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roosterforme · 1 month

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With an uncertain future, Bradley gets ready to leave for Virginia. But he works on a plan to make sure you understand just how much he will be thinking about you.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley felt sick to his stomach as soon as he saw the stationery set. At this point, the only thing on his mind was quitting his job so the two of you didn't have to be separated. The paper looked expensive; he would have loved to sit in his bunk and write line after line to you and your class, but he wouldn't be able to do that at all.

"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered, your hand coming to rest on his thigh, giving him a little squeeze. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."

He felt guilty even though he had no control over the scenario. His heart hurt with loneliness already as he set the gift you gave him on the coffee table and buried his face in his hands. "Gorgeous. That's not gonna happen." He swallowed past the lump in his throat and turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm confused," you said, hand still on his leg. He covered your fingers with his rougher ones and pulled gently until you climbed onto his lap.

"Oh, god," he groaned, giving you a kiss before linking his fingers with yours. "I love that set of note cards. I would have taken them with me everywhere during my free time, and I would have written to your class constantly. And you would have been the recipient of some rambling love notes to be sure." Your brow was still creased with concern as he said, "No outside communication. For seven weeks."

Your expression went slack as a single tear rolled down your cheek. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley held onto your fingers as you whispered, "This keeps getting worse," through more tears. Your broken voice made his chest ache as you leaned closer until your cheek was resting on his shoulder. "I could go ages without you in person, but if I can't talk to you at all... Bradley."

Nobody else ever loved him the way you did. He'd be miserable without your letters, emails, dirty pictures and pretty face over video calls, but he finally had someone who would miss him equally.

"I know," he muttered, wrapping his arms around you. "It's seven weeks of nothing."

You were crying in earnest now as you clung to him. "Nothing," you sobbed. "I won't even know if I'm supposed to collect you in San Diego or Norfolk when your deployment ends. And I won't know where you're being stationed."

"Fuck," he gasped. "Gorgeous, when I tell you that nobody would have much cared where I ended up before I met you, I mean it." He kissed you as you snuggled tighter against him. "As soon as I find out what's going on, I'll let you know."

"Seriously," you murmured, voice shaky. "You better tell me as soon as possible if it's San Diego or Norfolk in my future."

Bradley didn't know what else to say besides, "I fucking love you." He smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks as he added, "Are you really going to fly out to Norfolk and collect me if they make me stay in Virginia?"

You pulled away from him, eyes puffy with a scandalized look on your face as you said, "Of course. What kind of girlfriend do you think I am?"

The kind he was going to upgrade to his wife.

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

When you finally stopped crying, you were on the verge of a migraine, but you felt a bit calmer. Bradley got up to gather together some Advil, a glass of water, and a small gift wrapped in hideous paper.

"Your early Christmas present," he said, handing it to you after you swallowed two pills for your headache. "Well, it's actually kind of another gift for me, when you really think about it." He dropped down onto the couch again with his arm slung around your shoulders, and unlike him, you tore into the paper. Inside was a leather journal with little hand painted airplanes all over it. "Will you write in it every day so I can read it when I see you again?"

When you opened it to the first page, he had written you a note.

Gorgeous, I miss you with my whole heart. I can't wait to read about all of your adventures when I get home to you. Love, Bradley

"Yes," you whispered, closing it again so you could wrap your arms around his waist. "It'll just be a bunch of pages of me telling you how I argued with Jayden about his sloppy handwriting and how I asked Nia a hundred times to return to her seat. But yes, I'll write in it every day for you."

"I will eat up every page."

After that, he kept you by his side for the rest of the night. Even when you tried to dig around in the refrigerator to see if there was any food left, he was grabbing for you and kissing you. "You have no food," you said with a laugh, turning to face him. "What are we eating for dinner?"

"Hadn't thought that far," he muttered against your lips. "Just want you."

You took his face in your hands and ran your thumb along his scars. "If you don't eat, you'll get cranky. And you've got aircraft carrier food in your future."

Bradley grimaced and muttered, "Cabbage rolls," as he reached for his phone. "Let's get pizza today. And then maybe I'll try to talk the hostess at Salvatore's into letting us get takeout tomorrow. Then Thai on Christmas."

"And then you'll be gone," you whispered, dreading it all over again. "It never gets any easier, does it?"

"You're stuck with me, Gorgeous," he said, voice tinged with the tiniest bit of apprehension.

"I am." You kissed him before you said, "Pizza sounds perfect. Then I can help you pack a little more."

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

The last thing Bradley wanted to do was finish packing his duffle, but every time you looked up at him, eyes full of emotion, he was struck by several things. One, you really were so good at folding up his uniform components, something he noticed a few days ago. Two, every minute or so, you wrapped your arms around him, which made leaving with uncertainty so much harder. And three, you were absolutely nothing like Vanessa.

Last time when he packed to leave, he was treated to her incessant whining over the fact that he didn't want to take her out to dinner. She was always annoyed with him wanting a quiet night in. She was always annoyed by his job. It was so obvious that she never missed him or loved him the way you did as he watched you carefully fold one of his flight suits before tucking it in his bag.

"Gorgeous," he murmured, and as soon as your gaze met his, you had your arms wrapped around him again.

"That's enough for the night," you whispered, voice thick with emotion as he kissed the top of your head. Your face was pressed against his chest, and he could hear you trying to keep yourself calm. And god, he hated doing this to both of you.

"I agree," he replied, keeping you close while he tossed a few novels he'd been meaning to read in as well. He'd have plenty of time to read a whole stack.

You wiped your eyes on his shirt as you said, "Make sure you read at night and stay away from all the women."

Bradley tipped your chin up so you were looking at him again. "Surely you're not worried about that." You shook your head. "Good. But now that we're on the topic... be a good girl and don't talk to horny assholes."

You started laughing as you slipped out of his grasp, wiping at your tears as you said, "Never. Now let me add one more thing to your bag." As you disappeared from the bedroom, Bradley put his bag on the top of his dresser. If he had time, he would move some of his clothing around so you had room for your things when your lease was up. Otherwise you were going to have to fend for yourself in his house and just make decisions for him. If he just had more time with you, everything would be easier. The one promising thing would be returning in time for Valentine's Day and Career Day at your school. If he was allowed to come back to San Diego at all.

"Fuck," he groaned, hating this unsettled feeling that was expanding in his chest, but as soon as you walked back in, he started to feel better. Seven weeks without you was going to be painful when he had such a visceral reaction to your touch and your words.

"Just in case you feel like jotting down your own thoughts every day for me to read," you said before tucking the stationery kit in next to his uniforms. You slid a large envelope that looked like it was bursting at the seams inside as well and simply said, "Some more reading material for you," before pulling him toward the bed.

And that's when Bradley figured out just how to make you feel a little less alone when he was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

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

When you opened your eyes on Christmas Eve, you were already smiling. Your body was warm and tucked up against Bradley's, his big, heavy arm draped over you as he snored softly. You wanted to stay here and not move a muscle, because right now, everything was perfect. You could pretend like his duffle bag wasn't sitting on his dresser, mostly packed and ready to go. You could melt into the sweet ache deep inside from the hour he spent loving your body last night. You could close your eyes and go back to sleep.

Bradley's phone vibrated on his nightstand, and he groaned next to your ear. "Baby," he murmured, lips grazing your neck. "Don't get up yet."

You couldn't help but smile. "Your phone is vibrating. Not mine."

"Shit," he grunted, rolling away from you. Once he looked at his phone screen he seemed to wake up. "Nat's on her way to pick you up for girls' day."

"What are you talking about?"

You definitely hadn't planned a girls' day. Why would you want to miss out on any time with Bradley right now? You could have a day with Nat next week or next month when he was gone!

He had a little smile on his face as he pulled you close again for a kiss. "You better get dressed."

"Bradley! I'm not going out with Nat. You're leaving in two days!"

Naked and spectacular, he climbed out of bed and stretched. "Just for a bit. She wants to take you to get coffee, and if she tries to get me a Christmas present, I need you to make sure it doesn't suck."

"You planned this," you said, annoyed as he reached for you, pulling you away from the bed where you could pretend there was no scary uncertainty in your future.

"Just trust me," he whispered, holding you close. "Besides, I need some time to sweet talk someone at Salvatore's into letting me order dinner to-go."

You could handle an hour or two with his best friend while you counted down the time you had left before his flight out of San Diego. "Fine, but I'm wearing your sweatshirt, and I'll be thinking about you the whole time."

Bradley sent you down the walkway with a kiss, and he waved from the front door in just his underwear as you climbed into his best friend's car. "I won't keep you out too long," Natasha promised with a smirk. "I can already tell you want to get back to him."

"Why did he plan this?" you asked, wanting the answers he wouldn't give you while trying not to be rude. "No offense, because I would love to spend an entire girls' day with you, but why today?"

She simply turned up the Christmas songs on the radio and headed toward Starbucks with a smile on her face. "I was thinking after coffee we could hit up the mall for a few minutes? I need to find something truly awful to get for Bradley. I'm thinking some pink running shorts to match mine. High visibility colors are very important when you're out running, and I just don't think he fully appreciates that."

You laughed. "If you buy them, he'll probably just wear them to try to embarrass you."

"I don't embarrass easily," she said smoothly with a devilish grin. "And dare I say you might like to pick out a little something that you could wear as a going away treat?"

"Wear?" you asked before you quite knew what she meant.

"Sure. I mean, I don't want to know any specifics about what the two of you get up to, because gross, but deployments are long and lonely, and you're definitely going to miss each other."

While Bradley had seen all of your cutest underwear at this point, you'd never worn anything that you bought specifically with him in mind. Your cheeks grew warm as you thought about it. Truthfully you didn't even own anything terribly sexy.

"What would he even like?" you asked softly as she pulled into the Starbucks parking lot.

"On you?" she asked with a laugh. "Anything. Don't worry, we'll find something good."

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

When Natasha texted to inform him that you were on your way back to his house, Bradley quickly hid everything that had been out on his coffee table while he juggled his phone. The woman he was talking to on speakerphone wasn't falling for his lines at all.

"Listen," he told her, making sure there was no visible evidence of what he'd done in his living room. "I just really want tonight to be special for my girlfriend and I before I leave for my next deployment. Just one order of spaghetti and meatballs? That's all I'm asking."

There was a deep sigh followed by, "Be here promptly at 5:00 to pick it up. I'll take your credit card over the phone."

"Perfect," he replied with a smile, digging for his wallet. "The name is Bradley Bradshaw."

You walked in with shopping bags in your arms, and rushed toward him as he finished giving his credit card security code, and he pulled you in for a hug as he reassured the hostess from Salvatore's that he would be there at 5:00.

"Hi," he said, kissing you after he ended the call. "Did you have fun with Nat?

"So much fun," you told him with a smile. "We're going to try out a wine bar next week up in Oceanside." The idea of you hanging out with his friend while he was away made him feel calm, especially since Nat knew how important you were to him. "Also," you said, pressing your lips together nervously, "I think I'd like to sleep here for the rest of my winter break." Your volume dropped to a whisper. "I'm not sure if it will make me miss you more or less, but I want to be here if that's okay with you."

"I love that, Gorgeous," he replied easily. Hanging out with Natasha and then returning to his house where you belonged anyway felt right to him. "Knowing you're sleeping in my bed might result in some dirty notes from me," he said with a laugh as you bit your lip.

"Please," you whispered. "Yes. Write me dirty notes to read when you get back." Just when he was about to kiss you, he watched you bend and rummage around in a bag. "Also, this is your gift from Natasha." You handed him some bright pink fabric that he turned around in his hands, trying to figure out what it was. "And she told me to hold up the gift receipt for you."

When he finally figured out that it was a pair of ladies running shorts, he grimaced. "She's so annoying," he groaned, reaching for the gift receipt, but you quickly chuckled and tore it up. "What are you doing?"

"You're not allowed to return them." You dropped the bits of paper, and he tossed the shorts onto the couch.

"Whose side are you on here?" he asked, peppering your face with kisses. "Don't think for a second I won't just put a jock strap on and run in those shorts."

"I tried to tell her you would," you laughed as he scooped you up. "I kind of want to see it."

"Play your cards right," he murmured, grabbing his keys and taking you out to his Bronco. "Let's pick up dinner."

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

Your belly was full of spaghetti and meatballs when you managed to sneak away to the tiny laundry room and quickly hand wash your new bra and thong set while Bradley loaded the dishwasher. Nat assured you that he would enjoy this tiny thing, and you were trusting her here. You set both items aside to dry before walking back out to the kitchen.

"You don't have a Christmas tree," you remarked, wishing you'd picked one up today from one of the many parking lots trying to unload them at the last minute.

"I told you I don't really celebrate holidays."

"You're doing a great job of celebrating this one."

He washed his hands and tossed the towel aside. It was barely seven o'clock, but he asked, "You feel like calling it an early night?" You agreed, ready to feel his warmth along your entire body as you fell asleep.

You got undressed and climbed in bed, and he did the same. Bradley's hands were everywhere, but his lips were gentle on your neck and shoulder as he whispered your name. "I love you. It's going to kill me inside when I can't talk to my favorite pen pal. Last time, you had my heart pounding every time you sent me a new email."

Tears stung your eyes in the darkness; you'd done a pretty good job of holding it together all day, but this was going to be your undoing. "I promise, every time you think about me, I'll already be thinking about you, too."

Bradley's arm tightened around you, his thumb stroking your skin, soothing you along with his sweet words as you fell asleep.

When you woke up on Christmas Day, his body was still right behind yours where he belonged, but when you rolled over to look at his handsome face, you knew the hours were going to go by too quickly. "Morning, Gorgeous," he murmured, voice raspy from sleep as he cracked his eyes open. "Let's go see what Santa brought."

You didn't have any other gifts for him, unless you counted your new lingerie which you were saving for later after dinner. And the printer you bought so he could have some photos of you without his phone on the aircraft carrier. But when you got out to the living room, there was an envelope on the coffee table.

"What is it?" you asked cautiously as you picked it up. But your heart melted immediately. It was a gift card for the wine bar in Oceanside.

"There's enough on there for you and Nat to take a few trips up if you like the place."

"The two of you have been plotting, I see," you remarked, taking a deep breath before snuggling up against his chest. "But nothing will beat the horribly expensive bottle of wine I accidentally made you buy on our second date."

Deep laughter rumbled through Bradley's chest as he said, "The look on your face just made me love you more." You groaned thinking about it. "Come on, we've only got one day left and then seven weeks of nothing. Let's make French toast and have sex on the couch and eat Thai food and watch movies."

You wore his sweatshirt around all day, licked maple syrup from his lip and rode him until he was whining for you. The Thai noodles went perfectly with Home Alone. Then you took a shower together and deep conditioned his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp until his eyes closed.

"I'm going to miss this," he whispered after every single thing you did. When you toweled his hair dry, he looked at you with so much emotion. "I'm going to call you as soon as I know what's going on with the Pacific versus Atlantic Fleet. And either way, I'll try to be as patient as I possibly can, but I can't live without you, Baby."

"Bradley."

"Shit. Even the way you say my name makes me ache."

"I want you here with me. I already hate this." A sob escaped your lips without warning. "I want you to come back for Career Day."

The words were barely out of your mouth before he said, "I will be here for Career Day no matter what. Disappointing you is bad enough, but I don't want the eighteen kiddos to miss out on spending the day with their favorite Naval officer."

You laughed. "You're not disappointing me, Bradley. This is just hard, because I love you so much."

If you couldn't see a future with him, this would have been easier. He set you down on the bathroom vanity, and you watched him carefully shave around his mustache, kissing you randomly so you had to wipe shaving cream from your nose, and then he started collecting his toiletries for his duffle bag. He was naked and perfect as you stayed huddled in your towel, wondering if you could even manage to pull off wearing the items that were surely dry now and draped over his laundry room sink.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you ducked past him toward the door.

"Meet me in bed."

You rushed down the hallway and threw your towel in the empty washing machine as you took a minute to touch the pretty lace fabric before sliding the thong up your legs. Next you hooked the bra in place, and it didn't matter if you didn't look perfect, because you felt good. And you wanted him to have this memory.

When you cautiously strolled into the bedroom, Bradley was still naked, laying on top of the bedding, looking at a small piece of paper. "I'm just double checking my packing list, and I..." His gaze shifted to your body, and you did a little turn for him. The paper drifted to the floor as he sat up, his hand coming to rest on his cock. "Come here."

Biting your lip, you did as you were told. Bradley's feet swung over the edge of the bed, coming to rest on the floor as his cock bobbed between his thick thighs. "Here I am," you whispered, standing between his knees with your hands on his shoulders. "Your going away gift."

One strong arm wrapped around you, and you squeaked as he pulled you flush against him. He kissed the rounded tops of your breasts above your new bra, one after the other before looking up at you. "What did I do to deserve this?" he rasped, his nose running along the lace as his fingers tangled in your thong.

Already so turned on, you tried to answer him twice before words came out. "I wanted to give you a proper send off. Something extra special." Then he kissed your furled nipples through the flimsy bra cups and you moaned, "Something to think about when you're lonely."

His fingers were digging into your butt as he grunted. His wide brown eyes were fixed on your face as he parted his lips and sucked on your breast, the black lace wet everywhere now. He was being a little rough, but it felt like he was worshipping you at the same time, and when his lip found your neck, he asked, "Is this little getup new?"

"I bought it yesterday," you gasped as his fingers slipped inside your thong, stroking your wet pussy. "Just for you."

Then you were on your back with your head on the pillow, Bradley's heavy cock resting against your thigh as he hovered over you. "Just for me, huh?" he grunted, biceps flexed as he fought to keep his breathing under control.

You nodded, running your toes up along his calf and thigh until your leg was hooked around his hip, ready to give him whatever he wanted. "Of course it's just for you. I'll wear it again when we meet back in the San Diego airport or in Norfolk. And I'll wear it when you're away and I'm touching myself."

"Fuck," he growled, pulling your panties to the side and running his cock through your wetness before pushing himself so deep inside you that it took your breath away. When you whimpered, his lips crashed against yours as his hands dug beneath you to unhook your bra. "Touch yourself right now." When the flimsy lace ended up on the floor while Bradley fucked you, he guided your right hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips before placing them on your breast. "I want to watch."

Bradley's pupils were wide, lips parted. When you looked down your body as his cock disappeared inside you over and over again, you felt even more turned on. When you ran your fingers along your nipple and up between your bouncing breasts, his eyes followed your every move. "Like this?" you asked, feeling bold as you added your left hand as well.

He gave you a harder thrust. "Exactly like that, Gorgeous. And what are you going to think about when you do?"

"My boyfriend," you managed before his mouth met yours in a deep kiss that only lasted a few seconds. "I'm going to think about my boyfriend. I'll miss you so much."

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

Bradley's hips slowed to a gentler pace as he listened to you gasping and panting beneath him. There was no way you'd miss him as much as he'd miss you. He closed his eyes and thought about returning home to your arms in seven weeks and heading back to work in the Pacific Fleet. He hoped you'd appreciate the little surprises he was leaving behind for you. More than anything he wanted you to think about tonight when you got yourself off.

His rough excitement at you in the new lingerie melted into something sweeter as he fucked you with long, languid strokes. Your lips were on his neck and collarbones as he whispered how much he loved you over and over. When you came, it escalated quickly, sudden and loud as he ran his thumb across your clip. He couldn't hold on after that, and he let your body hold him in place with soft squeezes as he caught his breath.

"I have one more thing for you to pack," you whispered, voice ragged as you ran your fingers through his hair.

"I really hope you fit in my duffle," he mused, and you laughed softly.

You kissed his ear and whispered, "I bought a small photo printer since you won't be able to use your phone." He shivered at your words. "You can print out a photo or two of us together... or maybe you want to take a new one right now to print out?"

"Jesus," he grunted, kissing your lips. "You're spoiling me." He reached for his phone on the nightstand and snapped a few pictures of your fucked out face and your body with his cock still buried deep. "I am very spoiled."

When you stood and plugged in the printer with lips puffy from his mustache in just your thong, he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had his photo gallery open on his phone and his arm around your waist as he selected the picture you sent him ages ago with the sun setting behind you. "This one is an absolute necessity. So is this one of us together. I don't think I should take any with me where you're naked, just to be safe," he mused, and you threw your arms around him.

"You'll just have to use your imagination," you told him as the photos printed.

"That'll be easy with this fresh in my mind," he murmured, looking down at your tits pressed to his chest. "I'll be thinking about you nonstop."

Bradley's hold on your body was unrelenting as he dropped the photos into his duffle and led you back to bed. It was getting late, and his flight to Virginia was early. You snuggled up on his chest with a soft smile on your lips. "I hope you do. I hope you think about me constantly and write me notes."

He kissed your forehead. "Not just you... your whole class. Have to keep them interested in aviation. But you're my favorite pen pal."

You laughed and buried your face against his neck, and he could feel your breathing grow a little more ragged as you whispered, "I love you so much. Just be safe. I don't really care if we have to figure out long distance or relocation as long as you're safe, Bradley."

That's how he fell asleep, wrapped up in your arms with your sweet sentiments in his ear. And the next morning, when his alarm went off, he welcomed your tears, because they made him feel like he was important to a woman for the first time in his life. You cried softly as you sat on his lap and went over his packing list with him one more time, and your cheeks were wet as you kissed him.

Bradley let you button up his khaki uniform shirt for him, your fingers shaking as you smoothed down the fabric along his chest. "Thank you, Gorgeous," he whispered, watching helplessly as your face crumbled into more tears.

When he drove the Bronco to the airport, your fingers were linked with his in the silence as the light from the rising sun hit the buildings downtown, promising to bring another perfect day to southern California. His hand tightened around yours, knowing he was going to be flying into so much uncertainty. His voice sounded strangled to his own ears as he parked at the curb under the signage for departing flights. "This is it. I'll text and call you as much as I can when I land before they lock me down, but this is it for seven weeks."

You crawled onto his lap, holding him tight as he kissed you, and now his tears mingled with yours. "I love you, Bradley," you promised, and he believed you as he held you in his arms and climbed down onto the pavement. He pulled his duffle from the backseat and dropped it to the curb as he held you against him, unwilling to leave before he told you a few more things.

"I'll keep myself safe, but you need to do the same. If you need something, you call Natasha right away, okay?" You nodded against him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "My stuff is your stuff, so do whatever you want at the house and with my Bronco. And tell me you love me every day in the journal so I can read about it when I see you."

"I will," you sobbed as he finally set you down. "And I'll be waiting to hear you tell me if it's San Diego or Norfolk."

He swiped your tears away from your cheeks and kissed you one last time before he picked up his bag and headed for the door. When he turned back one last time, you were clutching his car keys and crying. "I love you, Gorgeous."

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

We'll see how they manage apart. I think she might do a bit better than Bradley will. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

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fyodior · 11 months

Text

alpha!toji x afab reader // more breedtober!! cw: toji in rut, lots of pregnancy/breeding talk, brief cockwarming, vaginal sex, toji is just Pathetic and Desperate. enjoy!!

want more breedtober?

“quit it, toji,” you scolded, smacking away the hand that crept closer between your thighs as his hips started to buck up into you.

currently naked from the waist down and a little bit pissed off, you were sat on toji’s lap at your desk, also trying to get some work done on your laptop. his hard, leaking cock was also buried deep inside you.

“can’t take it anymore, darlin’,” he grunted, gripping your hips tight. his face was bright red and dripping with sweat, forehead leaned against your back as he desperately tried to hold onto any semblance of self control he had left. it was quickly waning.

thought you could feel the way his heart was pumping in his chest and his breath quickening, you had already dedicated way too much time these past few days to taking care of toji in his rut and you really needed to get work done. your manager had been kind enough to allow you to work from home this week, but you still had to work. though toji, in this state, really struggled to understand that.

toji’s ruts hit him hard - there was no dose of rut or hormone suppressants that could touch them. he was absolutely insatiable, already horny again within minutes of his knot deflating from the last round. this was really unfortunate for you, his lover who still had a job.

so you promised if he let you get some work done typing out reports and emails, you’d sit on his cock and warm it while doing so. just thirty minutes was all you asked for, but he was struggling hard after only fifteen.

“can’t take it anymore,” he repeated, his tone more strangled this time.

“just fifteen more minutes, baby,” you attempted to soothe, checking the time on your laptop. you knew there was almost no chance on him lasting that much longer, but you figured you’d at least try.

it wasn’t like you weren’t horny too. his long, thick cock throbbed and leaked inside you, making you twitch and unable to keep your hips still. and you had lost focus on this email thread about ten minutes ago. the cockwarming was supposedly to be a relief thing until you could help him out, but clearly it wasn’t working.

“ok, fine,” you griped, closing your laptop and shoving it to the edge of the desk, knowing full well how feral toji was about to go.

“finally,” the poor man gasped.

standing up, he bent you over the desk with a little more force than he meant to, slightly knocking the air out of your lungs as your chest met the wood.

“toji,” you whined as he manhandled you, not even bothering to ask him to be gentler - you knew he was incapable of it at this point. there was no fighting biology.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he grunted.

his large frame enveloped you entirely, chest pressed against your back as a means for leverage before thrusting back into you. the length and girth of his cock was unlike you’d ever experienced before, leaving you choking and gasping for air when he bottomed out within seconds. at least being lucid enough to understand that, he gave you a moment to adjust, your fingers losing feeling where they were gripping the edge of the desk.

“you okay, baby?” toji asked.

“ ‘m fine, toj,” you breathed, eyes screwed shut. “you’re okay.” he didn’t need any more encouragement.

there wasn’t much buildup - he had already done plenty of it in his hormone-addled mind waiting for you to finish up. he just needed to get off so fucking bad. his hard, deep, purposeful thrusts left you breathless, grunting and groaning right into your ear and clouding your senses.

“gonna breed you so full of my, pups, darlin’, need to get you pregnant,” he babbled, kissing your neck and back as he blew them out. “want you carrying twins - or even triplets.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his ramblings about breeding you, brain clearly completely overtaken by his rut and primal need to breed you.

sweat matted his dark hair to his forehead and dripped down the sides of his face as his fatigued body worked hard to keep up with his uncontrollable impulses.

“need- you- pregnant-” he growled, each word punctuated with a hard thrust into your poor, abused pussy.

you could feel him in your guts he was fucking you so deep. normally, his thrusts were somewhat shallow and erratic when he was just trying to get off and feel normal again, but this session had morphed into something completely different. the goal now was to fuck precum and cum so deep into your pussy and coat your cervix to force your womb to take it - you needed to carry his pups.

a hand came to rest against your lower belly, gasping as you felt the way it bulged out at the presence of his cock. you started to imagine what that bulge might look like if it were babies instead of cock.

“feels so good, toj,” you decided to encourage. he grinned wide at that, a shaky hand running through your hair as he kissed the side of your face.

“yeah? feel g-good, pretty little thing? my cock feel good?” he was rambling once again.

toji could feel himself teetering on the edge, slowly being pushed further due to your words and you clenching tight around his length. the hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your ass as he bottomed out with every thrust, reveling in the tight, wet heat of your perfect cunt.

“fuck, gonna c-” he couldn’t even finish his sentence before his knot was swelling and he shot thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your pussy, even whining a bit. you couldn’t help but cry out as his thick knot suddenly stretched you out even wider than his cock did.

“sorry, baby,” he muttered, petting your hair as his orgasm finally brought him back to his senses. he remained draped over you as he waited for his knot to deflate.

“ ‘s okay, my love,” you chuckled, still out of breath. “hopefully you’re feeling better now.”

“always feel better when i’m with you,” he cooed, kissing your cheek. his knot very slowly began to shrink.

“though you definitely would look really hot pregnant.”

#toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

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ahundredtimesover · 8 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you.

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough.

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse.

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that.

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you.

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him.

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet.

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now.

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now.

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in.

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place.

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous.

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast.

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing.

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen.

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues.

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her.

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps.

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around.

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal.

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now.

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye.

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook.

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing.

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy.

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does.

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule.

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it.

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet.

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning.

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond.

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that.

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from.

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time.

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person.

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you.

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance.

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says.

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues.

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him.

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started.

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now.

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know.

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster.

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed.

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable.

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down.

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar.

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it.

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this.

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little.

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern - should not happen again.

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed.

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you.

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you.

“You may leave,” he instructs.

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask.

You’d never cared before, why the change now?

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you.

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this.

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps.

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask.

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs.

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now.

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything.

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is.

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual.

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in.

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents.

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement.

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do.

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in.

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while.

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated.

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous.

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little.

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling.

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place.

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too.

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug.

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that.

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be.

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again.

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece.

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are.

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak.

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time.

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips.

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too.

“Uh, yes,” you say.

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down.

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam.

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture.

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle.

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself.

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it.

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off.

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for.

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung.

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says.

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again.

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear.

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke.

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks.

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around.

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days.

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs.

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done.

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly.

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do.

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself.

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day.

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out.

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night.

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them.

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked.

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can.

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you.

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist.

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle.

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says.

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter.

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good.

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him.

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes.

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he.

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit.

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time.

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…”

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about.

“Like them.”

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair.

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients.

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side.

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table.

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why.

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time.

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there.

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal.

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at.

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace.

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after.

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though.

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk.

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way.

“Your girl?” He scoffs.

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you.

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you.

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts.

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top.

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead.

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing.

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes.

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably.

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…”

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins.

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–”

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body.

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs.

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom.

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting.

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be.

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot.

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds.

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters.

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave.

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you.

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you.

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter.

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away.

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him.

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri.

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously.

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience.

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily.

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do.

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you.

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car.

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything.

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #boss jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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armysantiny · 2 months

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A doctor’s worry – Zayne

P: Zayne x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, drabble | Inc: mc overworking themselves (as usual), Zayne worrying over mc, Yvonne being a good friend, Zayne's sweet tooth, some indulgent fluff for the soul, calling Zayne 'Doctor Li' bc that's how the title works infold, obv don't take my desc of hospital life too seriously lmao | Wc: 718 | W: mc has an injury but no graphic desc. | R: G

Min's notes: When I tell you I was just writing this all day at work lmao. I just love the way Zayne loves </3

"Hey, Zayne? Do we have the MRI results from last night's case?" Greyson's asking him, both doctors on their way to their respective offices after catching each other in the car park.

"We should do, I'll forward it on to you once I'm inside."

The hospital's busy today, everyone's schedule packed with either meetings, patient appointments, surgeries, or some unholy combination of all three. And for once, Zayne couldn't be more thankful that his schedule is much the same, the gruelling but rewarding hours of his double shift awaiting him.. Sat in his chair while he types out a letter of recommendation for a patient just gone to see a physiotherapist, Zayne sips on the glass of water on his desk, too occupied to do much else other than his job.

At least today, being busy out of his mind helps. It helps him not stress over y/n taking a mission in the No Hunt Zone. The hunter, for all their skill and natural talent, has a mind numbingly stubborn habit of overworking themselves to the point of injury and beyond. Which is why Zayne is trying to bury his concern underneath an avalanche of work, because y/n is working on a sprained ankle.

The doctor even managed to spot the beginning signs of swelling that morning before they left, but y/n was already out the door by the time he opened his mouth.

See you tonight love, they had said, don't push yourself too hard.

How cruel, to remind him to not push himself all the while leaving the vines of worry to bloom around his heart. But he loves y/n anyway, so they're not to blame when Zayne finds that he's no longer frustrated by the waiting, just longing for his hunter to return home so he can fuss over them until the vines relent until the next time they decide to put themselves at risk.

So lost in replying to emails, Zayne nearly doesn't hear the knock at the door, looking up from his screen moments before the knocking becomes more urgent.

"Come in."

"Doctor Li?" It's Yvonne, and Zayne's frigid politeness melts away a tad into something a bit more friendly. "You didn't show up for lunch... so I thought I'd take the liberty of bringing something up from the cafeteria. I recall y/n mentioning your affinity for sweet things?"

It's then, as he's taking the boxed lunch with a gentle thank you, that Zayne notices the separate box of two macarons that Yvonne's handing him. They're from his favourite café. Of course they are. Of course, his love would dutifully tell his colleagues what to do should he be too absorbed in his work. Astra above, he loves them.

When Yvonne leaves, clearly satisfied that the cardiovascular specialist isn't going to go hungry, Zayne allows himself to smile, his own heart fond and aching all the same.

"I'll save one for you."

In between his responsibilities and workload, the doctor hardly realises when the sun begins to set, painting the sky all kinds of pinks and oranges before, inevitably, the sky is dark. Moonlight shines through the gaps in his closed blinds, illuminating his desk in its cool light for a handful of minutes until Zayne is forced to get up and turn the lights on, fluorescent white irritating his eyes for a second. If y/n was here, they'd tell him to squint first, let his eyes adjust until he's comfortable. He can't help but think about them now, most of his tasks done for the day and his mind free enough to think about his lover, how much he misses them, would rather they stay in his arms, stay off their injury and rest...

His phone rings.

"Hello." His expression is soft.

"Zayne! Sorry for going no contact love," y/n says, clearly satisfied with their day. They're forgiven, as always. "I'm on my way back to the office, I'll see you in the hour?"

"Sure. I'll come and pick you up, you shouldn't be putting anymore strain on your ankle."

He can practically hear the amused rolling-of-eyes from y/n.

"Yes doctor~ see you soon! Love you!"

"Love you too, y/n." He hangs up the phone and takes a good look at his office. He can afford to leave a little early tonight.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

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#Writer Elf Minnie #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #l&ds zayne #zayne x reader #lnds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x you #l&ds fluff #l&ds drabble

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vettelsdarling · 1 year

Note

Darling, thank you for the AMAZING writing for my last request. <3 I am here with…HAMILTON! Here’s the prompt: 5+1: 5 times Lewis calls Y/N by a pet name and one time Y/N finds one for Lewis. I definitely think Lewis would shower his words of endearment and I am imagining a shy, blushing Y/N? Perhaps Y/N wants to find the perfect word/nickname to call her special person. Let your creativity run wild! I leave the rest up to you because I love your writings (obviously). Have fun!

𝐏𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

Lissie note… I am so glad you like my stuff<3 Thank you for this request!!! I’ve never really written anything like it before, but it’s an interesting prompt and I’m willing to give it a try!

Things to note

This is set in the 2020 season

Lewis and reader have been dating for a year and a half before that

Reader is an accountant

Tiffany appreciation

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tiniest bit of angst. Blink and you might miss it

Word Count: 4.2k+

Playlist recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @allwaysalleyway

You were walking home from your 9 to 5 job the day you met him. He’d been exploring the city he was to race in that coming weekend. With your face buried in your phone, aggressively replying to unanswered emails— you accidentally sealed your fate with the asphalt, tripping and falling onto the road. Luckily, it wasn’t an active one. He’d seen you scramble to scrape all your things together and rushed over to help you. Never had you seen such generosity from anyone before. You were used to people minding their own business if you fell or if you dropped something.

“You didn’t have to,” you’d said. He had a number of things in his arms that had spilled out of your bag… including feminine products. He hadn’t seemed to care though. He’d happily helped you load your things back to where they’d belonged.

“Of course I did.” You had managed to collect yourself before falling into conversation with him.

“You’re not from here, are you? I know most people in this town…” He was a new face. Not somebody who you’d seen before.

“Guilty as charged. I’m here for work.”

“What do you do?” It was forward and he had been taken aback but ultimately came up with something to string you along to.

“I’m an engineer… of sorts. You?” ‘Engineer’ made sense to you, as his style was very out there and the designer watches were more than your yearly salary.

“I’m just an accountant.” In stark contrast to him, you had on a white blouse and a grayscale checkered pencil skirt. Your ordinary uniform. Freedom was something you had to give up when you came in for work.

“I see… you work near here?” He had just been following you, not really paying any attention to where your feet had been taking you.

“Yeah, I do. About five minutes from here. Is your workplace near here or are you working from your house or hotel?” Your intention hadn’t been to pry, but the genuine curiosity drove you to ask him anyway.

“I guess it’s near? I can’t really say… if I’m being honest.” That was obviously not the best answer. He had every opportunity to tell you a white lie, but he slipped up somehow. Did it even matter though? He wasn’t going to see you again… was he?

Days turned into weeks. He had given you his number after getting you home safely that day. You hadn’t been in contact with him until he finally sent you a simple text: “Hey, it’s Lewis.” It had sent you spiralling. You hadn’t been sure whether to pursue the connection or let it slip. For better or worse though, you had replied with a short quip. Not intricate enough to suggest something, but not doing a full swing in the other direction either.

It was, however, enough to spark something between the two of you. A blossoming bud that turned into a bountiful garden. That was you and Lewis Hamilton.

1. Trophy wife

The two of you had been dating for a few years. He eventually cracked, and told you about his actual job on the second date. Though his true identity was a Google search away, it came as a shock to you. Never had you ever believed him to be famous. He was so down-to-earth and humble.

Over the course of your years of dating, he had tried to make you quit your job. Mostly because he wanted to support you, but also because he wanted to spend more time with you. Every waking moment he wanted to spend in your presence. You refused and turned down every offer he gave you. Dating a celebrity was already more than enough for you to handle. You wanted normalcy in your life. Even if that came in the shape of hell sent bosses who cared very little about your well-being.

“You know I can cover you. If that won’t sell you, then Roscoe must. You could take care of him whilst I’m gone.” It was another day of his notorious begging for him to take care of you. It was a sweet sentiment, but even living with him was too much.

“I’m already taking care of him. Lewis, you can’t just make me a trophy wife. That’s not who I am. I want to work,” you said begrudgingly and seated yourself by the kitchen island.

“Trophy wife? Please. You will never be some sort of arm candy for me to show off. I love you. I just want you to take a rest, love.” Lewis decided to deploy a deadly weapon. The pet name. If there was one weakness you had— it was whenever he referred to you with a pet name. It made you all weak in the knees and your feet would feel like jelly. Forget about cloud nine, you were swimming in warmth.

“That’s not fair, Lew. You can’t just do that to me.” You scrunched your nose at him and checked your phone for incoming notifications from your workplace text chain. Or so you thought it looked like. In reality, you were hiding your face from him. It was redder than the apple in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Hmm, you know, I’m not so sure what you mean by that, my love.” Oh, how you wished he would stop. It was hard to resist giving in. Especially when he paired it with such a precious smile. Who’d be able to peel their eyes from that?!

“Look, we aren’t talking about this right now. I’ll be on my way now,” you scoffed and left, leaving your lover with the last laugh. Once again, you let him have his victory.

2. Flatscreen

A few months passed before he tried his luck again. With a new offer. Lewis tried to reason with you, but just like always— you simply would not have it.

“No. Never in a million years,” you snapped and closed the fridge a little too aggressively, remembering to mutter a quiet “sorry”. The Brit even got up early that morning to make you breakfast in bed— just for good measure. If you were in a great mood, surely you’d be more agreeable. Yet… he was utterly wrong. You were headstrong and did not agree one bit.

“You need it, sweets.” Again with the pet names. That was the final nail in the coffin for his begging.

“You can’t just expect me to splurge on a flatscreen simply to watch you race on more pixels! I can watch you perfectly fine on our current TV, thank you very much.” You poured him a glass of orange juice and scooped some protein powder in it as well. He drank it all in one go.

“Splurge? You won’t need to. I’ll buy it for you, okay?” He crossed his arms confidently and made sure to smirk like he always did whenever he tried to prove something.

“Okay? What do you mean ‘okay’?! You will not buy me a brand new flatscreen, Lewis.” Your face was flushed and your frustration was only piling up.

“You can’t tempt me with those things you call me. That won’t work.” Who were you kidding? You lived for his little pet names and those brief moments he’d hold you in his arms while the two of you stared into the early morning view.

“Whatever you say, sugar.” Oh, how you wish you threw the juice in his face instead of offering it to him.

3. Restaurant

You were standing next to Tiffany in the Mercedes garage. Both of you were wearing large headphones whilst watching the screens showing your boyfriends. It was hard not to make noise whenever Lewis overtook someone, but you were just able to contain yourself.

Tiffany was surprisingly calm and collected, but wasn’t afraid to groan and sigh if Valterri slipped up. You weren’t the type to show much of anything unless it regarded Lewis. It was something that you’d grown up with. A habit of sorts.

“How long have you been with Lewis by now?” Tiffany asked with a slight tug of her lip.

“A few years now… I don’t think we’ll ever get tired of each other.” You said that as if he didn’t bug you with his endless blabbering about wanting to spoil you and give you every black card he owned.

“That is just too sweet! I can only wish that Valterri and I will last as long. I certainly love him.” In a way, you envied her position. She was a professional athlete, much like her partner, whilst you were stuck counting numbers behind a desk all day. She was gorgeous too… it was as if a strike of adoration hit you whenever she passed you in the paddock.

“Yeah… Lewis is something else.” You watched him speed past the camera on the screen. A smile spread across your face, knowing he was doing his best.

Lewis managed to secure a pole position, giving you a kiss as he saw you in the crowd with all of the Mercedes crew. Your heart swelled at the amount of attention he gave you rather than his engineers. Especially knowing he was dead serious about his career and his coworkers.

The podium celebration was magnificent. He sprayed the champagne as if he’d won the lottery. Butterflies formed in your stomach at his pure glee. He was adorable.

There was an after-party, but Lewis had other plans in mind. He wanted to take you out for the night. Even though you didn’t mind partying, there was something in him that held him back from letting you do so. It felt morally wrong of him to drag you along to his work retreats.

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” Your face was pressed up against the car window. His hand was on your thigh, gently caressing it. You could almost feel yourself dozing off.

“You’ll see when we get there, honey.” That one was fairly new. It felt more domestic too. That was probably why your cheeks were hotter than an iron.

“You’re crazy,” you said with a chuckle.

“Crazy about you.”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that was pretty lame.”

“Yeah, it was.” The two of you had a small laugh about it before turning some music on. The two of you had made a shared playlist. One that consisted mainly of your favourites. Since you had far too many, they outnumbered your boyfriend’s.

The ride was long, but the destination made it worth it. He’d driven you to a cliffside restaurant. It was quaint and cosy and had balcony seats. You could see the ocean and its waves cascading onto each other in a synchronized manner. It was beautiful. Lewis was a romantic. Not exactly what someone would expect at first glance, but he truly cared deeply for you and your needs. It was almost impossible to say no to him.

“Lewis… Thank you for this.”

“No, honey, thank you. I won today because you were here with me. It’s the first race you’ve come to in a while now.” The man was perfect.

“Yeah, and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to attend that many. My job won’t allow me and—”

“Hey- no- none of that. Stop making yourself the guilty party here. You’re doing what you love and you should not be worrying about me. I see you whenever I’m home and that’s enough for me.” Your fingers interlocked with his as he leaned in to peck your lips. The support he gave you couldn’t amount to anything you’d ever received from anyone. Even your own family.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

4. Bath

You were dead. Completely drained from your job. It felt like your body was that of a gigantic slug. You couldn’t move a single limb. Your brain had already checked out, so you were pretty much stuck. Being too tired to move, you decided to take a rest on the couch that you’d collapsed onto upon entering your shared home.

Your boss was a nightmare. He overworked everyone to the bone, and if you happened to pass into overtime, he refused to pay you for your extra hours. Was it fair? No. Was there anything you could do about it? Also no. You had to endure him for as long as possible. At least until you could find yourself a different company to work at. Quitting had been on your mind for some time, but with Lewis travelling all the time— you felt that you couldn’t just stay home all day. You still wanted to occupy yourself with a job.

The faint sound of Roscoe’s pattering paws could be heard inching closer. You didn’t mind looking after him. He was the sweetest and didn’t require much of you.

“I’ll take you out in 5,” you mumbled somewhat incoherently to the dog. He had politely plopped himself in front of the couch, staring at you with those adorable eyes. Your hand reached out to scratch him, as it would give you more time to stall and relax.

The more you contemplated whether or not to quit, the more you started leaning towards a self-destructive mindset. You wanted to work. You had to. It didn’t feel right for you to leech off of your boyfriend. That was simply not an option for you.

“I’m home!” You heard a strong voice boom throughout the house. It was Lewis, who had been out for most of the day. He was usually stuck in a billion meetings and was often hard to reach. You didn’t care about that though. You were just proud of him for working so hard. It made you feel guilty for not working nearly as hard as him.

“Hey, there you are. You don’t look well, are you ill?” He crouched down next to Roscoe to meet your face. Your eyes were closed due to the weight of your eyelids, but you lightly shook your head.

“I’m just really tired. Sorry, I didn’t take Roscoe out for his evening walk… I’m a bad dog mum.” Lewis chuckled lightly at the term you used to describe yourself. ‘Dog mum’.

“No need to worry about that. Your well-being comes first. How about I draw you a bath? I’ll take Roscoe out whilst you soak up some relaxing aromas.” If there was a ‘Boyfriend of the Year’ award, surely Lewis would win. He cared about the little things. The things you hadn’t even thought about.

“Thanks, Lew… you’re too good to me.”

“Nonsense. You deserve to be treated like royalty.” He stroked your cheek, causing your lips to tug upwards.

“I’ve been thinking about quitting.” You announced it out of the blue, but Lewis seemed unphased. Your eyes finally had some strength to stay open, so you looked straight into his. A mix of elation and calmness. That was your Lewis.

“That’s great. You shouldn’t work with a boss who doesn’t appreciate your efforts. Trust me, I would know. I’m lucky to have Toto, but I can’t even imagine working with some of the other team principals.” You knew about Williams’ fall from grace after the daughter of the former team principal stepped in.

“I don’t know though… I don’t want to stay home all day long and do nothing. I have to work, you know?” You had to face the music. There was no way you could quit and still be able to work. Accounting wasn’t special in Monaco. You were likely not someone a lot of companies were looking for.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I can take care of you, angel.”He really deployed your kryptonite. The name made your heart flutter as if the two of you were back in your honeymoon phase. It wasn’t fair.

“That’s a dirty trick, Lew. I’m not going to quit until I find a job I can replace my current one with. I’m sorry. It may not matter to you, but it matters to me.” Lewis got up and stretched before walking towards one of the many bathrooms,

“I’ll prepare a bath for you.”

5. New job

It had been a few months since you last brought up your work situation to Lewis. You had decided to continue until you’d eventually short-circuit. All that mattered was that you were a working girlfriend instead of a stay-at-home one. You didn’t have anything against that lifestyle in particular. It just wasn’t for you.

This day was special. You were cooking a vegan curry when Lewis came out of the shower to help you chop vegetables. It was a celebratory dish, as you had just been fired. Apparently, you had been doing ‘the bare minimum’ and that simply wasn’t good enough. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been devastating to be fired, but you were elated. It sure as hell was better than quitting.

“What’s got you in such a giddy mood?” Lewis came up behind you and hugged your waist. Your body leaned into his and it was as if you were floating on clouds. Fluffy clouds of love.

“I was fired.” He pulled away from you and got the cutting board out.

“This is great news! We should eat out tomorrow to celebrate.” He started chopping up some potatoes to dump in the pot.

“I was thinking this could be a celebration. Just you, me, and Roscoe. We could throw on a good movie and all.” Lewis didn’t oppose that idea. He smiled and nodded, continuing his feat with the veggies.

Then it hit you. You’d be jobless. You hadn’t found a job to replace the old one with. A pang of guilt hit you like a freight train. You somehow managed to overlook the fact all day. Your breathing became hard and heavy. You had to take a break.

“Woah woah woah, what’s wrong?” You saw Lewis with the kitchen knife and apron. His image was getting blurry from tears you simply couldn’t hold back.

“I thought we were celebrating? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He put down the knife, undid his apron, and pulled you out of the kitchen. Luckily nothing was boiling.

“I just… I’m jobless,” you sniffled through your tears. The salty liquid coated your lips, and you could taste the despair. You slowly sank down onto the floor with him following suit.

“Well, that was the point,” said Lewis. You found it oddly comforting, but guilt still clung to every part of you. Like poison, you didn’t have the antidote for.

“I don’t want to burden you like that.” You were able to speak clearer after Lewis rubbed your back for support.

“You could never be a burden to me, okay? You are the reason I’m still standing here today with win after win. You motivate me to keep being strong and keep aiming for higher heights. How could you ever be a burden to me?” His words were like a warm hug. Your tensed muscles relaxed a little bit.

“I don’t know… I’ve never not worked before. I don’t exactly come from wealth,” you sighed. As much as it was about burdening your boyfriend— it was about your own values. Coming from what most would consider ‘middle class’, you always had to work harder than your peers. Monaco didn’t have time to wait around for you, so you always tried so desperately to catch up. It felt embarrassing. Your home country was just as forward and busy. There was never time for you. Working hard was a lifestyle that you had to pull off.

“Do you think I came from wealth? I didn’t. I worked my ass off to get here, and now that I have the means to spoil you. I want you to feel that you can take a rest, okay?” His reasoning was flawed to you. There was something about it that just couldn’t sway you.

“Lewis, I can’t be your trophy wife. I can’t.” You shook your head and swallowed hard.

“You won’t be. Think of this as your new job. You’ll have the responsibility to take care of Roscoe and keep the house clean and habitable. Is that not considered work?” There was no other offer on the table and there was no other option. The only way for you was that.

“Basically a housewife.”

“Darling, please.” Your stomach did cartwheels and the butterflies tumbled around in there.

“It’s okay. I’ll just have to make do,” you sighed and rested your face in your hands.

“Hey, at least you’ll be able to come to more of my races— if not all.” Wow, what a consolation… but he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“You know what? I have to make a call. I’ll be right back.” Lewis got up and made his way to the guest room for privacy. Meanwhile, you stared into the white ceiling. You felt so tiny. As if you were just a small speck of dust. An inconvenience. Muffled sounds were coming from the room Lewis had gone into. You could tell that it was about his job. Something that you already missed. Your boss was terrible, but at least you had something to do every day. At least he let you have 10-minute lunch breaks. Which, in retrospect, was far from enough time.

It took a while, but Lewis finally came back. His face looked as if he couldn’t contain himself. He seemed excited?

“Guess what.” He crouched down to meet your eyes.

“What?”

“You have a job.” He smiled and reached for your hand, helping you stand by supporting your waist.

“No need to rub in my new position as a housewife. I get it, Lew.”

“No. I pulled a few strings, and you’re going to be in the accounting department on my team.” Your eyes flew open in shock.

“What? Wait what?!”

“You get to work from home too, so it’s sort of like a compromise. You’ll be able to come to my races and you’ll be working like any other person. Your pay is higher than your last job too.” It was all too much, but you couldn’t turn it down after he’d just done something so grand for you. It’d be rude.

“Lewis, I genuinely don’t even know what to say. I mean, this is just amazing.” Your tears were all dried up on your face, and your eyes were gorgeous from them.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, you know?”

“I’ve told you so many times now; that I would do anything for you, darling.” Lewis was truly out of this world. His generosity and humbleness were his character. That was him. That was all yours.

+1. Handsome

The time had come for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix to commence. Lewis was in the running position to bring home yet another championship. He had been dominating all season, so there wasn’t really a question of whether or not he’d win. That fate was sealed. It was just a matter of if he could snatch the last win of the season. You certainly didn’t doubt his skills paired with his car. He was basically unstoppable.

“You did great in the qualifying sessions, I’m sure you’ll do great now. You’re starting from pole position. You’ve got this in the bag, I’d say so.” You smiled as he got into his race suit.

“I have no doubts. I’ve got my lucky charm with me.” He looked at you with a silly smile plastered onto his face. Cute.

“I believe in you, handsome,” you cooed and winked at him before walking away, leaving him with the effects of having been called a pet name, when he’s usually the one to get the fun out of you. He felt his chest tighten and tingle. Perhaps the race would be in his favour after that one.

You were seated next to Tiffany again. The two of you were too focused on the race to have an actual conversation. You were completely immersed in your boyfriend, hoping that he’d not only win but also stay safe. You were convinced he wouldn’t do anything reckless though. That wasn’t like him.

He didn’t win, but at the very least he scored a podium finish. You were still proud of him. He was the 2020 world champion.

The crowd surge towards the podium stand nearly crushed you several times, but you were able to get in front of everyone else to receive a heartwarming kiss from your lover.

“You did so well out there, baby, I’m so proud!” His heart nearly stopped when you called him that. You pulled him in for a hug, before letting the engineers embrace him. The smile on his face was immaculate, and you couldn’t wait for the ceremony where he’d rightfully receive his trophy. You had been to the same ceremony a year prior, but something felt much more special about this year. Both you and Lewis had grown so much over the span of it, it didn’t feel real, but at the same time— you couldn’t remember how it felt before.

Safe to say, you were definitely going to stick around for a long time. Losing his lucky charm would be detrimental after all.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

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ameliathornromance · 4 months

Text

“Do you really have to have the blindfold over my eyes?” You asked, hands gripped onto your Orcs for dear life.

“It’s called a surprise for a reason, Love.” Your Orc Boyfriend chuckled.

You didn’t have time for this. At all.

At home, you had a whole stack of paper work to get to along with a whole days worth of data input on that wretched spreadsheet your boss had left you.

It had been weeks since you had had a proper break, or any time to relax for that matter. There just seemed to be more tasks hidden under other tasks, keeping you apart from your Orc Boyfriend and spending any time with him.

The list just went on and on and on. And there never came a time where you could take a break.

While you loved your Orc Boyfriend with all your heart, there wasn’t anyway that you could just abandon your work. Both of you really needed the money at the moment, mostly because of some ridiculous bill that had come out of nowhere.

He was working hard too, but got easier hours for his job since he was an Orc and worked on construction sites, doing heavy lifting.

At least he got evenings off.

But you couldn't afford to take the time off.

So, you put your head down and worked. With the amount of work you had, you couldn't even get into bed until the early morning. And that's if you had a good night of finishing off paper work.

If you didn’t turn in the required amount of data sheets by midnight, all Hell would break loose in the office, almost surely accompanied by the Banshee-like shrieks of Thomas, your Manager, over the phone.

Your Orc Boyfriend heard Thomas' bellows one time and practically had to wrestle him to stay in the flat you lived in.

"With all that work you do, and he talks to you like that?" He snorted, "pathetic. I ought to thump him."

Your work load had doubled in the last two weeks, creating double the amount of work you’d normally have to do.

The reasons for this were unclear, something about downsizing the company or mass lay offs? Rumour had it that the company was preparing for declaring bankruptcy, but there was nothing confirmed so far.

What would it help with your current predicament anyway? It’s not like the answer would decrease your work load.

The sooner you got through it all, the more time you would have to spend with your Boyfriend.

Due to this increase, you hadn't been able to spend any time together as a couple. Amazingly, your Orc never once complained, apart from that one time with your Manager.

As you had just sent the last email of the day, rolled up your sleeves to get started on the disrespectfully large pile of documents beside you, your Orc had knocked on your office door.

“What?” You snapped. Regret instantly washed over you as you heard your office door creek open.

“Are you done with your work?” Your Orc’s soft voice made your heart squeeze.

“Almost.” You rubbed your eyes. “Why? What’s up?”

Swivelling around in your chair, you started at his appearance. A shirt and tie clung to his massive figure, a blazer and smart trousers on top of that. His long hair had been slicked back into a fishtail plait that draped over his shoulder.

Blood drained from your face. Was there a family event going on? You’d been so buried in work recently, you could have completely forgotten about large events.

“Go and get dressed in something nice.” He told you, fiddling with his cuff-links. "We're going out."

“Hun, I’m really sorry I can’t I-”

“Just trust me,” your Orc smiled. “Please?”

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that you really didn’t have anytime for fun and games… Oh, but you missed looking at him. You missed being around him and his company.

The papers could wait. The Manager would just have to eat the late papers.

“Alright.” You walked out of the room and got dressed.

What was your Orc planning? You had no idea. You knew you couldn’t deny him. After weeks and weeks of being cooped up in your home office, you couldn’t ignore that your Orc probably felt lonely.

Guilt washed over you as the two of you got in the car. “You look beautiful.” He told you as he opened the car door for you.

You gave a sad smile as he closed your door. After being so unavailable, you felt as though you didn't deserve such nice compliments.

“Thank you… I’m sorry I haven’t been around recently.” You said, your Orc clambering into the drivers seat.

He gave a shrug as he backed the car out of the driveway, “here, put this on.” He held out a black cloth to you as he got onto the road.

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question it. After tying it around your head, you asked: “where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

After a few minutes, the car stopped and your Orc opened the car door for you.

Harsh gusts of wind billowed around you, making you wince at the force of nature. Salty air stung your nostrils as your Orc guided you away from the car.

And so, here you are now. Blindfolded and gripping on to your Orc Boyfriend for dear life.

You gave his hands a squeeze.

“I’m still here, it’s okay.” He told you. The wind settled, the two of you stopped walking.

The ground beneath your feet was uneven and shifted easily. “Okay, you can take off the blindfold now.”

Reaching behind you, tugging on the tail of the bow around your head, the blindfold fell away.

Your jaw dropped.

A table, draped in a white table cloth stood at the edge of the beach. Plates and wine glasses adorned the top of it, along with your favourite glass of wine cooling in a silver ice bucket.

Backdropping the scene, the sun glittered over the sea, golden sand sparkling in it’s light.

“What-”

“You work so hard, put up with so much crap from that man.” His voice dripped with disdain at the mere mention of your manager, “I thought you’d need a nice break from reality... And I miss having you around." Your Orc admitted, voice twinging. "I thought I'd need something super nice and distant from the house to make sure you get a decent breather. So, I made this.”

You approached the setting. Salty air stinging your eyes, you sniffled. “I…”

Your Orc joined you and wrapped you in his arms.

All the stress and pressure rose up from inside you, eyes burning.

Fighting back tears, you buried your forehead on your boyfriends chest. You squeezed him tightly around the middle, “I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay sweetheart.” He rubbed your back soothingly.

The words sent you over the edge. Angry tears rolling down your cheeks, you looked up at him. “No, it’s not okay!” You sniffed. “I should be better for you, I don’t deserve this!”

“Of course you do!” Your Orc pulled away and wiped your tears from your cheeks. “You put up with so much and work hard! That bill came out of nowhere, shit happens honey, I understand why we haven't been spending time together-"

“But that’s no excuse to ignore you. You're just as important.” Squeezing your eyes tightly shut, you grimaced. “I’ll tell Thomas to kiss my ass,” you declared, “I hate working for him and that company! They’re going to be shut down anyway, I’ll make sure to quit as soon as I get back!” Your once coherent words became wails.

Your Orc pulled you into his arms and squeezed you tightly, “oh Love…” He rocked you back and forth, the way a ship rocks its sailors to sleep.

“Let's worry about that later. C’mon, let’s enjoy dinner while we catch up, okay?”

Tears finally drying up, you nodded. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

#monster lover #orc fiction #monster romance #orc boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #monster x female #orc x reader #monster x you #orc romance #modern!orc x reader

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beom-pyu · 1 year

Text

nights ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ huening kai

huening kai x fem!reader , tags; established relationship , tiniest bit of angst , nsfw , emotional hurt/comfort , cute bf!kai , misunderstandings , he's had a long day, okay?!?! , u make it up to him tho!!! , kai luvs u , fluff , this is so soft i can only write soft stuff HELP , kai almost cries :(( , you call kai "angel"

warnings: smut (minors dni!!) , insecure kai , riding , unprotected sex , cumming inside , slight dom reader? u take the lead , marking (hickies) , praise praise praise , tit sucking , cockwarming

a/n: hiiii!! its been so long since i've posted a fic! currently wrapping up this semester :3 but thank you all for 350+ followers!!! i know it may seem small but all of your support really makes me so sososos happy and im so thankful for u all! now here's some cute bf kai for ur enjoyment hehe

wc: 3.2k+

“i am literally on the verge of quitting this damn job,” you groan with your phone pressed against your ear, lying horizontally on the couch in one of kai’s shirts and panties as some random drama plays on the t.v. in the background.

this has been going on for weeks—your lazy boss has been assigning you and your coworkers extra reports so he can go on vacation, leaving your entire division working overtime almost every night. you are both stressed and drained, fed up with your higher-up’s mistreatment.

“i hear you. how did we end up with the worst boss to grace this earth?” your coworker, sakura, whines into the mic in agreement.

the sound of keys at the door seizes your attention, pulling your phone away from your ear for a second to check the time. 9:15 p.m. kai’s schedule must’ve ended earlier today.

“hey, sakura, my boyfriend just got home so i’ll text you.” you give kai a small smile and wave as he enters your apartment, his exhausted eyes brightening at the sight of you. he slips his shoes and jacket off quietly as to not disturb your call while you and your coworkers say your goodbyes.

once you’ve hung up, you motion kai over to your spot on the couch as you try to sit up, giggling once his entire body flops directly on top of you. he buries his head into your clothed stomach, mumbling out a discernable sentence into your belly as his arms come to wrap around you.

“what was that, angel?” you laugh out as he mumbles something again before his head turns to the side, his eyes closing as your fingers tangle into his hair.

“said i missed you. and you smell nice,” he speaks sleepily, nuzzling his cheek against your shirt. you let out a chuckle, gently running your fingers through his hair.

“i missed you too, angel. how was your day?”

kai simply whines in response to your question and you take that as a good enough answer—you understand right away, tapping his cheek so that he can raise his head. he looks up at you, his fluffy hair bouncing a bit, falling into his eyes. your heart flips at the adorable sight.

“rough day, hm?” you ask as you push his hair back and he nods with a little pout, his head flopping back down.

“so busy,” is all he replies with and you automatically understand, your fingers massaging his scalp. “just gonna rest my eyes…”

and you’re sure he’s already falling asleep as he goes dead silent in your hold. you chuckle at your teddy bear of a boyfriend before your phone dings with a notification. you grab the device and you immediately have to suppress an annoyed groan at the email from your boss. you’ve already clocked out and he’s still assigning you more work.

you open your messages to text sakura.

you: he just emailed me another report to finish this week

you: like, can’t he do it himself???

you feel kai nuzzle himself further into you, shuffling around a bit before going still again. your hand is still mindlessly playing with hair before you get another notification.

sakura: and guess who just called me back in.

you: no way. is he being serious rn?

sakura: yup. completely.

sakura: he must’ve lost his mind

sakura: if he even had one to begin with

you: he’s literally so annoying wtf

you: i can’t stand him

you: idk how much longer i can put up with him tbh

“can we watch a movie?” kai suddenly mumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. you smile at his sleepy tone, your fingers stilling in his hair.

“i thought you were tired?” you inquire playfully.

“wanna spend more time with you,” kai speaks nonchalantly—but you’re sure your heart explodes in your chest at the simple words. you love him so much.

“let me go get some snacks and you pick the movie.”

it takes a good 2 minutes to finally get kai to move off of your body—complete with a few whines and grabby hands—but the mission is successful nonetheless. you toss your phone onto the couch before heading into the kitchen, rummaging around in the cabinets for popcorn.

it takes much longer than you intended, already hearing a movie begin to play on the screen as you pour the freshly popped food into a big bowl, grabbing some drinks out of the fridge as well.

kai gives you a stiff smile as you walk back into the room, arms full of snacks. you shoot him a questioning look, but his eyes are already glued back onto the t.v. screen. it is pretty dark, so maybe you didn’t see correctly—but you are sure you saw tears in his eyes too.

“you okay, angel?” you ask as you set the popcorn and drinks out on the coffee table, your eyes flickering over to him in between every movement. he looks over at you quickly before nodding slightly.

“mhm. just sleepy.” he offers you a faint smile before turning back to the movie. you feel a little uneasy at the response, but he did say he had a hard day and you don’t want to push him any further. you take a seat next to him, pulling your legs up to your chest before grabbing your phone to see if sakura has texted you back.

“babe…?” kai starts, slow and unsure. you lift your head from your phone to give him your attention, taking note of the way his hands wring in his lap, his leg bouncing anxiously.

“yea?” you ask, tossing your phone to the side to turn your body toward him. his eyes flicker up to yours nervously before darting away.

“i—nothing. nevermind,” he awkwardly laughs, shaking his head slightly as he tries to focus back on the t.v.

worry fills your body at his actions—if there’s one thing you knew about kai, it would be when he has something on his mind. and you can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue by the way his leg continues to bounce, his mind clearly off somewhere far away.

you pout a bit, moving to straddle his lap, successfully gaining his attention. his eyes shoot up to yours and it’s only now that you can clearly see the slight glossiness of his orbs, tears pooling in his waterline.

“angel, what’s wrong?” you ask, your hands immediately coming up to hold his face. kai rarely ever cries, especially around you, so your gut churns with concern as he bites his lip and looks away from you, hands clenched at his sides.

“i’m sorry,” kai mumbles out, looking down at his lap. you let out a tiny noise of disagreement, your thumbs grazing his cheeks in an attempt to comfort him—yet he still continues to avoid your eyes.

“why are you apologizing?” you raise a hand to brush some of his dark hair out of his face. kai shakes his head again, his locks falling right back into his eyes.

“i’m sorry for being annoying—i just had a rough day and… i didn’t mean to be clingy and make you uncomfortable. i’m sorry, i won’t do it again. just—just don’t leave me, please.”

all of kai’s words rush out in a single breath, his voice slightly cracking at that last sentence, his body trembling slightly. you struggle to keep up, your brows furrowed in confusion.

“kai, angel, look at me,” you speak and despite his initial apprehension, his head lifts at your words. his eyes are shiny with tears as you cradle his face. “what are you talking about, my love? where is all of this coming from?”

“you… you left your phone unlocked when you got up—i didn’t mean to snoop but i saw your texts…” his voice is quiet and filled with sadness as he explains. your eyes widen as realization dawns on you, letting out a sigh of relief. this time kai’s head tilts in confusion, a pout settled on his lips.

“kai, i was ranting about my boss. you know—how he’s been making me work overtime lately?”

you watch with fondness as his cheeks redden, lips pursed shut. you can’t help but giggle as his hands shoot up to cover his face, covering your hands with his own.

“i’m so stupid,” his muffled voice sounds from behind his large hands. you laugh a bit—just because he’s so cute—moving your hands to pry his own from his face. an embarrassed smile rests on his lips and you are quick to peck them, once, twice, before leaning back.

“you’re not stupid, angel. it was just a little misunderstanding,” you giggle and he whines, his hands covering his face again. “come here, cutie.”

his harmonic laugh fills your ears as you lean in close to gently move his hands out of the way, kissing him again. you feel his body slowly unwind as your lips move against his, your hands replacing his own as you cup his cheek, pressing your body close to him.

when you separate, he’s out of breath, his hands hovering at your sides as you gaze down at him lovingly. you notice how perfectly placed you are in his lap, slightly rolling your hips down onto him—his lips part at the action, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“just relax, angel. let me do the work, okay?”

your hands are still on his cheeks as his eyes glimmer up at you, still wet and glistening. he nods in response, his mouth hanging open slightly as he stares at you in awe. so cute. you smile down at him before pressing your lips against his, your hands sliding into his hair.

kai softens into your touch, his hovering hands finally resting on your hips, holding you steady in his lap. you moan a bit as his teeth eagerly nip at your bottom lip, tongue swiping across shortly after to ease the sting. his hips move up against yours, trying to create any friction possible. he’s already hard, you notice, feeling his thick erection pressing against your core.

you pull away from the kiss to take a good look at his pretty face, his lips slick with your spit, a slight pink resting on his cheekbones. you can’t resist the urge to lean down to kiss up his jaw, pecking that spot under his ear that makes his body rack with shivers. he whines quietly as you suck marks onto his skin, still slightly sticky with sweat from his long day.

“do you wanna fuck me, angel?” you whisper low in his ear—and he quite literally moans at your words, nodding quickly as his hands grip your hips tighter, his hips bucking up into your clothed core.

“yes, yes, please,” he pants, already tugging at your clothes to get them off of your body. you giggle at his enthusiasm, letting him pull your shirt over your head. the movie running in the background does little to nothing to cancel out the heavy breathing as you wrap your arms around kai’s neck, arching your back a bit as he takes one of your sensitive buds into his mouth.

his tongue swirls around your nipple, his hands coming up to grope your boobs, loving how soft and bouncy there are. his hips move against you impatiently, but you know he won’t do anything without your word.

“my good boy,” you sigh out, the flashing lights from the t.v casting a sparkly reflection in his dark eyes. you smile dreamily at him, cupping the side of his face in your hand before you lean down to kiss him again.

his hands roam your body with such determination and your mind grows muddled with every kiss to your chest and brush of his fingertips against your heated skin. you can feel yourself leaking through your panties as you grind against him. you sit back a bit to grab the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up.

“i wanna see you too,” you speak as you help him take it off. you’ll never get used to how gorgeous he is—you know he’s been working out even more recently, and the fruits of his labor are definitely starting to show. his pecs are prominent as you lightly drag your nails over his feverish skin, hearing the strained moan he lets out at the touch. always so sensitive.

you trail your fingers down to his stomach and he lets his head fall back with a sigh. you lean in to press fluttery kisses to his bared neck and a low moan leaves his lips as you bite onto his skin. he smells like the cologne that you had gifted him for his birthday and the scent makes your stomach flip with anticipation.

“all mine,” you mumble and his hips buck up again, his head lulling to the side to give you more access to his neck.

“all yours, all yours,” he echoes out, his hands running up and down the sides of your body. you feel your core pulse when he brings a hand down to rub your clit through your panties, rolling your hips against his fingers.

your actions are feverish as your fingers trail lower to the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling his pants and underwear back in one swift motion. his crying dick slaps against his stomach at the action, already leaking glistening precum that leaves a trail across his lower stomach. his tip is an angry red and you have to resist the urge to get down on your knees and have a taste for yourself.

kai’s hands are obediently still on your hips as he waits for your next move, eyes flickering across your face. you give him a small smile before placing your cupped hand right below his mouth, cocking your head to the side.

“spit.”

and he does—a string of saliva leaving his mouth, dropping into the palm of your hand, dripping off of his lips. the broken moan that leaves his lips is music to your ears as you grab onto his erection with your slicked-up hand, spreading his own spit over the length.

“you listen so well, angel,” you breathe out, watching as he preens at your praise, a tiny smile finding its way onto his face. he looks so gorgeous—with his dark hair roused and in his eyes, cheeks flushed, his beauty marks sitting on his skin like stars in the sky.

you lean in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his lips, his tongue immediately swiping over your bottom lip. he pants into your mouth, whining softly when you squeeze his dick a little too hard, his hips shaking as he tries not to thrust up into your hand.

you have mercy on him though—already feeling yourself leaking onto his pants. you pull your panties to the side, lining yourself up with his dick. his eyes never leave yours, staring at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes as you rub his tip in between your folds; a whimper leaves his lips as you slowly sink down on him, your eyes fluttering at how full you already feel.

his dick is thick and long, filling you up perfectly—as if your cunt was made for him. your legs slightly shake at the feeling, your free hand resting on his shoulder to hold yourself steady as you begin to bounce on his cock, soft moans leaving your lips as his tip hits your cervix every time.

“so good, angel. so big, fuck,” you whine and kai’s fingers tighten on your waist, subtly helping you move up and down on him. your moans mix together beautifully, loving the way he whimpers when your walls clench around him, his hands running up your back and down your thighs, touching every part of you in his reach.

you can’t even chastise him when he begins thrusting up into you, his head thrown back against the couch as he watches you through hooded eyes. your bouncing tits put him in a trance, his hand coming up to brush over your hard nipples. your pussy gushes and soaks his lap, eyes screwed shut from how addicting his cock is, twitching inside of your cunt.

every thrust into your heat makes your stomach flip with pleasure, getting lost in the way his hips snap against yours perfectly. you can tell he’s getting close too by the way his rhythm falters—his moans are high and breathy, his body shaking slightly as you rock your hips back and forth.

“can i—fuck, can i cum, please?” kai stutters out as he lifts his head to rest his forehead against yours.

“fill me up, angel. i’m all yours.”

his heavy pants fan your lips and you capture his again, moaning at the way he hastily licks into your mouth. you can already feel your high crashing upon you with one last stroke, your own whimpers falling deaf to your ears as his moans tip you over the edge. your body buzzes with electricity as your pussy pulsates around him, feeling him pump his thick ropes of cum into you at the action.

you swallow his moans as his hips thrust up into you a few more times before slowing to a stop, his tongue swirling with yours, swiping over your teeth, pulling away to kiss down your neck—as if he can’t get enough of you. you let your body fall forward onto his chest, your breath fanning against his neck.

you’re both quiet as you come down from your highs, the movie on the screen long forgotten. once your arms stop feeling like jelly, you sit up, finding kai’s eyes easily in the darkness of the living room.

he’s completely ruined—lips shiny and red, his neck and ears the same color. soft marks are already blooming on his skin from your ministrations and you find yourself lightly brushing over them, pressing into the bruises with the pads of your fingers. kai’s eyes don’t break away from your gaze as he bites his lip at the slight pain, his dick twitching inside of you. good to know.

“i love you, angel. you did so well,” you smile down at him and you swear his ears go even redder as your fingers stroke his hair. “please don’t ever think for a second that i would leave you, okay?”

kai nods quickly, leaning into your touch like a puppy.

“i love you,” he responds, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his chest. you let out a small noise of surprise at the quick movement, but melt into his embrace even quicker. his hold on you is strong as you rest your head against his shoulder.

“can we just stay like this for a bit?” kai mumbles, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. you giggle a bit, nodding in response. his dick is warm and snug inside of you, trapping his cum inside of you. his body feels like home against yours as he pecks your skin, and you let your eyes flutter shut in the arms of the one you love most.

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billiedeansbitch · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary: Larissa's unable to sleep and it's up to you find a solution

a/n: wrote this one because my heart craves for something soft and smutty :'))

warning/s: NSFW. soft smut.

Most often than not, Larissa stirs awake in the middle of the night, she slowly unravels your arm around her middle and softly, ever so gently, moves to pry herself off from your embrace and off the bed. Quickly, she would tuck her pillow under your arm to give you something to cuddle with. And a kiss on your cheek before she leaves.

Tonight was no different, she gets up, tucks a pillow next to you, kisses your forehead and puts her robe on before she leaves the bedroom, tiptoeing all the way to her private study. It has always been like this since she can remember, she wakes up and never goes back to sleep no matter how exhausted her body feels. She considers booking an appointment with the new therapist in Jericho but never does.

Larissa sighs and opens her laptop. She does nothing but stare at the angry red notification of her unread emails.

The door creaks as it is being pushed open, her gaze shifting and that’s when she finds you, standing there with a sleepy look on your face, your hair untamed, the strap of your tank top fell from your left shoulder. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” The yawn that follows makes Larissa’s lips curl, and while she feels guilty to not have been by your side, she feels incredibly warm seeing this sight in front of her.

You walk in, shutting the door behind you, “Can’t sleep again?” you ask while settling yourself on the couch. You heard her mumble confirming that she, in fact, can’t sleep again. “Come here, love.” you told her, opening your arms and prompting her to come.

Larissa looks vulnerable and tired, she sits down next to you but you tug her arm and motion for her to lay on top of you with her head on your chest, she refuses and grumbles about being “too big” and “too heavy” which you dismiss with a glare. Defeated, she settles on the position you told her to.

She’s tensed, from her muscles to her breathing, you know she’s holding herself back, “Let go, baby. It’s okay. You’ve been on top of me for more than one occasion and I’ve been fine. You’re not going to break me. Just let go.”

Eventually you feel her knots loosen after a while of whispering sweet nothings as you hold her closer, your lips leaving tender kisses on top of her head. You feel her letting go. “That’s it, my love. Good job.” you place another reward on her forehead making her blush.

“I love you.” she mumbles, nestling her face to the crook of your neck and her warm, steady breathing brushes against your skin rendering your breath to halt for a second, your mind rebooting itself. “I–I love you, too.” and you feel her smirk against you.

You continue the idle work of your fingers as they run through her silken silver locks, “What’s keeping you up, sweetheart?” silence. No answer. You thought she’s gone to sleep but she shifts, pulling away from your neck. It’s my dreams… she wanted to say, but it feels foolish so she doesn’t.

She feels your thumb gliding across her cheekbone, your eyes searching her own for an answer she denied herself to say and she’s thankful that you didn’t feel the need to push and just let it be knowing that eventually she will open up to you.

So she leans closer, brushing her lips on your lips, silently thanking you. You knew what it meant based on the smile you have once she pulls from you. “Okay.”

“You should go and sleep.” she says, her gaze never leaving yours.

You raised a brow, “And leave you here? No. I’m not going back without you.” Larissa rolls her eyes and buries her face on your chest, grinning towards your attitude. “Fine, let’s go.” she gives up.

The bed dips with her weight, and you watch her lay on her back on her side of the bed, “I know you’re the biggest cuddler so you don’t have to pretend that you don’t want to sleep on top of me.” that made her pause, “Come here, love. I want to hold you.” hoping it can ease her to fall asleep quickly.

She can feel her heart expand from the way affection fills your voice to the fond way you look at her. There’s nothing but warmth in her chest right now as the butterflies go wild in her tummy, her head empty of her previous thoughts. Even after all these years you still have the same effect on her.

Half an hour later, Larissa’s still unable to fall asleep, shifting frequently and grunting. You can feel her growing exhausted. It’s rendering you both exhausted. “I’m sorry.” she mumbles in the dark, her breath caressing your neck, “It’s okay.” you assured her.

“Maybe there’s something else that I can do…a solution”

Larissa quirks a brow though you can’t see her, “What is it?”

“Do you trust me?” Larissa nods, “Lay on your back please.”

Now on her back, you switched your positions. You climb on top of her, straddling her, a smile swiftly curling on her lips. She knows.

She instinctively bit her lower lip, hand caressing your bare thigh and confidently caressing higher until they’re right under your top. “So this is your solution?” she teased, pinching your nipples.

“Yes. Now, I want you to relax, okay? This is about you.” the shapeshifter finds her arms pinned above her head, as your breath tickles her neck. “Relax, baby.” you grin to yourself noticing her nipples are hard underneath her shirt but you decide that they can wait just a little bit longer.

Your mouth crashes against her and she welcomes you with an intensity that makes you shiver, her tongue darting out to play with yours, and even that remains soft, “I love you” she breathes against you. You abandon her lips to trail kisses down her jawline, she throws her head backward, exposing her neck. You know what she’s asking for. You smile while you place one final kiss on her jaw and repeat the process down her neck, sucking a bright bruise on her pulse point before soothing it down with your tongue. “Fuck me.” she whined, her voice faltering as she spread her legs even wider, “Feel me.” she begs.

You know it never fails to make her cunt sopping wet, her juices leaking. She feels you underneath her shorts, a smirk appearing when you realize she lacks a certain piece of fabric. She blushes hard. You tauntingly gather her wetness with your finger, spreading what’s collected around her clit. Her arousal grows thicker. “Please.” she whines, her brows furrowing and she’s staring at you with those big, beautiful eyes, asking you to plunge your fingers in her sex and just fuck her.

“No need to beg, my love.” you husked, leaving a soft kiss on her navel as you slowly crawl down her body, situating yourself in between her legs. You won’t lie that hearing her beg you makes you even wetter, there’s just something about her desperate pleas that makes your mouth go dry and your whole body burns.

“Is this okay? You good up there?” Larissa melts once more, never getting used to every time you take a moment to check up on her, “I’m fine.”

The sweet adoring look in her eyes switched to something dark once you run the tip of your tongue from her inner thigh to her dripping cunt, spreading the pink lips apart with your thumbs to reveal more wet area and plunging in your tongue. Her moans are fueling you, challenging you to go deeper and fuck her until she’s shaking, her cum trickling down.

As you alternate between licking her hole and flicking with her clit, your hands start to wander above her hips, to her waist until you’re cupping her perfectly shaped breasts. She moans even louder, filthier, more of her juice coats your tongue. She tastes divine.

The first thrust of your fingers into her, Larissa growls at the satisfaction of being filled, of feeling you curling inside her pussy. “God, you’re so tight, baby.” and she mewls, shutting her eyes and bucking her hips to feel more.

As you begin to fuck her, your freehand released its hold from her breast and grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers together, your tongue wantonly licking her clit drawing more sounds from your dear girlfriend. “Ugh–yes, yes, yes–fuck, fuck me!” something about her being so vocal while getting fingered so dirty will never cease to make you smile. “I’m close, hun. Fuck me.”

You fuck her through and after her orgasm hit and her legs shake, fucks her some more with a strap, your mouth latched around one nipple while your freehand never left the other holding it for support. Larissa keeps taking it all until she’s very much spent and pushing you off. The pace falters, you stop and pull the toy from her sore cunt. She’s breathing heavily.

“Are you okay, mi amore?” Even after all the filthy things you told her while you fuck her like a whore, Larissa finds how your tone quickly shifts to being concerned and soft in no time to be fascinating. “I’m okay, just sore and tired. I think…I think I’m–”

“Shhh, know, I understand. I’ll go get cleaned up and I’ll bring you some towels to clean you. I will be back, don't move.” she sleepily hums indicating it was a job well done. You kissed her cheek before you left.

After less than ten minutes you’re back by her side with a damp towel to clean the sticky cum and a dry one to wipe away the sweat. She mumbles something incoherent while you try to push her short up her legs, “Go to sleep, my love.”

Once done, you laid yourself in bed and scooted closer to her, draping one arm across her waist to pull her. “Good night.” you whisper, dropping one soft kiss on her shoulder. She’s already knocked down but you feel her turn until she’s facing you, her head nestled on your shoulder. "Sweet dreams."

The next day, Larissa curses herself, her eyes widening as the clock on her side reads 12:15 pm. It’s the first time she’s slept through her 5:45 am, 6:00 am and 6:15 am alarm…

She turns to you, “This is your fault” she says, throwing a pillow on your face hoping to wipe away your grin and you only shrug, unable to mask the smile on your lips seeing the headmistress in distress as she moves around the bedroom.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems imagine #principal larissa weems #larissa weems smut #soft smut #gwendoline christie imagines

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goldenseresinretriever · 3 months

Text

Snitches Get Stitches: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, car accident, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Two weeks out from the end of your fellowship should have felt better. Fifteen years of work and you were so close to the finish line that you could taste it. You’d worked your ass off, topped your classes over and over, sacrificing every bit of your social life, sleep, and general welfare to guarantee that you’d have your choice of job once you came out the other end, and you had. That was at least until three months ago when everything came crashing down. A misunderstanding, a miscalculation, something that felt so far beyond your control and the past fifteen years had been swept out from under your feet. Now you refreshed your email in desperation instead of excitement. You were sitting on a dragon’s hoard of student loans and not a single job offer. The downside of being at one of the top fellowship programs in the country was ironically the same as the upside, they were extremely well-connected. As a result, you were basically blacklisted by every potential employer.

Anyone else would question how you did it, getting out of bed like nothing was wrong and going to your fellowship with a professional smile plastered on your face as if everything was right with the world and you’d be on your way to the first day of your dream job in just two short weeks. It turns out that delusion is highly motivating. You’d refresh your email every morning as if an offer was going to suddenly appear, then go about your day as if maybe this evening something would show. At least that’s how most days went. Today everything that could have gone wrong, had. Your alarm hadn’t gone off because your phone was dead, your charging cord seemingly having given up its last breath sometime over the last twenty-four hours. Then the hot water had been out, for the third time this month, so you were shivering like a drowned sewer rat as you hauled yourself into your car, running too late to make your tea.

Even the Anaheim sun couldn’t seem to warm you as you pulled onto the highway toward Los Angeles. Not even five minutes later a piercing chime sounded through the vehicle and your dismayed gaze fell on your gas light, shining bright since last night, when you had been far too exhausted to brave a seedy gas station in the dark, relegating it as a “tomorrow problem.” Tomorrow was here and you swore defeatedly as you made your way to the next exit, issuing irritated commands at your phone to find the nearest gas station. You swore your whole attention was on the road as you did your best to follow the monotone directions from your speakers as you pulled into the gas station when the motorcycle flashed across your field of vision, fast but not fast enough. You screamed as your brain caught up to the sight in front of you. You don’t remember putting the car into park in the middle of the entry to the gas station and vaulting out of the vehicle, burying your panic as you go into doctor mode, rushing to the aid of the driver sitting up on the asphalt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, sir are you alright? I’m a doctor.” You sputtered as he turned to look at you, a rueful smile on his face.

“Oh, no worries, Doc, I’m all good.” He scratched the back of his neck as he looked over to his motorcycle which lay abandoned a few feet away. “I need to remember I’m not twenty-five anymore.”

“Sir I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that I check to see if you have a concussion.” You glanced around, searching for something. “Especially since you weren’t wearing a helmet.” You couldn’t help the annoyed purse of your lips. He chuckled, nodding as you squat down next to him, fiddling with your phone to turn on the flashlight.

“So, you’re a doctor, huh kid? What kind, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Sports medicine, and I mean yes I’m a doctor, I’ve graduated from medical school, but I’m still finishing up my fellowship so I’m not employed as one yet per se.” You sat back on your heels, satisfied that he really was alright. His eyes brightened at your words.

“Sports medicine? What sport are you working with?”

“I’ve worked with a bunch of different ones through my fellowship but my dream job is hockey.” If you ever got a job that was.

His face split into a huge grin. “You don’t say? When do you finish your fellowship?”

“Two weeks… why?” You suddenly remembered that this man was a total stranger as his questions became more specific. It was at that moment that your brain finally exited doctor mode that you realized that he was in fact not a total stranger, not really and you recognized exactly who was sitting on the concrete not even five feet from you. “Oh my fucking god, you’re Pete Mitchell.” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush before you could stop them. He barked out a laugh as he extended a dusty hand to you.

“The one and only.” You stared at his hand like you were wondering if it was safe to touch, which is ridiculous. You worked with star athletes for a living and you’ve never gotten star-struck. But that was within the four walls of your job, where you were completely and totally in doctor mode, not squatting in the driveway of a gas station. You shook your head, unsure of how long you’d left him hanging before taking his outstretched hand and shaking it, introducing yourself. “It feels ridiculous to ask, but are you an Anaheim fan?” He asked, flashing his signature grin. You flush, embarrassed.

“They’re my second favorite but my dad’s a ride-or-die.” Pete laughed at your brutal honesty. “But, I mean, everyone who’s everyone knows you.” You sputtered. “You have one of the longest records in the NHL. 26 years is a long time, and with three cups on top of that? You’re practically hockey royalty.” He smiled, seemingly amused with your floundering.

He stood then, helping you up with him. “Could I get your information?”

“Oh yeah, of course. I’m so sorry about your bike, is it good to drive?” You gave the abandoned motorcycle a worried look. “I’m sure my insurance can cover whatever repairs you need.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” He shook his head gently, laying a fatherly hand on your arm. “I actually wanted to offer you a job. Well, an interview, I’m not actually authorized to offer you a job, not my department.”

“I mean I did hit you with my car, WAIT WHAT?” The full effect of his words hit you like a truck. He laughed again.

“Sweetheart, I promise you I can take care of the damages,” giving you his best I’m a multimillionaire retired athlete look. “And as for the job? I’m serious. You’re clearly responsible, professional, good in a crisis, and the team I’m working with is looking for a physician. Unless of course you’re already committed to another job?”

“No! Uh, no, no I’m not.” Shame crept up your neck. “I really appreciate this, Mr. Mitchell.” You stammered as you fumbled for your wallet and produced a business card that you offered to him, doing your best to hold back the tears of gratefulness threatening to fill your eyes.

“It’s not a problem at all, Doc. I’ll be in touch, and please, call me Mav.” He handed you a piece of paper in return and you stared down to see his signature scrawled across it with a brief note Congratulations on such a talented daughter. - Pete “Maverick” Mitchell “Tell your dad I said hi.” He said with a wink before turning away from you to his motorcycle. You stood there, frozen in shock as he got the bike upright and drove away with a wave. The moment he was out of view, the tears escaped your eyes. You’d been desperate for someone to take a chance on you, but never in your wildest dreams would you have expected that person would be Pete fucking Mitchell.

#san diego dogfighters au #San Diego dogfighters #San Diego dogfighters hockey au #snitches get stitches // goldenseresinretriever #sgs // goldenseresinretriever #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n

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therobotmonster · 3 months

Text

So... Shapeways is going bankrupt.

This is particularly irksome for me, as that's a good 1/3rd of my monthly income, so I'm crossing my fingers while I start setting up a new store on cults. I have literally thousands of items so getting them all up is going to take ages.

But why did this happen?

Well I'll fucking tell you what I think happened.

It was a company run on arrogance and cowardice.

Shapeways made its mark as the cafepress of 3d printing. The weight of this was their marketplace that let people sell prints directly to customers without having to do the printing themselves. At its peak, I made more from Shapeways than from my day job.

The problem was that Shapeways put zero effort into the marketplace. They'd send some of us to a con to promote the idea of 3d printing game minis a couple of times, sure, but when it came to actual site maintenance and design every suggestion and request by sellers was roundly ignored. We asked for better search and categorization options. We asked to be able to name variants in our stores. We asked for better communication from the print techs. We asked for accurate subcategories that actually reflected how customers looked for items. None of it was done.

As such, the site was baffling to customers and difficult to understand. This was made worse by Shapeways' continual renaming of their materials. So after a couple of years Shapeways announces that they're not going to do anything for the marketplace because it's underperforming, and are going to focus on B2B, and in doing so they buried the marketplace in a tiny little link on the front page.

Overnight sales plummeted. We complained again, nothing was done. We asked for a different URL that went straight to the marketplace (something that would literally cost them $80 to do) that we could direct customers to, we were ignored.

The marketplace is underperforming, so we won't put in the effort needed to make the marketplace perform. Makes perfect sense.

Prices go up. Shipping goes up substantially, and then it was a thousand little cuts. The auto-checks were altered to make it impossible to verify anything manually with any accuracy, so it became harder to design for the limitations of their printers.

The site slowed down substantially so every click had a several second pause, making shopping and maintaining frustrating and unpleasant. Shipping costs to many areas of the world became insanely high, effectively cutting off entire markets.

Want to not be Shapeways? Then remember this:

Your users know more about your site experience and their own needs than you do.

If you have a sales site, and the people selling through it say "this isn't working, we need this" then maybe you should listen to them and not just say 'you're wrong' to their faces.

Oh, and also, if goddamn Rolls-Royce comes in filing false DMCA claims over the use of the word "Phantom" in any context on your site, you don't take every item through a multiple day review for every edit and say "LOL, we can't do anything"

You take them to court for abusing the system on behalf of your user base, you fucking bootlicking cowards.

OH, AND I ALMOST FORGOT!

I HAD TO FIND OUT ABOUT THIS FROM A DM ON TWITTER.

They've sent me a check every month for half a decade and they don't even send a "We're closing shop" email.

Look upon my prints, ye mighty, and despair.

If you want to help me though the meantime, here's my paypal.me and my gofundme.

#shapeways #late stage capitalism #3d printing #failure #corporate incompetence #corporate greed

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reitski · 2 years

Text

❝𝐛𝐥𝐥𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐬! 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧❞ ‎♡‧₊˚

⁀➷ 𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑺 … 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂, 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒖𝒉𝒂𝒚𝒂, 𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒖, 𝒓𝒆𝒐 (𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔)

➢ absolutely annoying.

➢ noisy af.

➢ stubborn when they decide to get your attention, don't care if you're working.

➢ hug you from behind, put their hand on your shoulder, blow your ear and neck.

➢ stares into your soul (kinda creepy).

➢ '' oh baby you love me so much, right? what do you like most about me? no! you should have said 'everything' '' and they pout.

➢ clearly says pay attention to me.

➢ ' stop acting like a baby...', you say but it won't stop them. they are like a big baby and you better pay attention to your bf.

➢ pulls your shirt, '' babe, let's play! ''

➢ annoying but cute. you give up and kiss him in the end.

⁀➷ 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑺 … 𝒓𝒊𝒏, 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒊, 𝒌𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒂, 𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒐

➢ they don't admit that they're dying to get your attention.

➢ tries giving hints that you will never understand.

➢ tries to get your attention without talking.

➢ keeps staring at you while you're busy watching tv.

➢ '' huh, is something wrong? '', you try your best to understand him, but he shrugs and goes to the kitchen.

➢ makes popcorn for you to get your attention.

➢ puts popcorn bowl on your lap and sits next to you.

➢ you kiss him on the cheek to say thank you. then rest your head on his shoulder.

➢ smart boy, his tactics always works.

⁀➷ 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑺 … 𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒊, 𝒉𝒊𝒐𝒓𝒊, 𝒈𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒖

➢ very calm.

➢ super clingy. literally sticks to you.

➢ lazy but they'll do anything if they're determined to get your attention.

➢ he hugs you from behind while you cook and bury his face in crook of your neck.

➢ '' come bed with me already ''

➢ sighs when you tell him to wait.

➢ they are too impatient.

➢ continues to sigh and mutter loudly until he gets what he wants.

➢ shy and awkward at the beginning of your relationship but gets more energetic as time goes on. also shows his weird side slowly, can use this side to get your attention.

⁀➷ 𝑩𝑰𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑹/𝑻𝑼𝑿𝑬𝑫𝑶 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑺 … 𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒊, 𝒓𝒆𝒐, 𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝒚𝒖𝒌𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒚𝒂, 𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒌𝒖𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖

➢ they are so gentle.

➢ ''can you hug me, please? ''

➢ doesn't get embarrassed for being needy but also doesn't want to bother you.

➢ when you tell them you're busy with work, they put scented candles on your desk.

➢ wants to help you relax.

➢ massages your temples and shoulders.

➢ offers to help you with your work.

➢ when you're done, you throw yourself into his arms. he smiles and pulls you to his chest for warming you.

⁀➷ 𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑶𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑺 … 𝒔𝒂𝒆, 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖, 𝒂𝒊𝒌𝒖 (𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅), 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒖

➢ don't ever dare to ignore them.

➢ aggressive, stubborn and independent.

➢ no matter how busy you are, give this man his attention.

➢ while you are working, he suddenly comes and closes your laptop. (just like those genshin cosplays)

➢ '' come on, give me the attention i deserve. ''

➢ he will definitely pick you up on his shoulder and take you to your room.

➢ he gets what he wants.

➢ forget your job and emails.

➢ you both cuddle until he's satisfied. (he won't let you go all day)

˗ˏˋ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

𝒂/𝒏 : hii, it's my original idea so please don't use it <3 thanks. also, happy valentine's days dear bllk fandom!!

#bllk scenarios #bllk x reader #bllk headcanons #blue lock scenarios #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk x you #blue lock x you #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff

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nats-firefly · 1 year

Note

30 with wandanat pls!!!

Ooooooooooooooooo

30. “To you, I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it.”

Warnings: exhaustion, hurt/comfort, fluff

send me a Taylor lyric prompt

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be tired and exhausted after a long day filled with classes and extracurriculars. Especially on your last year of university, things were starting to stress you out very quickly.

In this particular day however, you hadn’t gotten even a second to yourself. You had three long classes stuffed with meetings in between. You had to eat lunch while leading a meeting for the club you were president of. Not to mention the mountain of schoolwork that still awaited you when you got home. It was all too much.

You managed to send a couple of texts to your girlfriends who didn’t hesitate to tell you to come over to the compound, worried if they left you by yourself, you wouldn’t take the time to tend to your basic needs. Natasha said she would pick you up but a last minute meeting whisked both redheads away from you.

When you exited the elevator to their apartment floor, it was empty, the two still stuck at the meeting. Natasha sent Wanda a look across the table once she received a notification from Jarvis that you had arrived.

After the two made an excuse to slip out of the ridiculously long meeting that could’ve been an email, they hurried to get to you.

They found you curled up on the couch, silent tears sliding down your cheeks as everything inside you yelled at you to get work done but your body just simply couldn’t move. You were exhausted.

“Baby,” Wanda said, sitting next to you on the couch and using her power to easily slide you over so you could lay your head on her lap. Her fingers slid through your hair as Natasha’s hand rubbed up and down your back. “We’re here, my love.”

You felt your body slowly start relaxing under their touch, their presence immediately engulfing you in warmth. It made you cry harder. Wanda sent Natasha a worried glance, the older woman gave her a reassuring looking, taking your hand in hers.

“I can’t do it.” You buried your head against Wanda’s thigh, tears staining the fabric of her sweats. “I can’t do it all.”

Natasha tucked your hair behind your ear before swiping her thumb under your eyes, encouraging you to continue.

“All day, I didn’t get a single second to myself, without someone telling me to do something, or yelling at me about something that’s out of my control, I can’t take it anymore,” You hiccuped. “I’m just too soft for all of it.”

“Sweetheart,” Natasha’s soft voice reached your ears, bringing your attention down to her as you attempted to control your breathing. “You had an excruciatingly busy day, you are doing your very best, and you are doing an incredible job at it. Can you take a little bit of time to be here with us? Then we can help you figure out the rest.”

You nodded, looking up at Wanda whose eyes gave you a sense of serenity. “How about I make us dinner?”

“Can you make that one that I like?” You asked, Wanda was an incredible cook, and Sokovian food was quickly becoming one of your favorites.

“I know the one,” Wanda giggled. You sat up so Wanda could get up to go to the kitchen, before you were quickly pulled into Natasha’s embrace. Your head fit perfectly in the crook of her neck.

“I’m proud of you,” Natasha said, giving you a kiss on top of your head. You looked up at her, fresh tears flooding your vision. She leaned down, her soft lips connecting with yours. “It’s okay to be a little soft sometimes, but don’t forget how strong you are. You’ll dust yourself off, and hold your head up high. You know you’ve always got me and Wands right here with you.”

She gave you another quick kiss as you left your remaining tears roll down your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

#sighs really loudly #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat fluff #bonk.wandanat #bonk.fluff #bonk.blurb

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saltofmercury · 1 year

Note

If you're still open to requests, König surprising reader for her/their birthday belatedly because he was on a mission? Maybe he felt sad he couldn't be with the reader on the actuao date so he tries to make it up by sneaking around the day after he comes back!

Breathing in his body wash, two huge arms cradled and roamed your body. Wet lips had devoured yours, as small moans escaped him.

Adjusting himself on the couch, pulling the cozy blanket above your waist, he continued to kiss every inch of your face and neck, as his hands tried to remember the curves of your body.

Making out on the couch before he left was one of the easier goodbyes. He had been killing himself mentally due to the fact that this particular mission could not wait…. And this mission landed on your birthday.

The problem with König in relationships was that he often offered too little towards his partners. He was barely there, he wasn’t present when he was there.

An arrangement had been made before you two had established your relationship— at least it did in his head. He would make you a priority, take this relationship and work on it...meaning he wouldn’t miss any special events.

Until he met you, he pushed aside his issues with commitment and decided to fully commit.

He had been very fortunate to only miss one Christmas, but had been so disappointed in himself the entire trip home because you had opened your gift —that was not wrapped —but still in the shipping box it came in.

Now he was missing your birthday. Of all holidays, he wished it were another Christmas or would even take New Year’s Eve, but not the day you were born.

He pulls away from the kiss for a second, to realize your shirt has been pulled up, as his sweatpants pulled down.

“… I want to take my time.” He says calmly, taking a mental picture of how crazed you look. It’s the look he loves, just before you give into him, submissively letting him have his way with you.

He pauses, feeling so guilty. You would be alone on your birthday.

He looks down, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Hey I never got to say I’m sorry in advance, for missing your —“

“Oh my god, please don’t apologize.” You interrupt him before he could finish.

You’ve been preparing for when something like this would happen. You could see how guilty he felt when he had received a call and how quiet he got the next two days.

You figured he would be leaving again— he got the same way around Christmas over two years ago.

“Don’t worry about it honestly. I’ve got some things planned, we can always celebrate after.”

He buries himself into your neck, mumbling apologies—

“It’s just not fair”

“I’m going to make it up I promise”

“This is the last thing I wanted”

He can feel himself getting red, embarrassed that of all the jobs he could have, he was good at his. Why couldn’t he be an accountant? Or a software developer?

Why was he good at this?

“Come on…” you egg him on, scratching his back with your nails.

“I need you before you go..” you whisper softly into his ear.

Within seconds, the hardness in his pants has nudged you, bringing the darkness back into his eyes.

In the middle of interrogating some man, all he could think about was slitting his throat, dumping the body for the other team, and calling his mission successful. The man needed to be brought in dead or alive anyway.

He was frustrated, ready to beat the shit out of him, then realizing that he had already completed this mission anyway.

He had scheduled a birthday email two days ago to be sent to you. He had also made other arrangements to be sent to you.

Catch the man, write the report, and head home.

However the son of a bitch was making things difficult. It took everything in him to not beat the crap out of him, stalling what could be days closer to being with you.

Tapping out mentally, he had called Horangi over.

On the other side of the world, you had slept in. You woke up to a delivery of 3 dozen roses. He was clearly feeling so bad.

You made your morning coffee, indulged in a strawberry tart, read König’s email, and went to a free yoga class.

You came home, showered, went to your massage you booked, did some shopping, then called one of your best friends to have dinner with you.

Everything seemed fine.

Until you got home, you felt the loneliness creeping in. You had managed to distract yourself but it wasn’t the same.

He wasn’t there to wake you up with balloons he had blown up all over the room. Have him sprint from the room to the kitchen with the tart and a candle on it.

He wasn’t there to eagerly take your pajamas off and ask to taste you.

He wasn’t there to hide the piece of jewelry behind his back and then surprise you with it.

You missed his presence, the way he dressed up before taking you to a fancy restaurant and having you try new things.

It was sad. It felt awful.

But you knew this would happen one day. There was no time for a pity party. You tucked your emotions back in, showered, and got ready for bed.

You ended on a good note. He would be home soon anyway.

König rushed to the base to pack his things. He caught the easiest flight back, then began to plan out what he could do to make it up to you.

It had been 3 days, but the guilt had really been eating him alive. He pulled out his phone and saw that his flowers had been delivered.

Would dinner be nice? Would taking you on a trip be nice? His mind jumped from different ideas.

The day he arrived, he had arrived around 1am. You heard the gravel crunch outside. Heavy footsteps had pounded down the hallway towards the room.

You had woken up, filled with anxiety. By the time you sat up in bed, he had walked through the door.

“… hi” he whispered against your skin. He had climbed into bed with his uniform. He began to nestle himself into your neck, kissing your collarbone.

You inhaled him, he smelled of gasoline and tobacco.

“Come…” he pulled you out of bed.

You stared up at him, he grabbed your robe and you guided it onto your body.

He pulled you back towards his car. He had left it running outside.

He had already grabbed one of your blankets off the couch, settled you into the car, then pulled the blanket over you.

“Where are we —“ you began, but was cut off with him holding a finger to lips.

“What are you—“ he proceeded to do it again.

By the time you had reached the destination, the sun had peeked a little, he had given the keys to a valet.

He escorted you up the hotel, to a room at the top of the building.

“Ok weirdo, are you going to say anything?”

Turning towards you, he smiled softly. The ink around his eyes had creased, black ink in his waterline.

"I didn't like missing out, so I wanted to make we can celebrate together." He scans the key, opening the door.

The room is covered with decorations, a small breakfast tray set up near the window, showing the sun rise.

There's emotions settling inside of you, you feel like you could tear up.

He holds you, apologizing.

"I didn't mean to make you cry."

You had wiped your tears, laughing.

"I'm just happy you're home."

He cradled your face with his hand, pulling you into a deep kiss.

"I'm happy to be back with you."

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

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little-diable · 2 years

Text

The Professor - Prof!Aaron Hotchner (smut)

We all know I adore professor fics, hence why it was finally time for a Hotch one. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader works as Hotch's TA, helping him with his course work while falling more and more for the professor.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), p in v, mild choking, age gap, professorxTA, some flluff

Pairing: Prof!Aaron Hotchner x fem!TA!reader (3.7k words)

“This one?” His dark eyes flickered up from the paper he was reading, taking in the book (y/n) held in her hands. A hum rumbled through the man, nodding his head before his gaze wandered back down to the paper. “Alright, I’ll get the copies ready. Coffee?”

“Please.” Professor Hotchner’s voice dripped with desperation, coaxing a few chuckles out of (y/n). Once again their eyes met, making it harder for her to rip herself free from the grasp the man had on her. With her heart racing and her hands trembling, she almost stumbled out of his office, needing to get some distance between them before she’d say or do something she’d regret later on.

(Y/n) had been working for the man for the past weeks, getting adjusted to his schedule, trying to help him balance between the university and his tasks at the BAU. Professor Hotchner had joined the university to teach a few profiling classes, and ever since (y/n) had been recommended by another professor as a teaching assistant, the relationship between them had evolved into something that almost felt like a friendship.

There was no doubt that (y/n) admired the handsome man, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, as if he was a siren’s call she had chosen to follow, accepting her fatal end in the depth of the ocean. But she’d always sink for him, one with the endless darkness she found herself trapped in, a darkness only Aaron Hotchner could alight.

At first it had felt like a schoolgirl crush, fascinated by his demeanour, the way he carried himself. Aaron Hotchner was undoubtedly handsome, the dark eyes that told stories not made for faint-hearted students, the big hands that have killed more people than one would assume, the low voice (y/n) heard late at night when she was dreaming of him.

It had taken her a while to accept her crush on the man she was working for, but somewhere along the way she had found herself growing rather excited to see him almost every single day of the week. She found pride in the way he praised her work, how his eyes lingered on her frame for a tad bit too long.

“(Y/n)?” His gruff voice forced her closer, making her way back into his office with two cups of hot coffee. “Come here, can you read this?”

She moved slowly, eyes taking in the frown tugging on his features, the slightly confused glance of his. The professor watched her move towards him, coming to a halt next to his frame to read the scribbling of the student. Heat flushed through her as she felt his eyes on her features, she was standing close enough to smell his cologne – mixed with the scent of coffee, a deadly mixture she found herself addicted to.

“Mhm, no I can’t. Do you want me to email him?” Their eyes met, she was a bit taller than him, standing next to his sitting frame, and yet she still felt intimidated by the man, by the power he held over her. He had to clear his throat before he spoke up, eyes flickering back down to the paper as if he had to remind himself of his task at hand.

“No, it’s alright. But thank you, (y/n).” Shudders ran down her spine, still not used to the way he spoke her name, quiet like a confession, though strong enough to remind one of a poem written for those not leaving one's mind even in the depth of the night. With a small nod and a smile sent his way, she chased the distance once again, going back to her copies with a racing heart and her teeth buried in her lower lip.

***

“No case is the same, of course we find patterns, it’s our job to make these out and to highlight them, but don’t make the mistake of giving into old patterns, just because it’s comfortable. We-” The ringing noise interrupted the professor, gaze wandering down to his phone. With a short “Go through the questions” shot (y/n)’s way he excused himself, disappearing from the room.

“Alright, we’ll go through the weekly reading now, any questions we should focus on?” Adrenaline shot through her system, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. It wasn’t the first time professor Hotchner had asked her to take over, and yet she still wasn’t used to standing in front of so many students.

It didn’t take long for the professor to reappear, murmuring a small “Sorry” (y/n)’s way before he took over once again. She loved watching him teach, and found herself admiring the man even more whenever he spoke to curious students, pulling them further into the course work they were revising, leaving them begging for more.

Aaron Hotchner carried himself with something dark lingering inside of him, something dark (y/n) wanted to uncover, pushing through the layers one by one. Deep down she was yearning for something she shouldn’t even think of, breaking one too many rules with the longing she felt for her boss, a man far older than she was.

“We have to cut this one short today, I’m sorry. Please prepare next week’s reading and email (y/n) if you have any questions.” (Y/n) started packing the professor’s documents and notes, following him out of the classroom with hurried steps. He kept typing away on his phone, barely sparing attention to the students they walked past, too focused on whatever was keeping him busy.

“I know we were supposed to put together next week's lecture, but I got called in for a meeting at the BAU. But if you have enough time I can take you with me and we’ll get to work once the meeting is over.” (Y/n) couldn’t help but excitedly chuckle, giving in way too quickly. She had wanted to visit the BAU ever since meeting the professor, wondering where he was spending his time when he wasn’t around her.

(Y/n) allowed herself to take in his frame as he drove them through the dark city, too concentrated to notice her wandering gaze. With every passing week she grew bolder, no longer caring about the curious glance he’d shoot her when he noticed her staring, no longer caring about the smirk tugging on his lips whenever he returned the curious gazes.

“It shouldn’t take long, you can wait in my office.” (Y/n) followed the man through the office building, into the elevator and finally towards his work space. She found a few faces she recognised from the pictures professor Hotchner had hung up in his office, finally able to connect the stories he’d share to the ones that had experienced them with him. “(Y/n), this is Emily Prentiss, please feel free to find her if you need anything. My office is right up there.”

He shot her one last smile before he disappeared down the hallway, leaving (y/n) alone with the ones that took in her frame with curious glances. A nervous “Hello” rumbled through her, looking towards Emily for help, hoping that the woman would help her navigate around the unfamiliar surroundings.

One by one the team members introduced themselves to (y/n), making her feel more at ease with every passing second. Slowly she grew more relaxed around the new faces, sharing a few details about herself, her work as professor Hotchner’s TA – smiling at their chuckles as she called him professor – and answering a few questions about his lectures.

“I should probably start on my tasks, but it was nice to finally meet you all.” (Y/n) slowly pulled away from the team, moving towards the professor’s office with a smile etched onto her lips. It had been a long day so far, tiredness lingered inside her system, but the team had managed to distract her at least for a few minutes, feeling at ease even though she’d have to push through some more course work.

Time kept passing by as (y/n) went through her tasks, yawning whenever another wave of tiredness flushed through her, hoping that the professor would find his way back to her soon. His office awfully reminded her of his office at the university, and yet it had somewhat of a homey feel to it, a more personal touch she loved to see.

(Y/n) could only imagine how the professor’s life looked like outside of his work, the things he’d do on free weekends, who he’d meet up with and where he’d go. She longed to experience him like that – carefree, without the frown etched onto his features.

***

“(Y/n)?” A soft voice called her name, forcing her to wake with a small gasp. Her eyes shot open, finding a pair of dark ones studying her frame. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, the unfamiliar surroundings and the all too comfortable couch she had been sleeping on.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry.” An amused chuckle rumbled through the professor as he let go of her shoulder, only to sit down next to her. No longer was he wearing his suit jacket nor his tie, he had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up, exposing parts of his muscular forearms.

“Don’t apologise, I’m sorry for leaving you alone for so long, it took longer than expected.” An exhausted huff left the man who was still looking at her, making her awfully aware of his closeness. Her limbs were tingling, forcing her to give into the pull she felt, straightening her posture, only to end up with her leg pressed against his. “It’s late, we can go through the lecture tomorrow if you want.”

“Are you sure? I know how busy your schedule is on Wednesday, professor.” A yawn rumbled through (y/n), followed by a sheepish chuckle rumbling through her. She was too tired to notice the amused gaze he was shooting her, big hand cupping her warm cheek before she could move away. Energy buzzed through (y/n)’s system, the unfamiliar touch was alighting a fire inside of her, fighting against the ever growing tiredness.

“Please, Aaron’s just fine and as much as I want to keep you around, you need your sleep.” He murmured the words, thumb stroking her skin. If she hadn’t been as tired, (y/n) probably would have frozen, unsure how to react to his words, but now she only leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering close once again. His thumb stroked along her lower lip, feeling the marks her teeth had left behind on the skin, and all (y/n) could do in her tired state was hope that he’d give in and close the small distance between them.

The world around her could end, burn to the ground like Troy had, infiltrated by enemy forces, and yet (y/n) wouldn’t dare to run, one with the growing heat that would melt her skin. Nothing would ever be strong enough to free her from the grasp the professor had on her body and soul, captured by every part of his scheme like the pirate Lykabas had taken over Akoites ship.

“Hotch.” Emily’s voice echoed through the night, forcing him to let go of (y/n), calling out a soft “Come in”. (Y/n) watched them with curious eyes, barely able to listen to the words they exchanged, mind still occupied with the thought of Aaron moving closer, about to kiss her.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Emily hurriedly left the office, forcing (y/n) to focus on the professor once again. “We have a new case. One of the agents will drive you home, I’ll call you once we’re back.” He squeezed her hand, forcing her to stand up with him, watching the man with tired eyes.

And with a small “Be careful” murmured his way, the two parted ways.

***

It took Aaron four days to make it back home, texting (y/n) small updates every now and then. Heat filled her whenever his messages found her, forcing a smile to widen on her lips.

“Come in, please.” The professor had called her on his way home, inviting (y/n) over to finally work on their to-do list together. It was the first time he had invited her over, somehow making her feel awfully nervous with her new surroundings. “Jack’s still with Jessica, but I was ordered to tell you that he misses you.”

“Please hug him tightly and tell him I miss him too.” (Y/n) had met Aaron’s son a couple of times, taking care of him whenever his father had been called in for sudden meetings or when Jessica didn’t have any time. An almost unfamiliar warmth filled her system at the thought of Jack missing her, hoping that she’d soon be able to spend time with him again.

“Will do, do you want anything to drink?” The sun was about to set, drenching the kitchen in a deep orange, alighting Aaron’s calm features. He had something awfully intriguing to him, a need to uncover the thoughts racing through his mind filled (y/n), a need she had to push away before it could consume every part of her body.

“Water’s fine, thank you.” She followed him around, taking the water with a grateful smile before he led her to his office. And even though (y/n) found herself distracted by his shelves filled with books she wanted to explore, the pictures hung up on the walls, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel excited about being around the professor once again.

Aaron started going through their list, asking questions here and there, clearly valuing her thoughts and opinions. But all (y/n)’s mind could think of was the way he had touched her back at the BAU, how he had caressed her skin, moving closer so that she could feel his warmth radiating off him.

“All there’s left to do is upload the scan, I will do that tomorrow morning.” (Y/n) murmured, scribbling down her notes as he closed his laptop. For a few moments they were engulfed by nothing but silence, a calming silence her heart clung to, appreciating the moments they spent together. Aaron was already looking at her when she lifted her gaze, taking in the small smile he wore on his thin lips. “But I don’t want to take up any more of your time, you must be exhausted.”

“You don’t need to leave just yet, you can stay for dinner, if you want.” His voice didn’t carry much strength – as if he was scared of her rejection, wondering if he was making her feel uncomfortable with his offer, and yet all she could do was smile, giving in once again.

The two made some smalltalk as Aaron got to cooking, telling her about his case, the things he picked up on and what they should highlight for their students. All while she was sitting on his kitchen island, not allowed to help even though she had offered to take over a handful of times. (Y/n) enjoyed seeing him this relaxed, like a new version of a character she was getting to know, desperate to uncover what the author had kept hidden from her till now. A certain kind of curiosity that could get her killed, if she wasn’t careful.

“Here, try this.” He moved closer with a spoon, resting between her thighs as he watched her taste the sauce. Their eyes didn’t break contact once, giving the gesture an awfully intimate touch to it. The professor didn’t move from (y/n), not as she praised his cooking, not as he placed the spoon down, gaze flickering back to her lips and up to her eyes.

With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) felt him move closer, slow enough to give her enough time to stop him should she want him to – not like she’d ever dare to. His warm hand found its way to her cheek, momentarily making her feel as if she was stuck in a deja-vu, eyes fluttering close to give into the soft kiss.

A kiss like this one was something she had always imagined experiencing, soft without any rush, though with enough pressure to reassure her that this wasn’t just a dream. This was very much real, allowing her to live through something she had been praying for to happen. Aaron didn’t let go of her, keeping her close as his free hand found her neck, trying to move her even closer towards him.

They parted with a deep sigh, desperate for air to fill their aching lungs, and yet cursing their bodies for interrupting this intimate moment. For a few moments all they did was look at one another, taking in their slightly swollen lips and wide eyes, before a chuckle rumbled through him, kissing her once again.

“Let’s get some food into your system before I tire you out.”

***

“Fuck, look at you, so greedy for me.” (Y/n) was kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the professor with wide eyes. She wasn’t wearing anything but her panties, lips parted for his cock, ready to swallow as much of him as she could take.

After trying to eat some of their food, she had found herself pressed against his chest, kissing him breathless as he carried her into his bedroom, not daring to let go of her. Even though he had asked her a few times if she truly wanted this, (y/n) still had a hard time processing that this was about to happen, that she finally got to touch the man she had been longing for.

A moan rumbled through Aaron as she swallowed around his cock, gagging the second he reached the back of her throat. Her glassy eyes didn’t dare leave his pleasure-drunken features, staring at him as if he was explaining the secrets of their world to her. He held a dark magic over her, a spell guiding her through the uneasy paths he was leading her on.

With his hand placed on the back of her head, he guided the bobbing motion of her head, forcing her to take more of him with every movement. Tears dripped from her eyes, a sight that left the tall man groaning, high on her. He was corrupting her, blemishing her body and soul, but neither the professor nor (y/n) dared to part from one another. They had tasted the forbidden fruit, finding comfort in the wrongs they were doing, in the laws they were breaking.

“Atta girl, doing so well for me.” Her trembling hands pumped the parts her mouth had a hard time reaching, tracing the pulsing veins, tasting his precum on her rough tongue. God, she never wanted this moment to end, wanting to pleasure him till she’d pass out from her lack of air. It felt like she had been made for him, for him only.

She felt him twitch in her mouth, about to release himself in her mouth, painting her warm cheeks white with his cum. (Y/n) kept bobbing her head, not daring to slow down as he teetered on the brink of the abyss, about to be consumed by his orgasm. But Aaron pulled away seconds before his release could rock through him, wanting to feel her tightness wrapped around him.

“Onto the bed, spread your legs for me.” The authoritative tone of his voice made her walls clench around nothing, desperate to be filled by him. (Y/n) wordlessly followed his command, resting on his comfortable mattress, allowing him to pull her panties down her legs, groaning at the sight of her cunt. She was dripping for him, body clearly calling out to the man, begging him to give in.

Aaron’s thumb found her clit, circling the bundle of nerves a few times before he reached for a condom, rolling it down on his cock. Their eyes searched one another as he aligned himself with her entrance, slowly pushing into her. They moaned in unison, needing to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation, already high on the feeling of one another. Both were addicted, and would forever be haunted by this very moment, not daring to leave their minds.

“Don’t stop, fuck, please.” (Y/n) barely spared her words a thought, not wasting her energy on the things she spoke, could only focus on the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every ferocious thrust. No longer was he taking his time, allowing her to get used to his size, no, by now Aaron was set on leaving marks on her body, marks left behind like presents for her to unwrap in the upcoming days.

Soft praises rumbled through him, slowly losing himself in the emotions thumping through his veins, guiding him closer to the high he had almost given into minutes ago. He kept circling her bundle of nerves with one hand, while the other found her throat, lightly squeezing. Her wide eyes stayed focused on his features, moaning for the professor and the possessive grasp he had on her.

Her walls fluttered around his cock, soon she’d give in, letting go for the man that had claimed her months ago. He made her feel things one could only dream of, marvelling at her as if she was some ancient goddess no other human being had ever laid eyes on.

(Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close as her orgasm rocked through her, choking on his name. Aaron kept fucking her through her high, not daring to let go before she slowly relaxed beneath him. He followed her down the edge a few moments later, releasing himself into the condom with a soft groan rumbling through his fleshcage.

“This was much better than in my dreams.” (Y/n) mumbled against his lips, chuckling as he pinched her side, trying to get used to feeling her this close. A breathless kiss was shared between them before Aaron slowly let go, staring down on her for a moment or two.

“Trust me, I dreamt about this numerous times, but nothing will feel as good as the real you.”

#Aaron Hotchner smut #professor Aaron Hotchner #Aaron Hotch imagine

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