#it gives me temporary peace

[l3irdl3rain]

I’m sure I’ve told you guys before about my coworker at my part time warehouse job that hates Duncan but I had to work with her again tonight and she was on her bullshit regarding him again.

I would like to clarify, this doesn’t upset me. I mean it does in the sense of “I can’t stand her and she’s a bitch” but also it’s fine. She can think what she wants to think. What matters is that I know Duncan is happy and I love him.

BUT ALL THAT TO SAY! It is so funny to me that she is a grown woman and this is who she has beef with. He’s just a little fella. Girl you are so dumb to be beefing with a cat.

Anyways he’s mad in this video because I stopped him from trying to eat Gertrude’s breakfast and gave him a bath.

[pepprs]

retreat day 4 done. it’s been a really good day i think

[kaleuh]

I THREW UP AT THE DENTIST LOL

[ann1-wr1tes]

Save a Horse, ride a Cowboy

Synopsis: You make the mistake of placing Leon's cowboy hat on your head and you have no idea what the "Cowboy rule" is...

Warnings: Smut, Adult themes, filth

Word Count: 2,692

A/N: Cowboy. Leon. Two of my most favorite things.

-----

Your eyes dart around the entire space around you as your ears are drowned out by cheers and screams for the person who was currently riding a bull. Your friends thought it would be fun to go see a rodeo and so far it had been fun.

You got to see tons of people getting hurled off bulls which was entertaining in itself but you also couldn't help but agree with your friends when they all started to gush over how "hot" some of the cowboys were. Everywhere you looked you saw bandannas, flannels, cowboy hats, and flared jeans. You felt a little bit underdressed wearing your usual jeans and t-shirt but it was still fun getting to see all the hot cowboys and Southern charm.

As your friends ranted about this one man they saw who was about to ride a bull, you found your eyes stuck on someone else. Your eyes were glued to this one cowboy who was busy trying to calm the bull down enough to get the rider on top.

You couldn't see fully from where you were sitting but you could see the man's pretty blonde locks sticking out from underneath his cowboy hot and his crystal blue eyes that narrowed in concentration as he coaxed the bull into temporary peace. You didn't want to admit that you were drooling over him but you knew your friends would tease you if they saw how much you were staring at this guy.

Soon the rider is situated on the bull and a gunshot rings through the air. The gate that leads to the field is kicked open and within a second the bull is running out and thrashing wildly with the rider on top. You can audibly hear all the "ooohs" and "ahhs" as the rider holds on. Your friends are all squealing and cheering themselves as the man almost gets thrown off.

Then with another flail, the rider is thrown off the bull and ends up painfully tumbling onto the ground. As soon as that happens there are people going onto the field to scrape up the rider from the floor as others go to subdue the bull.

You can't help but cheer and holler as well as a smile comes to your face. What a show.

---

After the rodeo was over you wanted to conclude the evening by venturing to a nearby bar. It seemed like a lot of the people from the rodeo came as well as you noticed that once again you were surrounded by Southern accents and cowboy hats.

Your little group made their way to the bar and started to hover around it as the bartender asked everyone what they were getting. As soon as the orders are taken you are about to pay but as soon as you are about to give some cash to the bartender you are interrupted by a thick southern drawl.

"Drinks are on me, darlin'."

Your head turns and you are met with the same face you were admiring earlier. The fluffy blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and oh…you could see him much better now and god did the man look heavenly in the candlelight that emitted from the bar.

You could now make out the stunning facial features of the man and you could feel your heart speed up tenfold when your eyes grazed over his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. The way the cowboy hat sat on his head made something buzz inside you.

You are broken out of your thoughts when you hear your friends snicker from behind you. The man even seems to notice your sudden shock as a subtle smirk comes to his face.

"You don't need to do that." you smile nervously as the man's eyes rake over you. You think you might have gotten lost in those eyes. "But thank you anyway."

"No need to thank me, sweetheart. Something as pretty as you should have all the men 'round here buyin' your drinks." He winked at you making your cheeks heat up. Your friends snickered again but you ignore them with a small roll of your eyes.

"The name is Leon by the way, Leon Kennedy." he introduces while holding out his hand. You take it and introduce yourself in return and you're immediately caught off guard when Leon goes to press a kiss against your knuckle.

You were so relieved when you finally got your drinks. You thought you were about to combust just by being around Leon. Leon on the other hand was relishing in your flustered looks and shy behavior, in fact, he thought you were the cutest thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

Though soon your shy, flustered behavior was pushed back by liquid courage. It was sped up by how quickly you were drinking your beers but soon you didn't even notice how you were practically leaning into Leon, muttering things about the rodeo and how hard it seems to ride bulls.

"I mean…I thought the guy was gonna be dead…how he got flung off that thing.." you murmured to yourself with a silly grin as you looked up at Leon.

"Well ridin' is all in the hips sugar~" Leon hummed while leaning back on his elbows. Your stomach fluttered at the suggestive tone and you took another sip of your beer to try and quell your nerves. In an attempt to change the subject, your eyes dart to his hat and a smirk starts to pull at your lips.

"Y'know you look great in that hat…" you compliment as you eye it. Leon chuckles and gives you a smile that has you wondering why it makes your heartbeat pick up.

"Is that so?" he asks. You nod but there's a glint of playfulness in your eyes as you look at the cowboy hat.

"I think it'd look better on me though~" your hands reach out and pluck the hat right off of Leon's head and you place it on yours. You adjust it and tilt it just right on your head like it was on Leon's and then you look at him with a wide grin.

"Well, how does it look?" You ask. Leon seems frozen for a moment as his mind starts to comprehend what you just did. You notice the sudden hesitance for a moment and you almost think that you did something wrong but a smirk soon returns to Leon's face and there's an amused look as he flicks the brim of the hat up.

"It suits you well sugar, but do you know what happens when you put on another cowboy hat?" he asks.

Suddenly you're hit with confusion and it reads all over your face as Leon chuckles. Even the bartender seems to laugh a little and he quickly turns around and starts to clean out glasses when you look at him.

"No…?"

"Well, we have a rule called the Cowboy Rule. If you wear the cowboys hat, then you have to ride the cowboy." Leon explains calmly before taking a swig of his drink. You blink in surprise and you can feel the blush start to creep onto your face. You look down at your drink to hide it.

"Oh," is all you manage to croak out. Your throat suddenly feels incredibly dry. You feel a hand hook under your chin you meet Leon's piercing gaze. His eyes are filled with amusement and it sends shivers down your spine.

"If I do then can I keep the hat?" you cheekily ask. The corners of Leon's mouth tug up and it causes your insides to flip. Your heart begins to beat quicker.

"Wanna find out?" Leon says as he leans forward until his lips are barely inches away from yours. It takes everything in you to not close the space between you two. Instead, you nod your head frantically hoping that he understands your silent request for more.

---

Hungry hands rake across your body as your own hands run down Leons. The feeling of his skin against yours makes every single nerve in your body burn as you slowly unbutton his shirt and he reaches for yours as well. Your bodies collide together like magnets practically, there's such a strange pull that seems to be between you two as your mouths clash together.

Leon's teeth nip at your lower lip and you moan softly as he slides his tongue past your lips and deepens the kiss. In return you rake your hands through his blonde strands, tugging lightly when Leon's hand trails along your sides, going down to rest on your hips.

The cowboy hat still sits on your head as you lean back, breaking the kiss to sit back on your haunches. The sight in front of you was heavenly. Leon was laid back, his legs slightly parted, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and exposing his chest, then of course there was the glassy, lustful look in his blue eyes as his swollen lips were slightly parted.

The entire image made your cunt flutter with need.

You take off the hat for a moment and place it back on Leon's as you yank your shirt up and off your body and then your hands work to unbutton the rest of his buttons on his shirt. As soon you are done, Leon slips his shirt off and yanks you back on top of him by your hips.

In that action, your hips accidentally roll against his causing you both to have a moment of pleasure from the friction.

"Fuck darlin'…need to feel more of you.." Leon huskily utters as his hands tighten around your hips a little more.

With a hum of agreement your rest your hands on his chest and go to straddle his lap a bit better so that your heated core is pressed right up against his erection that is straining through his jeans. Teasingly, you roll your hips again and you both let out a long moan.

"Shit…stop teasin' me," Leon mumbles, his voice rasping and rough as it sends shivers down your spine. You giggle breathlessly, pressing your hips harder against the bulge in his jeans, grinding a little more.

"Why would I stop? I wanna see how many pretty noises I can get out of you cowboy." you coo.

Leon growls in response as he roughly pulls you back towards him, slamming a searing kiss to your mouth. This time he moves his free hand down and it slips down your jeans, finding your clothed clit and he rubs small circles against it. Your hips buck in response and you let out loud moans against Leon's lips.

"That's it baby…let me hear you." He grunts.

It's practically music to your ears as you rock your hips against his fingers as he continues to rub your clit and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Leon suddenly pulls his fingers away and you whine. You're left with nothing but the ache between your legs.

In desperation, your hands fly down to Leon's belt buckle and you start to undo his belt as quickly as you could.

"Easy there honey, I'm not goin' anywhere." Leon chuckles. He replaces your hands with his and soon he's tugging his pants down along with his black boxers to reveal his hardened cock. Its springs to life and slaps against his stomach.

You groan at the sight of it. It's big and thick and you almost want to take him in your mouth until his hands are already working on your own jeans.

He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down your thighs. You kick them the rest of the way off and reposition yourself on top of Leon. Right as you are about to sink down onto Leon's length he interrupts you.

"I think you're forgettin' something.." Leon takes his cowboy hat off and puts it back on top of your head, tilting it just right.

"Beautiful." Leon breathes in a low tone.

"I think it looks better on you." You smile as Leon's hand grazes over your cheek and tucks a stray hair away from your face.

"That's nonsense, it looks stunnin' on you." He smirks and his thumb drags up and down your jawline, gently rubbing your cheek. The butterflies in your stomach flutter even more as he leans in closer to you, your noses brushing against one another.

You rub your slick folds back and forth on Leon's tip and slowly sink down onto his length, letting out moans at the stretch.

"L-Leon… it..so much" You pant between clenched teeth, gripping onto his broad shoulders.

"It's okay sweetheart, let me help.." he coos. The hands on your hips slowly start to help you roll into his, making sure to go slow and his grasp was decently gentle as he helps you build up a good pace.

"It's all in the hips sugar…." Leon whispers in your ear, sending tingles down your spine.

Soon on your own accord, you start to ride him faster. It catches Leon off guard as waves of hot, blinding pleasure course through his veins. He throws his head back with an audible moan as you bounce up and down on his cock.

"Good girl, keep rollin' your hips like that.." Leon praises, his voice rumbling low in his chest.

You nod and do as you are told, your body starting to twitch against Leon, your hands clenching onto his forearms tighter as he starts thrusting upwards, trying his best to push himself inside of you and meet your steady rhythm.

A whimper escapes your mouth as Leon sits up, connecting his lips to your neck. One of his hands trails up your back and plants itself on the nape of your neck as his lips suck and kiss your sensitive skin.

Your mind is spinning, your heart beats furiously. There are no words that can describe how amazing it all feels. Especially as the euphoria grows and the knot in your belly tightens. Leon, in his own desperation to chase his oncoming high, continues to buck his hips up into yours wildly from below.

His head has fallen back against the pillow as he feels your cunt tighten around him.

"Jesus…you feel so good darlin'." Leon groans in appreciation. You don't say anything, only moaning loudly and moving your hips with more vigor. The sounds from your mouth cause Leon to shudder as he watches you move against him. The sound of his name falling out of your mouth is driving him crazy and you look so damn pretty in his cowboy hat.

After a few more moments of bliss, you finally come undone releasing all of the fluids onto Leon's cock as your eyes roll back into your head and you slump down on top of Leon. Leon helps you along by moving his hand down to toy with your clit as you shudder from the waves of your orgasm.

"Look at you, you pretty little thing. So beautiful.." he grunts.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck as he holds you to his chest while burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

Your breathing is heavy and you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, feeling warm all over your body after your climax. Leon sighs as he starts to rub small circles into your back.

"Damn sweetheart, you may just be the death of me." he coos. A soft smile forms on your lips. Your head rests firmly on his chest, and you peer up at him.

"Does that mean I can keep the hat?" You ask with a sheepish smile.

Leon chuckles and rests a hand on your hat-covered head.

"Yeah, I 'spose so. It suits you."

[reiderwriter]

Puppet On A String

Chapter One of I Can't Help Myself

Synopsis: Expecting your big promotion any day, you're none too happy to hear about the departments miraculous new hire. You're even less happy when he moves into your office and starts touching things.

Warnings: Shitty office politics, brief allusions to Spencer's time in prison, swearing, reader is understandably bitter.

Masterlist || 5k Celebration Challenge

The day your professional aspirations came to a crashing halt was also the day that you met Doctor Spencer Reid. To say that your view of him was somewhat soured by the unpleasant circumstances of your morning meeting was an understatement and a half.

Sitting in your bosses stuffy work office, you felt your heart stop as the situation was explained.

“You understand, right, Y/N? We really value your work here, so we're really relying on you to help him settle in.” He grinned at you from behind his desk, but all friendliness in the gesture was dampened by the fact that he hadn't even bothered to look up from the papers he was looking through, glasses hanging low on his nose.

“I'm trying to understand, I am. But last week, we discussed me moving onto the tenure track. Are you saying that's out of the picture for me now?”

The smile turned into a grimace as he looked up at you, finally. He removed his glasses and folded them in front of him as you squirmed in your seat. You needed to advocate for yourself, but it wasn't easy when it felt like you were in the principals office being reprimanded.

“Doctor Spencer Reid will be joining us on loan from the FBI. Someone at the Bureau called in a favour with one of the college executives. The decision is above my pay grade - thus it is above yours.”

Your cheeks felt hot as he reprimanded you, and you bit your tongue as best you could.

“He will be with us for the semester, and then we can discuss your promotion again next semester. I will ask again, you understand the situation?”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken - the department wide email introducing your new member of staff and the generous donation from the FBI that came with him. You brought nothing to the department other than a stellar academic record and hard work.

“I'm glad we could both come to an understanding,” he said, aptly dismissing you as you stood to take your leave.

“Ah, one last thing, Y/N,” he said, stopping you in your tracks as you readied yourself to run to the nearest bathroom stall and cry until your first class - roughly 7 and a half minutes.

“Doctor Reid will be sharing your temporary office space. We're strapped for space, and there weren't any other facilities available at the last minute. Since your students always remark on how approachable and welcoming you are, you're the best person to show him around, too.”

The gloom in your heart hardened to anger as the man dismissed you, returning his glasses to his head and not bothering to make eye contact as he added more work to your already heavy load.

“Of course. Thank you.”

You closed the door behind you, willing yourself to not slam it, and stalked down the corridor to your own - now communal - office.

Half of your brain was screaming at you to quit, but with rent in a college town to pay, and the academic year already in session, there was no way you were finding something this lucrative again.

You'd worked your ass off for the last five months. You just had to survive three more with Doctor Spencer Reid.

You had to keep your emotions in control until at least your office, you thought, even as the inescapable tears threatened to fall down your face. You hate that you cried when you were angry, that your emotions couldn't even sort themselves out enough to give appropriate physical responses, but at least you could angry-cry in peace before your new coworker showed up.

You ripped open the door and stomped to your desk, slamming the door shut behind you as you fell down with your head in your hands and let out a frustrated groan.

“Um… hello, can I help you?”

The voice caught you so off guard, you almost jumped from your seat in shock, backing up to the single window in the office.

“Fuck, you scared the hell out of me. What- who are you?” You asked the man you now saw sitting at the sofa opposite your desk, next the door. So close in fact, that you didn't see him walking in.

He was sat down, but you could tell he was tall, slightly older than you, but with big brown eyes that betrayed some experience. He sat comfortably at first, legs crossed, book in hand, but as you spoke, he sat straighter, stiffer, his relaxed expression becoming somewhat colder.

“I'm Doctor Spencer Reid. I was told this is my office from today onwards? If I'm incorrect, I can leave you to your…”

Of course, the very attractive, soft-spoken man in front of you just happened to be the derailment of your career. Temporary, you reminded yourself. Temporary derailment.

“No. Doctor Reid, of course. Hello. I'm Y/N. We'll be sharing the office for the semester, I just didn't know you'd be here today.”

He frowned slightly, like sharing the space was as uncomfortable with him as it was with you.

“If you can excuse me, I have a class to teach in…” You looked to the shelves where your small clock had fallen over once again - the office was cramped and the shelves unstable enough that closing the door meant knocking at least three things over.

“Three minutes, shit. I have to leave, please keep to yourself, I have a lot of important documents in here.”

The words were colder than you would've liked, but you couldn't find the strength to care much about his opinion of you.

You grabbed your laptop and left the room swiftly, abandoning Spencer Reid to your shared office.

Your first meeting may have been sour due to circumstance, but your second was unpleasant on the strength of Spencer Reid's grating personality alone.

In your five months at the college, you'd worked up a system for classwork.

Gather books. Go to class. Pick up coffee. Teach. Leave class. Pick up a second coffee. Go to your office. Host office hours. Work on a research paper. Rinse and repeat for any other classes you had that day.

With such a busy and caffeine fuelled schedule, you kept your office as neat as you could with your rickety shelves.

So, returning to meet Spencer Reid a second time, you almost threw up at the sight that befell you in the office.

“Hey, welcome back.”

The man sat on the one inch of your floor that wasn't taken up by furniture with all of the books in the office stacked up around him, the shelves bare and tipping precariously to one side.

“What the hell did you do to my office?” You blanched, looking around, unable to see the set of books you had organized for your next class.

“The shelves are broken, I put in a request to have them replaced, and I've been organizing the books by topic so-”

“The books were already organized. By class, and week they're to be taught. Fuck, I have a seminar in 30 minutes, I need those books.”

To his credit, Spencer Reid looked panicked as he sat sifting through all the books, even as your anger rolled off of you in waves.

“I can fix this. What shelf was it on?”

“Don't bother, just ruin my day some more. Hey, how about next time, you just throw everything in the trash?”

“I was trying to help, we're going to be sharing the office, and there isn't exactly space for two desks with your current filing system.”

“So you decided to rearrange without telling me? Asking me? I've been here five months, but you strolled in five hours ago and decided to change everything to suit you.”

“That's not - look, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you can start your apology by footing the bill for whatever improvements you've made. We're not tenured professors. Anything we add to the room or request comes out of our paycheck, and I'm not starving myself for floor to ceiling bookshelves.”

Whatever retort he was about to make was lost as you grabbed your bag from the floor and stormed out, leaving him behind in your dilapidated office.

When you returned to your office later that day, he was nowhere to be found. His new furniture, however, was crowding the room. A clone of your own desk was pushed up against the side of it, the pair forming an L shape. Great. Couldn't have gotten any closer if you tried.

Your couch was still in place by the door, but the old bookshelves were gone. They were replaced by a sturdier looking wooden set that now shelved all the books you'd inherited in the office or were using for class. And some new titles.

He hadn't put them back in the order you needed them in, though you doubted he ever would, but instead had them grouped by topic and within groupings in alphabetical order.

“How very precise,” you said, running your fingers along the book spines as you made your way to your desk.

“Whoops,” you said, pulling out a book you knew wasn't yours and letting it fall to the floor.

Was it petty? Sure. Was it therapeutic?Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Nice. Mature,” a voice said behind you, and for the second time in 12 hours, you jumped at the sound of Spencer Reid's voice.

“Jesus Christ, you need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what, walking into my own office?” He said, leaning against the new bookshelves.

“Our office. Shared. For three months.”

“Oh so you do remember we have to coexist?” He asked, grinning down at you. When did he get so close that he had to look down at you?

“Trust me, your presence is…felt,” you said, gesturing around the cramped space.

“What classes are you teaching?” You sighed, pushing past him to the open door and sitting down at the sofa.

“Profiling and the Criminal Psyche and I'm guest lecturing in Criminology 101. I have a few special lectures on geographical profiles in the next month.”

“And office hours?”

“What?”

“Your office hours, you're going to need to post them soon. Mine are Mondays and Thursdays at 11am, you'll need to be out of the office then so I can consult with the students about any absences or grades. If you haven't decided on your hours yet, my schedule is taped in the first draw of my desk.”

You grabbed your jacket from the hook on the door and pulled it over you like a blanket, laying yourself down on the sofa.

“Why would I need your-”

“Do us both a favour and schedule your hours during my contracted teaching time. It'll be easier.”

“Then why don't you schedule yourself during mine?”

You scoffed as you pulled a couch cushion up to rest your head on, closing your eyes as you drowned him out.

“Gee, you're some kind of genius. Can't you figure that one out yourself?”

You heard his sight of frustration but plugged in your headphones anyway, enjoying your 20-minute power nap as you stubbornly refused to face the day's stress.

A week later, you were deep into a College Cold War.

Spencer had attempted what you'd thought was a truce on his second day, arranging the pile of books you needed for that week's seminars on his desk happily.

Until you went to grab the top of the stack, and his hand held yours down on top of it.

“Sorry, that's for my class,” he said, glancing up at you. He smiled as he noticed the irritation in your eyes as you ground your teeth together.

“I'm teaching a class today based on this text. It was an assigned reading-”

“What a coincidence. It's an assigned reading in my class as well. For all 46 students. You better run over to the library, Y/N.”

You dragged your hand out from under his, brushing off the heat that ran up your arm from his hand as disgust rather than attraction.

His existence was irritating, but his face and body were more distracting than anything.

Storming off, you knew you had to one up him somehow, but you wanted to put some thought into it before doing something impulsive. Your first thought had been slashing his tires, so some perspective was definitely needed.

A week passed, and you found yourself having to endure the man's company on a Friday night for a departmental welcome meal. You'd assumed a week ago when it was scheduled into your outlook calendar that it would be to celebrate your promotion, and now the egg was most definitely on your face.

You'd debated not even turning up, but a warning email had let you know that attendance was compulsory, and the dress code was semi-formal.

So, you begrudgingly forced yourself into the little black dress you'd purchased a lifetime ago for your first graduation and got yourself a taxi over to whatever ridiculously expensive restaurant you have to fast at this time.

“Y/N, you’re here. We weren't sure you'd show up, after… you know!” One of the older professors said as you walked in, pressing an air kiss to either cheek as she handed you a champagne flute.

“Well, attendance was compulsory, so here I am!” You wanted to wipe the pompous smile off the woman's face so badly, but unfortunately, she was a member of the hiring committee. Three more months of sucking up to her was in your future, courtesy of a shitty move by the FBI.

“You say that, but our guest of honor isn't even here yet. Typical, right?”

You downed the drink she gave you and excused yourself to take your seat at the dinner table, needing a place to rest your glass to save yourself from cracking it in your furious grip.

It took another hour for Spencer Reid to show his face, and to your glee, he looked genuinely uncomfortable at the prospect of the night ahead.

“Sorry, I was unpacking some stuff at my apartment.”

“Oh, did you move recently?” A curious voice trailed up the table to ask him as he awkwardly side stepped to his seat. Right beside you, obviously.

“No, just… I had some stuff packed up.”

He held his tongue, not revealing more as the table fell in an awkward silence.

You dragged another glass to your lips and sat back in your chair, doing your best to stay unaddressed as the appetizers finally came out.

“Does the department have dinners often?” Spencer whispered, his hot breath fanning against your neck as he leaned closer to you.

The hot feeling washed over you again as you turned towards him, immediately pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you.

“No. Usually, it is only when welcoming guest lecturers or when someone gains tenure.”

“So who got tenure?”

You scoffed. “Funny. Thanks, Spencer.”

“What?”

You looked back at him again, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

“This meal is to introduce you. Everyone else here has tenure.”

“You don't.”

“Yes, well, there wasn't exactly room in the budget for the hotshot FBI profiler and a steady income for another Professor.” You slammed your glass down again and picked up your bag and things, hoping the table hadn't heard your conversation.

“Please excuse me.” You said smiling at the rest of the table. Some of the women sent you sympathetic glances, but the department dinosaurs simply continued their conversations. You'd think a department of psychologists would be able to figure out they were all absolute narcissists.

You carefully exited the group and took yourself outside for some much needed air.

“Y/N.” He shouted from behind you again, and you had to be honest, you were sick of him following and sneaking up on you.

“God, what now, Spencer? Go back inside and get celebrated or whatever. They probably can't start the self-congratulatory circle jerk without you anyway.”

“I came to apologize. Again. But you don't seem to be able to handle the words ‘I'm sorry,’ at all, do you?”

He looked exasperated, but however he was feeling, you felt worse.

“Look, Spencer. I probably have nothing against you personally. But I've just been conned into another three months of probationary minimum wage because your boss at the Bureau decided he wanted rid of you for a month or two. Some of us didn't get child genius scholarships for multiple PhDs and aren't receiving two paychecks right now.”

“If money is an issue, Y/N, you know I could-”

“No. No, stop butting into my personal problems. We can be civil, but we're not… we're not friends, Spencer.”

You stepped back and let out another sigh as you forced the words to stand between you.

“Okay. I'll stay out of your way.”

“Great. Looking forward to it.”

“Sure. Me too.”

[mavrintarou]

[2:53 PM] Kozume Kenma

My version of Kenma

Warning: hurt to comfort & makeup smut

.

Kozume Kenma may look like a reserved and introverted man in public, but little did anyone know about the hidden facets of his personality that only you were aware of.

Kenma had a kink for cockwarming.

Any available opportunity, he wanted to be buried deep inside your pussy. Whether it would be while you guys slept, after sex or bathing, or when he was working (aka streaming).

However, the two of you engaged in a heated discussion, resulting in a temporary separation that lasted for three days.

You clarified that you would stay at your sister’s place for the week, giving your boyfriend space. Unfortunately, you returned to your shared condo with Kenma to grab more clothes and other necessities without letting him know.

As you noticed the closed door to his office, a clear indication that he was in a live session, you discreetly made your way to the shared bedroom to retrieve your belongings and depart as silently as possible.

You rummaged through the drawer of your swimming suit and stuffed it into your bag. After ensuring you got everything you needed, you walked out but froze when you got near Kenma’s office.

His door was wide open, and you couldn’t walk past without him seeing you.

Unless he wasn’t in his office.

Taking a deep breath, you moved your feet; even if he saw you or vice versa, you two were still on a break. Kenma was great at ignoring the problem, only wishing to brush it off or pretend as if it had never happened.

You looked straight, refusing to peek at the corner of your eyes to see if he was in his office.

“You’re really going to just walk by and not say a word?”

You barely reached the doorway when you halted, and your brow raised, surprised to hear him confront you. You tilt your head back to look at him; he sits in his chair, leaning back and watching you with tired eyes.

“I forgot something and just came to grab it, just pretend I wasn’t here.” Because you’re great at doing that.

“Come here.”

You looked away and let out a sharp breath. “I need to go; my sister is waiting for me downstairs.”

“Come. Here. Y/n.” He punctuated each word in a tone she recognized as his dominant and assertive voice.

You instinctively stepped back and positioned yourself between the doorway, standing your ground. “What?” you asked, making an effort to maintain your composure despite the circumstances.

“Come. Here.” He emphasized each word, his tone firm yet gentle.

You set your bag down before walking over to him, and when you got close enough, he moved like lightning, tugging you over and between his legs. His face was buried in your stomach, and his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs. “Don’t go….”

“I’ll be back in a couple of days – “ He shook his head, tightening his grip. “Ken, we should use this time to ourselves to –“

“I’m sorry; I don’t want to be away from you anymore,” he pleaded, his gaze locked with yours, filled with desperation. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Cupping his face in your hands, your eyes scanned his entire countenance, taking note of the dark circles beneath his eyes and the bloodshot redness in his gaze. Concerned, you softly inquired, “when did you last sleep?”

Being a popular streamer, Kenma often went for extended periods without sleep, sometimes exceeding 24 hours.

“I couldn’t sleep without you.”

You couldn’t accuse him of lying knowing full well he needed you to sleep. You are his drug yet his peace and when it came to sleep, he truly needed you to sleep.

“Ken –“

“Don’t go, please…” he pleaded in a whimpering tone she had never heard of.

Letting out a deep sigh, you tenderly wrapped an arm around his shoulder and ran your fingers through his hair. “Okay, let me make a call and inform my sister,” you suggested, awaiting his response. However, he clung to you, not letting you go. “Ken, let go so I can get my phone,” you gently urged, hoping he would release his grip.

Shaking his head, his hand began searching for his phone on the desk and handed it to you. “Just use mine,” he muttered, offering a solution without letting you go.

.

You found it difficult to fall asleep because Kenma’s weight felt like an anchor, making you hesitant to move for fear of disturbing him once he drifted off to sleep. You were familiar with Kenma’s affectionate hold in bed, but the way he clung to you at that moment felt different. It seemed as though he was afraid that you would slip away once he entered a deep slumber. His weight on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder with his breath tickling your cheek and neck. He had one arm pillowing your head with the other wrapped around your waist and your legs entangled together.  

After assuring your sister you’re okay and will follow up with her, you force Kenma to turn off his computer and sleep.

He shook his head like an exhausted puppy, “only if you sleep with me.”

It’s been an hour, and you can still feel his grip on your shirt readjusting from time to time, letting you know he wasn’t in a deep slumber yet.

His fingers kept twitching and you finally exhaled and whispered, “just do it, it’s fine…”

You should have known when he stripped down to just his boxer briefs, that he was considerate enough to leave just that much of clothing on. Kenma always slept naked.

Kenma was sensitive, when he felt his privilege had been taken away from him, he needed reassurance upon receiving it again.  

He doesn’t hesitate to turn you on his side and swiftly, any lower garments you had on are gone and Kenma is behind you.

“Lift your leg for me,” he whispers huskily.

When you lift your leg, he slips his semi-hard cock into your hot and ready pussy. Your body misses him just as much as he misses you. Relaxing your leg you let out a breath, “now, sleep.”

He let out a shaky breath that sounded much like a low groan. “Okay,” he whispered, voice clearly satisfied.

You don’t feel him truly relaxed and asleep until his hand slips inside your shirt, skims against your tummy until his palm is against one of your tits, giving it a gentle squeeze. His even breath calms you at last and lulls you to sleep.

.

You wake up two hours later in the same position, Kenma is behind you and still inside you.

He was deeply asleep and you gently pry his hand away from your chest before slowly easing his cock out of you. It was no shock to you when you felt a gush of sticky fluid release and you quickly squeezed your thighs close. Kenma had no problem ejaculating in his sleep. You have woken up to him, thinking he was awake due to his hips moving only to discover after he’s cummed, he was thrusting in his sleep.

“Don’t go…”

Looking over your shoulder, Kenma was barely awake, only enough to sense you moving.

“Keep sleeping,” you whisper, pulling the comforters over his shoulder.

He locked his arms around your waist, pressing his face against your back. “No, don’t leave me.”

Frustratedly you snapped, “I’m not leaving – Christ… just…” you exhale, “just sleep, I’m just going to be in the living room.”

Incredibly stubborn, he shook his head, tightening his hold on you.

“Let me go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” you assured, tapping his hand that’s locked around your waist. You felt a huff of breath against your back before his grip loosened and you were free.

.

You wiped the residue smeared between your thighs and cleaned yourself before walking out. You nearly swore under your breath when you swung open the door and Kenma was leaning against the doorway, still naked.

“Done?”

You blinked, “uh – yeah…”

Without a word, he reached for your wrist and tugged you along back to his bed. “Get in, please.”

You followed his command and crawled into his bed again. He followed and spooned you from behind.

“I’m sorry.” Kenma must have felt your tensed body. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, I am aware of my behavior and how it affects you and I will change. I’ll talk out our problems, stop ignoring them.” He turns you around so he can see your face and tilts your chin until you stare into his eyes. “Forgive me, please?”

You nodded, “I forgive you.” You lean to press a kiss to his lips. “There’s no next time.”

You’re pulled into his arms as he confirms, “yes, there’s no next time, I’ll make sure of it.” He leans back to smile at you before kissing you again.

You’re rolled onto your back and knew where it was going. Your legs widen to allow him in between your legs. His cock was already pressed and rubbing against your pussy. “Please,” you begged.

He slips inside you and Kenma keeps a steady pace. He leans over you, supporting his weight on his left elbow right, “I can’t live without you, Y/n. You are the air I breathe, my life…” His right hand pushes your shirt up to expose your tits and groped one mound, tweaking your perky nipple. “I don’t ever want to be without you again…”

Your hands are placed on his waist, urging him to thrust deeper into you. “Me too, Ken… I missed you… fuck – ah… more… harder, Ken…”

Slow yet deep thrusts have you seeing stars. “Need you… need you…”

His chest is pressed against yours as he grunts into your ear. “Me too… always…”

The room is filled with skin slapping skin and the creaking of his bed.

You moan his name, belly tightening and your pussy fluttering around his cock. Kenma’s cock jerks inside you before following with ejaculation. You feel each spurt leaving his cock, shooting at your womb.

Kenma shifts you, rolling you both around while still intimately connected. You lie above him and straddle his body. “This is great makeup sex.”

Running a hand through his hair, he smiles, “agree. Again?”

. . .

E/n: I watched the Garbage Dump movie a few weeks ago and loved it!

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[neopuppy]

Pretzel (M)

pairing. alpha jeno x female omega reader

genre. non-traditional a/b/o AU, and they were roommates, pw-barely any-p, M/F, one shot

warnings. profanity, gamer Jeno, mild e2l, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8k+

now playing. pretzel//nct dream

smut warnings. unprotected sex, heat sex, masturbation, oral, possessiveness, choking, biting, degradation/praise, knotting, wet messy slicked up filth

———————————————————

Today is going to be a good day, because today you woke up with renewed motivation despite another restless night.

Your apartment is the perfect walking distance from work. Utilities are included in the rent, there’s an adorable bakery across the street that serves the best almond croissants, and the balcony has an amazing view of the mountains.

Not to mention rent was more than within your budget.

Nothing can ever actually be perfect though, your roommate reminds you as he steps out of his bedroom reeking of pungent Alpha scent, shooting you a wink on the way to the bathroom.

“Morning, Omega.”

Your apartment is perfect, other than one insufferable factor.

Jeno Lee moved in last week after your landlord had promised you ‘no issue’ of housing you with another Omega. No issue until it became an issue, that is.

‘You said Alphas aren’t permitted on this floor!’

Mr. Huang shrugs, blaming his son's lack of diligence. ‘Ah, I give him one task! You kids never listen.’

‘I don’t care! I can’t live with an Alpha!’

‘It will be temporary, okay? Technically he paid the first month’s rent in full along with the entire deposit before you. So unless you want to be out on the street by the end of the day, I suggest you learn to live with it. Besides, it’s not the 1900s anymore, what Omega doesn’t use heat suppressants these days?’

You, of course.

Not that you had reason to divulge your medical history to nothing more than a stranger.

‘How soon can you relocate me?’

‘As soon as another tenant moves out, it’s all yours! I’ll make a note of it right now!’

Mr. Huang, of course, failed to mention the fact that none of his current leases had less than 6 months left to go.

‘Us Alphas get a bad reputation for no reason! Anywho! Jeno seems like a really nice young man!”

“Temporary my ass.” You mutter, picking burnt bits off your breakfast. A really nice young man, or the bane of your existence.

Jeno, your new roommate who makes zero effort to shut the bathroom door before dropping his towel, leaving every inch of skin visible for your puffy half-awake eyes to take in.

Jeno, your new roommate who smirks without breaking his gaze while shutting the door enough for the latch to somehow never lock.

Jeno, your new roommate who has no qualms about how loud his moans bounce off the tile shower walls.

Jeno, your new roommate who strolls through the living room still dripping wet, scrubbing his hair dry aimlessly on his way to the kitchen to sit across from you and take a bite of your uneaten toast while scrolling through his phone, occasionally nudging into your shoulder to point out something he finds hilarious.

Jeno, your new roommate who manages to disrupt your peaceful perfection any chance he gets.

———————————————————

“You don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get? You live with a sexy Alpha, and you’re terminally single. Of course I get it!” Your best friend says, clicking her tongue snarkily. 

“Me being single has nothing to do with this!” You snap back, pacing back and forth through your living room. Occasionally bending to pick up the various scattered belongings your roommate never seems to put away, from different remotes for his numerous consoles to empty snack wrappers. 

“Wait, these are my chips!” You snicker, turning on your heel to storm into the kitchen. “This guy has no respect for me, he thinks I’m an idiot!”

“Oh come on, don’t be ridiculous! He seemed really nice the other day when I dropped you off.”

“You met him for 2 seconds and asked me if he has a girlfriend, you have no right to an opinion.” Shifting your phone between your shoulder and ear, you begin to inspect your cabinet, noticing different items missing.

“I knew it!” You exclaim, glaring before quickly explaining that you need to hang up.

“Jeno! did you eat my ramen again?!?”

Another day of living with an Alpha, and another day full of frustration.

From your toothpaste spilling out because someone continues to lie about using it and never properly closing the tube, to your roommate carrying the faint scent of your favorite body wash combined with his overbearing zesty bergamot Alpha musk. Not to mention the amount of times you’ve noticed your groceries diminishing before you could even touch them.

Jeno has more than just an affinity for your belongings, he either had to be doing this on purpose, to annoy you, or he truly did not comprehend the meaning of ‘invasion of privacy’.

“Jeno!” 

It’s Sunday, the day you both coincidentally always end up staying home. Not that you do go out for much other than for work and to complete errands— something your roommate never fails to mention when taunting you for being a stay-at-home ‘hermit’.

The beginning of your tantrum goes unnoticed, of course, because while every little thing he does manages to itch through your limbs in the most irritating of ways, Jeno could care less. Your presence never fazed him, if anything you only brought amusement to his day the more you’d stomp and reprimand him over minuscule happenings.

“Jeno!” Another shout of his name is the only warning you give before breaking into his bedroom. The crinkled empty packet of ramen gripped tightly in your hold; because why bother throwing out the evidence after eating the last pack? That would mean he gave a shit.

“Jeno! what the fuck is your prob—“

The scent of crushed up lemon hits you first before the familiar bergamot; dripping sticky bitter fruity juice between, staining everything surrounding along the way with acid. It’s more than overwhelming, locking your knees together, melting your feet to the floor, ferociously curling through your gut. 

It’s not Jeno’s usual scent, it’s arousal. His usually annoying scent that clings to every inch of this apartment clouded by raw, depraved, hungry, unmated feral Alpha arousal.

The headphones attached to his head block out the sound of your shrill annoyance, computer screen in front of him displaying a video of a desperate Omega clawing at bed sheets; hurled closer to the camera filming them. Rough thrusts and a fist secured in her hair rip her neck into a painful arch, making the shot of her breasts clapping together much too clear. Tear stained cheeks glow ahead, lifted up by a smile and what you can only assume from reading her lips is ‘More! PLEASE more!’

Jeno grunts from his chest, a loud thwack of skin meeting skin blends with the thick buzz of pleasure filling the four walls you stand awestruck in the middle of, unable to convince yourself to leave and pretend this never happened.

The empty package of ramen drops from your fingers, clutching at your stomach to calm the heat that’s begun to spring, pushing lower the more seconds pass stuck in place; lost to the humid scent of your roommate’s sweat trickling down the side of his face.

Too engulfed with his need to get off, the Alpha has yet to notice you; his profile illuminated by the screen radiating the most light in his dimly lit bedroom. Hems focused, gnawing on his bottom lip with skin folded between his eyebrows, releasing short staggered breaths the faster his forearm jerks. Floppy strands of dark blue hair bounce above his sharp eyebrows, muscular arm rippling beautifully under the shadowed light the more power he exerts.

The deafening obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh draws your gaze lower, choking on a dry inhale at the sight of the tip of his glistening length.  

‘This is an invasion of privacy’ you think, convincing yourself to step back without caution. 

“Ughh, fuck!” Jeno’s voice rings out deep, gravelly and strained as if he’s been edging himself for hours, and maybe he has..

The realization that you’d last seen him this morning on his way to the kitchen flashes across the back of your mind. 

Jeno had paused in his tracks upon spotting you stretched in a split on a yoga mat. Skin tight shorts riding up your bottom, bunched up between your cheeks catching him off guard with his foot stuck mid-air.

‘Uhh..’

Peering over your shoulder, you see his jaws half hung open, his pink lips parted with a lost gaze. ‘What?’

He didn’t respond, continuing to eye from the curve in your stretched foot up to your waist dipping in, unable to neglect a throbbing sensation starting to form inside of his sweats.

‘Jeno!’ You called out annoyed, twisting into another stretch that only arches your back deeper. ‘Do you need something?’

The Alpha straightened up, clearing his throat with a shake of his head before continuing to the kitchen, his hands mindlessly reaching for your half of the cabinet in search of something to munch on; he hadn’t had time to go to the store this week yet, and maybe your food just tastes better than his.

Fuck.

Jeno couldn’t stop himself from sneaking looks over his shoulder, struck by the way you’d gently blot your face free of sweat. The rise and fall of your chest only spurting more thoughts he knows better than to allow himself to have.

It’s been almost a month of this now, of struggling to keep himself collected each time he leaves his room to find you either glaring at him from the kitchen table over a steaming cup of coffee or bent over in some suggestive position. Whether it be with your head buried in a cabinet searching for your favorite ramen bowl that he may or may not have purposely hidden, or your stupid pilates stretches. Those stupid stupid positions you put yourself in, some he had no idea one could even contort themself into.

It wasn’t much at first, Jeno thought sure, yeah, you’re cute. Maybe you’re really cute, especially when you huff and puff around your shared living quarters complaining about your toothpaste again.

It really was a mistake the first time he used it, but the way you bursted into his room screaming about how you pay extra to maintain a pearly white smile tickled him more than it should have. 

Creamy wash dangled from the dispenser of your favorite body wash, the one that blended beautifully with your natural scent and clung to the shower walls even hours after you’d already finished washing up. He swiped it off, dragging the sugary sweet white soap down the center of his chest. A spark of excitement heightened the lower he dragged, easy to imagine you there, taking your time to scrub and rub the bubbly foam over your skin until it felt silky smooth; as silky smooth as your bare arm felt against his bumping into each other in the hallway. Soft enough for an apology to get lost on his lips..

‘Sor—‘ Jeno drifted off, the area you grazed prickling on his arm. A tingle shot up his limb from the slight contact, curling his sock covered toes into the carpet while you glared and cursed him under your breath back on your way inside of your bedroom as if you felt nothing at all.

He tried to stay subtle about it, knowing you threw a fit about getting paired with an Alpha to live with, but it became more difficult with each passing day.

Maybe snatching a pair of your underwear had been a mistake, but as he saw them fall from your freshly dried hamper of laundry he couldn’t deny this must be fate. Not with how soft the cotton material felt against his nose, not with the fresh and airy scent of your wash sticking to his palms. 

Maybe jerking off with a handful of your body wash hadn’t been the best idea, but he couldn’t deny how much easier picturing you on your knees under the showerhead had become, even after cumming on the wall with his face smashed against the foggy tile; sadly watching his need for you swirl it’s way down the drain.

That’s how Jeno found himself once again searching up Omega’s submitting for their Alpha on the heat hub.

Maybe he returned to the search page for roommates fucking during heats and ruts more than once, maybe he never clicked out. Especially from one particular video featuring an Omega with similar features as yours, an added bonus that she too hated her roommate much like you.

“UGH!” Another whined groan snaps you back to reality, stumbling back as Jeno’s hips jump forward, fucking into his fist faster to climax in time with the video playing.

The bend in his neck accompanied with a string of moans shatters your resilience, stepping on your own foot with the other too distracted as you step back. The small shelf near his door meets your elbow and crashes down, pouring out a pile of video games and DVDs noisily; cursing under your breath at your failed attempt to sneak away without notice.

“Shitshitshit!”

“What the fuck?!” Jeno twists fast, too fast, lunging his head back with the headphones still plugged into his computer. He scatters, speedily shoving his length back inside of his sweats with one hand as his other works to shut off the screen. “What the fuck are you doing in here!”

“I—I—“ dropping to your knees, you try to speak. Tongue heavy in your mouth causing you to stutter, aimlessly patting for the door frame to get out. A familiar pang of heat quickly surfaces, screaming for an Alpha to take advantage of you any way they please.

Jeno fumbles to stand, stopping dead in his tracks when it hits him. Stronger than his own scent, the undeniable waft of Omega slick punches through his chest, choking on a deep inhale of your body's release practically begging to be claimed.

“Heat?” He says quietly to himself, jaw slowly falling open watching you try to move away. Crawling backward with your palms on the floor into the hallway. With the little bit of strength you still have, you turn to run on your knees through the hall, coughing against the urge to stay put and let the Alpha in your presence strip you down to nothing. 

Your bedroom door clicks shut just in time to catch sight of Jeno rushing out of his, stampeding over to crash against the door slamming shut in his face.

“You’re in heat??” He asks, sounding it utter awe. Licking across his lips to remoisten them, he’s still too shocked to process everything, groaning with his groin shoved flat to the door to stave off his hunger. The idea that you fell into heat because of him doing more than enough to get him off.

“Aw come on,” Jeno presses closer to the outside of your bedroom door. A smirk evident in his voice as his warm cheek drags against the chilled wood to speak near the small crevice between the frame. “All of this arguing about lack of privacy for weeks and here you are, triggered your heat because you were being a pervert? Naughty naughty.”

“Go away!” You clamber to barricade yourself in even though the doors locked, stuffing a pillow over your face to minimize the pained shriek you let out.

Jeno sighs, softly knocking his forehead against the door. “Promise I’ll be nice if you let me in, it must hurt..” 

“Not in heat.” You croak in anguish, dropping your head back to suppress a cramp spiking between your thighs. 

“Sure baby..” Jeno’s lips tighten, wondering how long it’s been since you last went into heat with an Alpha around; your scent’s dizzying, churning his already aroused brain to nothing but a pile of mush. “Bet it’s been so long since anyone touched you, hmm? you know you can’t get through this alone.”

“I said go away Jeno!” 

The mix of your scents tastes like a drug poured onto your tongue with each struggled breath you take, burying your nose into your pillow harder to keep the Alpha’s more powerful one subdued. It’s impossible with him so close, practically seeping through your walls with each taunting word and delighted laugh he lets out.

“Liked what you saw that much, Omega?” He’s brazen now, fully digesting what this means after weeks of pining for you in secret. Jeno can barely contain a smile, momentarily grateful for the door keeping you divided. “How much did you see, baby?”

He sighs through the door, dragging his knuckles up and down, the sound of it looming above where you crouch and listen. “Did you know I was thinking about you? I always do now. Always think about your soft pretty scent, your tight ass bent over on my bed, teasing me until I stop gaming and fuck the life out of you.”

A gasp collects in your pillow, tightening your legs closer together to stop yourself from squealing as another dollop of slick pours out. The shorts you still had on after finishing your morning workout completely wrecked now. “I know you saw it, you saw everything, didn’t you? Is that what did it for you, baby? Watching me jerk off to another Omega? Did you know I had you on my mind?”

Jeno waits, chewing his bottom lip while picturing your stunned face again; silently absorbing the heavy aroma of slick you left between the hallway walls. “Come on baby, did you know I was thinking about you? Pretending my pretty roommate cried and begged me to go harder, fuck you faster and deeper like some needy Omega bitch in heat..”

Breath lodges in your throat upon his admission, caring less whether it be true or false, he knew exactly what to say to turn your insides upside down. 

“Come on, open the door for Alpha.” 

A minute of silence passes, and you think about it. 

Jeno could help you through your heat, this living situation is temporary anyway. It’s too late to find a clinic to suffer it out at, and your heat wasn’t supposed to hit until next month. You had no time left to prepare, and if your memory serves you right— you need new batteries too.

As much as you try to deny an attraction to your roommate after daily complaints, it’s not as if you have been able to ignore how nervous his presence alone makes you.

Jeno annoys you because you like him, and that’s upset you ever since the day you met.

The tips of your fingers brush around your doorknob, pushing onto your knees with a sniffle into your pillowcase. 

“Go away Jeno,” you say finally, shoving back to curl into a ball as your Omega screams to let him in.

“Fine, suit yourself and suffer in there alone all you want.” He chuckles, tapping up and down your door to create a drum that accompanies his sweet vocals. “I’ll be in my room where you found me, waiting for when you’re ready. Come out, come out whenever you want, Omega.”

Footsteps rain heavily through the corridor, beating against your ear. You sigh defeatedly, returning to press up and listen for the familiar sound of his bedroom door shutting. It takes more than a minute, the Alpha lingering down the hall in wait, expecting you to succumb and claw your way out with your hands positioned ready for prayer and beg for his help.

He sighs quietly, but loud enough to your alert senses, shuffling back to his bedroom with the door shutting but not clicking to lock.

You know he means it, it’s an invitation, precisely as he said to recreate what you caught him watching.

The better part of your conscience commends your ability to stay put and control your natural instinct that craves every inch of the Alphas skin under your tongue, but the devil you ignore clawing at your shoulder chants otherwise.

“Fuck me.” You hiss between grinding teeth, pushing your underwear down for a pinch of relief. The first touch of air-conditioned breeze rustling between your hips aches more than usual. In fact, everything aches more than usual, never once had any heat hit you this hard and left you this aroused before.

This had to be Jeno’s fault. Stupid Alpha leaving his enticing scent everywhere. Stupid Alpha pushing your buttons for weeks until you ended up here on your knees contemplating how much more of this you can take.

Delirium takes over your brain before you can even sweep your fingers between your thighs. Slick aggressively pours down the inside of your legs, sticky and wet down to the pits of your knees making everything all the more uncomfortable. 

Heats had been bearable for the most part, mostly able to handle it yourself, even still showing up to work on your last couple of days with how well you managed to control your Omegas desires and stayed on top of using suppressants.

Jeno just had to show up and fuck up everything for you, with his stupid dark shiny eyes, his stupid attractive smile, and his extra stupid ripped stature that ignited a hint of fear in your gut every time he stood near you, every time his solid flesh so much as rubbed against yours.

As if your Omega could predict your next move, the devil on your shoulder cheered, encouraging you to hurry before ‘our Alpha’ grows more agitated with us.

“Useless.” Banging your head against the wall, you smear a slick painted on your hand across your shirt, shuddering as another pained moan slips out of you.

Silently pleading for forgiveness to no one other than yourself, your last shred of self-restraint evaporates, twisting the knob to collapse out onto the hallway floor. Jeno’s room seems further than ever now as your knees burn to carry you across the expanse of space separating the two of you. The journey down the hall pricks through your bones, cracking and hurting until you finally barge into his bedroom.

The Alphas exactly as you’d found him earlier seated at his computer chair, another video playing on the screen, headphones back on. 

“Alpha..”

A smirk creeps onto his face before looking over to watch you miserably trudge through his room, pathetic with drool already dripping from the corners of your lips.

“Jeno..” Your knees burn and bruise against the floor, slowly crawling deeper in without strength to open the door properly. He fully expected for you to lose control of yourself and find your way back to him, on your knees again as you’d left earlier.

Shifting with his feet paddling against the floor, he swivels side to side waiting until you near close enough to clutch onto his calves, burying your digits along his sweats to hoist yourself higher. “Alpha..”

“You think you deserve anything from me? After I offered you my help so nicely?” Jeno tsks, maintaining an icy expression. Eyes narrowed and jaw locked tight to keep up his cold unforgiving composure even as you pull harder on his sweats to lift yourself between his thighs; even while you drag your face against his upper thigh panting like a thirsty pup. 

“I think you owe me..” he says, sucking in a breath between his teeth, leaning his neck to one side. “How can you expect Alpha to willingly help you after treating me like this?” 

Jeno continues on, pouting when you scratch at his chest. The collar of his shirt dragged down by your grip on the material to pull yourself closer to him. 

“Please, please Alpha, n—need.” You whisper, pressing a wet kiss to his navel that sets a chill of heat down to his groin. The combination of your fierce grip on him and the heat radiating from your fingertips has him fighting to keep calm, slowly allowing his eyelashes to flutter shut as the scent of your prominent thick slick crashes like high-tide waves against his skull.

“What do you need?” Jeno says, lowering his gaze to pan over the distress that’s taken over your beautiful features. 

“Alpha please, please don’t make me..”

The dark glints lining his iris flicker with shards of gold and reds from listening to your groveling, but not enough to break his defiance. “Why should I still be nice? Have you been very nice to me, baby?”

With a clear head you’d probably snicker, bite back and mock him in return, but with heat completely engulfing your body you couldn’t find a care to argue. A coughed wail runs from your throat, stradling the small space left on his lap to wrap around the Alphas broad shoulders and soothe your raging heart with his usual bitter scent that’s ripened, sweet as a bowl of freshly cut fruit; staining your tongue with traces of acidity on a hot summer day. 

Gripping your waist, suckinghe sucks in a breath as he admires the amount of space his large hands are able to cover. Squeezing you tight as the idea of bruises and marks created by his hands showing up on your hips and thighs manifests beyond fantasy. “There there, you know Alpha will take care of you.”

Jeno pinches your chin, having to bite back his lower lip at the way your mouth wobbles; glossy gaze staring back at him pleading to be ruined. “Good Omegas know how to ask for what they need.”

“Jeno!” You whine, sniffling before a tear slips feeling more desperate and humiliated as he grasps your hip with one firm hand to stop you from grinding. “Please! I need you!”

The magic words pour from your lips, returning the Alphas hold to wrap around your waist to drag you closer; rolling his hips up simultaneously to press your bare core against his sweats forming a darkened puddle of slick upon his groin. “Smell so good for me baby, that’s all for me, right?” 

There’s something akin to desperation in the way Jeno’s stares at you while saying your name, pressing the pads of his fingers in your cheeks as he waits for you to speak, to reaffirm that you need him, not just any Alpha but him.

Pawing at his chest, you slowly nod, dipping closer to inhale every bit of him. For a small sliver of his taste to meet your lips. The scent you’ve begun to grow accustomed to feels even more overpowering now, aromatic and lucid inducing; hypnotizing your hips to roll faster for any type of friction against your center. 

Jeno forces your lips into a pout, allowing three breaths to pass between you before closing the small distance with his soft pink pout swallowing yours.

He kisses with equal hunger, nestled between your lips to suck and rub. The end of his tongue finding space inside of your mouth as you let out a gasp of surprise. Jeno’s big hands run down your back, kneading your ass over your shirt on the way to grip your thighs. 

The Alpha effortlessly moves to stand, lifting you with a secured hold around your thighs to set you on an empty space on his desk. Warm hands roam over your body, pushing beneath your shirt to clutch onto your waist again, this time with his digits sinking directly into your flesh. 

“You feel so good, so soft.” Jeno says between breaths, mesmerized by how smooth you feel. His hips rut up between yours, further smearing around the mess of slick coating his sweats. 

Bending lower, Jeno lays you back on his desk, licking the spit that's ended on your chin, rubbing his nose against yours before returning to your parted lips to plunge deep inside of your mouth; tongue gliding along yours. 

“Al-alpha..” moans continuously spew between strokes of his tongue, losing comprehension with another piston of his hips. The Alphas growing bulge presses stiff against your center, rubbing impatiently on your clit. “please, need you, n—need you now”

Jeno grunts, chewing your lips with his hands exploring, from squeezing your thighs and ass to tracing your shape up to your chest. He’s everywhere, mauling your mouth as he grinds harder, massaging your breasts with a strong hold, fingers tweaking your hardened buds. If not for his unrelenting will to not immediately fuck into you, you’d be sure he’s in rut.

“Need you too.” Jeno whimpers, winding the fabric of your t-shirt around your waist as a handle to grip and jam against you harder. “Need to taste you, feel every part of you.”

“Please, y-yes, Alpha please.”

Jeno nods rapidly, breaking into a sweat still fully clothed above you, large and powerful with his demanding empty thrusts that spiral up your chest, craving for more, more of the Alpha to consume you, more more more.

“Can you cum like this?” He asks breathlessly, a hint of whine singing from his throat as he bends to lick up your jaw, trailing up your ear to suck on. “Cum for me baby, wanna taste you.”

“Alpha, n-no—” his pace is unforgiving now, pushing your shirt up to stuff into your mouth muffling your moans. Jeno grunts listening to the nasty wetness between you, slick dripping down between his thighs leaving his sweats soaked. The table under you a complete mess of arousal smearing its way up to your lower back.

“Oh fuck!” With gritted teeth he pulls away to watch your chest heave, hips lifting up in desperate need. A stream of slick pulses out, squirting onto his shirt and the space under you, landing with a loud obscene splash. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

He can’t wait any longer, dropping to his knees quickly, his mouth attaches to your entrance before you can finish. Swallowing and sucking the last spurts of slick, the shock of his tongue dipping in shooting your spine rigid; bowing up into an arch with your feet scrambling to settle on the desk. “Alpha!”

Jeno groans from deep within his chest, his tongue working in and out of your convulsing heat instantly unable to get enough of the slick pouring down his throat. “Do you even know how good you taste?” 

The Alpha growls between slurping slick and licking between your folds, his nose covered with a layer of wetness from dragging up and down your exposed center. The tip of it rolling your clit into a mind-numbing circle as he takes a deep breath, slick filling his nostrils leaving him with hardly any space to breathe.

“Fuckfuck.” Jeno feels out of his mind, days of jerking off to the thought of you all leading to this moment. Ravenous with hunger to swallow you whole, he sucks on your labia folds, alternating the velvety flesh with light nips and pointed licks. Fat stripes of his tongue drag from your rim to your clit, lips pursed around the bundle of nerves to make you shriek.

A repeated chant of ‘so fucking good’ between deep intakes of wet breath sounds between your moans, heated palms squeeze your hips pushing onto the backs of your thighs to lift your lower back from the desk. Jeno stays bent over driving in deeper at this new angle, his tongue pushing in and out stretching your walls purposefully. 

Heat licks through your stomach when the Alpha pushes two digits in alongside his tongue, the stretch torturous as he falls into a fast-paced pump. Long thin fingers scissor way inside of you against the strain his tongue works up to, wiggling in deeper until his jaw hinges and locks. The tension in his muscle eliciting a grunt that fills your insides with toe curling vibrations.

Jeno imagines he could die with his face buried between your thighs, wondering how he went this long without your slick lathered on his tongue. His nose rubs back and forth against your clit the more he attempts to push in, slipping another finger into you. 

“Jeno! I’m—fuck!” You keen, wrinkling between your eyebrows as a shout and another wave of pleasure crashes over you. White heat filled with lust blacks out your senses as climax fully hits, having to reach for chunks of the Alphas hair to yank at between wailing for him to stop.

The Alphas ears feel foggy, clouded with fuzzy cotton and the screams of your pleased moans. He works past your orgasm, tongue gliding out to only focus on your clit, striking it in repeated motion with lick after lick; long fingers gaining momentum as he buries a fourth in and jackhammers another orgasm out of you. 

Your next release hits faster, his arm stiffening to push the tips of his digits against a spongy spot deep inside of you, splaying his other hand under your bellybutton with a harsh suck around your bundle of nerves. 

“Jeno!” 

Screams sound around the room, eyes rolling to the back of your skull with the assault from the Alphas merciless fingers and mouth. Slick rushes out viscously bursting past the digits lodged deep inside of you, coming to a still as he enjoys the stream smacking him across the face. 

“Holy fuck.” Jeno sighs, licking the mess off his lips before dragging out and kissing from over your slit to your entrance, hips twitching up with a whine from the oversensitivity.

“So perfect..” the Alpha mumbles quietly, not loud enough for you to hear over your euphoric daze; still lost in heat and addictive gratification.

He’s quick to strip himself, kicking off the sweats you’ve ruined and coming to stand up straight above you, looming large and broad.

“Never seen a prettier Omega.” He flatters, holding onto your knees to keep you spread open. Another embarrassing wad of slick leaks at the visual of the Alphas built frame hovering above you, his chest defined and abdomen etched in solid muscle, inching closer to your core. “With the prettiest pussy too.”

“Alpha, fuck me already, please!” You preen, squirming in his hold. His praise only does more to heighten your impatience and despair, squirming against the desk impatiently.

“Want me that much hmm? You going to cum that hard on my cock for me too?” Jeno clicks his tongue, sucking a breath between his teeth to lessen his Alphas rage to take you right now. The thought of fucking you for the first time anywhere other than his bed not sitting right with him. Leaning over, he kisses you softly, savoring the pilant moans you share between licks across the seam of your lips. Trailing his tongue inside to twist against yours and pull, drawing your neck and waist to arch up and allow his arms belt around you. 

Surprising you with his strength, he squats to haul you off the table, his bed not far off to lay you flat even with his legs shaking after staying hard for this long. Jeno can feel his last semblance of power disappear as he helps you out of your shirt, fully exposed beneath him with your face hidden and ducked against your shoulder as you flush. Suddenly shy with the Alphas dark glossy gaze taking his sweet time to scan your figure and caress your delicate curves.

“So pretty for your Alpha..” Jeno whispers, completely enraptured. Sleek eyes glazed over as they pass across every inch of skin, tickling down your sides to grab onto your hips again. The hiss you let out lets him know it hurts, bruises surely forming in the shapes of his fingers, an image to revel in until he can properly claim you.

“Alpha, fuck me.. please fuck me.” You whine more feverishly now, reaching to scratch and pinch his waist and meld your bodies closer, his thighs forming more space between your hips to settle his length against your core.

“Do you even understand what you’re begging me to do baby?” Jeno questions, lapping his mouth clean as his palm flattening around your throat. “Begging for Alpha to ruin you.”

“Wa—want you, want you to ruin me.” His grip tightens, snaking your throat with a chokehold when you plead for him to make it hurt, make it hurt good enough to remember. “Pl—please..”

“What if I need everything, what if I need every part of you?” He breathes harshly, hips rolling forward to drag his size between your gushing folds. “Will you give me that? Give me everything.”

“Everything,” tears spring free as your hands reach to wrap around his forearm, trembling head to toe with each pass of the Alphas cock from your navel to your clit, the stimulation pushing your mind deeper into an abyss of heat and desire. “I’m yours.”

Jeno’s throat jumps, cursing under his breath as he litters a path of kisses down your jaw, nipping your chin on his way to your chest. Perfectly straight pearly teeth bury into the pert mound of your breast with a growl, shaking his head to sink deeper into the fleshy meat and leave a mark. “So good, so fucking good.”

Loosening his hold on your neck, he traces upward, nestling the end of his nose along the column of your throat in search of your scent gland. His lungs lock dry and tight as he takes a deep long inhale of the sweet fragrance he’s become infatuated with; nipping at your warm skin, teasing you with the threat of marking you to be his. Threat of taking a chance to easily claim you as his mate. Sharp canines dig in enough to break the skin and leave indentations, staying still for seconds to let your scent flow down and fill his lungs.

Thrill races through your spine, having the Alpha this close to your scent gland. Arching for more movement between your bodies, your nails dig into his sculpted sides scratching down leaving viscous red lines in their wake, encouraging him to leave a mark.

Jeno sucks using more strength, raising blood to the surface on your neck in the pattern of a necklace, one for his hand to latch onto and deepen later.  

“Jeno, c—can’t—” ragged breath lodges between your lungs with his palm returning to constrict your throat, fingers digging into the sides congesting your next inhale. He growls roughly, like shards of glass have ruined his vocal chords. 

“You like that baby?” 

Barely able to nod, your body speaks for you as another glob of slick runs down the Alphas length leaving his balls dripping wet onto the bedding. “Get so wet for me, you get wet like this for anyone else?” 

“You, you Alpha.” You cry, desperately horny enough to say anything he wants at this point. Brought down to nothing but a pile of putty in his ruthless rough hands, willing to hand over your world for him to destroy.

He hums pleased, licking at the sweat blanketing his upper lip and using your throat to push his shoulders up, gawking in awe at the area you’ve drenched between your lower halves. Slick coats his thighs, abdomen shining under soft light reflecting off of him, the bed topper beneath you ruined. “You like me that much?”

He kisses at the backs of his teeth, rutting between your folds without control, losing his breath as he watches the tip of his size reach past your twitching navel with each swipe up. “Fuck, you gonna be good for me? Be a good Omega for Alpha and take it all?”

“Yesyesyes! Be so good, anything—” you blubber, coughing with your thighs clenched around his hips to lure him in. Hands scrabble on his wrist and forearm to loosen his hold on your neck, wheezing for air. “So good for you Alpha, a—anything.”

Jeno grabs a hold of his length, gripping snuggly around the base to calm himself, leisurely dragging his tip between your folds. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

The thick aroused scent emitting off of you only grows heavier with his murmured flattery, a fresh dollop of slick bubbling out and drenching Jeno’s heavy sack. Tears cling to your eyelashes, a watery plead to be fucked echoes out, blurring past the Alphas ears when another waft of your scent spins his head into an alternate universe; mindlessly dipping the tip of his cock past your tight entrance.

“W—want you inside,” you say, fluttering your eyes shut nervously. “Want all of you inside Alpha, wanna be full of your pups.”

Jeno’s chest tightens, grinding his teeth as he inches deeper into your heat. The wet warmth makes the room spin, compressing his lungs in a way that brings him closer to what can only be described as death, and he knows he’s fucked. He’ll never be able to get enough of you after this.

“Feel you s—so deep,” you stammer, sliding a palm down to your navel to rest against the skin that’s begun to distend as the Alpha stills, head drooping between his shoulders to lower his uncontrollable moans. “Wanna feel your cum.. drip out of me.”

Jeno can’t stop himself from shouting, cursing under his breath while throwing back his head. Wet walls clamp around his size, the pressure shooting through his balls to fuck you with a renewed feral urgency. 

Shifting back, the Alpha gazes down between your bodies where you connect, jaw hung loose mesmerized by your cunt refusing to release him. Your walls squeezing, milking his length to your content until he finally sees the tip only to ram forward and fall into a brutal pace.

Hunching forward he bounces you deeper against the bed, exactly where he’d always planned to have his way with you. Fuck you until you cry and beg exactly as you are now. The nonsense and pleasured sounds dripping off your tongue playing like a tune to the rapid volume of flesh meeting flesh. Sharp hips barrel against your thighs, meeting fierce enough to leave bruises in their aftermath. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” Jeno whimpers, pushing his mouth against yours, melting into a messy kiss that’s more drool than lips meeting. Teeth clink together, swallowing shared breaths between failed attempts of locking lips. “How are you this perfect for me?”

The Alphas hands cup under your ass, groping to lift your bottom up and meet his furious speed. Tingles explode throughout your limbs from his praises, searching for refuge in his shoulder to hide the undeniable burn racing across your cheeks.

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” Jeno commands, pressing his nose against your cheek. “My pretty Omega.”

Raspy sweet vocals sing everything you need to hear right now, the constant mine mine mine twisting up your gut. The Alphas thick length works fast, thrusting into you at a spine-breaking pace, lifting your waist up to arch.

“Pl—please, please,” you croak, biting down on Jeno’s shoulder as a blood curdling scream tears through your chest. His cock catches on your entrance with each pull out, wrapping your legs tighter to lock your ankles around his lower back.

“What are you begging for?” the Alpha mouths at your jaw, nipping and licking sweat off your cheek. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” 

Jeno can’t believe what a slut his roommate is, already fucked stupid and still demanding more. Moving to slide his arms under your back, he sets a violent pace. The scream you let out scratching your vocal chords up, urging him to fuck you faster. Fuck you until your heat breaks.

“Yesyesyes! Alpha!”

“God,” he gasps, disoriented. Disbelief of how well you take it rocking his brain side to side. Taking it like you belong to him already. “Made for me, aren’t you baby?” 

He’s fucking into you even faster, harder, every inch meticulously dragging inside of you. The room humid and hot with a combined heat building off your bodies, skin beating against yours all sweaty, sticky, covered in slick.

“Fuck baby, how are you still so f-fucking tight.” Jeno preens, his voice cracking the more you clench around. “Feel too good, feel too damn good..”

Planting you with another sloppy kiss, he straightens back to push your thighs against to chest. Weighing more on your air passage as his hips drop faster, knees bracketed around your distraught face adding to how delirious and lost you feel.

“Al—alpha.. br—..” with a lifeless sigh, you crumble. Angled perfectly to watch his length bury in and out of you. The thick size of his girth spreading your cunt open more than you’ve ever seen, breaking you to never need anyone else. No one would ever come close. “Breed me.”

Jeno’s eyes snap open, his hands squeezing roughly along the backs of your legs. He can’t stop now, not with how you gaze up at him like he’s a God. The hazy stare you focus on him, admiring the man above you so full of list, sending him toppling over the edge. 

Tears, drool, and sweat spill past your lips, huffing empty breathless cries. The Alphas cock burying into you to the brim protruding your stomach out again. His massive size rearranging your insides, erasing the last shred of sanity you had with another roll of his hips.

Incoherent noises break from your parched throat, the most painful and satisfying orgasm ripping through your body, strong enough to leave you feeling brainless. Eyes rolled back as your lower half jerks, squirting aggressively enough for Jeno to nearly break into tears as he stays rooted inside of you against the pressure trying to rip past his length and push him out of the way.

“God damn..”

He fucks you through it, dragging your limp body higher up the bed as he races to completion. A gutted growl slices through the thick air around you, his knot expanding as hot white ropes painting your insides. Teeth gritted as he leans down and lays a pathway of kisses up your chest, licking over your scent gland again, more desperate to bite and have you as his mate.

The Alphas knot continues to stretch you open and grown, instinctively lulling another weak orgasm out of you the more your tight muscle pulls around him. Locked together with half-lidded eyes lazily taking in the afterglow painted over your expressions, the heat subdues enough to at least feel half-awake and process reality for the moment.

“Thank you..”

Jeno smiles, adjusting his arms to loop around your waist and position you both more comfortably on your sides until his knot deflates. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because..” you mumble, tucking in your chin to hide as warmth rushes to your cheeks. “..I wanna be good for you..”

His cock pulsates watching your expression shift to a demure innocent one, stifling a groan by biting on his lip. He nudges your forehead with his nose, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“You are the best for me.”

Jeno’s affirmations reach deep with your heat feeding off the Alphas energy, the ache between your thighs stinging again, punching through your gut. Tightening around his length as he slims down to a normal size.

“Alpha..”

“My baby needs more already?” He smiles softly, pecking away the pout you give him as he maneuvers to slowly pull out of you.

“Come on, present yourself, show me how much you want it. Show me how good you can be for your Alpha.” Jeno says with a hint of cockiness laced through his tone. Slapping your hip enough to sting and have you lazily turning over, hissing as your knees drag on the wet bedding; lowering your chest to shove your ass out with a defined arch in your spine. 

He can’t believe how wrecked your cunt looks already, swollen and coated in his seed. His fingers smear the mess of your mixture up to push more inside of your hole, drawing sad little whines out. “Perfect Omega for me. Mine.”

Sniffling, you nod, swaying your hips for more even if you feel ready to pass out. “Yours.”

The Alpha sits up on his knees, slapping the underside of his length against your rim and slit creating filthy sounds of wetness around you. His cock coats in the remnants of his release and slick that won’t stop flowing out of you. “Fill you up with my pups, like my good Omega deserves.” 

Sheathing back in, he lets out a guttural groan, eyes rolling back as blunt nails dig into your sides. His cock throbs against your swelled walls, wasting no time to fuck and breed you full of cum again and again. The reminder that you belong to him now never failing to sing from his lips release after release with his hands tangled in yours. 

“Mine, meant to be mine.”

The Alphas aroma shifts the air around you before he can settle back into bed, humming as he plops back onto the space next to you.

“You’re not going to believe this but..” Jeno laughs bitterly, nuzzled against your side with his phone in hand. “Mr. Huang emailed about an eviction on the Alpha floor..”

“Hmm? Eviction?” You question lazily. Still drowsy with your nose buried in Jeno’s pillow to quell your heat for a moment.

“Yeah.. looks like I can move out by next week..” he trails off mournfully, clearing his throat as he locks his phone.

“Move out?? What?” those words are enough to have you shooting up to sit, hissing from the way your entire body stings. “Wht?!”

“Uhm, because you want me to move out?” Sitting up on his elbows, he cocks an eyebrow, the one he recently put a slit in that you absolutely hate(love). “Weren’t you just ranting to your friend about how insufferable and disrespectful I am?”

“See, eavesdropping is disrespectful,” rolling your eyes, you lightly smack his tight stomach, returning to cuddle into the Alphas pillow. An instant blanket of calm wraps around your limbs with one inhale as his trademark scent consumes your senses. “Do you want to move?”

“Not really..” Jeno admits, laying back down to meet you at eve-level. “I doubt a new roommate would buy the same great snacks and ramen you always manage to find.”

“Do you see how you’re insufferable?” You tut, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“As long as you’re willing to live with me.. I’d like to stay.” He smiles genuinely, draping an arm around your waist to press closer. “..and maybe see where this goes..”

“This?”

“Us.”

“..when’s your next rut?” 

Jeno cracks into a wide smile at that, tickling up your back to make you curl into yourself and expose your throat for him to kiss and lick.

He may or may not have made all of that up, who knows really. It’s not as if he doesn’t proudly carry the title of being your insufferable Alpha roommate without good reason.

[r0-boat]

Belle x reader x Wise

Headcannons

Shut the fuck up I know it hasn't even been a day! Let me like the two main characters in peace.

Most days the job of Proxy is quite boring. On days like these when there are no commissions and no hollows So all they could do is sit in the video store staring at the door waiting for a customer to come, rent a movie, or a video game. Today it was Belle's turn as their bangboos take the day to charge and while Wise is in the back managing stock at the same time glimpsing at online forms for commissions. However this boring day would take a turn when you walk in to the store. Her eyes light up seeing a familiar face. Shouting your name as she practically tackled you on a hug.

You had no idea about their job as a proxy You were just thought they The cute store managers of the video store that you frequent.

Belle

She tends to be a little clingy with you, she's not afraid to tell you what she wants but with you she finds it difficult to voice her feelings. Then whenever she does she has a bad habit of playing it off as a joke. She doesn't know why she acts like this around you. She knows she cares a lot about you and she knows she loves you she's just having trouble saying it out loud.

For now she's contented with just being by your side (And she doesn't mind getting into people's way when she feels that they are threatening to take you away from her) She knows this feeling of jealousy and possessiveness isn't healthy. But she swears up and down it's just temporary that she will find a way to fully express her feelings to you at some point.

Please play games with her, if you don't play Minecraft with her she will cry. If you want to come to the arcade with her she will definitely join She just wants to play a game with you any game, can even be monopoly.

HER BROTHER IS A BASTARD!!! She had no idea her nasty ass brother sent you a picture of an ugly selfie she sent him!! Only found it out when it became your lock screen. She screamed!!! You said it was cute but if she wanted you to delete it then you would She declined but Wise better sleep with one eye open tonight She knows her brother likes you too, And if he's doing this shit then two can play at that game!

Wise

Trying to be cool around you, He wants you to see him as someone you can trust and lean on for protection. He is quite possessive, overprotective as well. He tries to explain that he's like that to everyone but to be honest not to the extent he is with you. He was the one that suggested to Belle never to reveal their identity as a Proxy to you for your protection. Wise seems to decide what's best for you without consoling or asking you first.

Wise is very inexperienced when it comes to dating any tends to overthink on every little motion you do. From your small smiles to your hair twirls those little things you do have him up at night.

He's not as talkative or as touchy as his sister but he has his quirks, like in the middle of the night sending you pictures or memes with no contacts at all before disappearing for a few hours. He'd rather hang out with you in person then on the phone or online. His favorite are watching movies with you. Whether in the theater or at home. Horror movies so you can cling to him when you're scared, sad romantic movies so he could wipe your pretty tears, anything.

HIS SISTER IS AN ANNOYING LITTLE FUCK. Don't give me wrong he loves her but sometimes he wishes he was an only child. trying to tell you and show you embarrassing moments from their childhood.

[hs-is-loml]

Avoid. (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Summary: blurb! after thinking about something bianca said to you a few days ago, you started to create a small distance from your boyfriend. which of course he noticed.

Warnings: established relationship, self-doubt, the smallest bit of angst, fluff ending

a/n: okay, so i ended up not reading my textbook, and worked on other things instead... but anyways enough about that just remember you are always more than enough<3

masterlist

“You look awfully lonely,” a voice said from beside you. "You mind if I join?"

Your gaze moved from the pavement to a pair of green eyes that you knew far too well.

“I was enjoying a moment of peace actually,” you responded to the boy before you continued to look ahead at the path in front of you that led into the city.

“Moment of peace or are you avoiding me?” Xavier countered with his eyebrows raised giving you a knowing look.

“No, I definitely think it was for a moment of peace,” you replied pausing for a second. “From you…”

“I KNEW IT!”

“You don’t have to be so loud, it’s only us,” you laughed at the boy’s reaction.

“Wait. Why have you been avoiding me? You haven’t even responded to my texts earlier,” Xavier asked with a worried tone.

“I ran into someone a few days ago, and they made me realized something,” you answered wanting to move on from the topic.

“And what did they make you realized?”

“That I shouldn’t get to attached.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” Xavier uttered.

“Xavier, it’s nothing personal,” you lied. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

What really happened was a few days ago Bianca came up to you sprouting thoughts of doubt about your relationship with Xavier throughout your mind. She talked about how this was only temporary for him until he would eventually get bored and come back to her. You knew that wouldn’t actually happen, but it didn’t stop you from creating more distance between you and Xavier for the past few days.

“I think you ignoring me is definitely personal,” he scoffed. “Y/n, it takes two people to be in a relationship.”

“Which two people,” you said under your breathe though he was still able to pick up what you whispered.

“No, seriously, what is your problem with me right now?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” you snapped quickening your pace to walk ahead of him. “You always go back to her don’t you?”

“Who?” Xavier asked in the most utter confusion.

“Bianca.”

“Why would I go back to her? I have you.”

“What if I not enough?” you blurted out stopping in your tracks to turn around and face him.

“You are more enough. You’re all I need,” Xavier walked closer to you.

“I-”

“You are the only person that I want,” he wrapped his arms around you allowing you to lean your head against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do. I shouldn’t have let Bianca have that much power over our relationship,” you admitted. “I was just scared that what if you got bored with being with me?”

“How could I ever get bored? I could stare at you for hours,” he laughed.

“You’re only saying that because you need a model to draw,” you pushed him away laughing.

“I don’t need a model if you’re my muse,” he joked.

“Maybe I was right for avoiding you.” you said walking faster to the city.

“Wait! Hey! NO MORE AVOIDING.”

[mohammedrabah2]

Our Dreams Under the AshesOur Family’s Journey to Hope🥺🇵🇸

My name is Mohammed Al-Deeb, and I write to you with my heavy heart and ask for your help. The recent war in Gaza has shattered my family's lives and left us in unimaginable circumstances. 😔 We were a family of 17 living in peace under one roof, but now we are homeless, struggling to find shelter and settlement. My mother, sisters, children and brother suffer from serious psychological and health problems because of this disaster. We have lost our home and livelihood, and now every day we face uncertainty and fear. 💔

We urgently need your support to find a safe place to live and rebuild our lives. 🏡The situation we're going through is harder than anyone can imagine. My family and I were kicked out of our house a year ago, and we were taken south, leaving behind our memories, friends and all our possessions. Our house was our paradise, and my father was working in a car repair shop under our house, which was also destroyed. Now, everything is lost. 💔

Every contribution, no matter how small, brings us one step closer towards restoring security and hope. 🙏✨

I never imagined that my house would be destroyed and I find myself homeless. It's an indescribable feeling when your dreams are broken, when you don't find something you eat and you can't do anything. Half of us sleep in a tent, and the other half sleeps in the open in the middle of this deadly situation. 😞💔

Our lives are full of fear and destruction as a result of bombing and reckless bullets. Every day, we move from one place to another, and set up temporary nylon and fabric tents just to find a place to sleep. 🏕

Every night, we go to sleep and we don't know if we're going to wake up or die without knowing our fate. The fear of losing my family constantly haunts me. Please, understand our pain and help us 😔

I am also a university student studying engineering. I had big dreams and ambitions, but the war on Gaza destroyed everything I was working for. 😢

I desperately need urgent support to rebuild my academic and professional life. Your help will not be just material support; it will be the light that restores hope and enables me to regain my

future. 🌟

🇵🇸🍉🥺

Please, help me stand up again and continue my journey. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. ❤️🙏

You can see more of my story from the link of my Instagram account 🥹🩵

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for giving my family great hope by supporting our campaign.❤️‍🩹🥺

~ @gaza-evacuation-funds 🌸🤍

~ @nabulsi 🌸🤍

~ @el-shab-hussein 🌸🤍

Post link 🤍

~ @tododeku-or-bust 🌸🤍

Post link 🤍

~ @ibtisams 🌸🤍

Post link

It has been over 11 months since my campaign started, and unfortunately, we have only achieved 1% of our goal. I sincerely ask for your help in promoting my campaign to increase support and reach our targets.

~ @sar-soor 🙏🌸

~ @heba-20 🙏🌸

~ @90-ghost 🙏🌸

~ @i-am-aprl 🙏🌸

~ @northgazaupdates2 🙏🌸

~ @appsa 🙏🌸

‏

And thank you all for what you do for us❤️‍🩹🍉

~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

These are some of my family accounts you can see their story 🙏

~ @raneenrabah1 🌸❤️‍🩹

~ @hanarabah 🌸❤️‍🩹

~ @rawandrabah2 🌸

~ @robarabah 🌸❤️‍🩹

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head. 

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today." 

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you." 

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow." 

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping." 

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos. 

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you. 

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful." 

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower. 

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks. 

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it. 

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously. 

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me." 

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh. 

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently. 

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep. 

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly. 

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne." 

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General. 

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants. 

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?" 

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg. 

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened. 

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly." 

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek. 

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?" 

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up." 

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise. 

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers? 

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan. 

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.  

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say. 

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again. 

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying. 

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say. 

"He sounds like you." 

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle. 

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists. 

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of. 

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry." 

"You think so?" you ask. 

"I think the solution is the same, too." 

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry." 

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean. 

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question). 

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in. 

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms? 

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more. 

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably. 

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm. 

You hesitate. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?" 

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts. 

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately. 

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you. 

"Are you sure?" 

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever." 

"What do you think?" you ask softly. 

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious. 

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days." 

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?" 

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?" 

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast." 

"I can wait." 

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?" 

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again." 

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me." 

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork. 

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air. 

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it. 

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough. 

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird." 

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it." 

"It's a mess?" you ask. 

"It's perfect." 

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully. 

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing. 

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips. 

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly. 

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me." 

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more. 

"He's… I'm just not…" 

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth." 

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble. 

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–" 

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face. 

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind." 

"But he is perfect," you say. 

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–" 

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion." 

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek. 

"My dork," you murmur. 

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey." 

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility." 

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss. 

"I love you," you say. 

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too." 

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

[daisynik7]

“freak-a-leek” by petey pablo for a jean and eren threesome if that’s okay plz

Freek-A-Leak

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Jean Kirstein

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.9k

cw: modern setting au, explicit language, p*rn w/no plot, smut – threesome, PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, blowjob, sex toy use, masturbation, cum-eating, dirty talk, sex without a condom, pet names (baby, sweetheart), reader has multiple orgasms, creampies, just some overall smutty silliness

Summary: You’re on a business trip with the two cockiest salesmen in your department: Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein. After a long day of dealing with them clashing over the silliest things, you decide to unwind in your hotel room the best way you know how. 

Author’s Note: This is the last song on the y2k karaoke party playlist! Thank you so much for the request anon! I had fun with this! It’s all horny and just plain silly, so I hope you like it. Thank you so much for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune. 

It’s almost 10 PM when you finally make it back to your hotel room, completely spent from today’s activities. It’s the first day of the conference here in Marley and being stuck in the middle of Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein has proven to be much more exhausting than you anticipated. 

You’re not completely convinced you needed to come on this business trip with them. After all, they’re the top two salesmen in your department, and this conference is solely for selling your product to new customers. Your boss, Hangë, encouraged you, the lead design engineer, to tag along in case they needed any technical support while demonstrating the ODM equipment. You were reluctant at first, but when they emphasized the fact that this trip would be completely paid for, including the lodging and food, how could you refuse? 

Unfortunately for you, because of the two clashing personalities between Jean and Eren, you ended up playing mediator throughout the day rather than engineer. The two bickered as usual, from where to eat, to what side of the table they wanted to stand on. In front of the customers, they were professional and charismatic, no hint of animosity lingering around them. As soon as it was the three of you alone, it was nonstop arguing and snide remarks, with you doing your best to either ignore it or alleviate it until the next fight arose. 

Luckily for you, Hangë set you up with your own room at the hotel while the other two shared the one right beside you. There’s an adjoining door for easy access into each other’s space and Jean begs you to open it when you first check in, not wanting a single moment alone with his temporary roommate. But after today’s festivities, you’re desperate for some private time by yourself.

Jean steps into your room, leaning against the doorframe. “So, should we watch a movie?” he suggests, still in his dress shirt, tie loosened around his collar.

Eren appears behind him, on his tip-toes to get your attention. “Why don’t we play video games instead?”

You yawn, shooing them away. “I’m exhausted, so I’m going to sleep.” 

You try to shut the door on them, but Jean pushes back, persistent. “You’re not seriously going to leave me alone with him, are you?” He points his thumb to the man behind him. 

Eren scoffs. “I don’t want to be alone with you either!”

“Dude, you are breathing down my neck! Give me some space.”

“Then move so I can talk to her!”

“It’s not your turn to talk!”

“Guys!” you yell, losing your patience. “I am tired. Try to get along so we can all get some sleep. Please?”

They grumble to themselves, shoving elbows at each other before they finally leave you alone, closing the door to give you your peace. You don’t bother locking in, certain they won’t be bothering you the rest of the night. 

After a nice, hot shower, you get comfortable in your pajamas, rummaging through one of your pouches until you find what you’re looking for. After a long day with those two goofballs, the best way for you to relieve stress is to have a little playtime. You carry your vibrator with you to bed, one ear bud in, and your favorite naughty audio ready to play on your phone. Only five minutes in, with the fluttering tip pressed to your clit, it doesn’t take long for you to orgasm. Ready for another, you get distracted by the muffled voices of your neighbors, bickering once again. You pop your ear bud out, trying to hear whatever dumb topic they’re arguing about now. The toy is still vibrating in your hands, the tip wet with your arousal. You let your imagination wander, thinking of Jean and Eren just on the other side of the wall. Hot, heated, raring to go. Fantasizing about the nasty, filthy things they could do to you if they knew just how horny you are, pent up with sexual frustration from all the testosterone you were surrounded with today. 

Suddenly, the door swings open and Eren stomps into the room, shouting your name. “Who do you find more annoying, me or him?!” Jean follows right on his tail, trying to grab him by the collar of his undershirt, hissing, “She’s sleeping, you dumbass!” They stop in their tracks, staring wide-eyed at you with your legs spread open on the bed, blanket shrugged off, vibrator buzzing in your hand. Completely exposed.

You quickly pull the covers over you, hiding the toy beneath your pillow, mortified. “What the fuck?!” you yell out to them. 

Both of them gape at you, blushing all the way down to their necks, speechless for the first time all day. Their silence is louder than any squabbling they’ve done today, and you have no idea what to say to make this any less awkward than it already is. 

Before you can think of another response, Eren clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey Jean. Bet I can make her come harder than you can.”

Jean glances at him, hesitant at first, then relaxes into a smirk. “Oh yeah? You’re on.”

Eren steps towards the bed, grinning at you. “What do you say? Will you help us?” 

You stare at them, befuddled and also extremely intrigued by this offer. Deciding quickly, you nod at them, releasing the grip on the blanket. They both smile at you, putting a flutter in your belly. Eren laughs, tugging on the covers slowly. “Come on. You can’t hide from us now.”

Jean joins in, dragging it down your body until you’re on display again, pussy glistening from your first orgasm. They both swear under their breaths, Eren licking his lips while Jean bites his. “Fuck, did you already come?”

“Yeah, I did,” you answer, pussy aching to be touched by either one of them. Both of them.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Eren says, inching towards you. “You’re extra juicy for me, huh?”

“Why do you get to go first?” Jean butts in, scowling. 

Eren positions himself at your arousal, his breath hot on your pussy as he replies, “I don’t want to lick your spit.”

“Well, I don’t want to lick yours either! Let me goes first.”

“Fuck you, I’m already here.”

“Then move!” 

“Guys!” you cry out, bucking your hips, desperate for anything at this point. “Just hurry up and touch me. Please.”

Eren sticks his tongue out. “You heard her,” he muffles, licking circles around your clit. “Let’s make our girl feel good.”

Jean swallows hard, positioning himself beside you, puckering his lips around your nipples and sucking. You moan, arching your back off the bed, running your fingers through his hair. “Feels so good,” you whine, feeding your other breast to him. He latches on immediately, pulling your teat between his lips while Eren laps at your puffy clit. With your free hand, you grab hold of his hair, gripping it to pull him deeper into your cunt. Soon, you’re gushing on his face, rutting your hips against him while he swallows every drop of you. 

“Fuck, you taste good,” Eren says, tongue prodding into your slit. 

“I want a taste too,” Jean mutters, giving your nipple one last hard suck before he releases you with a wet pop. 

“Not yet,” Eren murmurs, kissing the soft plush of your thighs. 

Jean crawls to where he is, shoving him slightly to stick his face into your pussy. “It’s my turn, jackass.” He laps at your clit, determined to be better than his rival. 

Eren laughs, collecting your slick slathered on his chin and lips with his fingers, licking it off. “Be honest, baby. Is he doing better than me?” He strips out of his bottoms, lying beside you, stroking his hard cock. 

You squeeze your thighs around Jean’s head, bucking into his mouth, already close to your third climax. Your eyes go from Eren’s fist jerking himself off to Jean’s face shaking between your legs, eating you out feverishly. He teases a finger inside you and when you flutter around it, he slides in all the way, adding a second.

“No fair,” Eren breathes out, stroking himself faster.

Jean chuckles against your skin, sucking on your clit while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You turn your head to face Eren, leaning towards him to kiss him sloppily. He cradles your cheek with his free hand, pulling you in deeper, tongue swirling around yours, slurping up your spit. Once again, you’re pushed over the edge, coming on Jean’s face this time, his nose pressed to your sensitive bud as he drinks up all the slick leaking out of you. 

“Fuck me,” you beg, not directing it to anyone in particular.

Eren smiles against your mouth, licking your drool off the corners of your lips. “Go ahead, Jean. You can go first.”

Jean shoves his pants down, releasing his stiff cock, palming it. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says, kneeling next to your head, tracing your lips with the tip of his cock. “We’re having way too much fun right here, aren’t we sweetheart?” You nod in response, moaning around his dick as you sink your mouth on it, swallowing it until it’s to the back of your throat. “Fuck, you take it so good. You wanted to get fucked like this tonight, huh? Wanted to show us what a freak you are.”

Jean slides his cock inside you, stretching you out until he bottoms out. He spreads your legs apart, holding you open so he can pound straight into you. Eren’s focus goes from his own pleasure to his friend thrusting. “Fuck her harder, Jean.”

He obeys, picking up the pace, shoving himself deeper. You choke on your own moans, pulling off Eren to catch your breath. He cradles your face in his hands, massaging your cheeks tenderly. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Take a break. Just enjoy getting fucked by this fat cock.”

“Fuck,” Jean growls, closing his eyes. “I’m so close.”

Eren licks his lips, watching. “Don’t pull out. Fill her up.”

At that, Jean loses it, spurting his hot load inside you, your pussy fluttering around him. He pulls out, switching spots with Eren, snuggling up next to you to kiss you softly. You smile at him, whispering, “Thank you.”

He plants a smooch on your nose. “Thank you, baby.”

“Hey, don’t forget about me,” Eren says, guiding his hard cock inside you. “I’m going to fuck all this cum right back inside this cunt.”

You and Jean both moan, watching him fuck you with a devilish grin on his face. Jean reaches under the pillow, retrieving the toy you used earlier. “Can I use this on you?”

Incoherent and fucked out, you nod, desperate for whatever it is they want to offer to you. He presses the button, making the vibrator buzz in his grip, pressing the fluttering tip to your clit while Eren continues to ravish you. His eyes widen when he sees what Jean’s doing. “Oh shit. She’s squeezing me so fucking tight.” 

You’re in a drunken daze, trembling all over your body from the pleasure, whimpering uncontrollably with Jean toying with your clit as Eren fucks your brains out. When you reach your final climax, Eren comes with you, burying his cum deep inside your womb. You’re stuffed to the brim with both their loads, feeling exhausted and euphoric. 

Eren pulls out, cuddling up to your other side, kissing your forehead. Jean sets the vibrator aside, spooning you from the back. You relax in their arms, actually happy to be stuck in the middle of them for once.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Eren asks jokingly, “So…who won?”

“Obviously me,” Jean grins, kissing your neck.

You laugh, snuggling closer to the both of them. “I think I’m the real winner here.”

[hoasvuon]

(5:41 PM)

when bf!beomgyu had told you his new job was work from home, you imaged lazy mornings together, and maybe even a few spontaneous lunch dates. you didn't really consider that he the extent of which he would really be working! from home.

it was 5:41 pm and you had come over to beomgyu's apartment after a long day at work, hoping for some cuddles with your boyfriend before going on a dinner adventure. however, the sight that greeted you was, unfortunately, not your loving boyfriend waiting at the door with arms wide open to greet you. entering the living room, you found beomgyu hunched over his desk, surrounded by a mountain of papers and lit up by the glow of his monitor screen. walking over to his figure, you dropped your bag to the ground before leaning your head on his, the messy hair on his head tickling your chin.

"hey," you said softly, hoping for a quick kiss back, or just an acknowledgement of your presence.

"hey," he replied, barely lifting his eyes from the screen. "i just need to finish this up. it won't be much longer, i promise."

wanting to be understanding, you decided not to disturb him further. "no worries. take your time. i'll just be in the bedroom if you need anything, let me know when you finish up." as much as you wanted to talk to him, you realized that it would be best to leave him in the office and take a short nap in the bedroom while you waited for him to be done.

he nodded, appreciating your understanding. "thanks, baby, love you"

the bedroom offered a temporary escape from the office-like atmosphere in the living room. lauing down on the bed, closed your eyes, and tried to relax. however, an unexpected realization dawned upon you: beomgyu's headpats were an essential ingredient for your nap recipe.

with a sigh, you padded back into the living room, your fluffy socks barely masking the soft footsteps on the wooden floor, where beomgyu was still engrossed in his work. "hey, gyu, mind if I join you for a bit?" you asked quietly.

he looked up at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "of course not. come here."

pulling one of the dining room chairs with you, uou settled next to him, and without a word, beomgyu's hand found its way to your hair. his gentle fingers began to trace soothing patterns on your scalp, and the comforting rhythm soon lulled you into a sense of peace.

"better?" he whispered, his voice a mere murmur.

"mmm, much better," you replied, your eyes fluttering closed. "you give the best headpats, gyu."

he chuckled, the sound warm and affectionate, before turning to leave a kiss on the top of your head. "of course, it's a specialty of mine, just for my princess. just close your eyes and get some rest. i'll be done soon, and then we can spend the evening together, just like we planned this morning."

as beomgyu continued his work, his fingers drawing small patterns in your hair. and as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, you thought to yourself: how lucky were you to be able to love this boy made of nothing but kindess and stardust. your precious stardust boy.

[keehomania]

Mark with big tits reader was craaazyy good 😵‍💫 what about mark with insecure reader bc she has tiny bitty titty (me)✌️

this is not a love story — mark lee (마크 리)

✧ WC: 15.8K

✧ SYN: you’ve never known love, no matter how much you believed you did. maybe it was never fated for you to cross paths, maybe it was never really there.

✧*. 18+

if there was anything you refused to allow yourself to believe in, it was a happy ending. taking things for granted seemed to come easy for humans, you thought. or rather, you knew, because you were a part of the majority. times were simpler when you were blissfully unaware. back then, you were just blissful, unaware of just how complicated life would get after those trial years.

you got your happy ending, you lived it until you turned fourteen, ready for a cruel beginning. it was easy to take the simple things for granted, and if you could turn back time, the first thing you would do is make sure to cherish it all. cherish staying up an hour past your bedtime, cuddled up with your mother, watching whatever show she had turned on. you didn’t care at the time, you didn't care for her midday soap operas or her nightly detective shows, but it was different now. now, you would give anything to watch just one more episode, curled up in her lap. you would give anything to get up early and get ready for school with your mother’s makeup, even though you hated going. you would give anything to watch cinderella one more time, to believe that happy endings really did exist.

your makeshift happy ending came to its final act when you turned fifteen. you had moved from busan to seoul just a few years back, and you were unable to adapt. a new school, new friends and a new way of life was awaitng you, but you had no idea how to make peace with it. it wasn’t too hard the first few years, all you had to do was keep to yourself. the thought of it was what kept you away from the other students, away from their cliques and personal politics, kept your grades steady and you to yourself. you were never in the eye of the storm, nobody had a reason to pick on you. like many other things, you had taken the peace for granted.

most of it started when you were fifteen, your own hormones teaming up against you. nothing had changed—not the silence, not the way those around you acted. nothing changed except your approach; you felt insignificant, like nothing you said or did mattered. you noticed the attention fall on the other girls from your class, the way nearly every boy was fond of them, showered them with praise. everything you had deemed irrelevant before had come back and hit you like a ton of bricks. why did nobody bother to give you that kind of attention? were you that ugly? was puberty doing everybody but you justice?

those kind of thoughts had started to flood your mind, seeping into every crack and crevice of your attention and ultimately stealing it from the things that really mattered. you started to focus more on your physical appearance, waking up an hour too early just to touch yourself up. you wanted to turn yourself into someone you knew you weren’t, to live somebody else's life just to feel better about yourself. everybody questioned the sudden change, no matter how little of important you deemed yourself. why was your hair straightened? had your lashes grown overnight? what was with the skimpy clothes? in a way, it was effective. more people had started talking to you, even if it was small talk. it made you feel good, but you knew you could do better.

you had traded what would later be a piece of your soul in exchange for temporary security. you entered your first real relationship that same year—it wasn’t real, it lasted five months. to a fifteen year-old girl with less than no experience, it was real. it was real when you held hands, kissed, when you lied to your parents to see him—even if it was for just twenty minutes, when he made you feel like you were the most important girl in the world. it was just as real to you when you had started smoking, drinking, doing all the things you swore not to do with him. it didn’t count if it was with him, right?

it became real when reality hit you like a physical blow to your stomach. ultimately, you had lost your virginity to him in a way that was so sudden, you knew in your head that it wasn’t love, but you weren’t thinking with your head. not when you wore your heart on your sleeve so proudly. it didn’t seem like a big deal to you, you didn’t even like it all that much. you just wanted to feel the love you so badly chased after, even if it only lasted five minutes. you told your friend all about it the next day, but you were so worked up and eager to share the news that you had forgotten just how much the kids your aged liked to blabber, and it was exactly what he did. you didn’t realize just how fast the news had spread, you didn’t register the dirty looks and condescending stares for a good while, until you had to.

the news of your distasteful encounter had reached the staff. the principal, the secretary, and the guidance counselor. when you were called into her office, you didn't know what it was you were expecting. the office itself put you off—white, sleek walls, a tidy desk, three chairs alligned perfectly to the side, and the sharp, pungent stench of medical supplies. everything about it made your stomach twist with fear, even though you didn’t know what it was that you were so afraid of. the silence only put you off further, but then, she finally cut through it. the sole start was just to ask you basic questions—how were you doing? have you been experiencing any issues lately? what was your life like at home, any concerns? it was meant to make you comfortable, to spread your soul open and go after its most tainted parts, but it only made you more queasy.

you wished the small talk had lasted longer, because you were absolutely unprepared for what followed. when she asked you if it was true that you had lost your virginity, you felt your world turn upside down. you were sure she had seen the way your face paled and heard the way your heart thumped in your ears, you were positive. your throat had started to close up and your lips grew chapped, no matter how many times you ran your tongue over them. in the end, you had to admit it, there was absolutely no way out of it. you had finished your confession with what worried you the most, begging her to honor the counselor code and to keep your parents uninformed. she promised to keep it a secret, but never intended on taking it to her grave.

in all fairness, you were fifteen. it wasn’t morally right to lie to you, but lying to your parents about such a situation would've been even worse. your mother threw a fit, broke down in the worst way possible and cried herself to sleep three nights in a row. your father had shut down—he was never mad, he was just disappointed. your mother had gone off like a time bomb waiting to explode, and she finally did. she exploded in a way that made you feel like you were the epitome of everything wrong with the world, and in a way that made her feel like she was the reason for it. you had blamed her for taking advantage of your future for so long, for forcing you to move with her just because she wanted to—because she longed for her city even if you liked yours better. you didn't think you resented her for it, even though she knew you did. she made peace with it, with the fact that you had both found a way to put a strain on your relationship.

your boyfriend was the first to break things off with you, even though you were the one instructed to do so. you had no intention of doing it, telling him all about what happened and his response being something generic and typical for a boy his age—you’d find a way out of it, he'd stay by your side, he’d wait as long as possible for you. you didn’t know it then but when you looked back at it, you felt like a fool. none of his promises were fulfilled, and you were left with a void in your heart for the first time in your life. it was a void you had filled with cheap cigarettes, shots of groccery store tequila, red hair dye and an absolute punch to your youth.

you were sixteen by then, and you had lost any and all touch with reality. the void in your soul was blocked by going to parties you swore you would never come across, befriending the hosts even though you knew they were shitty people, expanding your circle of friends you knew hated you deep down—but you didn’t care. it was a phase that took a toll on you and your reputation. during that phase, you had gotten yourself entangled in two more relationships. they were short-lived, shorter than your first one, but you didn’t wanna be alone. if you weren't with your friends or drinking, you wanted to feel loved. even if you knew it was temporary. you had given yourself up two more times to feel the love you thought you deserved, even though it wasn’t love. it didn’t faze you until people started talking about it, again.

this would happen four more times. four more times would you give yourself up to four different people you thought loved you. maybe some of them did, you didn’t know anymore. you had stopped believing in it a long time ago, you had stopped chasing the happy ending you thought awaited you. maybe you struggles weren’t all for nothing, you hoped, maybe the sun was hidden behind the clouds, but it wasn't. the sun had fallen and it was dark, and your only source of light was what was familiar. it wasn’t a good kind of familiar, no matter how useful the light seemed. it was a blinding kind of light and it, too, would succumb to the darkness at some point.

the cycle repeated itself four times, but you were too numb to realize just how bad it had gotten. the only time you had fallen in love during the whole ordeal was with the fourth guy. you were seventeen at the time, and he was a year younger than you. anybody listening would’ve assumed it was your shot at a happy ending, that it was everything you’ve ever wanted, and it almost was. almost. you were out with your friend and her boyfriend, and he had insisted on going to one of the many bars in town, but your friend was reluctant. you had been texting a guy at the time and, though it was rather casual, he happened to be in the same bar. it was the only reason you agreed, promising her you’d be there for just a bit. the guy you had been texting wasn’t too eager to see you, thinking it was too soon, but it all changed when you walked in. as corny as it was, it was the truth. he hadn’t expected you to be so pretty, so charming and so gentle with him. you barely noticed him at first—when you walked into the bar, the first thing you felt was the stench of medical equipment in the bathroom assaulting your nostrils.

despite the rough start, it was a relationship that blossomed into something that was as beautiful as a foxglove. it came in different shades, patterns and shapes, but it was beautiful. it was beautiful when you took a glance at it, even a good stare. it was beautiful when you embraced it, even for a long while, but it was just as deadly if you held onto it for too long. that was exactly what you did. you held onto it until you had nothing to hold onto anymore, until the stem had snapped and the petals danced in the air. the petals were all that was left, but even they showed no mercy. he had broken it off after six months, claiming to have done it because you were dishonest with him about how many people you had slept with prior to him, but you knew that it wasn't true. you knew he had just gotten bored of you.

your breaking point came just after, and you grieved him far longer than you should have. eight months proceeding the split had been spent drinking, pondering and making a fool out of yourself—all because of a man. it made you spiral, shift and it was the sole reason you fell apart. nothing mattered anymore, not even the people that made it their mission to turn your the intimate details about your life into a public spectacle. you let yourself fall apart with nothing to catch you but your own too arms, and even they weren’t enough to carry the weight of your burdens. had you ever known love? what was the point of feeling the warmth of a home if it was built with cards? you hadn’t known love, and you were sure you never would.

you started to take yourself seriously when you turned eighteen. the people hated you, all the people your age. they all knew you based on the mistakes you had made, the most intricate details of your life that you prayed would never come to light, and the poor decisions on your behalf. your name had become such a taboo topic that you had detached yourself from the rest of the city. you spent a summer away in japan with your uncle, searching for a way to put your mind at ease. upon coming back, you were quick and pleased to discover that everybody had forgotten about you. you were no longer relevant, your scandals were no longer interesting to talk about. it was something that one of your exes, kim dongyoung, assured you that it was as if people has forgotten about you entirely. despite having a rough split with him, one that was entirely your fault, you remained friends with him, and he was good to you.

your final year of high school came to a peaceful and successful close. all of your time was devoted to your classes and extracurriculars, and nobody said a word about it. you had assumed tens of thousands of derogatory words would roll off their tongues, at least behind your back, but there was nothing. once again, you didn't matter, and you couldn't have been happier about it. you graduated as best as you could, and absolutely everything had changed, but you didn’t feel at ease. you didn't feel like you would get your happy ending, no matter how well you were doing.

the pressure that once felt distant was now inescapable, crushing you under its weight. you thought the relief would come after graduation, that somehow this looming sense of duty would evaporate as you took the next logical step—studying law, following in the footsteps your family had silently mapped out for you. but instead, the silence from everyone around you only added to your disquiet. the silence wasn’t praise, it wasn’t encouragement, it was indifference. you had worked so hard for nothing more than a polite smile, a generic “congratulations.” no one cared.

that was when the contract came in—a modeling gig, of all things. It was meant to be temporary, a short detour from the expected path. you figured it would be easy. why wouldn’t it be? pose for a few pictures, walk down a runway. In and out, no mess. you’d take some time, maybe earn a little money before heading to law school like you had always planned. you signed your name on the dotted line, not fully realizing what it meant. suddenly, you were in it—korea’s newest face, the nation’s ‘princess.’ the transformation wasn’t gradual; it was like waking up in someone else’s body. one minute you were a student, scandalous, spat on. the next, you were everywhere. billboards, magazines, flashing cameras. thhe whole country seemed to know your name, and for the first time, you felt like you existed.

but existence always came at a price. at first, it was small sacrifices. a skipped meal here, an extra workout there. you told yourself it was temporary, just until the next shoot, just until the next campaign. soon, celery and ice cubes became your daily staples, the only things you allowed yourself to consume. the emptiness inside you wasn’t just hunger anymore—it was something deeper, more insidious. your reflection in the mirror grew sharper, more defined, as if every pound you shed stripped away another layer of who you used to be.

the people around you noticed the changes, but not in the way you expected. the criticisms came, not from the people who mattered to you, but from strangers. overweight men with sagging bellies, women who would never fit into the clothes you wore—they all felt entitled to say something. a comment about your posture, the way your hips didn’t quite match their idea of perfection, how your eyes looked too tired. their words clung to you like grease, seeping into every pore until you began to believe them. but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. the insults only fueled you, driving you to work harder, push further, just to prove them wrong.

there were moments when you wanted to quit, when the exhaustion from endless workouts and starvation weighed you down so heavily that you felt your bones might snap under the strain. there were nights when you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you had made the right choice, if modeling had been easier than law—or if this was just another cage, more gilded but no less suffocating. yet, despite it all, something began to shift. it started with the way people looked at you. at first, you didn’t notice. you were too busy hiding your exhaustion behind perfect makeup, too focused on pretending that everything was fine. but then, you began to see it—the looks that weren’t pitying, weren’t dismissive. people weren’t looking at you like they used to, with that thin layer of contempt, the way they had in school. it wasn’t hatred anymore. this time, when they looked at you, it was admiration.

the way their eyes lingered on you wasn’t like before. It was different—soft, almost reverent. you could feel it in the way they stood a little straighter when you walked into a room, the way conversations quieted, as if your mere presence demanded attention. you started to recognize that look. it was the one you had given others, the untouchable, the perfect. they didn’t see you as human anymore, but as something beyond that. they saw perfection, or the closest thing to it that they could grasp.

it felt good. addictively good. the power that came with their admiration, their respect, it washed over you like a warm current, and you couldn’t deny how much you craved it. it filled the hollow places inside you that no amount of food or rest could fix. you had always wanted to be seen, to matter, and now you did. it didn’t matter if you were starving. it didn’t matter if you felt like you were falling apart behind the scenes. as long as they looked at you like that, it was worth it, wasn’t it? you had become korea’s ‘princess,’ but deep down, you knew. the crown was heavy, and it wasn’t yours to keep forever. you just didn’t know how long you could carry it.

the studio was a cavernous space, its high ceilings disappearing into soft shadows cast by the industrial lighting rigged above. a haze of white light bathed the room, diffusing over every surface, amplifying the sharpness of the scene in front of you. rows of expensive cameras clicked in perfect rhythm, each shutter a drumbeat to your performance. the set was minimal—sleek, modern, monochrome—a backdrop of muted grays and blacks that made your crimson gown blaze like fire.

you were the centerpiece, draped in a figure-hugging satin dress that pooled dramatically around your feet. the fabric clung to every curve, shimmering under the lights with every subtle movement. a slit ran high up your thigh, a calculated element of the designer’s vision. the neckline dipped just enough to tease, but not to scandalize. everything was deliberate, down to the last stitch. you had become a canvas, an embodiment of elegance, allure, and untouchable sophistication.

“alright, beautiful, chin up. yes, just like that,” the photographer’s voice echoed, smooth and precise. his name was han minseok, and he had a reputation for bringing out the best in his models. his praise came easy, but you knew better than to let it sink in too deep. you held your pose, lifting your chin slightly, eyes half-lidded as you stared down the lens with calculated indifference. “perfect, darling,” minseok murmured. the camera clicked again, rapid-fire. “you’re nailing it. hold it right there—perfect!”

your manager, jeong jaehyun, stood off to the side, arms crossed, observing the shoot with an approving smile. his eyes followed every movement you made, calculating, critiquing, but also proud. he knew how to push you, knew exactly how far you could go before breaking. and today, you were flawless. you could feel his approval radiating from him without him needing to say a word. you shifted your weight slightly, allowing the dress to catch the light in a new way. the faintest smirk tugged at your lips—a hint of danger, a whisper of seduction. you manqged to embody the theme of the shoot effortlessly. minseok lowered the camera, grinning wide. “that’s a wrap. fantastic work as always.”

jaehyun approached you, his smile soft but pleased. he handed you a bottle of water, and you accepted it with a gracious nod, twisting the cap off to take a slow sip. the cold liquid hit your parched throat, refreshing but momentarily distracting. when you looked back at him, you noticed it—the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes today. there was a sadness, a shadow lingering behind his usually confident demeanor. “jaehyun,” you said softly, eyebrows furrowing. “what’s wrong?”

his smile wavered. “sit down for a second,” he said, gesturing toward one of the nearby makeup chairs. your heart skipped a beat, a subtle prickle of worry crawling up your spine. you did as he asked, sitting gingerly, suddenly aware of the hum of the studio around you—the muffled conversations, the clinking of equipment being packed away, the janitor scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the floor in the corner. the sharp smell of cleaning chemicals stung your nostrils, cutting through the faint scent of hairspray still lingering in the air. you tried to ignore it, forcing your attention back to jaehyun.

“what’s going on?” you asked, your voice low and uneasy. he hesitated, a brief flicker of discomfort crossing his features before he spoke. “i’m being relocated. back to connecticut. it’s for a while—maybe a few months.”

you blinked, the words sinking in like a slow, cold weight. “what?” your voice came out quieter than you intended. he saw the look on your face, and he immediately stepped forward, taking your hands into his, his grip firm but comforting. “i’ll be back,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “you’ll be fine, better than fine. you’re doing better than ever.”

the disappointment hit you like a punch to the chest, sharp and unexpected. “i can’t do it without you,” you whispered, your voice almost breaking. he shook his head, his expression softening even more. “it’s not me, it’s you. i’m the one who can’t do this without you.”

his words should have been comforting, but they only deepened the sense of dread coiling in your stomach. jaehyun had been with you since the beginning, guiding you through every high and low, through every mistake and every victory. the thought of him not being there, even for a little while, made the ground beneath your feet feel unsteady. he paused for a moment, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles before he continued. “you’ll have someone new. a friend of mine, just as experienced as me. i trust him completely.” you frowned, skeptical. “who?”

“you’ll meet him tonight,” he said, offering a small smile. “the whole team is going out for drinks, and he’ll be there.” you nodded, though the knot of anxiety in your chest tightened. even with his reassurances, the idea of working with someone new didn’t sit well with you. the trust you had in him wasn’t something that could be replaced so easily. sensing your unease, jaehyun leaned down, wrapping you in a hug. his arms were warm, familiar, grounding. “you’ll always be a star,” he murmured against your ear, his voice low and comforting. “with or without me.”

you hated how much those words hurt. hated how much you had allowed yourself to rely on him. it wasn’t supposed to be this way. you weren’t supposed to get attached—not to anyone. but history had a cruel way of repeating itself, didn’t it? all you ever did was get attached. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything, so you nodded silently, letting him hold you for a moment longer before he pulled away, his hand squeezing yours one last time. he gave you a final smile—sad, but reassuring—before he turned and walked toward the door, leaving you alone with the weight of his absence already settling over you, even if he hadn’t left you yet. they all left, why was it so shocking that his turn had come?

your apartment was a modern contradiction—beautiful, sleek, but hollow. the wide windows let in a gentle glow from the streetlights outside, casting long shadows against the pristine white walls. it was elegant, like something out of a design magazine, all clean lines and expensive furniture. the kind of place that should have felt like home but never quite did. every corner was curated, from the marble countertops to the velvet sectional sofa that sat untouched most days. everything looked perfect, yet the emptiness inside you felt sharper here, in this space that was too big for just one person.

your parents hadn’t been to your apartment, hadn’t seen this life you had built for yourself. not that they cared to. you hadn’t spoken to them in months, not since they’d made it clear that your choice to model, rather than pursue law, was unforgivable. their silence hung over you like a cloud, heavy and oppressive, yet familiar. you were used to being left behind. your father’s words still echoed in your head, dismissive and final, “you’re wasting your potential.” your mother hadn’t said anything at all—her disapproval was cold, passive, like she had washed her hands of you.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, hands delicately applying makeup with a precision you had perfected over the years. the foundation smoothed over your skin, covering every flaw, creating the illusion of perfection you’d mastered long ago. the emptiness in your chest collided with the fullness of your apartment—so much space, so little meaning. it felt like you had filled your life with things, with a career that demanded all of you, and yet somehow you remained empty inside, hollowed out by the silence from the people who should have cared the most. your hands moved almost mechanically as you styled your hair, pulling it into loose waves that fell over your shoulders in soft, effortless curls. your outfit for the night was simple but striking—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugged your frame, the fabric slinking around your body like it was made for you. it was elegant, understated, but you knew it would turn heads. you always turned heads.

as you stepped out of your apartment and into the waiting car, you felt a strange sense of detachment. the city lights blurred outside the tinted windows, a constant stream of life and movement, yet you felt removed from it all. the car ride to the bar was short, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach twisted tighter with each passing minute. you weren’t sure what tonight would bring, but something told you things were about to change. jaehyun was supposed to meet you, introduce you to your new manager. the thought made you feel uneasy.

when the car pulled up to the bar, you were immediately greeted by the flash of cameras. it never ceased to unnerve you, the sudden explosion of light, the shouts from photographers who called your name like they knew you. you squinted against the brightness, stepping out of the car as gracefully as you could manage, though the onslaught of attention left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. you half-expected jaehyun to come out and handle the situation, to shield you like he always did, but he didn’t. the door to the bar opened, and for a brief moment, you thought it was him. but it wasn’t.

instead, a man appeared, a bit shorter than jaehyun but striking in his own way. he wore a leather jacket rather than jaehyun’s usual denim, the dark material catching the light in a way that made him look almost dangerous. his jawline was sharper, more distinct, and his dark hair was swept down in front, framing his forehead. his eyes met yours, and there was something in the way he looked at you—something unreadable, intense. he didn’t say a word as he approached, discarding his jacket and spreading it open to shield you from the cameras. his movements were smooth, confident, as he draped the jacket over your shoulders and guided you inside. the warmth of the leather was a stark contrast to the cold, clinical detachment you’d felt all evening.

“who are you?” you asked, your voice soft but firm, laced with confusion. his eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze steady, unreadable. “mark lee,” he said, his tone calm, measured. he paused, and for a moment, you thought he might say more, but instead, he let the silence hang between you. then, as if deciding to answer the question you hadn’t asked, he added, “i’m your new manager. didn’t jaehyun tell you?”

your heart sank slightly, the pieces falling into place—he was the one jaehyun had spoken about. mark studied your face as though he were trying to read you, to understand something you hadn’t yet said. a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, almost amused by your reaction. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said softly. you blinked, unsure of how to respond. the words you spoke felt disconnected from the thoughts in your mind. “the pleasure’s all mine,” you mumbled, though the uncertainty in your voice betrayed you.

mark’s gaze lingered a second longer before he turned, leading you further inside, away from the flashes of the cameras. the air inside the bar was warmer, thick with the chatter of people and the clinking of glasses, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had settled in your chest. even as he guided you to a table, the leather of his jacket still draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was shifting beneath your feet. and you weren’t sure you liked it.

the bar was vaguely lit, the low hum of conversation blending with the soft clink of glasses. a few members of the team were already gathered around a table near the back, the familiar faces of the makeup artist, the stylist, and the photographer who had been on set earlier. they greeted you with warm smiles and the easy familiarity of people who had spent long hours together under bright studio lights. it was strange how these people had become your family of sorts, even if it wasn’t a family you had chosen.

jaehyun spotted you first, standing up with that easy grin of his, arms already open for a hug. “there she is,” he murmured, pulling you in tightly. his embrace was warm and comforting, but the knowledge that this might be one of the last times he’d be there for you made it bittersweet. “have you met your new manager yet?” he asked as he released you, his eyes glancing over at mark, who stood just a few steps behind you.

you nodded, unsure of what to say, the words getting caught somewhere between your mind and your mouth. you could still feel the weight of mark’s jacket on your shoulders, the leather warm against your skin, grounding you as you stood between the two men. you wanted to say something that sounded more certain, but you were scared of how it might come out—scared it might sound like you didn’t want this. mark stepped forward, a casual confidence in his movements. “she ran into a bit of paparazzi trouble outside,” he said with a slight chuckle, as if it was nothing new.

jaehyun clapped him on the back, laughing. “always on duty, huh? you must have eyes everywhere.” mark grinned, his laugh coming easy. “you have no idea.”

he pulled out a chair for you, the gesture small but thoughtful, as he motioned for you to sit between him and jaehyun. as you lowered yourself into the seat, your eyes met his for a moment, and there was something in the way he smiled at you that eased the tension in your chest just a little bit. you settled in, the low buzz of the bar around you offering some comfort, though you still couldn’t shake the feeling of change looming in the air. the drinks came quickly—classic cocktails, neat whiskey, and bottles of soju. jaehyun was the first to raise his glass, and you followed suit. “i’m going to miss having soju while i’m away,” he said with a sigh, swirling the glass in his hand.

you clinked your glass against his, a smile tugging at your lips. “we’ll drink it in your honor.” he laughed, and as you turned to clink your glass with mark’s, your eyes met his again. he smiled back at you, that same easy warmth from earlier. for a second, you forgot about the looming goodbye, about the shift that was about to happen. you let yourself smile, feeling a strange sense of calm in the moment. the drinks were strong, stronger than you’d realized at first. the warmth of the alcohol spread through your chest, loosening the tightness in your muscles, and you allowed yourself to relax into the night. laughter flowed easily among the group, the conversation light and comfortable, even as the weight of jaehyun’s upcoming departure lingered on the edges.

but eventually, the night began to wind down. one by one, the team started to tap out, heading home with promises of seeing each other soon. jaehyun was the last to stand, his expression softening as he looked at you. “i’ve gotta head out. my flight’s tomorrow,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of the goodbye that neither of you wanted to say.

you stood with him, the alcohol making you feel just tipsy enough that the world seemed to blur a little around the edges. as you hugged him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around you, and you realized just how much you were going to miss him. “mark will take good care of you,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. all you could do was nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. he pulled away, giving you one last look before turning to leave. you watched him go, the door closing behind him with a finality that made your heart sink.

you sat back down, the world feeling a little off-kilter now that jaehyun was gone. the noise of the bar seemed distant, the voices around you a dull hum. but then you felt a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and when you turned, you found mark looking at you, his expression gentle. “i know you aren’t thrilled about this,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. “but he’ll be back.”

you nodded, trying to steady the emotions swirling in your chest. “don’t be offended,” you said, your words a little slurred from the alcohol. “i must sound like an asshole. i’ve just known jay a long time.” mark laughed softly, shaking his head. “the models i work with are usually blunt and awful. you’re like a breath of fresh air.”

your heart fluttered at his words, though you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or something else. either way, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a blush you couldn’t quite control. “really?” you asked, your voice soft. he nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “yeah. it’s hard to meet someone genuine like that.” it caught you off guard, the way he said it. he hadn’t called you hot or beautiful—the usual compliments that were thrown at you without much thought. he hadn’t treated you like you were something to admire from a distance, something polished and perfect. he thought you were genuine. nice, even. and for the first time in what felt like forever, something mattered other than how you looked.

mark stood outside the bar with you, his hand wrapped loosely around his phone as he called for a cab. the air was cool, the kind of breeze that bit at your skin just enough to remind you you’d had too much to drink. the world felt like it was swaying beneath you, the soft blur of neon lights and city sounds blending into the haze of alcohol that had settled deep into your bones. you barely noticed the cab pulling up, but mark did. he grimaced the moment he saw the driver, his jaw tightening as he clocked the smirk tugging at the corners of the man’s lips.

“stay here,” he murmured, his voice low as he helped you toward the back seat, his hand resting at the small of your back to steady you. the driver’s smirk grew as you stumbled slightly, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. mark’s patience snapped, his eyes narrowing into a glare that could cut through steel. Without a word, he climbed into the cab beside you, his presence filling the small space in an instant. the driver’s smirk faltered, his bravado crumbling under the weight of mark’s glare, and he turned his eyes to the road, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“how much has she had to drink?” the driver asked, his tone casual, though there was an undercurrent of something slimy beneath it, something that made mark’s blood boil. “you’re being paid to drive, not make small talk,” mark snapped, his voice sharp enough to make the driver flinch. silence fell over the cab, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle of the tires against the pavement. you, oblivious to the tension, rested your head back, your eyes fluttering closed as the night swirled around you. you were out of it, the world fading in and out, each moment blurred by the alcohol in your system. you didn’t notice the way mark was watching you, his gaze softening, his features smoothing as he made sure you were okay.

if you had been more aware, you might have seen it for yourself—something tender in the way he looked at you, something protective. it wasn’t the predatory gaze you had come to expect from men, the one that made you feel small and vulnerable, like something to be taken. no, this was different. this gaze made you feel watched over, cared for. like, for the first time, you weren’t alone. “you’re taking me home?” you slurred, your voice breaking through the fog as you turned to him, disrupting his thoughts. mark glanced down at you, his brow furrowing for a second before he nodded. “yeah,” he said softly, “gonna make sure you get there safely, then i’ll head back.”

you frowned, your eyes half-lidded as you tried to focus on him. “you’re being too nice,” you murmured, your words a little wobbly, childlike. he chuckled, the sound low and rich, a warmth that spread through your chest despite the alcohol’s numbing grip. “this is just the tip of the iceberg,” he replied, teasing but gentle. the cab pulled over in front of your building, the harsh overhead light inside flickering slightly as mark handed the driver his money, glaring one last time before slamming the door shut behind him. he helped you out, his arm around your waist as he guided you toward the entrance. you leaned into him, your steps unsteady, but his grip was firm, holding you upright, never letting you fall.

when you reached your apartment door, you fumbled for your keys, your fingers clumsy as they searched through your bag. you couldn’t find them, frustration bubbling up in your chest, but before you could say anything, he reached in and pulled the keys out for you. he unlocked the door, holding it open as you stumbled inside, expecting—fearing—that this was when things would change. this was when history would repeat itself, when he would become just like the others, just like every man who had ever taken advantage of you in your weakest moments. but it never happened.

instead, he pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both firm and soft, his warmth seeping into your skin. the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of alcohol, filling your senses. there was no pressure in the way he held you, no expectation. just comfort. when he pulled away, he bent slightly at the knees, his eyes level with yours as he spoke, his voice soft but clear. “get some rest, okay?” he said, pausing as his gaze flickered over your face. “we have work tomorrow.”

you nodded, your body too tired, too heavy to respond with anything more. he gave you one final smile, that same smile that had put you at ease earlier in the night, and then he turned on his heel, walking away without looking back. you stood there in your apartment, the door closing softly behind him, your mind struggling to piece together what had just happened. you had expected a lot, but not this. not someone who cared without asking for anything in return. not someone who saw you for more than just how you looked.

the pounding in your head felt like it would split your skull in two. you groaned, dragging yourself upright, the weight of exhaustion heavy in your limbs. the throbbing didn’t let up as you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in a futile attempt to chase away the hangover. the mirror reflected a face you barely recognized—dark circles under your eyes, skin pale and drawn. it was a far cry from the pristine, polished image you had to maintain in front of the cameras. right now, you were just tired. so tired.

you grabbed the bottle of painkillers from the medicine cabinet, shaking two pills into your hand and downing them with a gulp of water. the cold liquid soothed your dry throat, but it did little to chase away the hollow ache settling in your chest. you drank another glass, hoping it would make you feel less fragile, less breakable. your hands trembled as you set the glass down, the weight of the night before pressing on you, heavy and inescapable.

you wandered back to your bed, sinking into the comfort of the soft sheets, pulling them around you as if they could shield you from the world. but the world had already broken in. with a sigh, you reached for your phone, not ready but too curious to resist. you needed a distraction, something to pull you out of this haze. but as the screen lit up, you felt your stomach lurch. the first headline caught your eye, and the blood drained from your face as you read it.

your dark past—an anonymous ex airing out the ugly details of a relationship you thought you had buried years ago. the words stared back at you, cold and unforgiving, and each one cut deeper than the last. attention-seeking slut, slept her way through the scene and life itself. the accusations swirled around you, each one a dagger to the chest, every headline worse than the one before. it felt like the world was closing in, shrinking around you until there was nowhere left to hide.

you scrolled through the article, your hands shaking, your breath coming faster as the memories you had tried so hard to forget were dragged back into the light. this was worse than anything you could’ve imagined. you had been bracing yourself for the usual scandals—the kind of things models made headlines for. a wardrobe malfunction, a bad night out, maybe a ridiculous diet rumor. but this? this felt personal. too personal. and the worst part was, it was all out there, for everyone to see. you kept scrolling, hoping there was some way to stop the flood of accusations, but it didn’t stop. it never did. your heart pounded in your chest as the articles piled on, one after another, each one worse than the last. you reached the bottom of the page, bracing yourself for another wave of vitriol—but what you found was something different.

a response from your company. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as you saw the name attached to the statement—mark lee. your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before you clicked. his words were like a lifeline, pulling you out of the darkness for just a second. “her past has nothing to do with her present, her career or her heart,” he had stated firmly. “anyone making defamatory statements will face legal action.”

it was a short, direct statement, but it hit you like a bolt of lightning. mark had acted fast—so fast that it stunned you. you hadn’t even had the chance to process what was happening, but he had already stepped in to protect you, to shield you from the fallout. your company hadn’t hung you out to dry. he hadn’t hung you out to dry. and it wasn’t even morning yet. you let the phone slip from your hand, your heart still racing, but for a different reason now. mark hadn’t just stood by and watched as your name got dragged through the mud. he had taken action, defended you without hesitation. the weight of last night’s events came rushing back—the way he’d walked you home, the way he had been so kind, so careful, without expecting anything in return. and now, this.

how had he managed to do it so quickly, without so much as a second thought? how had he known to step in before things got even worse? you didn’t know, but what you did know was that mark wasn’t like the others. he wasn’t just your new manager. he was someone who had your back. the room felt too quiet, too still, as you lay there, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t believe this was the impression you were leaving behind—a model being defended for her humanity rather than her appearance. a woman with someone in her corner, fighting for her, when she had never expected it.

you pulled the front door shut behind you, squinting at the early morning sun filtering through the leaves, casting soft dappled light across the pavement. you adjusted your sunglasses, preparing yourself for the day, your mind still tangled with the weight of the headlines and mark’s words from last night. but as you stepped down the front stairs, something caught your eye—a car parked just a few feet away. the sleek black paint gleamed under the sunlight, and as your eyes adjusted, you saw him. mark, leaning casually against the hood, a small, gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. “you look like you could use a ride,” he said, his voice carrying over the stillness of the morning.

your heart fluttered, the ease in his tone making the heaviness in your chest feel a little lighter. was it possible for someone to be this kind, this genuine, without asking for anything in return? you hesitated for a moment, still unsure, still caught in the confusion of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. “are you sure?” you asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in your voice. mark rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, but that smile never wavered. “just get in,” he said, moving to the passenger side and pulling the door open for you. he gestured toward the seat, a playful look in his eyes, like he couldn’t understand why you were hesitating.

you gave in, sliding into the car, letting the plush leather seat envelop you. the inside was immaculate—black leather, clean lines, the scent of something warm and subtle, maybe sandalwood, lingering in the air. it was the kind of car that screamed understated elegance, not the flashy, attention-grabbing kind you were used to seeing in this city. everything about it felt intentional, like mark himself, composed and thoughtful without ever needing to prove anything.

as he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, you kept your gaze forward, unable to meet his eyes. shame clung to you like a second skin, the weight of yesterday’s headlines still too fresh. but you could feel his eyes on you, watching you in that quiet, gentle way that made you feel both seen and safe. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words, until mark’s voice broke through. “you saw, didn’t you?” his tone was soft, almost apologetic, like he wished you didn’t have to bear the weight of it.

you swallowed hard, your throat tight as you nodded. “thank you,” you murmured, surprising yourself with how much you meant it. “i’m sorry you had to see those comments.” he paused, pulling out of the driveway, his eyes flicking toward you for a moment before returning to the road. “i can’t believe you’re the one apologizing,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.

you frowned, confused by his response. “you were the one who had to deal with it,” you said, your voice a little firmer now. “you had to read those comments, engage with them.” mark glanced at you again, just for a second, but there was something in his gaze—something that made your heart ache, though you couldn’t quite place why. “you’re the one they were talking about,” he said quietly, the weight of his words sinking into the air between you.

you bit your lip, the familiar shame rising in your chest. “they didn’t lie about much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. mark’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “what do you mean?” your fingers fidgeted in your lap, the memories of your past flickering in your mind like painful old photographs. “i slept around when i was younger,” you said, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth. “i was ashamed. thought i was being loved, but it was the opposite.”

the silence that followed felt deafening. you braced yourself, preparing for the inevitable—a lecture, a judgment, the same disgust you had faced so many times before. you could almost hear the harsh words before they even came, could feel the sting of the shame that would follow. but instead, what came was something else entirely. “so what?” mark asked, his tone matter-of-fact, as if it were the most inconsequential thing in the world. you blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” you asked, your voice small, barely able to comprehend what you had just heard.

he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “you live, you learn. you make mistakes and move on from them. what about it? why would i hate you for it instead of hunting down those assholes one by one?” you were shocked. completely and utterly floored. you had spent so long believing that your past made you disgusting, that no one could ever look at you the same if they knew. and yet here was mark, looking at you like none of it mattered—like none of it could ever change how he saw you.

“you don’t think i’m disgusting?” you asked, your voice breaking just a little, your heart in your throat. he let out a dry laugh, the kind that held no real humor, only disbelief. “i could never think that about you,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you like a balm. the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally broke free, but this time they weren’t out of shame. for the first time in a long time, they were tears of relief. a small smile broke through the sadness, and you turned your head to the window, letting the tears fall in silence, feeling something you hadn’t felt in years.

mark’s presence felt like a shield as the crowd of paparazzi closed in around you, their cameras flashing incessantly. you could feel their hands tugging at your sleeves, jostling to get closer, to snap that perfect shot. their voices were a blur, shouting questions, making demands, their lights blinding you through your sunglasses. you froze, feeling trapped in the chaos, your breath catching in your throat.

but he was there, right beside you, his body tense and protective. his arm wrapped around you, and with a low, dangerous tone, he snapped, “back off.” his patience seemed to have worn thin, and his words cut through the air like a knife. the paparazzi hesitated, a few taking a step back, but some were still relentless. mark didn’t falter. he shifted, his hand moving to shield your face from the barrage of cameras, guiding you firmly toward the studio door. no one was getting a glimpse of you—not today, not like this.

by the time you made it inside, your head was spinning, your heart pounding in your chest. you felt exposed, even though he had done everything he could to protect you. as the door clicked shut behind you, the noise from outside was silenced, leaving only the soft hum of the studio’s air conditioning and the quiet, comforting sound of mark’s breathing beside you. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice small, barely audible. his smile was soft, but it reached his eyes as he reached up, gently sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head. his fingers brushed your hair back, and then, with the same tenderness, he removed the mask from your face, revealing the features you’d hidden from the world. “look at you,” he said quietly, his voice warm, “so pretty.”

it was a compliment, but not the kind that made you feel objectified or cheapened. it wasn’t the kind of praise you’d grown accustomed to—words that were always laced with lust, with ulterior motives. this felt different. it felt sweet, genuine. you smiled, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little as you savored the softness of his touch. before you could respond, the director called you into the room. you walked together, side by side, mark never leaving your side. his hand hovered protectively at your back, tracing small, soothing circles that grounded you. the nerves that had gripped you so tightly just moments ago began to ease, the tension in your shoulders melting away with each gentle motion.

as you entered the room, the director didn’t waste any time. “so, about the scandal,” he began, his voice clinical, detached, like it was just another problem to solve. “we need to do damage control.” his gaze flickered between you and mark, and you could feel the weight of his scrutiny. “what do you have in mind?” mark asked, his voice calm, though you could sense the tension simmering beneath the surface.

the director’s next words were like a punch to the gut. “a blind date,” he said, his tone as if it were the most logical solution in the world. “with someone just as famous and prestigious. it’ll take the heat off the story.” your heart sank, your throat closing up. you wanted to object, to say something, anything, but your voice betrayed you. you couldn’t get the words out. why was it always like this? why did you always lose your voice when men made decisions about your life? why did you always fall first, always bend to their will?

but this time, mark spoke up for you. “no,” he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “she’s not gonna do that.” the director shot him a sharp glance, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “what makes you so sure?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

he scoffed, the warmth in his expression fading as his hand dropped from your back. “i’m her manager,” he said, his tone cold. “i’m not gonna let you pimp her out to the press over a scandal.” you blinked, stunned by his words. you tugged at his sleeve, trying to get him to stop, terrified that he was digging his own grave by standing up for you. you couldn’t bear the thought of him losing everything because of you, of him falling short just like everyone else had. but he didn’t budge. the director removed his glasses, staring him down. “watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low. “you’re only here because of jaehyun.”

mark smiled, but it wasn’t the warm, playful smile he usually gave you. it was something harder, more condescending, though when he looked at you, that hardness softened. “i’m not,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “i’m here because of her.” his words made your heart skip a beat, a smile tugging at your lips despite the tension in the room.

the director scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. when mark simply nodded in response, the director leaned back in his chair, considering for a moment before speaking again. “fine. then you’ll date her. make it convincing for the cameras.” shock washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless. your eyes widened, your mind reeling. date him? publicly? it was absurd, and yet you couldn’t find your voice to object. you were frozen in place, trying to process what had just been said.

the director dismissed you both with a wave of his hand, as though you were mere pawns in his game. as you left the room, you could feel the anger radiating off mark. not at you, never at you, but at the way the director had reduced you to a tool, something to be used for publicity. it made his blood boil, and you could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i’m sorry,” he said as you walked down the hallway together, his voice low, filled with frustration.

you stopped, turning to face him. “you gotta stop apologizing,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. “i’d rather be your fake girlfriend than anyone else’s.” his lips curved into a small, almost sad smile, but it wasn’t convincing. you could see the guilt still weighing on him, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. but he nodded, accepting your words, even if he couldn’t fully believe them himself. and despite everything, despite the absurdity of the situation, you couldn’t help but smile, too.

the photoshoot dawned bright and clear, the studio awash with sunlight that filtered through large, high windows. the space was a hive of activity, filled with the muted hum of chatter and the clinking of equipment. the walls were adorned with a pristine white backdrop that could be transformed into any setting the imagination could conjure. spotlights were carefully positioned to cast a flattering glow, creating a perfect balance between shadow and light.

you arrived once more feeling a mix of trepidation and anticipation. the scandal was still fresh, its edges raw and jagged, but you tried to set it aside, focusing on the task ahead. the concept for the shoot was a glamorous vintage look—a nostalgic nod to the old hollywood starlets, with a modern twist. the wardrobe was exquisite: a shimmering gown in deep emerald green that hugged your figure before flaring out into a dramatic skirt. the bodice was adorned with delicate beadwork that caught the light with every movement, creating a subtle sparkle that seemed to dance across your skin. your hair was styled in voluminous waves, cascading down your back with a glossy sheen. the makeup was equally flawless—classic winged eyeliner and a nude lip, complemented by a subtle, radiant glow on your cheeks. as you stepped in front of the camera, you felt the energy of the room shift. the crew's murmurs fell silent as they focused on their work, adjusting lights and angles to best capture the vision. mark was there, of course, standing just off to the side. his gaze was fixed on you, and in that moment, it felt as though he was the only person in the room who truly saw you.

the photographer directed you with practiced ease, calling for different poses and expressions. you moved fluidly, slipping into character with a grace that felt almost effortless. the camera clicked rhythmically, its shutter capturing each fleeting moment of your performance. you felt a growing confidence, bolstered by the soft, encouraging murmurs from the crew.

throughout it all, mark’s eyes never strayed from you. his gaze was unwavering, filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes. it wasn’t just that he was watching; he was absorbing, cherishing each glance, each expression. his eyes held a warmth that transcended mere admiration. there was a softness, a depth that suggested he saw something in you that went beyond the surface, beyond the glittering gown and the carefully applied makeup. as the photographer called for a brief break, he approached, his footsteps light, his expression a mix of admiration and something deeper.

he reached out, gently adjusting a stray strand of hair from your face with a touch that was both respectful and intimate. “you’re doing incredible,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the backdrop of the studio’s ambient noise. “you’ve got this natural grace about you.” his words were more than just praise; they were a recognition of your essence, of the way you moved and carried yourself. you could see it in his eyes—his admiration was palpable, sincere. it was a gaze that lingered with affection, with a hint of something that bordered on reverence.

the photographer resumed the shoot, and with each click of the camera, mark’s gaze followed, unwavering. there was no objectification in his stare, no hint of lust or superficial desire. instead, it was as though he was seeing you for who you truly were—a person who, despite the chaos and scandal, was captivating, beautiful, and worthy of admiration. there was someone who saw past the headlines and the flashing cameras, who saw you as more than just a face on a magazine cover.

when the session finally concluded, and you stepped away from the set, you felt a profound sense of relief and accomplishment. mark was there to offer you a genuine smile, one that spoke of pride and support. “you were amazing today,” he said, his voice laced with admiration. “i’m really proud of you.” you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had little to do with the shoot and everything to do with the way he looked at you.

“so, see you tomorrow?” he asked, his tone warm, laced with a hint of casual curiosity. you hesitated, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing your mind. “actually,” you began, “would you like to get lunch with me now? i mean, if you’re not too busy, of course.” you trailed off, feeling a pang of self-consciousness. “i don’t want to impose or sound desperate,” you added quickly, feeling the need to clarify.

mark’s smile widened, a reassuring glimmer in his eyes. “i’d love to,” he replied. “it’s no imposition at all. let’s go.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you as he guided you towards his car. outside, the sun was beginning its descent, casting a golden hue over the city streets. mark’s car—a sleek, black luxury sedan with tinted windows—stood out in the midst of the bustling parking lot. it had an understated elegance, the kind that spoke of both comfort and refinement. the interior was plush, with leather seats that exuded a sense of sophistication.

he opened the door for you and, once you were settled inside, slid into the driver’s seat with practiced ease. his movements were smooth and confident, and as he started the engine, you noticed his demeanor had shifted. he was more focused, more protective, shielding you from the cameras that lingered at the studio’s entrance. his eyes remained sharp, scanning the area to ensure you weren’t bothered.

the drive to the restaurant was marked by a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional hum of street traffic. mark took a scenic route, passing through tree-lined streets and past elegant boutiques, showcasing a side of the city that felt both serene and refined. you glanced at him occasionally, catching glimpses of his profile illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights.

eventually, you arrived at a spot tucked away in a quieter part of the city. its exterior was a blend of modern chic and classic charm, with large windows framed by delicate drapery and a welcoming sign that hinted at the warm atmosphere inside. mark escorted you in, and the hostess, recognizing him, offered a discreet nod and led you to a cozy corner table away from the prying eyes of the street. the restaurant exuded a quiet elegance—soft ambient lighting, tasteful decor featuring muted colors, and a faint, inviting aroma of gourmet dishes being prepared. as you settled into your seat, mark pulled out a chair for you with a courteous gesture, his attention never straying far from you.

over the course of the meal, the conversation flowed easily. his presence was soothing, and his attentive listening made you feel at ease. the menu offered a range of refined dishes, and you both opted for light, comforting fare—fresh salads, tender grilled fish, and a selection of artisanal bread. the food was delicious, but it was the company that truly made the experience special. as you ate, you found yourself opening up to mark in a way you hadn’t anticipated. “you know,” you began, your voice tentative but earnest, “i’ve been used all my life. it’s like people see me as something to exploit, and it’s only made them think less of me.”

mark’s eyes softened as he listened, his gaze attentive and caring. he didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. instead, he simply took in your words, his expression reflecting a mix of empathy and understanding. “i’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” he said quietly. “no one deserves to be treated that way.”

you felt a lump form in your throat as his words sank in. the vulnerability you had shared was met with genuine compassion, something you hadn’t expected. mark reached across the table, his hand extending to yours with a tender, reassuring touch. “use me,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “use me until you love yourself.”

you were stunned, the weight of his words leaving you momentarily speechless. the promise in his voice was profound, a gesture of support that went beyond mere words. you stared at him, trying to process the depth of his offer. but before you could respond, his hands enveloped yours in a gentle embrace. in that moment, you were acutely aware of the contrast between the performance you had to put on and the genuine connection you were experiencing. the touch of his hands, the way he stroked your fingers with a tenderness that was both comforting and intimate, spoke of something deeper. it was as though the boundaries of your staged relationship were dissolving, giving way to a reality that was more genuine than you had anticipated.

the conversation continued, but the focus shifted to lighter topics. you both shared stories and laughter, the tension of the earlier events seeming to melt away. mark’s presence was a balm, soothing your frayed nerves and providing a sense of security you hadn’t known you needed. as the meal came to an end, he paid the bill, his hand still holding yours as you walked out. the sun had set, and the city lights were beginning to twinkle, casting a warm glow over the streets. you were acutely aware of the contrast between the authenticity of your time with him and the world outside, which seemed to linger with its judgment and scrutiny.

when you reached his car, he opened the door for you once more, his touch gentle and respectful. as you settled back into the plush interior, you couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. the lines between your staged relationship and the genuine affection you felt were blurring, and while you knew that you were still performing for the cameras, the moments of sincerity you shared with him were undeniable.

as he drove you back to your house, the evening air outside was crisp, a gentle reminder that the day was drawing to a close. the glow of streetlights cast a warm, comforting light through the windows of the car, creating a cocoon of serenity around you both. the drive was quiet, filled with a comfortable silence that spoke volumes more than words could. when you arrived at your front door, he walked with you, his presence a steady comfort against the backdrop of your otherwise solitary home. the hallway was lit, adding a soft ambiance to the moment. he stopped at your door, his expression softening into a genuine smile as he wished you a good night.

but as he turned on his heel to leave, something inside you surged—a reluctance to let him go, a sudden, overwhelming desire for him to stay. “wait,” you called out, your voice barely above a whisper. “spend the night.”

mark paused, his demeanor shifting as he turned back towards you. the smile on his face faltered, and his gaze became serious, filled with a mixture of tenderness and something you couldn’t quite place. “i can’t do that,” he said softly, almost apologetically. your heart sank. Were you so off-putting to him? was he so disgusted by you that he couldn’t even stay? the thought pierced you, and you had to ask, “why?”

his eyes met yours, and despite the gentleness that still lingered, there was an undertone of something raw and sincere. “because,” he began, taking a step closer, “i don’t think i’ll be able to control myself if i do.”

the distance between you was minimal now, so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating off him. his proximity made your heart race, the thump in your chest loud enough that you thought he might hear it. you swallowed hard, struggling to understand why you felt this way, why he was so close yet seemingly so far. “there are no cameras,” you reminded him, your voice trembling slightly as you attempted to reassure him of the privacy you both had.

mark chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your breath catch. “i don’t care about the cameras,” he said, his voice a soothing murmur. “it’s not about that.” the weight of his words, the gentle touch, and the unspoken emotions that seemed to fill the space between you made you feel a sudden surge of vulnerability. you hated yourself for feeling so exposed, for being so willing to give in, to risk it all, and to let someone see you so completely.

in that vulnerable moment, driven by an impulse you couldn’t quite control, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to his. it was a kiss filled with raw emotion, a desperate plea for connection. to your surprise, mark’s response wasn’t fueled by lust or urgency. Instead, his kiss was tender, patient, as though he was savoring every second. his hands cupped your face with a gentle care, his lips moving against yours with a softness that spoke of deep affection rather than fleeting desire.

when he finally pulled away, it was with a smile that seemed to reflect genuine fondness. “look at you,” he cooed, his fingers lightly ruffling your hair. “so cute.” you frowned slightly, still trying to process the unexpected tenderness. as he leaned against the doorway, his smile widening, you asked, “are you gonna leave?”

mark shook his head, his eyes gleaming with a playful warmth. “no way,” he murmured, his voice filled with determination. “someone has to make sure you get some rest.” the way he spoke, the care in his actions, almost felt surreal. it was as if the affection he showed was almost too good to be true. yet, as he stepped inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, you felt the house grow warmer, more inviting with his presence.

he watched you from the couch as you moved around the kitchen, preparing tea. the dim light from the overhead fixture cast a soft glow over you, highlighting the delicate way your hands trembled as you worked. he noticed how thin you looked, the hollowness of your cheeks and the way your clothes hung loosely on your frame. it made him wonder whether this was always the way you were or if it was a consequence of the relentless demands of your career.

“do you need help?” he asked, his voice filled with concern as he stood up and walked toward you. the distance between you seemed to shrink with every step he took. as he approached, he gently took hold of your wrists, guiding your hands to pour the boiling water over the tea bags. the warmth of the steam contrasted sharply with the coldness he felt in his chest as he observed your fragile state.

you turned to face him as you finished, giving him a soft, appreciative smile. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. he could see the tremors in your hands, which you tried to hide by gripping the mug tightly. “you’re shaking,” he said gently. “shouldn’t you eat more?”

a sad smile crossed your lips as you shrugged. “i should be eating less.” mark’s smile faded, and he set the mugs back on the table with a determined clink. the realization hit him hard, the idea that you were expected to adhere to a standard that demanded you to shrink, not only in size but in presence. it was unfathomable to him that someone as perfect as you should be subjected to such dehumanizing expectations.

“why did you take up such a job?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and concern. as you sipped your tea, you reflected on the question, your eyes distant as if searching for the right words. “everybody likes the surface,” you said, your smile fragile. “nobody cares about what goes beyond it. it’s always been like that, so i may as well get some money out of it.”

mark’s heart ached at the thought of you being reduced to eye candy, your worth dictated by your appearance rather than your true self. the notion that your life’s goal was to be admired rather than valued for who you were made him sick. “quit your job,” he said abruptly, the words escaping before he could fully process them. you looked at him in shock, the tea still hot on your tongue. “are you crazy?” you asked, incredulous.

he shook his head, his expression earnest but troubled. “quit your job,” he repeated. “you should be doing something you love instead of being everything you hate about yourself.” his words carried a raw truth that stung deeply. no one had ever told you to quit before; it had always been about encouragement, about pushing through. his opposition was startling because it was clear he saw you for more than just your looks, something no one else had done. it clicked for you then—mark was the only person who seemed to understand and care about the essence of who you were beyond the superficial.

“you mean it?” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of hope and disbelief. he didn’t answer with words but instead set his tea down and leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. the contact was so tender that it made your knees weak, tears threatening to spill over. it was a kiss devoid of urgency, filled with care and an earnest desire to comfort.

when he finally pulled away, his frown deepened at the sight of your tear-filled eyes. “how could anyone be cruel to you?” he murmured, his voice filled with sorrow. “so cruel that you cry at the slightest affection?”

your tears began to fall freely, unable to hold them back any longer. mark, seeing the depth of your pain, gathered you into his arms without hesitation. “don’t cry,” he whispered, though it was the exact thing that made you let go, burying your face in his chest as the tears flowed. he held you tightly, his arms a sanctuary from the world’s cruelties. cry, he thought, let it all out. as if sensing his silent encouragement, you did just that, clinging to him as you let your emotions pour out. for the first time, you felt truly cared for, not for how you looked but for who you were.

as you pulled back from him, your eyes still glistening with the remnants of tears, he reached up with his rough fingers to tenderly brush them away. his touch was surprisingly gentle, the contrast between the coarseness of his hands and the softness of his touch creating an intimacy that felt both intimate and profound. small, reassuring smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his gaze filled with an affection that was deeply comforting.

you leaned in to kiss him again, but this time, it was different. the kiss was infused with a hunger that transcended the need for love or the fear of loneliness. it was driven by a genuine feeling of being cherished, an intensity that came from truly feeling valued. the kiss full of passion, and you could hear the heavy breaths escaping from him, proof of the fervor that both of you were experiencing. despite the heat between you, mark pulled away, his face flushed, and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“don’t,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, their closeness adding to the depth of his emotions. the word was almost a plea, a desperate attempt to maintain control despite the overwhelming feelings. you frowned, confused and yearning for more. “why?” you asked, your voice laced with vulnerability.

he shook his head, his fingers gently stroking your hair in a soothing motion. “i don’t wanna be like them,” he whispered. “i don’t wanna break you.”

the sincerity in his voice was audible, his hesitation evident in the way he caressed your hair. the thought of him being so considerate, so concerned about not causing you pain, only made you feel even more secure and cherished. you took a step back, but his fingers remained entangled in your hair, a subtle reminder of his presence and his care. “break me,” you encouraged softly, your eyes locked onto his. “i’m yours to break.”

the words hung in the air, laden with an openness that surprised even yourself. mark’s hesitation deepened. he was overwhelmed by your fragility, the softness in your eyes, and the way you looked at him with such trust. he didn’t want to cause you any harm, didn’t want you to feel used or sullied. “i don’t want you to feel used,” he admitted, his voice betraying his internal conflict. the tenderness in his voice and the way he looked at you with such genuine concern only made you feel more at ease. you didn’t respond verbally; instead, you kissed him again, your hands exploring the contours of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the fabric.

his resolve wavered as he felt the intensity of your touch. his initial urge to hold back dissolved as you made it difficult for him to resist. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap, never breaking the kiss. in his mind, he battled with the thought of being gentle versus the desire to give in fully to the moment. his struggle was open, yet he knew he could be gentle, that he could offer you the care and affection you deserved. his thoughts raced as he navigated this delicate balance, his love and concern for you making him want to be as gentle as possible while also embracing the passion that surged between you.

his hands moved from your hair to your shoulders, then down to your breasts, cupping the small mounds of flesh tenderly. you gasped into the kiss as his thumbs brushed over your sensitive nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. his touch grew bolder, kneading and caressing, as you arched into his palms, your desire growing more urgent. the fabric of your shirt was the only barrier, and it was clear that it wouldn’t be enough for much longer.

mark felt your urgency, and his own desire grew stronger. he broke the kiss to gaze into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or fear. all he saw was the same trust and need that had been there before. with trembling hands, he began to unbutton your shirt, one button at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation was present, a heady mix of excitement and emotion that made your heart race. as he undid the last button, his eyes shamefully drifted to the sides of your shirt covering your bare breasts, but he didn’t have time to feel shame, not when he wanted you to feel loved.

his hands slid inside your shirt, pushing the fabric aside to expose your soft, perfect skin. he took a moment to just look, his breath hitching at the sight of your nipples, pebbled and begging for his touch. his eyes filled with tears, not of pain or regret, but of pure love and the depth of his feelings. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion. you didn’t speak; instead, you leaned in to kiss him again, this time more urgently, your tongue dancing with his, as your hands found the hem of his shirt, eager to feel his bare chest against yours.

his own shirt was soon discarded, and you both sat there, breathing heavily, skin to skin. his strong hands continued to massage your breasts, his thumbs playing with your sensitive peaks, driving you wild with every touch. your own hands roamed over his shoulders, his arms, feeling the strength and warmth of his body. the connection between you was sickening, a silent conversation of love and lust that didn’t need words. “fuck,” you exhaled as his thumbs danced around your erect nipples, kneading the thin flesh of your breasts. you felt ashamed for a second, ashamed at the lack of what you had to offer him, at the dainty size of your breasts. you felt the need to cover up, to hide yourself from him, thinking it wouldn't be enough for him to enjoy. you crossed your arms over your small breasts, a shy look of embrassment in your face, but mark wasn’t having any of it.

his hands gently moved yours aside. “no, baby, don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration. “you’re perfect. absolutely perfect. i love every inch of you, these too,” he said, tracing his fingers over your breasts again. his words were like a balm to your insecurities, a gentle caress to your ego. his warm mouth found one of your nipples, suckling it with surprising gentleness. the sensation was like a lightning bolt straight to your core, and you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. your hands found his hair, threading through the soft strands as he worked his magic on your breasts. the way he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the world, made you feel so cherished, so loved. you lacked what other girls could easily offer him, yet he didn’t seem to care.

his other hand found its way down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, over your hips, and down to the button of your pants. with a gentle tug, he encouraged you to lift your hips, allowing him to pull them off. you were now fully exposed to him, vulnerable in a way that was thrilling and terrifying all at once. his eyes took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your bare pussy, glistening with arousal. he groaned, his own desire thick in the air. “so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand moving to touch you lightly.

his fingertips grazed your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you moaned, unable to hold back the sound, your legs spreading wider to give him better access. he took his time, teasing and exploring, his touch as tender as if you were made of the most delicate glass. he parted your folds, his finger sliding in easily, feeling the slickness of your arousal. you were so wet for him, and the sight of his finger disappearing into you made him even harder. “you’re so ready for me, fuck, like you were made for me,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

his thumb continued to circle your clit as his finger began to move in and out, his pace increasing gradually. your hips rocked in sync with his movements, the pleasure building inside you like a crescendo. he watched your face, reading your every expression, ensuring that he was giving you exactly what you needed. his eyes never left yours, filled with a fierce love and protection that made your heart swell. you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps, but he wasn’t done yet. he needed to feel you, to have you with him filling you up to the brim.

mark leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid them off. his cock, hard and demanding, sprang free, and you couldn’t help but stare. he was big, much bigger than you had anticipated, and the sight of him made you both nervous and incredibly turned on. he noticed your gaze and smirked slightly, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes. “aren’t scared, are you?” he asked playfully, his voice a seductive whisper.

you shook your head, trying to play it cool despite the nervousness that bubbled up inside you. “not at all,” you lied, your voice a little shaky. he chuckled, his hand moving to stroke himself slowly, the sight of his hand on his cock making your stomach flip. “you sure?” he questioned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. you nodded, your eyes locked onto his hand, watching the way his shaft grew even more as he touched himself. no matter how scared you were, you knew he would take care of you.

mark leaned in, his mouth capturing yours again, his kiss gentle yet filled with a burning need. you felt his hand move away from your pussy and the loss of his touch made you whine into the kiss. but the sound was soon muffled by his groan as he pulled away, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance. the tip of his dick was slick with precum, and you felt a thrill of anticipation as he pushed against you, just the tip teasing you. it had barely grazed your slit, yet you were soaking around him, the sight of it only clouding his mind even more.

his eyes searched yours for any sign of doubt, but all he saw was the same eagerness that reflected his own. with a deep breath, he pushed in, inch by inch, his big cock stretching you wider than you’ve ever been. it was a delicious pain, a sweet agony that you couldn’t get enough of. your nails dug into his shoulders as he filled you up, his gentle strokes becoming deeper, more insistent. your walls tightened around him, trying to hold onto his length as if afraid to let go. “you’re okay, baby, just hold on,” he encouraged softly as you whined, nails clawing at his skin.

his praise, his tenderness, it all felt so overwhelming that tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes. it was too much, too beautiful, and it hurt in the most exquisite way. you nodded, your breath hitching as he reached down to kiss you again, his tongue delving into your mouth as his cock pushed deeper into your pussy. your moans grew louder as he found a rhythm that had you writhing in his lap, your body moving with the gentle ebb and flow of his hips. “look at you, taking me so well,” he cooed at the sight of his cock tucked into the swell of your cunt, his fingers grazing the small creases of your breasts as you tightened around him.

his strokes grew more deliberate, his movements more powerful, yet never crossing the line into roughness. he was worried that his size might be too much for you, so he held back, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible without causing any discomfort. but you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint that was clear in every line of his face, the cords of his neck standing out as he held back. you didn’t want that; you wanted all of him, the beast that lurked beneath his tender exterior. “i can take it, break me, please,” you panted. his hands reached down, your hands wrapping around his, urging him to go deeper, to move faster.

his eyes searched yours, looking for confirmation, and what he saw there was all he needed. he let go of the last of his restraint, his hips moving with more force. your pussy stretched around his thick cock, the feeling of fullness making you dizzy. each thrust was met with a wet slap, the sound echoing in the quiet room, mingling with your cries of pleasure. your walls clenched around him, trying to hold onto him, to keep him deep inside you, to never let him go. his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles that had you bucking your hips, trying to get closer, trying to get more. he was so sweet, his hair tickling your skin as he wrapped his tongue around your nipple, his tongue probing at the flesh. you wanted to feel insecure, but he was making it impossible.

his hand found yours again, his fingers interlocking with yours, as if to remind you that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. the connection was strong, and it only grew stronger with each passing moment. your orgasm was approaching like a freight train, and you could feel it building in the pit of your stomach. your breath grew shallower, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in the feeling of him inside you. his free hand was in your hair, tugging gently, his teeth grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

his thrusts grew deeper, and the pressure on your g-spot was intense. you felt yourself tightening around him, your pussy gripping him like a vice. “cum for me, baby, cum on my cock,” he whispered in your ear, his voice a seductive rumble that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. the words alone were enough to send you over the edge, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. your body tensed, your pussy pulsing around him as you screamed out his name, your eyes squeezed shut, tears of joy streaming down your face.

his own orgasm was building, the feel of you tightening around him was too much. with one final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, groaning as he released his seed, filling you up without a single thought of protection. he watched as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your climax, his heart racing with the intensity of his own feelings. the sight of you, coming apart in his arms, was more than he could handle. his own eyes filled with tears, his love for you so overwhelming that he couldn’t help but cry with you.

he held you tightly as he pulled out, his cock still hard and glistening with your juices. his hand moved to stroke your hair, his eyes never leaving your face. “i love you,” he whispered, the words coming out in a choked sob. the weight of his emotions was palpable, and you felt your own heart swell in response. you leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his cum leaking out of you, a testament to the intimacy you had just shared. “i love you too,” you whispered back, your frail fingers wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks.

there was no shame in it anymore. there were no cameras waiting to capture the moment, no witnesses. there was nobody but the two of you. there were no mocking looks or harsh words to battle your self-esteem, nothing to fuel your insecurities. he was as raw as you were, but he was stronger than you. he didn’t cry because of the sex, he cried because of the love. you weren't too sure about a happy ending just yet, but a beginning was more than you could’ve asked for.

✧*.

a/n: to the doll that requested, hope u know ur absolutely perfect no matter what. never let anybody’s subjective opinion or the standards perpetuated dictate how beautiful you are and how beautiful you should feel. this goes to anybody reading, because i know there’s too many of you scrolling through tiktok and thinking, “why cant i look like that?” or “why do i have hip dips, why doesn’t my ass looks like that, why does she look like that and i don’t?” i promise all of your insecurities are illusions purposely projected by the media to make you give into what they’re feeding you. no, starving yourself won’t make you beautiful. neither will overused lips fillers or heavy botox or that botched bbl. there’s nothing wrong with the way you look, there never was and there never will be. cherish every part of yourself, you never know who may be looking at you and wishing they had what you do.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Babysitting

Zećira Mušović x Hardersson!Reader

Johanna Rytting Kaneryd x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your mothers go out and your babysitters get stressed

Wrapped up in Morsa's blanket and Momma's old jumper, you look especially cute and snuggly.

If Zećira and Johanna ignore your red-rimmed eyes and the anxious little pitter-patter of your feet as you sit with your knees up to your chest, you would almost look peaceful.

Magda and Pernille have gone out for the night, some awards show that was just the same as all the others. But, with both of them up for an award, they couldn't use you as an excuse to get out of it.

So, that left you with your temporary babysitters.

There was a list of instructions pinned to the fridge but neither were quite sure how to look after you in the comfort of your own home.

You'd gotten whiny when your mothers left, bursting into tears and crying for a long while before you calmed yourself by wrapping Morsa's blanket around you like a cape and forcing Momma's old jumper over your head.

You're sitting on the floor now, back pressed up against the sofa with a clear view of the front door just in case it opens. You've got lego bricks surrounding you and Zećira sits opposite, helping you choose which pieces to click into place.

You're a little antsy and anxious but Johanna and Zećira keep walking on eggshells around you. Johanna in particular, walks laps around the kitchen, trying to work out what was suitable to feed a little kid.

You finish your first little flower and get up off the floor. Zećira makes an aborted movement to grab you for reasons unknown and you give her a weird look.

She looks back at you.

You blink.

She blinks.

You go to Johanna in the kitchen and tug on her trousers. "Juice, please," You say.

She looks down at you in shock, for some reason. Like she wasn't in the house where you lived.

Both she and Zećira are being weird today.

"Juice, please," You say again.

"Right! Right, yeah." She nods several times before swinging open the fridge. She grabs the carton of orange juice and goes to pour some into a glass.

You make a face.

"What?" She asks.

"That's not my juice," You say," That's Momma and Morsa's juice."

Technically, it's the family juice but you don't drink it, so you don't want to really claim it as the family juice.

"Oh! Silly me!"

She grabs the apple juice and you sigh.

"That's not my juice either," You say," I don't drink apple." That's a complete lie. You do drink apple juice but you don't really want any right now. "I drink the summer fruits."

Her throat bobs as she pours your drink. You reach for the glass but she keeps holding onto it.

"My drink," You whine.

"I'll hold it," She says nervously," Just in case you drop it. Broken glass can be dangerous, you know."

You give her a strange look. You know that. Of course, you know that. But you also know how to carry glass. You're always super safe and careful and drink from Momma and Morsa's glasses all the time.

You let her hold it though because she's got that look on her face that Momma has when you wander off. If letting Johanna hold your drink helps her to not cry then you'll let her hold it.

You sip at your drink before you return to Zećira.

"Hey, kiddo," She says as you pull Morsa's blanket tighter around your shoulders and sniff at the collar of Momma's jumper. "What do you think about dinner?"

It's a weird question but Zećira's weird sometimes so you answer.

"Dinner's cool. I prefer lunch though."

"No...No, I mean...What do you want for dinner?"

You hum for a moment, clicking a green brick on top of a brown brick. "Want Morsa's dinner." You glance at the door. "When Morsa and Momma comin' back?"

"Later," Zećira says, though she doesn't have a heart to tell you that 'later' really means 'after you're in bed'. "What do you want to eat?"

You think as you grab another brown brick. "Goldfish crackers," You answer," They're my favourite."

Zećira looks ready to start screaming or maybe crying.

"For dinner," Johanna says as she approaches," What do you want to eat for dinner?"

The word 'dinner' makes rapid connections in your head again before you give both of your babysitters a dopey smile. "Morsa makes dinner. She's the cooking boss! If Momma's good, sometimes, she gets to make the brocoli!"

"Well, they're not here right now," Zećira says," So what do you want to eat instead?"

At the reminder, you promptly burst into tears.

"Good going, idiot!" Johanna shrieks, flapping her arms about in horror as you sob and kick your little legs against the floor. "Look at her!"

"What do we do?"

You cry and shriek and pull Morsa's blanket over your head to hide. You feel better in your self-made tent, hidden away from Zećira and Johanna. It's better in here and you breathe in and out deeply like Momma does sometimes when she wants to calm down.

It takes a while but eventually you peak your head out, like a little tortoise.

"Hey," Johanna says softly," Sorry Zećira made you upset. Um...I heard that you like McDonald's? How about we just order in? We don't have to cook."

Your Momma and Morsa never let you have McDonald's. Never ever. You should really tell Johanna this.

"McDonald's! Yay!"

●～●～●～●～

There's no more accidents or crying for the rest of the night. You're content wrapped up tightly in your Morsa's blanket, wearing your Momma's jumper, sitting on the floor with your lego bricks and your McDonald's.

You munch on your fries, your fingers all greasy. Zećira is still sitting opposite you and Johanna is on the sofa, her legs bracketing your body.

You know that you're tired because your legos are no longer interesting and the room is feeling a little too-warm to be awake in. You yawn wide, rubbing at your eyes before blinking to get the sleep out of them.

"Are you tired?" Zećira asks and you shake your head.

You glance at the door. You know what adults are like. If you tell Zećira you're tired then she and Johanna will make you go to bed and you don't want to go to bed without seeing Momma and Morsa.

"I think you are."

You give her your best-Morsa glare. "No! I'm not!"

Johanna laughs. "Alright," She says," You're not tired but I'm going to need a cuddle buddy as we watch a movie. Do you think you're up for that?"

You think about it as Zećira clears away the food and puts your legos back in their special container. The lights in the room are pretty dim and it's still too-warm to be awake. Momma sometimes makes the room like this when she wants you to sleep but you don't really think Zećira and Johanna are smart enough to do that.

So, you nod and clamber up into Johanna's lap.

It starts off easy enough, just sitting on her. But then, she's turning you slightly in her arms, cradling you like Morsa does sometimes. You wiggle a little bit, trying to get comfortable because Johanna's grip isn't quite as sure as Morsa's.

Zećira returns from a phone call she took a few minutes ago. She flicks the light fully off until the only way you can see them is the flickering of the tv screen.

Your eyes droop a little bit as the movie plays. It's animated and in Swedish instead of English so usually you'd happily watch it but you let your eyes slide shut.

As long as you focus on listening, then you're sure that you'd be awake for when Momma and Morsa get home.

●～●～●～●～

Pernille opens the door slowly, trying not to make much noise.

Magda's holding her head, smiling wide as they step into the house.

The lights are off but Pernille isn't worried. She already kind of knew that she would find Johanna and Zećira asleep on the sofa. It was fine so long as they woke up if you had a nightmare or got out of bed. It wasn't like Pernille and Magda were up at all hours watching you as you slept.

Magda flicks the light off. "Alright you two-" Her voice is loud and she stops talking immediately when she spies what's going on.

Zećira has her neck leaned back uncomfortably on the back of the sofa, snoring softly with her mouth open. Johanna is asleep too though in a much more comfortable looking position.

You're cradled on her chest, wrapped up snugly in Magda's blanket with Pernille's jumper just peeking out from underneath.

"They were meant to put her to bed," Pernille says with a hint of amusement in her tone.

"We both knew they were never actually going to get her to bed," Magda replies," That's our job."

Pernille smiles and lifts you out of Johanna's arms without waking her. It wakes you though and your sleepy eyes crack open. You smile dopily at her.

"Hi, Momma," You slur," Hi, Morsa."

"Hi, princesse," Momma says, shifting you in her arms so you can rest your head on her shoulder.

"You look so snuggly," Morsa says, stroking your hair," Did you have a good time with Zećira and Johanna?"

You hum in affirmation. "We did lego," You say as Momma walks you up into your room," And we ate dinner and..." You yawn. "We watched a film."

"Oh, yeah?"

Momma tucks you into bed and presses a kiss to your nose.

"Was fun," You say, still heavy with sleep and both of your mothers know that you won't even remember this interaction in the morning.

"I'm glad," Morsa says. She gives you a kiss on the nose like Momma does.

"Night-night, Momma and Morsa," You say, grabbing at your duvet and turning on your side.

"Good night, princesse."

[aagneauu]

High value habits to elevate yourself 🥂✨

When the term "high value" is mentioned, we often think of things related exclusively to economic wealth, but being a high-value person is an attitude, an attribute founded on habits and a wealthy mentality. So today I wanted to mention a few habits that I personally perceive as something a person with strong standards apply on their lives. ✨

Sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language :b

1. Long-term mentality ✦

Enjoying yourself is very important, but when we only think about the things that give us temporary pleasure, is often very likely that we forget to take care about our future stability. For example, if you want to travel, the smart thing to do would be to save the money in order to be able to afford it, but how many times we just feel the urge to waste money on unnecessary stuff just to get that brief satisfaction, that bad habit will take us far from our goals. This rule can be applied on almost every aspect, and if you're able to stick to your goals and take decisions according to them, trust me, you'll get very far.

2. Invest ✦

Stop wasting and start investing; your money, your time and your energy. In terms of money, you obviously can spend some of it on pretty stuff, but instead of wasting your whole salary on things you want, a smarter move would be to use part of that money to invest it on something that potentially can give us another income, maybe there's a valuable peace of jewelry or clothing that not only we could use, but to sell and trade in the future, or even if you have enough money saved, you can invest in a property, to not only live in it, but to rent it. Our time and energy works in the same way, we could be wasting our time and energy with people that don't give us nothing we can learn from, and you're worth way more than that. Find people and habits that not only make you feel good and appreciated, but that will leave you something interesting for your personal growth, and remember, better alone than in a bad company.

3. Details matter ✦

How we talk, how we decide to present ourselves to the world, our values, the effort we put on what we make. Every little detail says something about us. For example, something as simple as spraying perfume before we go out makes a difference, or if you study, the amount of time and effort you decide to put on certain classes. Socially, what you decide to say, and to develop the hability to stay quiet when necessary. Maybe you think that those little things don't make a huge difference at the long-term, but when you see how your life can change drastically with every little step you take, you learn to pay attention to it.

4. Patience ✦

It is a strong word, it is even harder to apply to our lives sometimes. Being patient not only with people, but with our circumstances. Sometimes things that we don't like happens, and we don't even understand why because we thought that we did everything right, but everything happens for a reason, it's like a fruit, you could take it out of the tree earlier because you're hungry, but it isn't that mature and tasty, but if you just wait, resist the hunger, the fruit will be way better. That applies to money, emotional growth and life changes. Learn to understand that sometimes, pain will be the sign to something better than your current situation.

5. Stop following the crowd ✦

Set standards and learn what is good for you, if you just rely on others to decide what is best for you, or even worse; you know something is bad for you and still do it for others, then expect low quality experiences. People time to time will call you boring or even extreme just because you decide to be loyal to your values. If something that everyone is doing seems beneficial, do it, but because it gives you something valuable, not because of the crowd. You can apply this rule to everything; friends, money, and other experiences. The amount ot peace and comfort that you can get with this transformation is a huge life upgrade.

This were some topics that come to mind when the "high value" term is mentioned. And remember, no one is perfect and every little thing makes us unique. Life is a long journey that you can decide to upgrade with every little move.

Hope u enjoyed! ♡