sucking on it while he starts pumping one finger in you. He’s large, so you’re well aware he’s going to have to stretch you out before you can properly take him without pain.

The fact that Mingyu is eager to eat you out is just another thing about him that’s perfect. He’s said he gets off on pleasing his partner. By the ways he’s practically making out with your pussy while he pumps two fingers in and out of you, you know he’s not lying. Judging by the size of Mingyu's extra large cock, you know two fingers probably aren’t enough.

“Another one, please.” You practically beg.

He chuckles against your core. His lips stay pressed against you. Another finger is added. The stretch feels so good. He has you moaning like a bitch in heat. To be quite honest you feel like you’re in heat, with how desperately you want the man between your legs.

His fingers start doing a come hither motion, causing a pressure in your stomach you’ve never experienced.

“Gyu-“ His name is nothing more than a broken moan.

“What does my good girl want?” He pulls away from your pussy for the first time.

“Oh- go-d-“ Your entire body feels tense. You’re starting to feel dizzy and your release is getting closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue starts flicking your clit at a fast rate. His long fingers are rubbing the spongy spot inside you.

“Gyu-“ You practically scream. A pressure breaks inside you. Your walls contract as your release squirts all over Mingyu's hand and face.

His fingers slowly pump inside you, helping you ride out your high as he pulls his face away from your core.

“Baby-“ You can’t form coherent words. You’ve never squirted before in your life. You’ve never had an orgasm that feels as if it’s left you brain dead.

“Luckily you didn’t squirt on the bed. You just got my hand and face.” He lets out a laugh.

“I’ve never done that before,” you sigh.

He sits on his knees between your spread legs. “I’m honored.”

Laying down on the bed next to you he pulls off his boxers. He’s laying there naked with his large dick resting on his stomach. He taps his hip. “Climb aboard.” The cocky grin he sports gives you butterflies. He grabs the bottle of lube. Clicking the cap open he generously coats his length.

Slowly crawling onto his lips he wastes no time massaging your already wet core with lube.

Straddling his waist you grind against his large cock. Maybe one orgasm isn’t enough to make it comfortable to take him.

“Did you want to try those fuzzy handcuffs on me?” you ask, reaching out and picking them up.

“Orgasm number three I’ll handcuff you. I want you to ride me, as you said like your life depends on it.” Biting your bottom lip, you can’t help but smirk. “Do you need more lube?” His hand rubs your thigh.

“Let me try to take you, and if it hurts, we can use more.”

Lifting your hips he holds his length at your entrance. You take him slowly, inch by inch, giving yourself a chance to adjust to his massive size. It feels as if he’s splitting you open, but it’s absolutely delicious.

He fills you to the brim. There is no way he’s not bruising your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re huge.”

“Sorry, baby.” He sounds concerned. His large hand is gently rubbing your thigh.

“You’re splitting me open, but it feels so good.” By the end of your sentence, he’s smiling up at you.

There’s no way in hell you could start with a quick pace. You start with a small bouncy pace. Only moving up an inch or two before sinking back down. His hands rest on your hips, helping you move.

Leaning forward your hands are resting on his chest. You slide your hips up further and further with each thrust. Sex with Mingyu feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. The way he’s stretching you out makes you feel as if you’re close to the edge. The room is filled with wet sounds of you siding up and down his cock, your whiny moans, and his deep groans. It sounds like a porno, and you can’t get enough of it.

Your release comes quicker than you expected. Your body is tense and your walls contract. Throwing your head back you moan his name. You still completely, your body is completely fucked out. You can’t continue to ride him in your dazed state.

“Did I break you, baby?” He rubs your thigh gently, as if he isn’t thrusting into you while your brain is completely broken.

“Fuck- Gyu-“

“Can I flip you onto your back?”

“Yes.”

With little to no effort, he flips you. He spreads your legs wide, giving him more access to your practically abused pussy. He sits on his knees. His pace is slow but firm.

“Did you want those fuzzy handcuffs now?” He teases you.

The idea of not being able to touch him now makes you want to cry.

“No-“ You whine.

He moves down, hovering over you. His pace picks up. His release is rapidly approaching. The way he moans your name is like music to your ears.

“Can I come inside you?”

“Ple-ase.” You’re cock drunk and can barely speak.

“Did you want me to get you pregnant?”

“Yes.” You don’t actually want to get pregnant, but having children with him one day would be a dream.

Slamming his hips into you, he fills you to the brim, painting your walls white with his salty release.

Collapsing on top of you, he tries not to put all his weight on you. He places a trail of wet kisses across your collarbone. “Baby do I need to get up and get you plan b?”

You can’t help but laugh. Of course that’s his first question after fucking you so good you can’t even think straight

“No, I'm on birth control.”

Your hand runs up and down his spine almost as if you’re trying to memorize how it feels.

“Give me two years and I’ll actually make you Juno. You’re not wrong, one of you is cute. I couldn’t even start to imagine two of you.”

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.

[no-144444]

my girl- (o.piastri no.81)

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summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)

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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa  (F2 -> F1)

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Clip 1: Prema video 

Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March. 

“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane. 

“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”

“The plane is landing, idiot!”

“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”

Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior. 

As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her. 

“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!” 

Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.” 

Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”

“No way I have any chance with her, I-”

“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself. 

He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed. 

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Clip 2: Sky Sports channel

Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March 

“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!” 

“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line. 

“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar. 

“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”

“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”

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“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said. 

Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”

“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”

Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”

“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled. 

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Clip 3: Prema video

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.

“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”

Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching. 

“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”

“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”

Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.

“What?” Oscar laughed.

“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked. 

Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)

“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed. 

“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned. 

“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you. 

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Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video. 

Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England. 

“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”

“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!” Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead. 

Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."

Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”

Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you. 

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”

Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”

He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him. 

“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”

Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them. 

“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin. 

“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.

“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.

“Yes!” they all answered. 

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As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go. 

“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film. 

“I can help,” Oscar whispered. 

You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled. 

“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?

“Fine,” you smiled. 

You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave. 

“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.

“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss. 

He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”

You chuckled. “Yes.”

Oscar was elated. 

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Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage

Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd. 

You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest. 

You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled. 

“Feels good, huh?” you smirked. 

“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.

“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.

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Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage

 Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race. 

“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!” 

Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall. 

“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said. 

“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace. 

“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”

“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly. 

“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car. 

As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”

“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”

Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified. 

“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright. 

“Is there any news yet?”

“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen. 

“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked. 

“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved. 

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Clip 6: Prema video

ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.

You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over. 

“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back. 

“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”

You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”

Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh. 

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

Clip 7: Prema footage

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December

“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!” 

You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it. 

The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person. 

Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on. 

“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.  

You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet. 

“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”

And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on. 

He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”

You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss. 

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

Clip 8: Prema footage

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December 

He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible. 

You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won. 

“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away. 

“Thanks baby,” he smiled. 

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

Post-race interview

“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked. 

“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.

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

Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel 

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1. 

“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”

You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.

“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”

“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries. 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”

“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go. 

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

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!” 

“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy. 

“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”

“Great driver,” he added. 

You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.

“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”

You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled. 

You laughed. “It suits you.”

He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back. 

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

Clip 10: Prema video 

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy. 

You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably. 

You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off. 

“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles. 

“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”

The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!” 

“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again. 

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

Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November 

“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n  Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”

You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it. 

You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard. 

“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours. 

You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Osc.”

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

Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023. 

“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!” 

 Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so. 

He was in awe of you. 

He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him. 

“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.

“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled. 

“You were amazing out there,” he smiled. 

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

Clip 13: McLaren video 

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 

“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”

Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”

“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”

“But it’s the truth!”

“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?” 

“Max Fewtrell?” 

Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”

Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”

Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him. 

“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek. 

“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself. 

“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him. 

“Bad flight?”

“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you. 

“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?” 

You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself. 

“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview. 

“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked. 

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

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

Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog

Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023 

“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling. 

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

Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram

Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”

As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him. 

“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled. 

“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!” 

“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”

“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”

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

You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them. 

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

Nicole Piatri’s instagram live 

“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up. 

“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed. 

Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile. 

He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-" 

You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”

“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled. 

“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal. 

“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed. 

“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”

“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”

“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”

“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.

You both turned to Nicole with confused faces. 

“You’re still filming mum?!” 

This live has now been ended by the host. 

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

Clip 16: Sky sports channel

​​Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar 

“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!” 

“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced. 

“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!” 

“I said P2 for you,” he reminded. 

“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together. 

“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid. 

“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard. 

“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed. 

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

Post-sprint conference 

“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”

You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”

The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. 

“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh. 

“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face. 

“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 

He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”

The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face. 

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

Clip 17: Drive to Survive 

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2. 

You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh. 

You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”

“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”

You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”

“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”

“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh. 

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

Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!” 

You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend. 

“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”

“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”

“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed. 

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

“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced. 

“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?” 

“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled. 

“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it. 

He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him. 

“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”

“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. 

His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”

Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care. 

You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.

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

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[okwonyo]

LOOSE ✶ down!bad enha ｡

𝗧𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜 ────── 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅.

❪ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐒 ❫ ｡ enhypen & fem!rea 14OO fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship very pathetic boys ◜ᴗ◝ DAILY

骚人 ܃ hyung line is longer because i wrote them in my pcㅠㅠ stream loose and enjoy 🎀

HEESEUNG

he swears he is not crazy. he swears that there is nothing wrong with him— for him to be looking at you like that. but, he admits that he cannot control himself, especially when you are doing so simple and making his heart bounce in his chest.

this is the hottest you could have done, ever. your lips moving at the way you say his name, “heeseung, wait,” you say in a soft tone. halting him in his movements as he gets ready to get out of the house.

his mouth falls agape, he stays still, watching you seduce him by holding your hair tie in between your lips. your neck stretches when you lean your head back, and he has to fight every urge of his to not bite—teasing— your exposed skin.

his eyes widen ever so slightly whereupon your gaze meets his when you finally tie your hair into a ponytail. there is a small smile that draws itself on your lips— you know you’ve got him starstruck; “who are you looking at like that?”

your voice shakes him out of his trance, but he can’t help but find you gorgeous. he doesn’t even have the strength to flirt, too touched by your dizzying beauty, “i’m looking at you.”

JAY

“honey,” you call him. voice still filled with drowsiness, you close the shelf and get back on your feet to turn towards your boyfriend— who is busy making breakfast for you both— after he hums, “where is my mug?”

the man looks over his shoulder quickly, there is endearing smile written on his lips, “here,” then he tilts his chin to the shelf next to him, therefore to the opposite side of where you stand, to indicate what he means by his declaration.

you are half still in dreamland and way too sleepy to ask him to get it for you as well as to think about any other way of getting to that shelf without walking between him and the kitchen counter. he wasn’t ready for what was coming.

without thinking much of it, your hands rest on his well sculpted waist, your fingertips brush against his firm abs. you are too busy saying, “excuse me,” to notice that he goes fully rigi and that he has stopped cooking.

for a while, there is a quite heavy silence in the kitchen. it takes you a moment to realize— you get on your tiptoes first and get your well needed mug. you notice that his face is as red as a tomato just a few seconds later.

JAKE

his fluffy brown is a blessing. he doesn’t need you to tell him about it to know it. he thanks the deity who gave it to him, as well as the one who gifted him with a girlfriend who is quite literally obsessed with his hair.

he loves when your fingers run through his hair. when he lays with his head on your laps, and he feels his hair being played with, he can’t help but fall asleep. and when you grip his hair sweetly as he kisses you, he whines. that how much he loves it.

but this time, this is something new. a brand new gesture coming from you. a gesture that brings a new feeling inside of his stomach— it’s worse than butterflies, burning more than fire.

“i’ll be back in a few,” you tell him, his heartbeats get higher as your hands reach for his head. you tuck his long fluffy hair strand behind his hear— on both sides. double tuck, double heart attack. then you kiss him when he is too stunned to say anything, “love you.”

he stays in shock for a moment. until the door shuts and he realizes that your warm hands aren’t cupping his face anymore. his brings his hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating loudly, “wow.”

SUNGHOON

you are driving him insane. on purpose, you are driving him into a spiral, with the simple touch of your lips on his skin. everywhere, on his nose, on his cheek, on the corner of his lips— but never on them.

“please,” he pleads. his voice is a little bit shaky as he sighs, heavy with the desperation of a kiss from you. as you approach again, he can’t control himself and pucker his lips again. this time, you are so close that he actually believes for a second that his misery would end.

but you kiss the other corner of his mouth again, and even if he can feel your lips, it is not enough for him. this time, he groans, hiding his red face in the crook of your neck as you laugh.

he could kiss you himself. he could pin you against the couch and collapse his mouth onto yours but he can’t. your kisses, although they never reached his lips, made him weak in the knees, red in the face down to his neck. he is unable to fight back—not when the slightest brush of your mouth against his skin makes him so flustered.

“you are so mean,” his voice is weak. you don’t know why you started this, but you thank yourself for the idea.

SUNOO

he can feel shyness creeping to his neck more and more the longest your pretty eyes settle on him. they don’t move as he talks— you stare at him, not blinking.

it is not much the unwavering gaze that got his heart hammering against his chest. but the anticipation of what is about to come next, the endearing word that you will use to qualify him soon enough.

it is ridiculous, he knows. you have complimented him a lot of times before, yet it still has the same effect on him.

he tries to not look into your eyes, tries to stare at the ceiling, the television, your hands, everywhere but your eyes. he fails, and when he sees the smile appearing on you face; he knows he is done for.

“you have pretty eyes,” the words slip out of your mouth, smooth as water. he drinks the compliment, his head falls backwards as he hides his blushing face. you are going to kill him one day.

JUNGWON

it starts as soon as you arrive back at home. when he rushes to you after the door opening and your gentle greeting. he is quick to lock you in his embrace.

“hi,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck to reciprocate his hug. you let yourself be lifted up by the man— who does it with barely any effort at, if not none.

he doesn’t respond. well, at least not properly. he mumbles something into your shoulder and then you can feel his nose in the crook of your neck, “you smell nice.” is what he tells you.

you are taken aback, you admit that. “oh?” it feels like he trying to get the tip of his nose through your flesh. his embrace becomes tighter and his skin gets warmer. wait— “are you blushing?”

he makes a sound that is between a groan and a whine. you can see his neck getting crimson. he doesn’t let go for a while.

RIKI

given the obvious difference between his height and yours, he tends to lean in a lot whenever you talk. he says that it is to hear you better but the truth is: he loves to see you get nervous over it.

however, he was never the one being victim of this movement. therefore, he is a little dazed when it happens to him for the first time.

he holds your wrist as you get up from your place, making you turn around and stop in your track. still sitting, the man is a bit doe eyed as he looks up at you.

he says something that you can’t hear, due to your friends talking loudly around you both. he gets ready to repeat, louder— but his throat gets dry when you lean closer, slightly bending down to him.

his grip around your wrist becomes lighter, his mouth opens to talk but your perfume and your breath so close to his skin makes him unable to say anything.

taglist is open ! ♡ feedbacks&reblogs are appreciated

[thetrasha]

Hello again 👋 since you did such a stellar job last time, i'm here to request another Ace, Doffy, Law and Zoro story, this time about their first kiss x reader! Tysm and i hope you feel better soon ❤️

Thank you so much, anon. I feel much better, just suffering from a stuffy nose and a bit of a cough now 🫂(❁´◡`❁) It's actually so sweet to have recurring faces in my inbox~ And thank you so much for this request! I was super enthusiastic about writing this and poured everything I had into this 🫡Hope you enjoy it just as much!

PS. I'm so sorry for abusing your request like this, but I wanted to address another anon in my ask box 👀You requested a certain Corazon and hehe, yes I've just reached that part of Dressrosa! I just don't feel confident enough to portray him just yet so your request will be pushed a bit into the future, hope that's okay with you ♥ So excited to write about this man though ╰(*°▽°*)╯

PPS. I cooked. Again!!

First Kiss

feat. ACE, DOFLAMINGO, LAW, ZORO

ACE

Your first kiss was… sweet.

For quite some time, Ace and you have been inseparable. You’ve become fast friends after hitting it off, deciding to even go on missions together. Most of the others have caught onto you by now, silently offering their blessings, but you two were completely oblivious to the budding romance between you. It was perfectly normal to go up to Vista and give him a hug – why would it be different when Ace twirled you around after you returned from your little scout session on an unexplored island? Nobody blinked twice after you spent an evening playing cards with Marco in his room, but low whistles and wiggling eyebrows would follow you when Ace wanted to show you some random trinket he caught with his fishing rod. Additionally, everybody aw-ed and cooed when Whitebeard patted your hair and smiled down at you, but if Ace ever went as far as touch your shoulder out on the open deck, some other commander was always near to berate him on ‘how to treat a lady properly’.

You haven’t been around as long as most of the others, so… maybe this is just how the crew decided to affectionately tease Ace since he was the youngest commander around?

However, Ace was very much aware of the others’ constant meddling and why they were so keen on making his life miserable.

He’d told Marco to back off once – just once! – because the doctor had been acting too familiar with you when Ace was the one who was madly in love with you. That single sentence spread like wildfire amongst the crew and now he cannot even do best-friend-esque things with you without someone else trying to ruin the moment.

It was totally normal to develop a huge crush on your best friend. You are gorgeous, so loving and you care so much – maybe too much.

It was also perfectly fine and not unusual to stare at them for moments at a time, trying to muster up the courage to ask you out on a da-

“ACE!!! YOU’RE SETTING THE BED ON FIRE. OUT WITH YOU!”

Marco’s scream rang across the entire Moby Dick, alerting everyone with ears that Ace had just embarrassed himself again. Originally, he went in to see Marco because of ...certain problems, but he couldn’t quite tell him that you were constantly in his head and making his heart leap into his throat every single time he thought about your smile or how nice you smelled today and how cute you looked in the outfit you showed him…

Sigh.

Luckily for him, you were just within earshot to hear Marco’s crazy rant… that still ran its course in the background, and you immediately sought Ace out to help him.

You had your own hammock with you and let him follow you wordlessly into his room. This time, nobody was even there to interrupt.

You started talking about what you were up to before you heard Marco’s alarm bells ringing in the med bay. Of course, you were a natural at taking care of Ace… but that was very much part of the problem!!

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you with so much longing in his eyes that it would have made anyone blush. You were his missing piece, better half – whatever they want to call it.

You’ve seen him through it all, but you weren’t tired of him. You didn’t mind his quieter moments and you always offered your shoulder to him – just to lean on and cry if necessary.

Of course, you wouldn’t think much of sleeping next to him. Your actions were platonic in nature and Ace would actually quit the crew if he made you uncomfortable in any way… but he almost got pulled back into reality when you innocently pointed at his own hammock, not knowing that he was lost in thought.

“Or do you wanna cuddle?”, you questioned innocently.

...And Ace choked on his own saliva. He just knew that his cheeks were crimson red and boiling. This was humiliating… he unusually had excellent control over his powers, but you rendered him completely powerless against you and you didn’t even know it!

…That being said, of course he wants to cuddle.

He lied down next to you and wrapped his arms around your torso, feeling just how warm you were and how your steady breathing immediately calmed him down. It was like a magical remedy, but he could feel his eyes flutter –

– and that’s when his eyes locked onto yours. You wore a precious smile and you seemed to glow next to him. That’s how happy you looked… absolutely stunning.

But he did almost faint when you leaned in to briefly peck his lips to tell him that you love him, too.

WAIT.

“TOO?!”

DOFLAMINGO

Your first kiss was… dangerous.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me! You cannot push me around, Doflamingo!”

You spit words of venom at him just after you realised that you were now working… directly under his command, just like he threatened.

Doflamingo, meanwhile, could only grin in amusement. Of course you thought he was bluffing, thinking of you as nothing more than a little plaything. Oh, how utterly wrong you were. He saw right through you – you were probably testing him, just like how he tested your loyalty. You wanted him to take the bait and push you away, just so you’d have a reason to close yourself off again and go solo. He knew those tactics by heart, sweetheart.

No, he wasn’t kidding when he said that you should be working for him. If you wanted to work, that is. You could just enter the family business, love, after all… you might as well be family at this point. Heh.

He’d entertain your need for independence for as long as you want him to, though. This is how he took notice of you after all.

So what if he stole you right out of another underground broker’s filthy pawns? They weren’t fit to stand next to you anyway. You outshone everybody… especially your former employer. Doflamingo’s been watching you for longer than you may have realised, just to find a flaw within you… but when he found none, the obsession swung in the opposite direction: He was no longer pettily snappish towards you for going after his clients to boost your boss’s image, sweetheart no… you were suddenly a woman worthy of his own calibre. No mistakes, no fear and… one glaringly obvious flaw turned asset – you trusted absolutely nobody.

And just like him, your desire for unmitigated loyalty was like a noose around your pretty neck.

You’d no longer have to deal with these rats who waste your talent away for arms deals that amount to nothing, you were meant to shape the new world order alongside yours truly.

You were just waiting for him.

“Say something!”

Doflamingo smirked before he walked up to you, grabbing your jaw with such speed that you barely had the time to react. It was laughable how he didn’t even have to activate his Devil Fruit powers to restrain you. His freakish height didn’t just give him the opportunity to loom over you, it also came with unimaginable strength. He could almost feel your jawbone crack under the pressure, but you would be caught dead before you uttered a single complaint.

“We crave the same thing, you and I. Letting you rot away pointlessly… might as well break my heart.”

A chuckle echoed through the otherwise empty room, but you weren’t amused at all. You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw. He could feel the muscles beneath his fingers contract and his pupils dilated at the sight and the sensation.

“How dramatic. Almost brought me to tears.”

Your sarcasm earned yourself a laugh. He let go of you, but you could very much feel a string attach itself to your hand. Doflamingo knew better than to turn you into his puppet, but he very much wanted to remind you of what he was capable of. You were above everybody else, but still beneath him. You don’t have to submit, but you should know when to behave.

“You’re the only one to speak to me like that.”, he noted nonchalantly, “And after we’ve been on a bunch of dates, too. Tragic. Woe is me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, sighing in defeat. You knew that he was right.

Yeah, he might have… pulled some strings to get you to agree to meeting him away from glamorous galas and dangerous deals, but he got to know you and your innermost desire. You wanted to trust someone wholeheartedly.

Well, Doflamingo happened to know just the guy.

“Dates where you’ve tried to kill yourself or me.”, you added just as coolly, voice monotone and face neutral. Totally befitting for a Queen.

“And you kept us both safe, my love.”

He licked his lips before breaking out in a dark chuckle that turned maniacal for just a moment. Oh, he was ecstatic that you’ve proven your loyalty towards him. You were everything he’s ever wanted.

“Now it’s my turn to protect you.”, he vowed before he kissed your hand, looking into your eyes while doing so.

Your pupils were blown out.

Bingo.

“Lean down.”, you calmly ordered.

And it’s one of the only commands he’s ever taken from someone else.

You gingerly kissed him, not even letting him taste a drop of your essence before you pulled away, smirking at him with self-satisfaction.

He turned his head with a smile until you blew him another kiss, turning heel and then walking to your new room.

Damn.

He just let go of the string holding onto you.

LAW

Your first kiss was… an accident.

Law had been pretty nervous about this.

He’s always been a profoundly reserved man who kept matters of the heart private, but he couldn’t deny that he was actually quite excited to take your relationship to the next level. He really, really trusted you – and now that he has you, he’s not going to let go. You’re his forever love now. After all, despite seeming like he couldn’t care less, he was a romantic deep down… and terribly inexperienced. It didn’t matter to him whether you were in the same boat or not, he couldn’t actually care less about that part; he was just insecure about making a decision on whether… he was ready at all to open up like that and offer his heart to you.

Law was very much self-aware and intelligent enough to recognise the signs: He wasn’t just in love with you; he truly loved you.

This bond ran deep.

And although he trusted you completely and wholeheartedly, he wasn’t sure if you wouldn’t be put off by that constant contradiction in his behaviour… most others judged it quite harshly, after all.

He didn’t reciprocate much, aside from talking. Yes, he held you in the privacy of his room and nuzzled his head against your neck, but if you wanted something like that, you could just pick up any stray cat from the streets.

He knew! He knew that it wasn’t enough, damn it. But it was just so hard to keep his composure whenever you placed a gentle kiss against his cheek and lovingly patted his spotted hat before placing those warm hands on his shoulders. You always squeezed him with so much affection and care that he just froze in shock.

The man who couldn’t even hold your hand in public loved you so purely that he wanted to kiss you? How ludicrous.

Most of the people who knew about your relationship probably thought that he was doing you a favour and entertaining the idea of a relationship without actual commitment, but… they had no idea. Absolutely no idea.

Even if he had trouble showing it, Law was proud to call himself your boyfriend. The thought alone made him bashful, though. His breath hitched, those tattooed fingers twitched very briefly before he closed his hand into a loose fist, rubbing his sweaty palms with his fingertips and he could hear his own heartbeat echo in his ear canals.

“I brought you tea, Law. You’re working so hard… don’t push yourself too far.”

…Yeah, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he didn’t get any work done today; his head was just in the clouds since he’s been too caught up in his own thoughts…about you. These maps weren’t studied at all – all he did was study how soft your lips would feel against his-

“Thank you, (Y/N)-ya.”, he tried to play it off smoothly, but he had to clear his throat after saying your name. His longing for you made his voice a lot softer, a lot more… vulnerable. He didn’t want to scare you off with his sudden change in behaviour, which meant that he had to keep his voice monotone at all cost.

Today, you put your hands on his shoulders first, causing Law to tense up immediately. He turned his head to hide his pathetic blush from you – immediately butting heads with you.

And-

Oh my God.

He tore his lips away from yours. That was so sloppy and clumsy, he-

Law is devastated. If you look closely, you could actually watch his soul leave this plane-

He looked at you, noting how your eyes swam around looking anywhere but him and that you couldn’t contain your smile. The corners of your mouth trembled before curling up into a sweet grin that had him melt on the spot.

“I’m sorry, Law, I didn’t mean to-”

Law couldn’t help but cut you off with a kiss that surprised the both of you. It wasn’t a good one; he was too nervous, too tense, his face was stiff and he couldn���t quite close his eyes, looking at you to burn this image into his mind instead.

You didn’t have to apologise. He didn’t want to make you feel like you had to feel sorry for anything – especially not something as meaningful as this.

Besides, the fact that you enjoyed it just as much and went lax in his arms was… everything.

ZORO

Your first kiss was… powerful.

“Again!”

“…”

“Again!”

“…”

“One more!”

“…Zoro.”

“Just once.”

“Zoro,” you sighed, “You need a break. You’ve been at it for hours now.”

Zoro knew that. God, did he know it. Frustrated with himself, he grunted lowly before lowering his swords. His jaw was already hurting from biting down on the blade’s handle for so long, but he couldn’t help himself.

He’s been living inside the crow’s nest for the past two days at this point.

Two days ago, you got hurt. It shouldn’t affect him this bad… Luffy got hurt, too, as did Usopp, but you were… his partner. Your injuries might as well have been cuts into his heart – he saw you fall into Franky’s arms with a nasty gnash right across your thigh. You were bleeding so much and that scream… it will haunt him now.

Someone thought that you were an easier target than Brook or Franky, who were standing firmly by your side as you bought time for Nami to set sail, protecting the Sunny from any assault raining down on you guys. Zoro could barely watch from the sidelines, too engrossed in fighting his own opponent as Luffy and Sanji took on their captain right next to him. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the Straw Hats could defeat any enemy with enough time and focus as everyone had their unique skill set and purpose, yet as soon as Zoro’s blades clashed against the fellow swordsman’s rapier, he heard your blood-curdling scream. It must have hurt so bad – he knew what deep cuts felt like and just how badly they burnt when saltwater got into the fresh wound, but he’d been training himself to deal with any bit of pain. You were never meant to be the recipient of an injury at the hands of another, because Zoro had sworn to himself that they’d have to go through him first.

But there were you – crying and hyperventilating as Franky tried applying pressure onto your seeping wound while Brook had to unsheathe his sword and cut down those enemies all by himself now…

Well, until Zoro zoomed across the battlefield with unprecedented fury, pushing himself to his very own limits.

Usually, the crew promised to minimise casualties. In a matter of life and death, of capture or kill, Luffy would always choose capture – he knew that some things had to be done, some sins had to be committed, but overall, you were all quite peaceful…

Until that scream.

“We can ask Sanji for a drink, you know… I bet he’d even make you a snack.”, you mused happily.

Zoro’s eyes snapped up and he calmly took a deep breath in, disguising it as an annoyed huff. You were fine. Well, as fine as you could be. Your leg was swollen and the blood has soaked through the bandages on your thigh, leaving a bit of red residue that perfectly mimicked the shape of your wound. Otherwise, you were okay. You had to redress that cut with fresh bandages every night because of the humid climate, but everything was okay.

Logically, your green-haired friend knew that there was nothing to worry about, but he couldn’t help but feel like a failure.

You were important to him! You… weren’t protected when you needed it the most.

You needed him and he wasn’t there.

You were damn good at what you do. That’s why Zoro often chose to hang off of you, following you around. It was so easy to be around you. Most often, you’d even talk to him… you knew very well that your swordsman wasn’t actually fast asleep, he was just preserving energy if it came down to the worst.

Ugh, it did come down to it and he wasn’t there.

Fucking-

“This isn’t about getting stronger, is it, Zoro?” Your hands grasped at his bulging forearms, strained from swinging his swords at the objects you threw all day, and you affectionately caressed his scarred flesh. You were even kind enough to offer him a sad smile.

“I… You… I… You’re important to me.”, he confessed through gritted teeth, averting his gaze. He tried to fight being obvious about it, but you could feel goosebumps rise beneath your warm hands even though he’d just finished a workout and was drenched in sweat.

“Zoro… You’re important to me, too. That’s why you shouldn’t beat yourself up over this. You were there, in the end, as you always are. I know I can rely on you.”

He shook his head in disapproval but leaned in to press his lips against yours. It was a measured kiss, just long enough to get you to briefly feel his plush lips and get especially close to him while your hands still held onto his arms.

And when you smiled, Zoro knew that… yes, you could rely on him. Forever.

[hot-celebrity-lover]

Thanks too all that voted, it's very much appreciated. I will now be posting "High Res Celebrity Pics" and "Gifs/Vidz"

[snapscube]

immediately knew i had to draw her ,, very cute design !! ^^

AHHHHHH???????? THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD I'M SCREAMING 😭😭😭 THE FULL COLOR PIECE IS GORGEOUS AND THE SKETCHES!! AHH!! THANK U SO MUCH YOU BLESS ME

[blackbat05]

Fateful Encounters

Joaquin Torres x Reader

Plot: After a hard week at the library, you meet an enigmatic stranger with the help of your beloved dog. During TFATWS timeline.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: And I’m going to watch him on big screen today?!!!?Was in a funk so really glad I got this out! This is a complete rewrite to (Mixup) So excited to see him on Big Screen too after writing for him for so long! Enjoy!!! Tag: @the-slumberparty for 2025 challenge!

“Thanks for today!” You call out to Sophie who urges you to get out of the library and enjoy the weekend.

“Hey! Thanks for bringing Bubbles! They really loved her at the session today.” Sophie bends down to give my lovely Goldie, Bubbles a head pat. “You did such a good job!” She addresses the joyful pooch who gives a bark of acknowledgement.

You bid Sophie goodbye and lead Bubbles out into the cold evening of New York for a hearty dinner and another job well done for the week at the library.

“Well done girl! Where shall we go?” You ask Bubbles who gives a tug on her leash, leading you down the familiar path to both your favourite cafe near the library. “Of course, why did I even ask.” You smiled.

The cafe that you frequented when you first arrived in the bustling city was starting to become crowded on a Friday evening. Family and friends gathered to enjoy the start of a weekend. Bubbles obediently waits in line as you ordered a chicken rice bowl for yourself and a specially curated shredded chicken and pepperoni pizza for Bubbles who is almost pulling you the other direction the moment you finished payment.

“Girl! Slow down. There’s still seats.” You were confused at her sudden excitement at something. You follow her line of sight only to see a lone man gazing out of the window, lost in thought. Bubbles continues to drag you towards the said man, much to your horror.

“Bubbles! No! There’s other seats! We’re not disturbing the poor man!” You hissed under your breath. Unfortunately, it falls on deaf ears as Bubbles only becomes stronger. “Bubbles! Oh- hi!”

You quickly revert to what you assume is a calm and composed version of yourself when internally, you’re freaking out. For a very good reason.

The man was gorgeous. As in, breathtakingly gorgeous. Donning a black leather jacket, you were mesmerized by his hazel coloured eyes that just sucked you in with each passing minute. It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, his soft lips catching your attention…

Bubbles nudges you hardly on the shin and you snap out of your lovesick induced haze. It is then that you notice that the man’s right eye is recovering from a bad bruise. You’re left to wonder what was the story behind that but you quickly pull yourself together because this is not the time to be ogling at the man like he’s an animal at the zoo. You certainly didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not sure why Bubbles is acting this way.” You apologized. “We’ll just find a seat and be on our way.” You try to tug on Bubble’s leash without much success. Bless the man, he doesn’t seem bothered at all by your sudden appearance. In fact, he offers you the seat across from him. “It’s getting crowded, please.”

You thank him and quickly settle down across him. Bubbles takes no time in trotting over to her new found friend, resting her snout on his lap. “She likes you.” You observed. The man gives Bubbles a rub, much to her delight. “She never warms up to anyone that quickly before.”

“Well then, I must be a very lucky person.” He cracks a small smile before introducing himself. “Where are my manners? My name is Joaquin Torres.” Joaquin offers a handshake.

“Y/N L/N. We just came from the public library down the street.”

For the next few minutes, you fall into easy conversation about your job as a library assistant at the children’s section. You were absolutely out of luck when you were trying to search for a job fresh out of university. Although you could have gone into the corporate world and land a cushy job, you never felt that it was right for you to begin with. Your true passion lied with books and connecting with people about them. So one day, when you were absolutely tired of having to spend the whole day in front of a computer sending out resumes after resumes, you decided to head to the public library for a much needed escape.

“And lucky me, I saw the advert for the job. So here I am.” You beam inwardly at the memory. It was incredible really, how far you’ve come since then. “That’s enough about me, I would like to know more about you.” You say sincerely.

Joaquin fiddles with his teaspoon and you wonder if you’ve crossed the line. You start to open your mouth to apologize but it’s as if he can read your mind. “It’s only fair.” He brushes away your apology reassures that you’re not forcing him.

“I used to be in the military, Air Force.” Joaquin tells you. “It was the best time of my life. But seeing people die, that chipped away at my soul.” A moment of silence passes, perhaps for the lives that were lost.

“This?” He points to his bruise. “I got it while on a mission in Europe. I was there for surveillance, but innocent civilians died on my watch by a group of terrorists claiming that they were making the world better.” Joaquin tells me bitterly. Bubbles gets up and presses her body against Joaquin’s legs, as if she could sense the agitation radiating from him. He looks down and gives her another rub of thanks.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to go through something so horrific. Thank you for telling me.”

“It was actually something that I needed to do actually.” Joaquin confesses. “My Captain encouraged me to get therapy but it didn’t sit right with me.” He laughs at the thought. “I should thank you for sharing as well. It mustn’t have been easy, how you got here today.”

You were oddly pleased at Joaquin’s compliment. You knew that already, but having someone like Joaquin to acknowledge your struggles made you feel a connection with him.

As the customers continued to stream in and out of the cafe, you sat across the charming stranger-now-turned friend, sharing experiences living in the bustling Big Apple.

Bubbles whine, signaling that she was started to feel cooped out under the table. “Oh, I think that’s my signal.” You carefully eased the dog under the table. “Thank you for the company and conversation. I really needed that.”

“Same here. Take care.”

You stepped out into the chilly evening, heading back in the direction of your apartment. As you arrived back home, you let out a gasp of realization, causing Bubbles to be alarmed.

“Oh no! I forgot to ask him his number!” You groaned. Joaquin was a genuinely nice guy - a rare one these days. A rare one that you carelessly let out of your grasp like a slippery fish.

Hitting your head on the back of the sofa, you turned to Bubbles. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be huh girl?”

Bubbles let’s out a bark, bringing your backpack that you take to work everyday. Confused, you open up the bag, figuring that Bubbles wants to play with her blue plastic ball. Not that you were in a mood to play anyways. But dogs didn’t know that.

As you were about to throw the ball for Bubbles to fetch, she let’s out another bark. It is then you realized that there’s a white piece of paper sticking out of the ball’s cap. Unscrewing it open, a piece of paper that was ripped out from the order sheet at the cafe falls out. Opening it, you find a signature with a couple of words inside:

“Hey Y/N, I had a really great time talking to you. I know it sounds bonkers but I think I’ve hit it off with you and I don’t want this to be our only time. I don’t want to be a weirdo (or stalker) so this is my number. Call me when you’re ready.”

You hold the piece of paper in your hands, smiling from ear to ear. Perhaps you look a little deranged but the idea of Joaquin feeling the same way that you did was a god send. It really was a no brainer as to what you were going to do next.

Taking a deep breath, you dial his number that was given and hit the camera function while praying for the best.

After three rings, Joaquin picks up, his boyish features lighting up at the sight of you. Needless to say, it made you feel incredible. “I was praying that it wasn’t an unsuspecting old lady.” You crack a joke that earns a hearty laughter from the man.

“I’m glad you called.”

“So did I.”

Joaquin grins at your confession. “So… are you doing anything next weekend? I was thinking I could take you and Bubbles to this famous steak place.” It was adorable to see Joaquin nervous as he waits for your response. Joaquin must have sensed the cogs in your brain turning so he quickly adds, “I swear I’m not weird or anything. It’s just that I really liked talking to you that day and Bubbles! But if you don’t want to, I understand.”

“Joaquin!” You get his attention to stop him from rambling further.

“Yeah?”

“I was going to say yes either way.”

Joaquin blinks, slowly registering your words. “Great! That’s great! Um, bring Bubbles too! I want to see her again.”

You glance down at your beloved pooch who is wagging her tail at Joaquin’s voice.

“Oh she will. She’s definitely excited to see you too.” You laugh and pause for a moment, unsure if it’s too fast to say this. But hey, life is fleeting as it comes. So screw it.

“I’m excited to see you as well.”

[k-hotchoisan]

Hear me out... yeosang greek mythology-esque AU where every few decades a maiden is sent as a sacrifice to the one they believe is the god of love and fertility. A very confused deity yeosang usually just rolls with it and puts these young ladies to sleep for a night ot two before returning them to their people (cuz that one time he just sent someone back the entire village panicked and blamed her for not being a "good enough offering" and he felt bad for a century). But this time... for some reason... he just can't take his eyes off the sleeping girl before him (there can be backstory here like he's met her before while parading as a mortal or sumin idk) and decides... maybe this time he'll keep her...

alrighty aphrodite

<yeosang x fem!reader>

every eleven years, a young maiden is chosen as sacrifice for the god of love and fertility, at least they think they do, only for Yeosang to put the sacrificed maiden to sleep because he doesn't want to deal with them.

but when it’s you being chosen to be the next maiden, Yeosang decides, maybe this time, he’s gonna keep you for himself instead.

Genre/warnings: smut with plot, (kinda) Greek god au deity yeosang x maiden!reader, mentioned elements of sacrifice (though not too heavy nor gory), unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, masturbation (m), obsessive softdom! Yeosang, he’s actually fucking whipped for you, praise kink, mentions of virginity (where reader is NOT but it’s not elaborated further), yearning!yeosang

wc: 6k

a/n: I’m sorry this took SO long to develop. Truth to be told, this prompt has been stuck at the back of my mind and boy, I really wanted to make this beauty work. Also a special thanks to @bro-atz for helping me develop (this is for you as well hehe) Enjoy! 🩷

Walking through the cold and pale marble temple, you watch the way the vines curl around the pillars, creeping its way up to get some sun. The temple is insanely huge, standing tall thanks to blocky pillars, with intricate carvings, which you identify as white marble being slowly overtaken by soft moss and stubborn vines. 

You know, despite the gorgeous temple, its practices to serve Aphrodite were but.

Despite the anxiety you feel, you know you could do not much to fight against the elders and their ridiculous traditions. For centuries, chosen maidens by the fertility deity have been offered to appease the gods for the blessings of fertility of the town’s land and women every 11 years. No one knew how the gods looked like, but it seemed that every time a maiden was sent, the fields would bloom and flourish, couples would be blessed with a pregnancy. 

Of course, why wouldn’t they continue this ridiculous tradition?

And this year, you were chosen. 

You remember the last conversation you had with your mother before you had stepped foot into the temple. 

“I’ll come back mother. Weren’t there rumours that one of the maidens managed to come back?”

Your mother’s index finger flew to her lips. “Be careful of what you utter, my daughter. They don’t like the reminder that their choice was rejected.” 

You blinked at her, recalling the incident where one of the maidens got “returned” right after the ceremony and from what you could remember, led the elders to grow furious on top of anxious, then demanding that another sacrifice to be made, since the maiden was now considered “rejected” by the deity. The poor girl. Surely this deity couldn’t be that picky, right? 

You continue to thread the path before you, the soles of your feet getting used to the coldness of the marble floor by now. 

You enter the fountain room, and as its title, sits a large marble fountain, a statue lady draped over with a long piece of fabric looking down onto three cupids that spit out water, while she, herself pours water out of a vase.  

The sound of flowing water could honestly put you to sleep, if it wasn’t a curt reminder that you’re meant to drown here. Rose petals decorate and almost fully cover the surface of the bottomless fountain. Maybe it was a ploy to at least relax the previous maidens. There are a handful of people, all dressed in white robes that hide their faces, while the elders are dressed in ivory.

“There she is. Beautiful y/n”, the elder woman smiles, the emotion not reaching her eyes. You force a smile back. “Come, the water’s not cold.”

You dip your toes in. 

The water is fucking cold. 

“Think of it as a blessing to us, that you’re doing a gracious service to the village”, another elder curtly reminds you while she tosses more rose petals into the fountain. 

Two other women lie you down onto the water and more petals are strewn across the surface. Your hair is wet by now and so is your dress. You cringe at how cold the water is biting against your skin but you bear with it. 

The older woman turns around.

“We are gathered here today to witness the blessing Aphrodite will be giving us. We pray that the maiden reaches the goddess safely and may she stay in good hands”, she announces with clasped hands. 

“May Aphrodite bless us all.” She yells, her hands raised to the heavens, before the two hooded elders beside her shove your body into the fountain, sinking you to the depths, the last thing you’re hearing are loud chants that gradually become muted as you slowly accept your fate. 

A familiar hymn plays, and it catches Yeosang’s attention. 

“The maiden offering is here”, his Cupid announces. 

Yeosang only sighs in defeat, annoyed that his rose gardening has been interrupted, muttering how these mortals were being ridiculous, while still walking over to his marble foundation, careful not the crush the roses that had fallen onto the grass. 

“I genuinely have no idea how to stop these people from sending women down the fountain”, he complains to nobody in particular. 

“Why not just appear in front of them and tell them you’re the deity?” The little Cupid suggests as he floats beside Yeosang. 

He turns to his minion with folded arms. “No way. These people would pelt me with stones before they even decide to give me a chance to prove that I am. I’ll just do the usual.”

“Put them to sleep and then tie a red string on their ankles?”

“-to make sure they don’t get hurt or freak out or something. Then send them back up when enough time has passed.”, he continues with a small pout. “I’m still shocked at the way they freaked out when I sent the previous one back four decades ago.”

The Cupid purses his lips, listening to Yeosang rant about this for the nth time ever since he took over the temple and the rituals started every 11 decades as they near the fountain. 

He continues his rant up till he reaches the fountain. “Besides, none of them they send are ever my cup of tea. I’m sure this one’s not any-“

Then Yeosang immediately quietens down when his eyes land on the sleeping maiden before him. His Cupid casts him a confused glance, then back to the maiden on the fountain, wondering what suddenly silenced Yeosang. 

It’s just another maiden, his Cupid thinks. 

On the contrary, Yeosang can’t seem to keep his eyes off the maiden who’s unconscious, covered in rose petals like the previous maidens. What made her so different? He doesn’t know, but there’s a strange tinge of familiarity when he rests his eyes on your sleeping figure. 

The cupid’s eyes widen when Yeosang personally picks you up from the water with his bare hands. He never did that to the previous maidens, for he would complain about getting his robes wet. 

He sets you down on the cloud bed, watching how you’re breathing softly while he waits for the cupids to hand him a spare robe for you to change into. 

“Yeosang, aren’t you gonna change out?” His Cupid asks as he hands Yeosang the fresh set of robes. 

You stir from your slumber, feeling softness against your skin. You slowly open your eyes, before you remember what happened, and you shoot up, soaking in the unfamiliar environment surrounding you. It’s a beautiful, spacious, and airy room. Your eyes land on a male who’s fitting stalks of roses into a glass vase. 

“In a bit”, Yeosang replies, his eyes not lifting from you. 

He turns to you just in time, and you freeze. 

Oh gods, he’s stunning. His eyes are a shade of gray that makes him look all the more dreamy, and his lashes are long. His hair is a soft platinum blonde, contrasted by the bright red roses that rest on his hair. He looks like a statue himself. 

“You’re awake”, he greets with a curt nod. 

“You’re-“

“—Aphrodite‘s descendant, Deity Kang Yeosang”, the flying child announces. 

“Oh! Pardon my rudeness, Deity”, you squeak, going on your knees, your hands on the cold, marble ground. 

But Yeosang has his hands around you, lifting you up. “You don’t need to-“

“Oh but I should. You’ve been blessing our village with bountiful fields and beautiful children. It’s only right that I bow on their behalf”, you insist. Yeosang is speechless, mostly because it’s the first time that he has allowed a maiden to be conscious around his quarters, and that he’s speaking to one. He doesn’t really know what to do, let alone why he even did that in the first place. 

Yeosang looks away sheepishly. “It’s part of my job. Please, you may rise.” Despite his seemingly soft demeanour, you realise how chiseled his arms are, his muscles lifting you up together with him. When you’re finally facing him, you can’t help but wonder if this was the view that every maiden had—and that maybe it’s not so bad after all. 

Yeosang practically gave you the living quarters you woke up in, in which you were obviously thankful, offering for any help in exchange for it. Yeosang declined but you insisted, telling him you should repay him, so he decides to let you tend to one of his rose gardens around the temple.

It had been a few days since. 

By then, you had warmed up to the deity, spending time with him in the gardens, exchanging stories. Through these interactions, you realise how mellow and soft Yeosang is—usually stories of gods warn of them being picky, petty and sometimes, even wrathful. Yeosang didn’t seem to tick all of these boxes. It seemed like he would rather tend to his myriad rose gardens and caring for his cupids.

“Has anyone told you you’re absolutely beautiful, Yeosang?” You say, missing the way his ears are turning as pink like the roses that lie on his head. The both of you are cutting off the fresh buds that bloomed to collect the petals that afternoon. 

Yeosang’s cheeks flushes, rubbing the nape of his neck with a smile. It’s no different from what he always hears, especially as Aphrodite’s descendant, but to hear it from you makes him feel flustered for some reason.

“I mean not just how you look, but the way you treat the things around you.” 

“I’m not following”, a confused Yeosang replies, and it makes you giggle. 

“I’m saying, you’re gentle and kind too.” 

Gentle and kind. Of course he is, considering that has been something he’s been his whole life. It’s well known how much of a temperamental and petty his ascendant had been known to be, and he knows he’s not like that.

Distracted by his thoughts, he feels a sharp pain shoot in his finger. He flinches and pulls his hand away, realising his finger has been cut by a rose thorn.

This has never happened before. 

"Are you okay? Let me see-" you interject, taking his hand to inspect if the cut was deep, and you instinctually place his finger against your lips to suck on his skin. 

Yeosang's heartbeat is climbing at an exponential rate right now, wondering why do your lips feel so soft. Would it feel as soft if it wasn't just on his fingers? How would you taste against him?

"Are you okay, Yeosang?" your voice snaps him out of his rapidly growing crooked thoughts. His eyes meet yours and he forces a smile, letting himself enjoy the way you're gently stroking his fingers. He thinks it feels nice.

"It doesn't hurt. Don't worry", his voice lowers a pitch, his gaze softening as he watches the way your hands go from stroking his injured finger to playing around with the rest of his fingers, thinking it would help ease the sting. 

Yeosang places his hand on your cheek, gently stroking against your skin and his smile spreads to you. 

“Thank you. I’ll go and wash the wound. Don’t worry about it, really. It’s just a small cut”, he assures, almost reluctant to leave your side when you let him go, and he walks back to his chambers.

As he rinses his hands, Yeosang's cupid floats to his side, watching the way his deity has his eyes locked onto the maiden.

“You haven't sent her back up, Yeosang. I’ve never seen you do that.” 

Yeosang doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know what to reply. 

There is silence for a while, as the Cupid watches Yeosang bloom the roses.

“How long will you keep her?”

Yeosang watches the way you smell the roses from his bedroom window. His heart flutters. 

“For a little longer.”

You watch the rain fall and hit the leaves from the window of your room. The room is spacious, much too spacious for your liking. It wasn't you that you didn't hate being in the temple, having Yeosang and his little Cupids around were comforting, but during some days, the thorns of being home sick would prick you. 

Something is starting to bubble in Yeosang when his thoughts drift to you as night falls. Unfortunately, he seems to have realised it too late. 

Undoubtedly, the incident of Yeosang getting pricked by his rose bushes closed the distance between the both you. And that night, you realise you didn’t want to sleep alone. 

That night, Yeosang is still up, his concentration on finishing a book he had bought from the mortal realm. Then he hears a soft knock on his open door. 

His gazes flies to his door, his heart speeding up when he sees that it’s you standing at his doorway. 

“Is it okay for me to intrude?” You ask. “I feel lonely in such a big room.”

Yeosang blinks before remembering to respond. 

“Sure. There’s plenty of space on the bed”, he offers, shifting uselessly on the large bed to make space for you. You break into a smile, crawling into his shared space, the comfort of having Yeosang by your side already easing your worries. 

“What are you reading?” You ask, peeking over to his book trapped in his long fingers. 

He tips the book to show you the cover. 

“I got it at the marketplace.”

Your eyes brighten. 

“Right! You can travel to the mortal realm”, you remember him briefly mentioning it to you. 

He nods. “I can bring you back to the village from time to time to get stuff if you want.”

“You can bring me back?”

“I try to, discreetly, I guess. The mortals in the village for some reason didn’t like it when I brought back one of the maidens back directly once.”

Suddenly, the pieces start to fall into place. It’s all starting to make sense. 

Yeosang doesn’t realise he’s frowning. “You…yearn to go back there?” The words taste bitter in his mouth while he waits for your answer. 

“Well, I’ve grown rather attached to this place actually. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go back from time to time. You can send me back whenever you’re ready to, Yeosang”, you reply. 

Oh gods. Yeosang was internally preparing for the worst but for now, he’s satisfied with whatever arrangement he has with you. He’s never had a maiden stay longer than this, and he’s getting very comfortable with your companionship. 

You stifle a yawn, eyelids growing heavy. Your fingers brush against his playfully, and it gets his attention even though his eyes are empty on the pages of his book.

“You’re my favourite thing about this temple”, you mutter, shutting your eyes. Yeosang freezes in his spot, his heart hammering in his chest. 

“I think you’re my favourite thing about being a deity”, is his delayed reply. When he turns to gaze upon you, you’re asleep—comfortable and calm—just a hair’s breadth away from him. 

That night, he had the most comfortable night of sleep since the past few decades. 

Since then, your own bed in your quarters grew cold, and Yeosang’s bed only grew warmer as you continued to seek comfort with the deity. 

Yeosang wouldn’t lay his hands on you, even though he was fine with your small touches. He’d grown accustomed to it. 

Nonetheless, it doesn’t change the fact that his heartbeat accelerates when he feels you shift closer to him and lean your head against his arm or shoulder—whichever you felt like it—while you join him in reading whatever novel he has his nose buried into. 

Your hair brushes gently against his skin again, and it’s making him more jumpy than usual for some reason. Is it the way that he’s conscious of how physically close you are to him? Is it the way that your scent surrounds him like a veil recently? Is it the way your laughter sounds more beautiful than the hymns the harps could play?

He glances down at you, realising you’ve fallen into slumber, your breathing light. Yeosang smiles, his gaze landing on your face. 

Then the scent of you hits—sweet and intense—it makes Yeosang’s mind cloud. He feels his body warm up, and his eyes trail down from your face to your bare shoulders—where the strap of your nightgown had slipped past your shoulder—the lace trimming of your nightwear had lowered down your chest, revealing your soft breasts just shy of your nipples—

Fuck. Yeosang’s mind is on its road to being a goner. The discomfort that’s starting to bulge against his robes being the biggest indicator. 

He seeps deeper into his twisted fantasies, letting his hand slip down to palm his thickness, groans leaving his lips soft and controlled enough so that he doesn’t wake you up. His suppressed fantasies start to bubble to the surface—flashes of you in between his legs, your tongue lapping his nectar from his base to the tip, then struggling to take his cock full into your pretty mouth. Shit. It’s driving him to the edge. Yeosang swallows hard. He knows that everything about this is so wrong, but he can’t help it. The pleasure trickling into his veins and the risk of getting caught if he’s too loud—it only adds onto the rush that his cock is feeling, and he’s fucking loving it.

The robe is slowly shed off his chiseled body, the speed of his hand fucking his cock increasing when his fantasies start turning to you above him, settling onto his cock, eyes so glazed out and pretty for him while he spilts you open. He dreams of melting into your velvet heat and it only makes more precum leak out of his cockhead while he struggles to keep his breathing slow. 

He eyes flutter shut, a strained moan slipping past his lips. He doesn’t know how you’re not being awoken by now, but frankly, he doesn’t care. 

And when you shift in your sleep slightly, accompanying your movements with a sleepy groan, it only makes Yeosang’s predicament worse. He watches the way your top has completely slipped down, your nipple growing perky and hard from the cool air. Oh, what he’d do get a taste of it between his lips. 

The sounds of his hand fucking grow louder when his thoughts grow wilder when he wonders how you’d taste between your legs—sweet like the nectar of the roses you grow for him maybe. 

The precum seeping only grows white and thicker, the sensitivity burning through his body, making Yeosang press his head deeper against his pillows, his hand movements more desperate.

When his fantasies reach to one of you cumming and fluttering with tears in your eyes on his cock, Yeosang bursts with a broken cry of your name, his white and thick cum making a mess of his body and undone robe. His breathing is shaky, staring at the thick cum that stained his hand under the silver moonlight. 

It was then the realisation looms over him--there's no way it's possible to send you back up. Not when the need to hear you scream and cry his name is creeping into his veins like the thorny vines of his rose bush. 

“With all these roses around, doesn’t Yeosang get sick of the smell?” You ask the Cupid while your hands are busy snipping off the buds. 

He shrugs. “I guess he’s used to it.”

The Cupid casts another glance to the rose bush, furrowing his eyebrows, seemingly reflecting his confusion. 

“Although, you’re not wrong—the roses recently seem to smell stronger, and I’ve never seen buds this dark before.”

“Something wrong with the roses?” You hear the soft deep voice echo through your ears. 

“Yeosang!”, you exclaim, realising the subtle change in him—the roses that sit around his pale hair like flower crown are now as dark as the roses on the rose bush. 

You absentmindedly reach out to touch the roses on his hair, amazed by the deep crimson hue. “No, Cupid and I were just mesmerised at how pretty the dark roses are, actually.”

His smile fills your stomach with butterflies. 

“Were you? I’m glad you and Cupid seem to like them.”

Yeosang lets his hands linger on your cheek for a moment longer, his warm spreading through your skin. 

“I’ll see you tonight as usual, y/n?” 

You nod, but for some reason, the expression Yeosang casts you sets a whole cage of butterflies into your stomach. 

He’s satisfied with your answer and he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to your temple, the smell of roses floating around you, before he strolls back to his quarters, humming to himself. 

For some reason, something feels a little different that night. 

You walk into Yeosang’s chambers as usual, as you always do. He has his novel in his hands, but his eyes glance at you at his doorway the moment he feels your presence. 

You slide into his bed, like you always have done, noticing the comforting warmth that the deity radiated seemed slightly a little hotter than usual. But you attribute it to the fact that it had been pouring quite a bit lately, including tonight. 

The moment you crawled into Yeosang's space, he has his palm spread over your exposed thigh, his warmth spreading across your skin. 

“Isn't someone eager today”, you tease, absentmindedly returning his touch, much to Yeosang's surprise. 

“It's been cold lately, and your warmth is the only thing I've grown used to”, Yeosang replies with a gentle smile, and it makes your stomach burst with butterflies. 

“As with you”, you giggle, inching closer to the male. 

Yeosang reflects your bloom with a soft smile, before his attention returns to his book. You rest yourself against his arm, as you always do.

This night, Yeosang realises he can't concentrate on reading, not when he's hyper aware of the floral shampoo that's emitting off you. You've always been using the same floral shampoo, so why does the smell seem to come off stronger this time?

His thoughts are then interrupted when he hears you soft sigh as you shift your weight against his arm, his eyes locked at the way the strap of your nightgown slips past your shoulder once more, the gown dropping slightly lower, barely revealing your soft and perky nipples.

Yeosang doesn't realise his fingers are clamping onto the pages, hard. 

He averts his gaze back to the book that he knows it's pointless to get back to, so he shuts it.

Your eyes rake over his bothered expression, and your mind swims with worry.

“Are you okay, Yeosang?”

Yeosang turns his attention to you, forcing a smile. His words come out uncertain, “of course. I just need a breather. Give me a second, y/n.” He drops the book onto his nightstand before he leaves the bed to the balcony. You decide it's best to leave him be, while you keep yourself busy with the pile of books Yeosang bought for you on his nightstand.

Yeosang is barely confident that he's finally composed himself, but he decides to enter his room once he feels his heart gradually slow. He brushes off the crimson rose petals that had landed on his shoulder.

Since when have his petals gotten this red? 

He returns back to his room, and all of that self preservation immediately falls apart when the view before him on his bed is you–relaxed, with the sheets off you, your bare legs in full view for him to take in, your sheer nightgown bunched up to your thighs as your nose is deep into your novel. 

Yeosang remains silent as he inches towards to your side of the bed, and his movements definitely catch your attention. You look up and your eyes meet his, trailing him as he slowly settles down right in front of you. 

“Can I help you?” You tease, shutting the book. Yeosang doesn't answer, but rather, he lets his fingers dance along your leg, and up until he pauses at your knee.

You watch the way his eyes glimmer against the moonlight, then how it highlights his features like a marble statue. 

He's leaning closer.

His eyes are downcast for a second before they find the resolve to meet yours.

“Could I…?” he mutters, shyness reflected in his gaze. 

His palm is flat against your knee now, and he's warm to the touch.

You're suddenly feeling curious yet shy. You lower your gaze when you feel his palm press against your cheek, then lean in. His hands feel like comfort. Your eyes flutter open and you meet Yeosang’s stare.

His mind is going haywire when you look at him like that.

There is tension in the air, silence so loud you could hear two hearts fluttering if you listened hard enough. 

“Please”, you reply softly, loud enough for him to hear.

Before you could process it, Yeosang leans in for a deep kiss, determined to steal your breath and heart away as his lips collide against yours. He traps you against the bed, and your hands are around his neck, slowly lingering on his soft locks of hair. 

Red petals are slowly filling up the white spaces on the white sheets as Yeosang grows greedy–he’s pulled away from your lips, now he's messing with your cheek, then your jawline, then down your neck. His hands are going down. You gasp when you feel him cup your breasts. There's no way he doesn't feel your nipples grow harder through the thin fabric, and he makes full use of it to pinch and roll in between his fingertips, the sparks going right to your soaked pussy.

Yeosang lets you off momentarily, and the strange glint in his eyes don't go unnoticed by you. Too caught up in the moment though, you let him continue with whatever he wants to do. He continues kissing down south, teasing you with the fact that he's not letting his lips touch your skin directly. Every soft gasp and sigh he hears from you is his reward.

Then, he stops right at the wet patch of fabric in between your legs.

You swear his eyes form hearts. 

“You're already so wet for me?” He asks, which doesn't come off much as a question. His finger grazes along the damp fabric, and the wetness spreads even more. It’s driving Yeosang off the edge. You're driving Yeosang off the edge.

All Yeosang is thinking is that you're such a perfect gift. He wouldn't have asked for more.

The perfect offering. 

Perfect for him to ruin.

A thought crosses Yeosang’s mind–how far can he get your thin and useless panties soaked? He nuzzles against the warm and sticky fabric, trying his best to ignore the way his cock is just painfully throbbing to be let out. 

“Yeosang–!” You cry out, accidentally flattening some of the roses in his hair when the sensitivity bursts dully in your pussy. 

You're suddenly feeling self-conscious even though your mind is slowly sinking into the sins Yeosang is gravitating you into. 

Your cunt is getting soaked by the second, to the point your panties have pretty much grown transparent, so sticky and wet from your cream.

It doesn't change the fact that worries still flicker in and out of your mind. 

You're not a virgin. Would Yeosang approve of that? Would he be disgusted that you aren't?

You feel his fingers slither up your thighs, his thump hooking onto the waistband of your panties before he completely pulls your panties off, your pulsing wet pussy blooming like the most gorgeous flower Yeosang's ever seen.

Before Yeosang’s ready to reward himself, you squeeze your thighs, stopping him. 

He looks up at you, his eyes slowly glazed over, waiting for you to let him.

How is he so patient?

“I’m not a virgin—“

“It doesn't matter, darling”, Yeosang cuts you off while he presses his nose against your supple thighs, taking in a sharp inhale, letting your scent turn him dizzy. “I’ve always dreamed of hearing you scream my name when I’m fucking you.”

You struggle to keep your breathing in check, dazed and taking in this newfound side of Yeosang that seemingly bloomed from nowhere. 

“I'll make you feel so good, darling”, he promises, a teasing lick just to the side of your pussy, and your rationale completely dissolves. 

Yeosang pulls your legs apart, smiling against your skin when you don't offer resistance, then he presses his tongue against your wet cunt. 

You taste like heaven, is what is repeating in Yeosang’s head, over and over. He wants to make sure he sucks you dry. You squirm against him, the pleasure building recklessly whenever Yeosang drives his tongue against your clit, your moans turning into a mix of cries. Your wetness isn't drying up anytime soon, that's for sure. 

“So fucking good. Y-Yeosang…”, your lashes are wet, and with every flick of his tongue on your clit, it builds so fucking good that your legs have completely spread open for Yeosang, your cunt shamelessly leaking more creamy nectar for Yeosang to indulge in. He brings his tongue up to your clit once more, dragging the soft muscle against it. 

“You're so close, aren't you? Your sweetness is just getting better”, Yeosang hums. 

Your fingers clutch against the soft pillows under you, your mind slowly starts to blank and break. It feels so fucking good that Yeosang has to hold your hips down so he can tongue fuck you better.

“Be a good girl for me–cum as hard as you want.”

A choked sob echoes in his chambers while you go completely undone–shaking and pulsing against his tongue, your vision washed out by white as the pleasure seeps into each nerve and crevice of your brain. 

Yeosang is still lapping your cream up, dizzy from how you cummed all over his face. He really wants to make you do that over and over again until you break.  

The remnants of your orgasm and the overstimulation has you twitching in the best ways possible. You halt Yeosang–stealing his attention with your fingers under his chin. Yeosang looks up at you, burying his cheek against your palm while his tongue peeks out past his lips to lick the off the remainder of your cream on his face. Your thumb caresses his soft cheek and Yeosang appeases you for a moment before he climbs over you, his palm covering your wrist, guiding you down to the knot of his robe. Your fingers grab onto the loose end and you tug–his robe completely loosens. He leans in closer, letting your hands wander his body, flicking the robe away until Yeosang is fully naked before you.

He's nothing short of a marble statue–everything about him is completely ethereal. As much as you’re admiring his bare body,  your eyes can't help but wander to his thick cock. Even his cock is so pretty especially when it's glistening and hard, in a sheen of precum.

His voice is deeper now and it tickles your ears.

“I don't think I can go slow on you, my love”, Yeosang mutters, before he presses his lips onto the back of your hand. His crimson eyes meet yours, and your heart skips a beat. 

“I don't wanna.”

He fits a pillow under your hips, and his cock is easily resting right at your pulsing, wet hole. 

“Wanna feel you all the way, Yeosang. You can go as deep as you want”, you whisper, just craving to be fucked now. 

Yeosang smiles in reply, before he lines himself to your cunt and pushes himself in an inch or two.

A curt “fuck” slips past your lips, and your abdomen tenses once Yeosang starts fitting more of himself into your tight hole. 

“Gods, you feel so fucking amazing. So fucking warm for me”, Yeosang curses, his fingertips pressing onto your hips to keep any remainder of his sanity intact. 

When he finally has his dick fully fit in you, you look like you're about to cry. 

His fingers brush your cheek.

“Are you okay there?”

You nod. “You just feel so full in me.” Yeosang laughs, then groans when you squeeze him again.

“I'm gonna start moving.”

The lewd sounds of skin slapping start filling up the room once more, one wetter than the other. 

His thrusts have you clawing the sheets once more, eyes rolled back and pussy clamping him down for more.

He grunts at the way you're squeezing him.

“I'll fill you up so good, my love. Make you so swollen–full of my pretty little offspring just for you to bear”, he mutters in your ear. 

Your head is spinning as the pleasure builds up in your abdomen once more every time his cock hits your g-spot. The thought of Yeosang making sure you're leaking full of his seed, that he wants to breed you so badly throws out any rational thought out of your head. You want it so fucking bad too. 

“You feel so better than heaven, you know?” He manages, the thread of his rationale thinning the more he's fucking into you. “I really want you all to myself.”

His thrusts are getting heavier and every time his cockhead presses onto your g-spot, it sends you into an orbit. You're seeing fucking stars or flowers–they’re starting to look the fucking same at this rate.

“Yeosang!”, you cry out, your toes curling from the pleasure hitting you over and over again. You leave light marks down his pale skin. Your cunt has him tight in you, and it makes him dazed. His moans are filling up your ears while his cum fills up your pussy. 

The high slowly descends, leaving both of you catching your breaths, his face in your hands, eyes locked onto each other. You watch the dark red in his eyes slowly lighten but still remain red. 

Had he always donned such deep red eyes? 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, letting his fingers travel down the curves of your body.

You giggle tiredly, “a little sleepy.”

He covers your eyes with his slender fingers. “Then rest

Yeosang stares at the way you slowly sink into your slumber, huddled close to him. 

He brushes away the blood red rose petals that fall on your shoulders. 

I can’t help it if I adore you this much. I’m keeping you for a little longer. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, right? 

💘bonus epilogue💘

Yeosang knew he was about to be chided for always escaping his duties by hiding in the mortal world. Not that Eros would care anyway. 

No human comes around here, and that’s another reason why Yeosang loves this specific spot. If he’s feeling slightly more daring, he might hide himself amongst the mortals while he window shops at the marketplace, but for today, relaxing is on itinerary instead. 

He walks over to his usual tree, humming to himself.

Then he stops himself in his tracks, his eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. Someone is already occupying his tree. He watches the maiden hum to herself, her hands busy with picking flowers and she sits the stalks on her lap. 

Unfortunately, Yeosang is the last deity to be confrontational, and he’s ready to just turn and leave—

“Oh gods! You’re breathtaking.”

He stops in his tracks, and turns back slowly. 

His finger points to himself accompanied with a confused expression he wears. 

“Me?”

He’s only met with laughter that sounded like sun rays when dawn first breaks. 

“I’m sorry. I probably scared you. It’s just, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I’ve always wanted ask—has anyone told you that you’re beautiful?”

Plenty. 

You laugh again. It tickles Yeosang’s ears. 

“You’ve probably heard it many times. But I still want to say it—you’re beautiful.”

That day Yeosang hums a wonderful tune that even Cupid has never heard before. His attention goes back to tending his rose garden, his slender fingers getting busy, brushing against the bud of the roses, blooming them full. 

He notices Cupid's surprised gaze, before he plucks a rose bud out to hand it to him.

“What's wrong, Cupid? Never seen a red rose before?”

Cupid furrows his eyebrows, his gaze reflecting confusion on top of curiosity before he shakes his head in reply.

“Yeosang…this is the first time I'm seeing you bloom red roses.”

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3@mcarebearsstuff. @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @yeosangiess @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @skteezcursed

@jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3 @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike @songmingisthighs

[creedslove]

boyfriend!Joel Miller who's very anxious about your age gap and often worries you'll find someone better and younger than him but also trusts your words and actions when you assure him you love him and no one else

boyfriend!Joel Miller who doesn't understand exactly why a girl like yourself fell for him, but he's thankful every single day for that blessing

boyfriend!Joel Miller who fixes up anything you want: the leaking faucet, the warped bookshelf or the weird noise your car's been making, he might be tired after work, but he's still gonna do it

boyfriend!Joel Miller who loves going grocery shopping with you even if he doesn't admit it, it's something so simple and mundane but it reminds him he's not alone anymore, and running errands is always good when he's got you by his side

boyfriend!Joel Miller who doesn't really know if he'd like to get married some day, but he certainly knows how gorgeous you'd be all in white and feels his heart racing at the picture of you as a bride

boyfriend!Joel Miller who always complains about the reality shows you watch but the truth is that he's as addicted to it as you are and it's sort of a couple moment, where you both aren't doing anything sexual or romantic, but it still feels good to be that close

boyfriend!Joel Miller who loves laying hid head on your lap and purring at your soft caress, feeling your fingers scratching his scalp and his beard, closing his eyes and relaxing

boyfriend!Joel Miller who acts all rough and tough but melts whenever you prepare him a lunchbox so he won't live off tacos or burgers

boyfriend!Joel Miller who always watched as you sleep next to him, taking in how beautiful you truly are and reflecting on how much he loves you and wants to spend all the time he's got left with you

[copilot-crashout]

Anyway, I wanted to ask how the tulpar crew would react to reader style. Is gyaru that includes heavy makeup, long nails , a short skirt, etc? In which, they always think she’s a bitch for her style but is the most sweetest person ever? Please and thank you if you have the time!!

Pairing: Tulpar crew x fem!reader

Content Warning: Jimmy's part has brief mentions of misogynistic ideology and language. ( -᷄ _ -᷅ ; )

[A/N]: This was a really fun ask. Thank you! o(≧▽≦)o I like your pfp also, I love ALNST!! Happy New Year to everyone reading!

CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> As a kid, the first lesson he was taught was to never judge a book by its cover. No matter how extravagant it was. The same applies to you, and he's so thankful for it.

-> If you ever want to take pictures of your outfits, he'll be the best cameraman ever. He'll tell you where to stand and take multiple pictures before returning your phone. He'll take them from different angles, asking you to move slightly to get better lighting. Back home, he'll steal your phone, sending himself all the photos he had taken as keepsakes, grinning like a fool. Yeah, he really is lucky to have you.

-> Definitely buys you clothing to match your style! He wants to support your hobbies as much as he can, noting what he sees you wearing the most often! Takes you out on dates to try and find different pieces for both of you. He has you sitting outside his dressing room before stepping out in a simple low-cut shirt and khaki pants you swore he had at home. He does a little spin, walking slightly to test the fit of his trousers before he faces you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"What do you think, honey? You're the fashionista out of the two of us."

-> Bless his heart, the man really is clueless. He'd be happy to learn from you, though! Ask to dress him up in a similar style and he's hesitant. He's comfortable with what he knows. He'd much rather spend it on you, to see you smile in those gorgeous outfits.

DAISUKE:

-> He thinks it's so cool! He's not one to judge right off the bat, especially as to someone's style. However, his mood dampers once he's aware not everyone thinks like that. He hears the curt answers people give you, the whispers behind your back and the harsh stares he quickly returns when you're not looking. You're not scary at all! How come he's the only one to see that?

-> He'll take you outfit shopping but it's more for him! He rocks with the cardigans you wear so hard. He starts looking around for different styles that he might like. Daisuke loves the way you're dressed and wants to seem as cool as you did when you first met. He leans to more colourful outfits, saving different fit inspirations that he scrolls past on Instagram. He's inspired by those accounts that post couple fits, wanting to do the same with your style.

"This is cute but it looks waaayyy better on you!"

-> He's swapping accessories with you! Daisuke steals some of your hairclips and you snatch his jewellery to wear with your fits. His heart wells up with pride when he sees you wearing something of his. He must've done a good job picking it out. Daisuke kicks his feet and giggles whenever you compliment him on his outfits. You? Of all people!? Like his outfit!?! He's hit the jackpot!

ANYA:

-> Initially, Anya is intimidated. However, it easily melts away at how kind you are! Instead, she's quickly charmed by your confidence to wear gyaru fashion when it's not very conventional.

-> Supports it fully! She does extensive research into the subculture. Dedicates her time to learning about the different types of Gyaru styles and its history - the whole nine yards!

-> She likely won't dress up in that style, but you have inspired her to focus more on fashion. Those socks and sandals may be good for work, but not the best for streetwear style. She doesn't wear extremely alternative outfits but is drawn to simpler and neutral outfits that still scream fashionable.

-> Anya holds onto one of your hairpins when she works! It's a sweet reminder of you and her patients compliment her for it. It's a win-win!

-> While you're preparing for a date with her, she'll walk into the bathroom, observing how you do your make-up and taking note of your routine. Eventually, she builds up the courage to ask if she could do it for you, promising with a grin that it'll look great.

-> You're sitting in the bedroom, nimble hands cupping your face as Anya draws your eyeliner on, tongue sticking out in concentration as she works on keeping it even on both sides. All you can focus on is the proximity between you both, the gentle warmth radiating from her hands. She gently tilts your face as she applies your blush before leaning down and pressing a swift kiss to your glossed lips.

"There. You look gorgeous, starlight. Ready to head off?"

JIMMY:

-> Hates it at first. It's obnoxious, loud, and only makes you look intimidating. Pretty girls like you should be dolled up but only in the way he deems appropriate.

-> He's... Weirdly envious. Not at the clothes you wear (although being able to afford a style like that seems like an unneeded expense) but more so at what it means. You don't care for others' opinions, wearing what you like because it makes you happy. No matter how much he wants to deny it, Jimmy thrives off the opinions of others. He looks like an everyman. The most average man you could conceive of. Not like anyone important. How could you stand out next to him? You look like someone worth remembering and it pisses him off.

-> If you're in a relationship, I could see him warming up to it. He'd still prefer it if you didn't wear it but if it makes you happy... Plus, having a cute girl like you on his arm is certainly an ego booster. He buys you a skirt or two, smirking when you notice its shortness compared to your usual ones.

"What? Don't like it? I thought this sorta thing was up your alleyway? You'd look sexy in it anyway, doll."

SWANSEA:

"This isn't one of those fads, is it?"

-> Swansea can only sigh. This isn't his first rodeo with self-expression. His kids have done it all, including driving him up the wall as they explore their identity through their fashion. It doesn't make him any less confused, unfortunately.

-> It's more... out there than he was expecting. It's not one he's seen before. Rather than researching in his own time, he'd much prefer to get a first-hand account of it all. He asks questions in that fatherly way. It seems like he's judging but he is genuinely curious.

-> He doesn't think he could ever wrap his head around it but that doesn't mean he won't support you. Instead of buying you clothes, he'll pay for your nail appointments, muttering how "you kids are always runnin' me dry."

-> For all his grumbles, seeing you happy is his #1 priority, and the grin on your face when you show him your outfit is enough to make it all worth it.

[lizpottersworld]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ITS RAINING MEN ! one. MEET CUTE (poly!marauders x fem!reader) part one.

summary: moving into a new flat in london as an aspiring romance novelist, you definitely did not expect to have the three most hottest neighbours. but who were you to complain? looking for inspiration for your first book, you stumble upon the most perfect mmc’s.. hallelujah!

a/n: this is most very likely going to be a multiple part fic because of all these ideas and potential this dynamic has.. it’s going to be slow.. but definitely worth it.

At 23, borderline adult, it was definitely time to move away from my family home and to start my own new life somewhere different.

It truly had been a long time coming.

Moving from the usual causality of new england farm life to the loud capital city of London was a drastic change that I was embracing to take.

Sure it came with sacrifices; the no longer safety net of my parents, the new accustomed living and not to mention the lonesomeness.

It was definitely a drastic change.

But it was essential in filling up the drawing board of inspiration for my self proclaim to being an author. It had to be something I got right, being my first redemption into the publication industry.

And simply, Maine wasn’t that captivating when it came to writing the perfect gentlemen character of men in my own universe.

They weren’t cutting it, the men I dated whilst living at home were enough to send anyone over the edge if they weren’t used to it like I had.

The film’s I watched always made the British men seem so much more respectful and wishful, even if it was only a select few.

I only needed to observe to paint their characteristics.

Standing in front of my new flat building, I observed the new city landscape. It was loud, busily and the rain painted a new picture.

Looking at the time on my watch, 12:31pm, I bite my lip anxiously as I waited for the landlord to drop the keys off.

The moving truck I had hired was parked up the road outside the building, all the furniture I could find from family who were willing to give it away packed away safely.

“Are you, Y/n?” A man approached, scruffy looking with a cigarette in his mouth. I had to bite back a grimace at the aroma of him.

“Thats me,” I nodded, seeing a key chain his jeans I assumed this was Mark, my new landlord.

“Welcome to London, darlin’,” He grinned, flashing an appointed smile of greeting. Mark handed over the key, blowing out his puff of air in my face.

I coughed, “Thanks-“ fanning the air of the residual, the man didn’t even wait for me to finish my sentence until he was stalking off towards his beat up truck.

Charming.

Looking up at the building, I used the key to open the door and propped it upon with a brick temporarily.

“You can unload now, Its flat 13.” I nodded to the moving men. They laughed.

“Sweetheart, we’re only here to deliver thats additional services.”

I frowned, “How much is the additional?”

“£500.”

My mouth gaped, I didn’t have that kind of money to spare. I needed it for living.

The guy sighed, “We can bring the couch and bed up for £20.”

“Really? That would be really great.” I grinned, handing over the twenty note.

“Just because you’re gorgeous,” Another guy added, winking. Gross.

It took them a total of 15 minutes and some various disgusting passes later till they were packing up and my boxes were at the bottom of the stairs.

I had no idea how I was going to get these up 2 floors. Luckily, I had sacrificed many clothes at home and was only left with 3 boxes. Anymore would have been a mood killer.

Hands on hip, and hair tied up in my claw clip I stared at the stupid boxes and the flights of stairs.

“You alright, love?” Someone interrupted, I jumped in surprise turning around to see a gorgeous man.

Tanned, tall with a blessed muscle of athletic build. A mop of curly brown hair, glasses covering his green eyes. Fucking hell.

“Oh! Sorry, I just moved in, trying to figure out how to move these boxes.” You sheepishly smile, cheeks tinging in pink embarrassment.

The guy smiled friendly, sweating with a bottle of water in his hand as he seemingly had just got back from some sort of workout. “Ah, well welcome to the flat block, I can help you move the boxes if you need.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to.” I shake my head, gesturing to his attire, “Looks like you’ve already had a workout.”

He grins, “I’d be more than happy to help, extra workout.”

“Thanks.” I smiled, “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“James.” He smiled, leaning down to grab the first box, “What number are you?”

“13.”

“Well hello neighbour, I live in 12 with my mates.” If James’ was a based judgement on the rest of his friends, then they’re definitely going to be as attractive as him.

“Thats nice, have you lived here long?” I asked, making friendly banter as I pick up the smaller box and follow him up the stairs.

“For about three years, straight out of university, we all moved to London for a fresh start.” James replied.

“Same as me. Moved away from my hometown in Maine, looking for something new here.”

“Maine, you really are looking for something new.” He laughed as we approached my door.

I put the box on the floor, unlocking the door with my key, “It’ll be a challenge, but it’s exciting.”

He carried the box in to the open plan floor, “Well, if you ever need a tourist or anything, I’m the door opposite.” He smiled.

I flushed at the idea of seeing him again, clearing my throat, “Thank you for your help James, you’re a saviour seriously.”

“It’s no problem, Love.” He waved it off smiling, “Let me grab the other box and i’ll be back.”

I nodded in appreciation, looking around to take in the place that I would live for a few years.

It wasn’t anything grand, it was a decent sized one bedroom with a kitchen and bathroom. For the price, It was what expected. Sure, It was dusty and there was definitely some decoration issues on the chipped walls and battered windows but it would do.

Anything was a great opportunity.

Plus the fantastic roommate as a view is definitely a positive plus.

James walks back in with ease carrying the heaviest box, “Is that everything, love?”

I nod, smiling, “Yeah, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He nods, lingering in the door as I try not to ogle his muscles restraining against his compression shirt, “See you around.” He winks and waves stepping into his own front door.

With a shaky sigh I shut my own front door, back against the green door looking at the boxes on the floor.

To a new life.

a/n: thank you for reading part one!

[lazysoulwriter]

standing tall. - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you for sending. tall girls supremacy!!!!! (not a tall girl, just find them hot)

---

It started with one photo. Just one.

You and Pedro Pascal at an afterparty ��� him in a perfectly tailored suit, you towering over him in stilettos and a silk gown, laughing at something he whispered against your ear.

The internet lost its mind. “Tall girl supremacy!!” “Pedro with his goddess? I’m crying??” “He’s so real for this.”

And honestly? You loved every second of it.

You met Pedro on set — a supporting role in his new prestige series. From the very first table read, he made you feel seen. Literally seen.

While most people awkwardly commented on your height or made jokes, Pedro had simply looked up at you, grinned wide, and said, "Finally, someone who doesn’t make me feel like a giant."

It was easy after that. Late-night conversations on set. Inside jokes. Flirty glances over coffee cups. You tried to ignore the way your heart skipped when he laughed. Tried to pretend you didn’t notice the way he always found a reason to stand just a little closer to you.

Of course, Pedro made the first move. (Because you're gorgeous, and he’s not stupid.)

-

Dating Pedro was a whirlwind of soft affection and quiet understanding.

He loved how you wore heels without hesitation. He loved how you never apologized for taking up space — in a room, in a conversation, in his life.

"You’re statuesque, hermosa," he told you one night, tracing the line of your jaw with reverent fingers. "Like you were carved out of marble just to drive me crazy."

The only thing he didn’t love? Seeing you hesitate when the cameras were around.

Because no matter how confident you were, there was always that tiny voice in your head: Too tall. Too loud. Too much.

Pedro saw it. And he wasn’t having it.

The night of the afterparty, it all came to a head.

You hesitated before stepping onto the red carpet with him, shifting on your towering heels. Pedro caught your hand immediately, pulling you back into his chest.

"Hey," he said, voice low and sure. "You’re not dimming yourself for anyone tonight. You hear me?"

You smiled nervously. "I’m like... two inches taller than you right now."

Pedro chuckled, squeezing your hand. "And you look like a fucking queen. If anything, I should be wearing taller shoes to keep up with you."

You laughed, the tension breaking. He pressed a kiss to your temple, completely ignoring the flashing cameras.

"Let them talk," he murmured. "I’ve got the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm. I'm winning."

And just like that, you stood a little taller.

The next morning, you woke up to thousands of tweets, edits, and fan posts celebrating you both.

Pedro had even reposted one — a photoset of the two of you looking every bit like Hollywood royalty — with the caption: "Love when she looks at me like I hung the moon 🖤"

Cue the internet absolutely combusting.

Later that week, curled up on his couch in sweats and no makeup, you teased him, "You're really not bothered that I’m taller than you sometimes?"

Pedro set down his coffee, turning to you with that fond, devastating smile. "Sweetheart," he said, "I’m old enough to know when I'm blessed. You could be six feet tall or sixty feet tall — I'd still look at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You hid your burning face in his chest, laughing. He wrapped his arms around you tighter.

"Besides," he added with a wink, "I like having to look up at you. Keeps me humble."

You giggled, feeling weightless in a way you hadn't in a long time. And as he kissed the top of your head, murmuring sweet nothings into your hair, you realized —

Yeah. This was the real win. Not just for the tall girls. But for you. For the love you had found when you finally stopped shrinking yourself.

----

[madabapf]

Ok despite the PANIC and HEARTACHE and STRESS and SORROW

This Wukong?

he looks so fluffy i love this wukong very much thank you i’ve been blessed he’s so gorgeous

(also you’re awesome and talented af ty again for such a fun— and angsty— comic and entertaining content, hope you have a wonderful rest of your week <3 )

fully glamoured wukong do be a very fluffy boy 😌 a very anxious fluffy boy

(tysm <33)

[milfharkness]

honey, on your knees (when you look at me) | part one

pairing: agatha harkness x fem reader

summary: even though your job mostly consists of taking rich, arrogant lawyer's coffee orders, you're still grateful for the opportunity to work at such a prestigious firm. especially considering that your boss, agatha, is the hottest woman you've ever seen.

contents: g!p agatha, dom agatha, sub reader, dirty talk, degradation, oral (agatha receiving), talk of breeding

part two

An angel must've blessed you for you to receive this internship, you think when you glance over to a table where a few lawyers have gathered to look over some documents together.

Amidst them, Agatha Harkness stands in all her glory, wearing a dark blue tailored pantsuit and looking gorgeous as ever, discussing points in whatever papers they were reviewing.

It's been two glorious weeks at the law firm, and despite your days mostly consisted of going on coffee runs, you wouldn't trade it for anything. The past few weeks here have been absolute heaven, thanks to your boss, Agatha Harkness.

An infamously ruthless lawyer, winning case after case and building a hugely successful career for herself—also, the hottest woman you've ever seen in your entire life. Every chance you get, you look at her in awe, admiring veiny hands and piercing blue eyes.

And sometimes, she stares back.

Right then, her voice cuts through the noise in the office: "Your level of incompetence is fucking baffling."

You eye her again, Though she's never particularly kind or open-hearted, today the tension around her seems much thicker. Interrupting stuttered apologies by some employee, Agatha lets out a scoff and leaves for her office: "Someone deal with this, if I have to be subjected to your ineptitude any longer I'll have lawsuit on my hands."

You smirk to yourself. She does seem very stressed by all this...you look around the office. No one's paying attention to you.

Doesn't look like anyone needs coffee right now.

While the group is still frantically going over the papers, you should probably care more about the actual work being done here, you make your way to her office practically unnoticed. That's one of the benefits of being an intern—no one pays attention to you. You're invisible, a ghost.

To most, at least. More than once, you've caught Agatha staring at you, giving you a smirk or winking at you—so this couldn't hurt, right? You'll just ask her if she needs anything. Nothing scandalous about it.

Obviously, her office is the biggest of the building. Once you've reached it, you take a deep breath and knock. After there's no answer, you knock once more: "Miss Harkness? May I come in?"

A sharp groan follows and she yells something you hope is "Come on in!", but very likely isn't.

Her gaze immediately softens at the sight of you, though, and she expectantly waves a hand: "How can I help you? y/n, is it?"

"Yes," you reply, surprised and proud at the same time that she remembered your name. The door falls shut behind you.

"I was just wondering if there's anything you need. You seem a bit stressed..."

"I'm not stressed, I just work with idiot apes."

You give her a soft laugh, then shrug your shoulders: "So, coffee? Or...anything?"

She raises her brow at that, even giving you an amused smirk: "Or anything?"

You avert your gaze, looking down at the floor and smiling timidly: "Just...I don't know."

"I'm afraid I don't know, either. Are you sure you don't want to explain it to me?"

The atmosphere in the room changes almost instantly.

Agatha leans back in her chair, and you hear your heart pounding: "Or would you like me to tell you what I think you're talking about?"

You nod immediately. She laughs, slowly getting up from her chair. The sight you're presented with is like right out of a fucking dream—she's hard.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath when she stalks towards you, leaning back against her desk in front of you.

One hand grips the edge of her desk, while her other one slowly makes its way down, grabbing her crotch through her pants. You let out a shaky breath.

"I think," she says, unzipping her pants, "you want to get on your knees and suck my cock. Stress relief, right?"

It's almost embarrassing how fast you fall to your knees in front of her. She laughs again, holding out her hand for you to take. You do, and she slowly leads it to her crotch.

Carefully, you touch her hard cock over the fabric of her pants, mouth watering at the feeling of her twitch in your hand.

A low groan from above you makes you look up—that fucking smirk is going to be the death of you. Is this really happening?

"May I?"

You don't specify what you're asking permission for, but both of you know and Agatha quickly nods, pressing herself further into the desk and gripping its edges when you unzip her pants, only pulling them down to her thighs and sliding down her panties, cock springing free. Oh. She's big.

Curious, you run your fingers along her length before carefully grabbing it and giving her a few light pumps, each making her let out a little groan—with the way she's pushing herself further into the desk and gripping its edges, you figure she needs this really bad.

And though you want nothing more than to help her with her frustration, it's intimidating. She is big, really big, and it's your first time doing anything like this.

You stroke her cock again a few more times, mouth mere inches from it, when Agatha moves her right hand into your hair and tugs lightly, muttering in a low, hushed voice: "Suddenly so shy..."

You don't look up, completely transfixed by her cock, and give her a small, hesitant smile: "You're big."

She hums noncommittally, fingers curling in your hair while her free hand moves down, perfectly manicured fingers barely fitting around her own cock and taking over for you, stroking herself: "You've wanted this for ages, haven't you?"

"Since I started here," you admit, looking up at her through your eyelashes.

At that, she smirks.

"Come on. Be a good girl for me and open up, honey."

For a second, you're hit with a wave of insecurity—you'd never done something like this, and you absolutely could not afford doing a bad job at pleasing Agatha—but the sultry tone of her voice, her darkened eyes, they make the worries wash away on a whim, replacing them with a desire to please her, through whatever means necessary.

You scoot closer to her and make a mental note to thank her about the soft carpet in her office later, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to start by giving her a few kitten licks.

But before you can realize what's happening, she puts her other hand on the back of your head and pushes hard, pushes you onto herself fast until her cock hits the back of your throat—you barely even register what just happened and gag immediately, put your hands on her thighs and push to try and get yourself off of her, but she's relentless, holding your head with her hands and releasing a low growl.

Tears begin to run down your face automatically, God, the stretch fucking hurts, you feel like you can't breathe—what the fuck is she doing? Again, you try to push yourself away, but Agatha remains firm: "Shh, shh, calm down...let me take the lead, okay?"

You look up at her, eyebrows knitted together, as you struggle to understand while letting out muffled sobs and trying to breathe through your nose.

Agatha lets out a dark chuckle, bringing her thumbs to her face to wipe your tears away. Her previous kind demeanor has disappeared into thin air.

"Bold little cockslut, coming into my office practically begging me to fuck her...teasing me all week. You've had this coming."

Just then, she thrusts her hips forwards—again, you choke and gag, fuck, the tears don't stop, while Agatha doesn't seem concerned in the slightest, muttering things incomprehensible to you and continuing to fuck your throat.

"Walking around like a little whore, shoving your tits in my face, giving me blowjob eyes every time I fucking look your way—wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck your cunt the first time I saw you, fill you up, make you take it," she accentuates the last words with particularly rough thrusts.

You let out a pained sob, her fingernails pressing into your skin.

"I know you're getting off on it. I bet you love this," she purrs, before letting out another moan, "How many times have you fucked yourself to the thought of this?"

A whine escapes you, and you wouldn't have answered her question even if you were able to, simply because the answer was too humiliating.

You accept your fate when breathing through your nose gets easier, and you put your hands on the back of her thighs. She smiles cruelly through her panting: "Bet you'd like that, if I filled you up and bred you. Crying like you don't know what you've been doing."

As embarrassing as it is, her words go straight to your core and you groan against her, vibrations causing her to, as well.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think about how neither of you had locked the door. She fucks the worries out of you with another hard thrust, a burning sensation in your throat you can't be bothered to lament right now.

"Fuck," she pants, "I might have to keep you. My personal little fucktoy."

Your eyes roll back in your head at the thought. This is humiliating, but you're unbelievably turned on despite it...okay, maybe because of it.

Agatha's thrusts are getting shallower and faster, and her groans louder, she must be so close—fuck it, you think, and for a moment, you consider shoving a hand down your skirt and getting yourself off, but decide against it. You must be fucking dripping, the pain of her assault on your throat doing something to you that you can't even describe.

Another loud moan escapes her, sweat glistening on her skin (you don't dare to imagine what you must look like right now), and you're prepared to take her cum—when instead, she all of a sudden pulls you off of her with one hand, spitting into her other one and then putting it around her cock again.

You can't stop yourself from coughing, nearly doubling over, until she fists her hand in your hair and pulls you up, still stroking her length: "Keep your mouth open, tongue out."

Tears are still running down your face, but you do as she says without hesitation, sticking your tongue out while she jerks herself off, biting her lower lip to keep quiet.

When Agatha cums with a surprisingly high-pitched whimper, she does it all over your face, tongue and neck. You don't move until she slumps back against her desk and lets go of your hair, panting heavily with her head thrown back.

After maybe a minute of her breathing being the only sound in the room, she lets out a weak laugh and pulls her underwear and pants back up: "Fuck. I really needed that. Thank you, honey."

You swallow, her cum a whole new flavor you can already feel yourself getting addicted to, and exhale shakily: "Holy fuck."

Your brain feels fuzzy. Maybe it's lack of oxygen or maybe it's the sensation of your fantasies starring a hot, powerful, middle-aged woman coming true, but one thing is certain: you're not sure how you're supposed to be able to sleep with anyone else ever again.

"Enjoyed that, huh?," she teases, before adding: "You can get off your knees now."

"I...genuinely don't think I can move."

There's a glint of something in her eyes. You can't quite place what it is. She's still smiling when she returns to the other side of her desk and gets something from one of her drawers. It's a box of wet wipes. You snort: "Need those a lot?"

"Not often. And rarely ever with interns," she gets out a wet wipe and hands it to you. You accept it gratefully.

"I'm not the first one?"

She laughs a little: "Not the first. But definitely the prettiest...get on the couch."

You raise an eyebrow at her request.

She smirks again: "Baby, don't pretend you're not soaked...come on. Don't forget, I'm an amazing, generous boss."

[berryrev]

Became His Secretary

Hanma Shuji — Tokyo’s infamous Reaper and Toman’s underboss insisted he didn’t need a secretary. What he needed was his gun to protect the gang’s properties and to execute anyone who dared challenge their authority. But what good was a gun if their businesses fell apart because he couldn't play his role in the office? Yeah, he needed guns, but apparently… he needed a secretary too.

The beginning of you: And It's His Secretary

Hanma Shuji claimed he didn’t need one. However, Kokonoi Hajime was fed up with Hanma’s delayed reports and constant bullshit, that’s why he insisted: Hanma had to get a secretary.

"I work on the streets more, not in this four-walled prison with papers," were his famous last words.

But it was already too late. With Kisaki’s blessing, Kokonoi arranged for the hiring of a new executive assistant, because Hanma Shuji needed one, and Kokonoi believed it was necessary for the sake of their front business, as well as his own sanity.

So here you were—polished, composed, and so professional, and Hanma, whenever he looked at you, felt this pressure he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was because, with just one glance, you’d hit him with the structure of his upcoming office tasks—the kind he didn’t want to deal with and would rather ignore in favor of terrorizing the streets.

Don’t get him wrong, though. You looked so pretty that the idea of not needing an office assistant was instantly vanished the moment you walked into his office. The thoughts that ran through his head when you were introduced as his new secretary? Yeah, they weren’t all innocent. He couldn’t help it, you were gorgeous, young, and very sexy… but goddamn you were so strict.

And he realized that the moment his paperless table turned into a post-it party, thanks to your reminders.

Damn, when would you give him a break?

"Hanma-san, please hurry up. You have a meeting with Amiyoshi-san in fifteen minutes," you reminded him again. How many times had you said that today? He couldn’t even count.

Blowing smoke out through his nose, he asked, "What’s that meeting all about again?" he turned to face you, watching as you tried your best to stay completely composed, even at the same question he already asked a hundred times today.

He enjoyed it whenever he could gouge a reaction out of you. You see, he’s not the type to do lame shit (like office work), but he had to because it was part of his responsibilities. But god, it was boring. So, to cure that boredom, you became the subject of his teasing. Just a small quirk of your eyebrow, or any emotion that slipped past your constant default face, was way too much fun to watch, so he kept doing it.

And oh, poor you. You were just a decent employee trying to work hard, feed yourself, and pay your bills. You had no idea that the moment you walked into his office and saw his long legs propped up on the table, you were already in for a misadventure.

"They’ll negotiate for permission to use some of our secured smuggling routes," you simply answered, meeting his playful eyes. You knew he’d try another antic to delay the meeting, but you weren’t going to fall for his trap. This meeting needed to be settled today, or Kisaki would have both your heads.

"Ah, it’s gonna be stressful. I need to smoke another stick" pulling one from his cigarette tin and turning to face you. "I need to cope, y'know." and he got what he wanted when your eyebrows furrowed in frustration, though you didn’t say anything.

After his third stick of the day, you drove as fast as you could while reminding him again about the meeting agenda. He didn’t listen to your yapping—the meeting would end in two ways anyway. If he didn’t like it he’d kill someone, and if he did, everyone would live, and Toman’s pockets would be eating double this month.

"After this meeting, sir, Kisaki-san expects you at headquarters" you reminded him one last time before Hanma entered the conference room.

"Let’s get this shit done, everybody! Twenty minutes—my patience" he said, propping his long legs on the table as you sat down beside him.

-

You were about to enter the driver’s seat when Hanma stopped, his once bored eyes sharpening as his gaze locked onto a nearby block. Hanma, after everything he'd experienced on the streets, had instincts honed like an animal’s. He could sense danger coming from a mile away.

Golden eyes locked on the black SUV parked down the block, he muttered "Someone’s testing their luck today"

"Hanma-san?"

"Get in the passenger seat. I’m driving" before you could even protest, Hanma had already shoved you into the car and rounded the front with speed, sliding into the driver’s seat. His eyes flicked to the side, the black SUV was now moving.

"Hold on tight, sweetheart. We’ve got company" and he slammed his foot on the pedal.

"H-Hanma-san, what’s going on!?" he could hear the panic in your voice loud and clear, though he wasn’t sure how you were holding up beside him since he was too focused on the side mirror, watching the black car hot on his tail.

"Fucking bastards" he laughed maniacally. His grip on the wheel was as tight as you gripped your sanity. Hanma pressed the pedal one more time before turning onto another block. He was running at nearly 120 km/hr, swerving through the narrow streets like a madman with a death wish.

You screamed when he nearly crashed into a post, but with a swift move, he swerved just in time. You were full-blown crying now, convinced this would be your last day on earth. You were too young to die. You hadn’t even reached your thirties yet and you still had dreams. One of them was to visit every café and pastry shop to taste every cake you saw. Another was to go to Aoshima and pet every cat you could find—

"Fuck it! They’re not gonna let us go huh?" Hanma glanced at you briefly and saw your face buried in your hands. He'd heard your scream earlier, and it told him just how terrified you were. But there was no time to stop. If he did, both of you would end up lifeless on the street.

"Y/N" he called, just to make sure you were still breathing.

"Come on, we’re gonna escape this sh—"

"We’re going to die, Hanma-san!"

"I won’t let us die! Who the hell do you think I am?" He reached for the gun in his holster, cracked the driver’s door open slightly, and glanced at you one more time.

"Take the wheel while I feed these bastards some lead"

And when he opened the door, he started firing bullet after bullet. He felt you grab the wheel as he kept targeting the SUV. These fuckers wouldn’t stop until he got every last one of them killed huh?

He aimed for the driver’s side window, ready to end it, but just then, you swerved hard, and his shot missed. He nearly slipped out of the door.

"Fuck! Warn a man next time, will ya?"

"They're going to kill us, Hanma-san! We're gonna die!" he heard the tremble in your voice, making his jaw clench, and his eyes sharpened.

He wouldn’t let that happen.

"They won’t, baby, not if I kill them first" he fired again, another round of bullets. Glass shattered on the SUV, and finally, one shot went clean through, hitting the bastard behind the wheel.

-

You were still covering your face as you cried inside the car. The both of you had barely escaped death. While you wailed from the intense fear you'd just felt, Hanma, on the other hand, was still riding the adrenaline and bloodthirst, though he forced the high down just enough to try and ease your tears.

"Y/n, come on. I told you we won’t die. See? We’re alive. That’s what matters, yeah? Stop crying now" he didn’t know how to comfort you.

Usually, after this kind of encounter, he’d call someone to clean up the bodies, then go somewhere to fuck the rest of the rush out of his system.

He stared at your shaking form. Even though you knew what kind of work this was, and what kind of business you were stepping into, you still accepted the job wholeheartedly. But that didn’t mean you were used to situations like this, and honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising if you decided to quit after today.

His thoughts were interrupted when you finally uncovered your face and looked up at him.

Completely stunned. There was something that tugged at his chest when he saw how red and puffy your eyes were from crying.

Hanma, for all the sins he'd committed, had never once felt guilt, not until today. He didn’t know what to do. But the sudden urge to coo at you, maybe softly run a hand through your hair, passed through his mind.

Would it make you feel better? Would you stop crying then? But he wasn’t used to that. Comforting someone was alien to him. It wasn’t something a crime lord should do—not for anyone, and especially not for his secretary. So instead, he blurted out:

"Are you hungry?"

And imagine the surprise on his face when you slapped his shoulder—

"The fuck was that for?!"

"I thought I was gonna die today! And you're asking if I'm hungry!?"

If it were anyone else, Hanma would’ve bashed their head in right then and there for daring to hit him. But it was you. And for some reason, he let it slide.

Maybe it was because he had dragged you right into this mess. Or maybe it was because you were pouting while angrily glaring at him.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t want to know.

"Well, we're alive, so there's that. And I told you, I wouldn't let us die. Should’ve trusted me a little more." The last part came out more like a whisper to himself.

He didn’t know what else to say to comfort you. The best he could offer was to remind you that the both of you were still breathing, and maybe, food in your stomachs would ease the weight of what just happened.

"B-but Kisaki-san expects you—"

"Fuck what he said. We’re starving, so we’re gonna eat first" The engine roared to life as he started driving again.

"You’re the one who’s starving" you mumbled under your breath.

And if he wasn’t feeling just a little, tiny bit of pity for you, you would’ve heard a snarky comeback in return.

Hanma stopped in front of a shokudo he knew well.

As you entered, the staff immediately attended to the both of you.

"Hanma-san! I didn’t know you’d be coming. Oba-san is in the office—"

"No, we’re just here to eat" Hanma interrupted.

As you sat down, he casually mentioned that the restaurant was one of Toman’s assets. While the official owners were still the family who originally ran it, they were deeply indebted to the gang. Eventually, it became part of Toman’s network. Usually, when the gang was in a rush or needed a quick stop, this place served as their go-to.

It was quick, the plates of food, more than enough to feed two people, were set on your table in no time. Hanma was about to grab the bowl of donburi when you stopped him, your right hand raised in the air, silently asking for something.

"What?" his confused expression bored into you.

"Hand"

"Huh?"

When he didn’t get it the second time, you gently reached for his large right hand and picked up the pack of wipes in front of you.

Hanma’s confusion shifted to mild shock.

What were you on about?

That unfamiliar tug at his chest came again, but this time, it didn’t go away. It was a steady beat inside him, one that only existed when he was on the brink of death.

Hanma had never been touch-starved. With the countless faceless women he'd bedded, touch was nothing new to him—he was no stranger to it. But how crazy was it, that just one simple touch from you was enough to make his heart feel this restless?

"We don’t want our food to taste like gunpowder, sir" you muttered, not even looking at him as you carefully wiped the residue from his fingers.

He noticed how cold your hands were, but what got to him was the softness. It made him stare in silence, letting you do something he would never allow if it were anyone else.

And still, the inside of his chest stayed unsettled, alongside the one question circling his mind:

"What the fuck is happening?"

-

If you were to ask Hanma what things made him feel giddy and excited, he'd tell you about the missions that left blood on his hands and fire in his chest. The rush of catching someone mid-run, the high he got after escaping the scythe of death by mere seconds, the thrill of outsmarting the cops who thought they had him nailed. Those were the strange feelings that kept him going. Familiar, addicting, and just dangerous enough to make him feel alive.

But lately, another kind of feeling crept in. Strange too, but not the kind he was used to. This one wasn’t laced with adrenaline or bloodlust. It was soft, confusing… but warm.

And Hanma, as much as he tried to ignore it, confirmed those strange sensations had something to do with you. Only with you.

He didn’t understand it at first, and it irritated him more than he cared to admit. Yet unconsciously, he found himself chasing that warm, fuzzy feeling—especially when you weren’t around.

Like now.

He was in the meeting room with his co-executives, all waiting for the arrival of their commander. Feeling bored out of his mind, Hanma, rather than engaging in their useless chatter, pulled out his phone to kill time. That’s when he noticed an unread message from you and decided to open it.

You weren’t here today. Kokonoi had asked you to run some errands for him, which was why your usual nagging reminders came through as text messages instead.

fr. Sexytary :P

Good afternoon, sir. Kokonoi-san asked me to run some errands for him, I’ll be out for a while. I already called someone to deliver your lunch.

Hanma:

i just ate

fr. Sexytary :P

Alright, sir.

fr. Sexytary :P

I saw you running down the stairs, Hanma-san. Please slow down. You might trip, or worse, you’ll get a stomachache.

He let out a loud, roaring laugh right there. Your last message was hilarious. How the hell was tripping down the stairs, which could crack his skull and snap his spine, less serious than getting a stomachache? You were so funny sometimes. So unintentionally funny that it made his whole chest shake.

He kept laughing, not realizing the stares his co-executives were throwing his way. If it had been his usual maniacal cackle, they would've brushed it off as typical Hanma behavior. But this one was different. Genuinely amused. Too genuine. And that, to them, was concerning. Because when the hell did Hanma Shuji ever sound like he actually found something wholesome?

"Must be one of Toman’s rat torture videos," Mucho shrugged, sipping his wine.

Cigarette dangling from his lips, Pah added, "I wouldn’t laugh like that. He looked like he just watched the cutest video ever made"

Hanma didn’t hear them. He was too busy entertaining himself by replying to your ridiculous reminder. He pictured your deadpan face, and that last message made it even funnier in his head. So why not indulge himself a little, yeah?

Hanma:

tripping sounds worse ngl. and how do u know i was running downstairs? u stalking me now?

fr. Sexytary :P

No, sir. Just happened to witness you sprinting down the stairs like you were part of the olympics.

Hanma:

just say ur worried about me heh

fr. Sexytary :P

Worried about the stairs. They’ve suffered enough.

Hanma:

sassy. remind me to fire u later

fr. Sexytary :P

Already added to your to-do list, sir. Right after “glare at someone for no reason.”

Hanma:

u were hotter when u were scared of me

fr. Sexytary :P

Still am, sir. Terrified you’ll revoke my coffee privileges.

Hanma bit his lower lip, trying to keep his smile from widening.

How dare you be sassy with him? He’s your boss, a scary one at that.

But more importantly, how dare him let you match his sass and actually get away with it? Just how dare him.

"Must be porn videos" Smiley muttered, eyeing their upper boss.

"No, probably nudes from his bitches" Chifuyu added dryly.

Whatever it was, none of them dared to interrupt Hanma. He looked like he was in a good mood. Still, they couldn’t help but feel uneasy at his reaction. For someone known for doing the most brutal, unspeakable things, seeing him smile and laugh genuinely, almost softly, was the most disturbing thing of all.

-

Hanma had admitted it to himself that there was something about you he just couldn’t look away from. It was only a matter of time before he confirmed what that strange, persistent feeling really was.

What he didn’t expect was for that moment of realization to come tonight, when he arrived at the office, bloodied and wounded.

You were working late, trying to finish the report Hanma had ditched at the last minute because he’d been called out for a dangerous errand. And now, judging by the state he was in when he slammed the office door open, you just got your answer about how dangerous it really was.

You shot up from your seat and rushed to him, not even hesitating as you grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulders, guiding him gently toward your chair.

"Sit down, I’ll clean you up and treat your wounds" you said.

Hanma heard you, but he didn’t respond. Not because he was in pain, these injuries barely counted as scratches, but because he was too focused on your face. The way your brows furrowed in concern caught his attention more than anything.

In this line of work, it wasn’t unusual to return from a mission with wounds. But the bastards he faced tonight were just lucky enough to get a hit on him. He almost regretted not killing them slowly, just so they’d suffer more. Still, judging by the faint tension in your face, if that reaction really meant worry, then maybe the pain was worth it. He’d take those blows again if it meant seeing that expression on you.

"Worried about me?"

You looked up at him, and he gave you his usual smug grin, one he’d never admit was just a cover. A cover for the tension rising in his chest. Was he actually nervous asking you that? It didn’t sound like him. But maybe… maybe he was. Because what if, just what if...

"Of course I am"

One. Two. Three.

And his heart kept beating.

How dare you make him feel this way?

"As your secretary, of course I’m worried, sir."

He was sitting in front of you as you cleaned the dried blood from his tattooed hands, and he didn’t even flinch. What made his chest ache, though, was your earlier reply. Worried because you're his secretary, huh? He could accept that… for now.

"You're lucky I'm still working on your report. If I finished this a while ago, I would've clocked out already," you muttered, pouring Betadine onto a cotton pad and gently dabbing it on the nasty gashes across his knuckles.

"Oh? You deserve a raise then. Maybe even a promotion?" He smirked, eyes fixed on your concentrated expression, amused when your brow twitched slightly.

"What higher position could you even give me? I'm already an executive assistant."

"Partner in crime."

He watched how you scrunched your nose. Something tugged at his chest at the sight. Shit, you're cute. He had to restrain himself from pulling you in and kissing you then and there.

"As much as I’d love a share in Toman's underground empire, I’ll pass. I don’t wanna die young."

"Are ya trying to say, if I become your partner-in-crime, you're gonna die?" He leaned in closer, invading your space with that signature smugness, trying to act all dominant, even though his heart was pounding when you met his gaze head-on.

Doe eyes looking up at him, you replied, "Yeah. Remember after the meeting with Amiyoshi-san?"

"Shut up. We both came out alive. I killed those bastards—you saw it."

After cleaning his hands, you dragged your chair closer, eyeing the bruise blooming at the corner of his lips. Just like you did with his hands, you began cleaning that too, gentle and focused.

Hanma suddenly felt his throat dry, like all the words he wanted to say had died before they could reach his tongue.

He was bigger than you—tougher, meaner, forged in blood and violence. And yet, all these unfamiliar feelings bubbling up inside him, making him feel like an idiot, came from this small package with steady hands and a sharp mouth, who treated his wounds like he wasn’t dangerous.

"Thanks to my driving skills, you were able to kill them," you said smugly, though when he glanced at you, your soft smile betrayed the teasing.

And then it clicked, like the snap of a loaded gun.

He was right all along.

This warm, fuzzy feeling that had been tugging at his chest? It was because he liked you.

So, so much.

Hanma stole another look at your face before letting his head fall onto your shoulder. He felt you stiffen at the contact, but he didn’t move. He just sat there, letting your scent and the silence between you consume every thought.

"H-Hanma-san?"

Secretary, you said. Worried as a secretary.

Bullshit.

This unrelenting pull in his chest was no coincidence. It was a damn neon sign.

He fell for his secretary.

Hard.

And there was no getting out of it.

-

He tried his hardest to hide his feelings, not because he was afraid you’d find out, but because he couldn’t handle them. His only option was to bury them deep, hoping they’d never surface again. And the best way he knew how? Distance. Long hours away from the office, dangerous missions, and fucking other women.

He thought that would be enough to forget you. But man, was he wrong. The more he stayed out of your sight, the more he wanted to see you. The more he avoided your reach, the more he ached to be near you. And fuck his feelings, because they only grew stronger day by day.

Whenever he was out on a mission, all he could think about was whether the new wounds he earned would be enough to make you worry again. And whenever he fucked someone else, it was your face he imagined, your voice, and your soft pants under him. He knew it was all pointless. Because at the end of every day, it was always you in his mind.

Damn you. You could use him however you wanted, and he’d let you. No hesitation.

Speaking of trying to avoid you, he had taken on another mission that kept him occupied for almost the entire day. He’d been running and running, chasing down some asshole who had the information he needed. From one alleyway to the next, his shoes pounded the concrete, and sweat soaked through his shirt.

"Sneaky son of a bitch" he muttered, tightening his grip on his gun as irritation bubbled in his chest. Then his phone rang.

He didn’t have the time or the patience to entertain any calls right now, so he ignored it and pressed on. But whoever it was kept calling, the buzzing in his pocket relentless and impossible to ignore.

With a groan, he yanked the phone out, answering it with a snarl.

"The fuck you want!?"

"H-Hanma-san? Hello?"

Oh. Oh.

He calmed himself down, but his sharp eyes kept surveying the area, not wanting to miss even the faintest shadow of the man he'd been chasing. Still, his focus snapped the moment he heard you hiccup on the other end of the line—wait, were you crying?

"Y/N, where are you?" he asked, his voice low but tense. He caught the sound of your sniffle before you cleared your throat and responded.

"H-Hanma-san, I-I'm being followed," you whispered, voice low and hushed over the line.

Hanma had faced worst-case scenarios—hell, most of the time, he was the one who caused them. And yet, he always kept his cool.

But hearing your shaky breaths and uneven pants on the other end of the call put him on edge. Dangerously close to panic.

"I didn't notice it at first, but when I was about to return to the car, I saw someone standing near it. I-I don't know if it was a cop 'cause I just came from the t-trap house, a-and—" your ragged voice told him everything:

You were still trying to escape.

You were still running.

And Hanma, who was always excited to gun someone down, had never felt such a strong itch to pull the trigger on the asshole who dared to follow you.

He needed to calm down. Panic and rage wouldn’t help either of you, especially not when he was in the middle of hunting someone while you were being hunted.

“Where exactly are you right now? Do you see anywhere you can safely hide? Stay there. I’ll come get you. Don’t put the phone down.”

One last scan of the street where he stood, and then he turned and immediately left. He needed to come and get you.

You said a while ago that you came from the trap house, which is in northeast Shinjuku (where he was) so if you were still running and hiding, maybe, just maybe, you were in Kabukicho. Or at least, he hoped so.

"I’m in the backstreets of Kabukicho" you whispered, your breathing still heavy.

He stopped in his tracks. "Alleways?"

"Alleyways."

"What do you see?" He pressed the phone tighter to his ear as he continued speed-walking, eyes scanning every corner of the neon-lit district he passed.

You were just three blocks away from him now, and with every long stride he took, it felt like he was closing the distance faster, like sheer urgency alone could bend time.

Then he heard a shuffle on your end. He slowed down slightly, tilting his head to catch the sound better.

"Love hotels…" you mumbled.

And then the line went dead.

Calm down, Shuji he told himself. Maybe you ran off again or found somewhere more secure to hide. And answering the phone while escaping could be hard-

Goddamn it! Calm was impossible now.

He was running, stomach almost in his throat as he tried to dial your number one more time.

One more block. Just one more block. And he hoped, god he hoped, his baby would be there, waiting for him. Unscratched and breathing.

He called your number again the moment he reached the first alley surrounded by love hotels and host clubs.

There was no hesitation in his steps as he entered the dim path, neon lights flickering above, his eyes scanning every shadow, desperate for even the faintest glimpse of you.

"Answer the phone" he muttered, low and urgent.

Gun in his right hand, he moved through the dark, narrow passage, eyes darting through shadows, hoping he’d see you.

Then, finally, the call connected.

"I'm here now, where are you?" All he heard at first were your ragged breaths, shaky and fast.

"S-Sir, I-I"

He couldn’t hear you properly. His grip tightened around the phone as he broke into a run again.

"I couldn't get that. Where are you, Y/N?"

"H-Hanma-san! H-he’s still following me" You were full-blown panicking now, and Hanma could hear every trembling breath, every crack in your voice. His heart hammered in his chest, faster than his footsteps.

"Shit!" he hissed. "I’m in the alleyway between Scarlet Mirage Hotel and Neon Satin. What do you see now?"

He expected you to pick up where he was. If you could just tell him exactly where you were, maybe you’d meet in the middle.

"S-Sakura-dori"

Shit. You were one alley ahead of him.

"Hanma-san… I saw he has a gun. I-I can’t run a-anymore—"

"Do you trust me?" he cut in, already sprinting toward where you were. If he were even one second late, the worst could happen.

"H-huh?"

"I said, do you trust me?" One more turn, just one more, and he’d be there with you… and that bastard who dared chase you should start praying.

"I-I do, sir"

"Then if I say run to the left, run. Got it?" He was so close now. He could almost hear your footsteps overlapping his own.

He did not hear your response so he asked once again,

"Got it, Y/N?"

Gun locked and loaded, he was prepared to hunt.

"Yes, si—"

"Run"

At the exact moment he barked the command he emerged from the shadows.

Not like a savior. But like a reaper.

And instead of a scythe, he raised his glock.

He saw you running toward him at the exact moment the man who’d been chasing you revealed himself. The gun was pointed at you the same time you threw yourself into Hanma’s arms. He caught you. And then he fired. Every bullet unloaded without hesitation.

The man had no time to react, no time to protect himself. Hanma fed him enough lead to send him straight to the ground.

Hanma Shuji came to take his life, just like the bastard deserved.

Because that’s what the reaper does. Always.

Blood splattered across the concrete of Kabukichō’s backstreets.

The man was dead. But still, Hanma’s grip on you didn’t loosen. He held you like if he let go for even one second, the world would try to take you from him.

The only time he loosened his embrace was when you finally looked up, lifting your face from where it had been buried in his chest and Hanma felt the breath he'd been holding escape him, along with the fear he refused to show.

Your pretty face was streaked with tears, but you still managed to say something that made him laugh under his breath.

"You're almost late" Oh. That was so you.

"But I wasn't" His grip on you tightened, almost possessive. Like he was silently telling you, I won't let you go. Not anymore.

"I almost died. I deserve a raise" Still adorable and sassy. And all he could think was, What would my life be if I was truly late?

"I saved you. You should work for free"

You rolled your eyes, and it made him laugh almost softly "After this, I’ll file a sick leave. Maybe for a month. I need to recover from this"

Even though your voice had returned to its usual nonchalant tone, your body told a different story. You still hadn’t let go. And neither had he.

"Sick leave denied"

And he knew he didn’t mean it, because his hand was already tracing slow, gentle circles on your back, and maybe it was a good choice, for both of you, not to say anything about it.

-

Your back hits the cold wall as Shuji pins you against it. He crashes his lips into yours, and your knees instantly go weak. You're trying your best not to wobble, not to collapse onto the office floor, but the way he kisses you rough and hungry, like he’s been holding back for far too long, makes it almost impossible to stand.

"Shu—wait, wait." You press your hands against his chest to stop him, just for a moment.

He does, on your lips at least. But his mouth doesn't stay still for long. Instead, he trails hot kisses along your jaw, then down to your neck.

"Shu," you try again, breath hitching, "wait a second. I just got back from running an errand for Kisa—"

"I missed you, baby. So fucking much." And then his lips are back on yours, like he never planned to let you finish that sentence.

"Shu—Hanma-san."

That’s when he actually stops, pulling back just enough to look at you like you’ve called him something offensive.

"It’s Shu for you, miss." He rolls his eyes, dramatic as always, but his hands never leave your waist. You’re still pinned against the office wall, and he’s still towering over you like he owns the air you breathe.

You remember the first time he asked you to call him by his name. It was during that night you both indirectly confessed and ever since then, the rule’s been set. You’re not allowed to call him anything else. It’s always Shuji or Shu, and if you’re feeling generous and cute, baby.

"Can we at least sit down first? We both just got back." You tug him toward his chair, guiding him to sit.

You’re just about to turn around to drag your own chair beside his when he clearly has other plans, because instead of letting you go, he pulls you straight into his lap.

"Shu."

"There. We’re both sitting now. How’s your day, pretty baby?"

If it weren’t for the months you’ve spent working as his secretary, you probably wouldn’t be used to his antics. But thank heavens you are, because right now, you can handle him just fine. Not just him, but also his heart.

If someone had asked your old self what motivated you to work under a criminal boss, you would’ve said it was the high-paying salary. But over time, feelings got involved… and evolved.

Now, if someone asks you again, your answer will be simple:

Because of the dangerous man with the pretty golden eyes.

Funny, isn’t it? You almost quit being his secretary because of him and yet, he’s the very reason you stayed. The only difference between then and now? Back then, you worked under him. Now, you can literally be under him.

You look up at him and raise your hand to gently comb through his slightly disheveled hair. Maybe it got a little messy while he was running and hunting.

"The usual. I just stepped out of the office because Kisaki-san wanted me to pick something up."

He scoffed. "Why did it have to be you, though? Doesn’t Tetta have his own assistant?"

"Well, his errand was so important that the best executive assistant had to handle it. So I did." You wear your smile proudly, even as his forehead starts to crease.

"I had a bodyguard, don’t worry." And you feel the subtle ease in him when you say that.

"Of course. I assigned a bodyguard for the best executive assistant ever."

You giggle, tapping his chest, and in response, his arms around you tighten just a little more.

"If you think I’m the best, you should recommend me for a promotion." You lean forward, your noses almost touching.

"I offer you partner in crime." His words earn him a playful bite on the bottom of his jaw. He chuckles, tilting his head to give you easier access, the tip of his tongue briefly poking out.

"No. I told you, I don’t want to die young."

"What position do you want, then?" he asked, turning his face to lightly peck your lips.

"Partner in life" you answered, and you knew those words made the crime lord’s heart skip a beat. But instead of saying anything, he sealed your lips with another hungry kiss.

There’s your answer.

And for you, it’s always been yes.

When you think about everything that’s happened between the two of you, you never would’ve imagined ending up here, sitting on his lap, casually talking about your day and kissing him like there's no tomorrow.

All the chaos, danger, and complicated history should’ve been enough to drive you away, to push you to find a safer job, one that didn’t constantly put your sanity at risk. But every time you thought about letting go of your position, Hanma Shuji would look your way... and something unexplainable always pulled you back.

You stayed longer. You endured. And in time, both of you realized what it was.

It was love.

And thankfully, you were chosen to be his secretary, because even though the workload gets heavier and the job more intense, you know he’ll always be there.

Not just as your boss who stands above you, but as a lover who stands beside you.

And yeah, there’s no place you’d rather be.