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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 7 months

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My Alpha

This is kind of a long one shot (5619 words!), but I thought I'd try my hand at the ABO!/Omegaverse. Hope you like it!

Being an omega wasn’t always a bad thing. At least that’s what she told herself repeatedly as she religiously took hormone blocking birth control pills and wore scent blockers on the daily. Y/N hadn’t had a heat in years and wasn’t planning on letting up any time soon. She had started working as a personal assistant for the Avengers under Tony Stark years before, going through the Sokovia Accords debacle, surviving the Blip, losing Natasha, Tony, Steve, T'Challa, and all the other strange and traumatic things that happened during her tenure. She had denied her biology to get this job, not wanting it to affect her performance or be a target while being surrounded by literal super Alphas in this field. And as hard as the job was, she loved it.

One of the greatest highlights was gaining Bucky Barnes as a friend. While other Alphas she had come across were domineering, he was compassionate and kind. He very rarely lost his composure like others did during high pressure situations in missions, and never fought over who was in charge. He was incredibly careful to make sure everyone around him felt comfortable in his presence. After finally shaking the Winter Soldier programming he didn’t want to ever lose control of himself again, and with the super soldier serum messing with his hormones to the extent that he was nearly feral during ruts, he would isolate himself away to keep her and others safe.

Y/N felt like she could talk to him about anything, and he felt the same. She was his sanctuary after rough missions, one of the few people that could break him out of a deep depressive state or the nightmares that still plagued him. He knew she was an Omega but could barely smell her because of her blockers, which he both loved and hated. Loved because it made it so they could be friends without the weird biological dynamics getting in the way, and hated because he was super curious about what her scent was. They had fallen for each other long ago, but were both too afraid to do anything about it.

As they both relaxed during a rare weekend off they got on the topic of Omega versus Alpha traits. “I get it, Alphas can be rough, but don’t you want to mate someday? Find someone special to settle down with? Maybe have a family?”

She sighed. “Of course I do, Buck.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked gently.

“Not having a clear choice,” she answered simply, giving him a sharp look. “I don’t want my biology to decide my fate. So many Omegas get stuck being mated with bad Alphas because their heats were uncontrollable and the Alpha wouldn’t take no for an answer. I know that I’m predestined to be a nurturer. Hell, that’s what my job is now, taking care of all of you guys! But I should get to choose who I end up with based on love, not by body’s reactions.” Bucky nodded in understanding, looking down at his intertwined hands. “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I just don’t know how it would work out. This job…my past. It all points towards disaster at any given time.”

She slid over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders awkwardly as she sat next to him. “You deserve a happy ever after, Bucky.”

“You do, too, you know,” he reminded her, resting his head on top of hers.

“Mmh, maybe someday,” she said wistfully as she undid her embrace and leaned back against the couch.

“So, anyways,” he cleared his throat. “Is it true that Omegas have a better sense of smell than Alphas or Betas? Like you can pick up on others’ scents and identify them really well?”

She laughed. “Yes, it’s true.”

“Really? Okay, what does…” he scanned the room as other Avengers milled in and out. “Peter. What does Spidey smell like?” He tested her, watching her expectantly.

She took a look at Peter across the room, her nose slightly flaring as she took in a whiff from his direction. “He always smells like fresh bagels to me. You know the smell of just-baked bread? Kinda like that. Mixed with a little bit of hazelnut.”

Bucky looked at her in awe. “Yeah I kinda get that off of him. Alphas can smell and track scents but not to that level.”

“Hm, that’s interesting,” she said as her eyebrows furrowed.

“Now how about Sam?” he asked excitedly, hoping it would be something not so pleasant he could tease him about.

“Ha, Sam is Cajun seasoning with a sweet lemony undertone. Like really well done seafood,” she answered quickly with a smile on her face, knowing Bucky would be disappointed in that answer.

Bucky frowned as he thought about who to ask of next. “Okay, how about…Steve?” He knew it was a long shot. Steve had been gone for a few years now, so she probably wouldn’t remember. But she gave him a soft smile.

“Steve was smoky, like fireworks. A summer night that ends with warm apple crisp and melting vanilla ice cream on top,” she said as she stared out the window, a dazed look in her eyes as she remembered him.

“Wow…” Bucky whispered. “I always got the fireworks, and something like a picnic. But now that you say it, yeah, apple with vanilla.”

“Yep, he was truly all American,” she winked at him.

He laughed as he turned towards her on the couch. “How about, um…me?”

She gazed at him, her expression softening as her nose flared again and she huffed out the breath she’d taken. “Smoky, like Steve, but different.”

“Like gunpowder?” he asked suddenly, his eyes searching hers. He had been told that before and was hoping they were wrong.

“No, not gunpowder. More like…” she sniffed again but frowned. “Do you mind if I…?” she gestured her finger from herself to him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said, opening himself up for her to scoot closer to him. She leaned in towards his neck, the best place to scent someone, and breathed in a slow sniff of him. She closed her eyes.

“Campfire. A campfire on the beach. And the smell of the ocean after it rains,” she said resolutely, opening her eyes to look at him. Their faces were close as he stared at her. “But no, not gunpowder,” she reassured him.

“That’s good,” he breathed, his eyes shifting from her eyes down to her lips and back.

Her eyes suddenly widened, her brow furrowing and she pulled herself away quickly. “I, um…I need to go…excuse me,” she said hurriedly before she jumped off the couch and power-walked down the hall towards her room.

“Wait, Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky stood from the couch as he watched her leave.

“Yeah! I’ll talk to you later!” she yelled back without looking, her voice sounded strained.

“What the hell?” he asked himself quietly, looking around him like something had jumped out and spooked her.

Once she was out of sight she ran to her room and had Friday bolt the door. She doubled over in pain and clutched her stomach. “No way,” she moaned as she reached for her phone and called for help.

“Hey you, how are ya?” Bruce asked when he answered the call.

“Bruce,” her voice was pained as she held in another moan. “I need help, something’s wrong.”

“What? What’s going on?” he sounded worried, the rustling of papers and beeping from a screen by him going off.

“It feels…like a heat? But that’s not possible, right? We made sure of it,” she grunted as another cramp shot through her abdomen, and just as suddenly as it all started, it suddenly stopped, leaving her gasping. “Wait, now it stopped? What the hell is happening?”

“Come down to the lab, right now. We’ll get you tested.”

She didn’t need to be told twice as she hung up and crept out of her room towards the elevator. She was able to get in and down to the lab a few floors away without being caught by Bucky or anybody else. She ran into the lab in a panic. Bruce was already setting up the medical bay in the back with everything needed to do a check-up, some vials next to the other instruments.

“Hey, let’s take some blood and see what’s going on,” he called out to her when he heard the doors slide open. She jogged to the bed and hopped up on it, taking off her cardigan so he could access the veins in her arm better. After a quick routine check up he took a few vials of her blood then stepped out towards all the equipment he had for medical and scientific tests.

He worked silently as she sat there deep in thought. It can’t be, she tried to reassure herself. I’ve been so careful. Not missed a single pill ever. This can’t be happening. After about an hour Bruce came back with a screen in his hand, his eyebrows hung low over his eyes and a frown on his face.

“Y/N, it’s…it’s not working anymore,” he said softly, his eyes sad and confused as he looked at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes widening.

“The hormone blockers, the pills…your body isn’t responding to them anymore. Your hormones are syncing back to normal Omega levels. Your heats are going to come back.”

“No, no no no no no…NO Bruce! I can’t. Please, there’s gotta be another pill to try, a shot, an implant, something? Anything, please?” she began to cry.

“I’m sorry Y/N. We already got you the best blockers that are available out there. If your body is weaning off of them it means your biology is taking over, probably because you’re getting older and it’s fighting back to have a chance at mating. I’m so sorry,” he showed her the hormone levels on a chart on the screen, pointing out the differences and then setting it down. “There’s nothing I can do. Nothing you can do but prepare yourself for it to start again. And your first one is probably going to be brutal after avoiding them for so long. You’ll need help–”

“NO! No, I can’t do this. I can’t ask some random Alpha for help. This isn’t fair!” she cried harder, hiding her face in her hands. Bruce patted her on the back, trying to help ease her pain by giving off a calming scent. He was also an Omega and knew how much this meant to her.

“It will be alright, Y/N. You have friends here who will help you without making it awkward between you and them, or won’t immediately try mating with you during your heat. They’re good Alphas. They won’t hurt you or take advantage of you,” he promised.

She tried to calm the loud beating of her heart that was wringing in her ears, a panic attack trying to settle deep in her bones that she was fighting back. “How long do I have until it comes?” she sighed as she sniffled.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. With it being so long since you last had one it could be next week or it could be in a couple of months,” he answered gravely.

“Ugh, great,” she laughed as she wiped her tears away. “No choice, whatsoever. My body ultimately got to decide for me after all. Wonderful,” she spat as she jumped down off the bed. “Thank you, Bruce, for testing. I just…I need to go sleep this off, I don’t know,” she said, giving him a quick hug and then leaving the lab.

She took the elevator back up to her floor, her eyes stinging from the hot tears still slowly falling down. Her heat was coming back, and with a vengeance. She would need help. Who would she ask? Any of the unmated superhero Alphas would probably say yes, though she knew she only wanted one. But how could she ask this of him? And if he did help, how could she go on with their friendship as if nothing had happened between them afterwards?

The elevator opened and she trudged into the common room. The floor was already dark as twilight set in and everyone had split off to their rooms. She slipped into the kitchen since she missed dinner while down in the lab to grab something to eat, although she wasn’t particularly hungry. As she made herself a sandwich she turned to grab a knife then saw a figure in the corner at the dining table.

“Jesus! Fuck, Bucky you scared me,” she gasped, holding a hand over her heart.

“Sorry, honey,” he grunted as he sat watching her. “Why are you crying?”

She stiffened as she looked at him, trying to act nonchalant as she grabbed the knife and turned back to her sandwich. “I’m not, I’m just tired,” she waved him off, quickly cutting the sandwich and putting the ingredients and dishes away to escape.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N. What’s wrong?” he stood, walking towards her. She reached for the refrigerator door to get a drink, which he quickly shut and stared her down. She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Come on Buck, I just need a drink,” she complained as she tried to open the door again, reaching for the handle. Bucky grabbed her wrist firmly and leaned in towards her.

“What’s wrong Y/N? You ran away earlier and now you smell…off,” he said, searching her eyes as his nose flared at the scent she was radiating. His frown deepened and his eyes looked worried. “Why are you afraid? Was it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No! Oh no, Bucky, it’s not you,” she said, her eyes widening. “It’s me, it’s just…” her eyes welled up with tears again, spilling onto her cheeks as she sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s me,” she sobbed, leaning forward til her forehead rested against his chest.

“Oh honey,” Bucky sighed. He put his hands under her armpits and lifted her onto the counter so she was eye level with him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, crying harder as he enveloped her, his hands rubbing up and down her back as he whispered reassuring words to her. They sat holding each other for a while, Bucky letting her cry it out and Y/N relishing the comfort. As her cries died down and her grip loosened around his neck he pulled back.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please? You’re breaking an old man’s heart,” he pleaded, hating to see her hurting so much.

Y/N chuckled at him calling himself an old man as she wiped her nose with her sleeve. Bucky held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. She let herself enjoy his touch before she sniffled and finally looked up at him.

“When I was talking to you earlier, I felt this weird pain,” she explained quietly. Bucky nodded, listening intently as he held her face still. “That’s why I ran out. I went to Bruce’s lab to test me because it felt like…like a heat,” she sniffled again, looking down at her lap. Bucky nodded again, his hands releasing her face and reaching for her hands to hold. “I haven’t had one in years.” This surprised him. He knew there were new ways of birth control for Omegas now, giving them a lot more options than to just mate and reproduce and take care of their Alphas and pups like the old days, which he thought was great. He just didn’t realize it could be for so long. “And now, apparently, the hormone blockers aren’t working anymore,” she gripped his fingers tightly. “My body is rejecting them, weaning off of them and reverting back to normal hormone levels. My heat is coming,” she sucked in another sharp breath. “I don’t know when, but he said it’s going to be brutal since I’ve been avoiding them for so long. He said I’ll need help and…and I don’t know what to do.” Her voice shook as she looked up at him again. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Bucky could feel her panic and gave off what he hoped was a calming scent. It seemed to help as her eyes fluttered shut and her shoulders visibly relaxed. The Alpha in him hummed in satisfaction as he swept his thumbs over her knuckles. “You don’t need to be scared, Y/N. It’s going to be okay,” he tried to placate her. “Listen, I know earlier you said you wanted a choice, and now your body’s not giving you one.” She nodded, a few more tears slipping out the sides of her eyes. “I…I can help you,” he said, gulping back the lump in his throat. Her eyes snapped up to him, a look of shock on her face. “I know that I’m offering something kinda crazy. But I promise you I won’t hurt you, I won’t make you court me if you don’t want to, and I won’t forcibly mate with you.” He looked her deep in her eyes to try to get her to understand. “But I’d be honored to help you.”

Y/N couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. She had wanted to ask him and now he was offering himself for her to get through this first heat. She licked her lips and contemplated it. “I just don’t want it to ruin our friendship,” she sniffed again, her eyes searching his face for hesitation.

“It won’t,” he said earnestly.

“...Okay,” she agreed.

Bucky smiled as he squeezed her fingers. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Bucky. You’re a good Alpha,” she thanked him, lifting his hands up and kissing his knuckles.

His eyes fluttered shut and he cleared his throat. “You should probably not call me that, at least not right now.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay, honey, it’s fine,” he chuckled. “Whenever it hits you, just call me, and I’ll be there.”

She gave him a warm smile in appreciation. They were playing with fire, and they both knew it deep down, but were denying it heavily.

***

Y/N could feel her hormones changing her body and mind. Bruce had advised against wearing scent blockers as well to help her body fully adjust and hopefully not cause as much pain during her upcoming heat, and that was the first thing she noticed. The Alphas around her, who would normally just give her a friendly greeting or a smile, now watched her hungrily through narrow eyes, giving tight smiles as their noses flared as she passed by. It made her self-conscious enough to ask Bucky one day, “Do I smell bad?”

Bucky looked away from the book he was reading as she plopped next to him on the couch in the common room again, lifting her feet up to rest on his lap. She was touching him a lot more lately. “What do you mean?”

“Do I smell bad? Omegas can’t really smell themselves very well, and since I took off the scent blockers I’ve been…watched,” she looked around the room warily. Bucky’s eyes swept across the other Alphas in the room, noting how they were all giving off territorial scents as they tracked her. He sat up straight, facing each one until they caught his eye and gave off a warning rumble deep in his chest, his eyes flashing dangerously. They each quickly retreated, shamefully turning back towards their previous tasks. The air around Y/N seemed to lift and she felt like she could breathe again. “Thank you, Bucky.”

He sat back on the couch, grabbing his book with one hand and mindlessly rubbing her feet with the other. “No need to thank me, honey. And no, you don’t smell bad. You smell like chai.”

“Chai?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yeah, chai with…” he reached a hand out and grabbed her wrist, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. Her eyes widened comically at his brashness in scenting her so publicly. “Pumpkin. Chai and pumpkin. Like Autumn,” he concluded, setting her wrist down and then rubbing her feet again. He said it so casually that she just stared at him dumbfounded.

It got worse as the weeks went on. Her emotions were haywire, one minute she was calm and cool and the next she was agitated and easily crying at anything. She was nesting anxiously, rearranging her room and her desk in her office, constantly carrying around a large fuzzy cardigan or blanket with her. Her joints were sore, especially in her hips. She found herself eating all the time. Bruce had her come down to the lab each week to check her levels, each time warning her it could happen any day now.

A month and a half later on a Friday night the team got together for a movie night. They decided on watching the first Avatar, a movie Bucky hadn’t yet seen. As it played Y/N kept fidgeting next to him, adjusting her sitting position, wringing her hands in her lap, taking deep breaths periodically. A scene began of two of the characters connecting in a tree garden and Sam yelled out, “Alien tree sex!” Everyone laughed but Y/N bolted out of the room. Bucky watched her run down to her room and shut her door.

He quietly got up and followed her. He could tell just by her scent changing these last few weeks and how it was getting stronger, the chai smell getting spicier, that her heat was fast approaching. She had been very touchy with him, following him around and staying close whenever they were in the same room. He had no claim to her, but it was evident to everyone to stay away from her, otherwise they’d get a growl from him. He was growing more excited by the day, trying to remind himself that he was just helping out a friend, not staking any claim or bond.

When he reached her door he pressed his ear against it, listening for her. He heard her heart rate picking up and her breathing became labored. He could also smell her, more potent, spicy, the scent of unmated Omega making his hormones sing and call out for her. A deep rumble emitted from his chest as he felt his cock hardening. He knocked on her door.

“Y/N,” he called out, just loud enough for her to hear. A soft moan came from the other side. His eyelids shut tight at the sound. It was time. “I’m coming in,” he warned before opening the door. He stepped inside and was hit with the scent full force, making his eyes and mouth water simultaneously. Y/N was laying in the nest she built on her bed in the fetal position, one hand on her stomach and the other in between her legs, not yet touching herself but keeping pressure against her core. “Honey…” he groaned as he locked the door behind himself and walked towards the bed.

“Alpha,” she breathed, her brow furrowed and eyes shut tight. A cramp wracked through her whole body and she yelped in pain. “It’s starting. It hurts…hurts so bad,” she cried as she could feel a small gush of slick pour from her pussy as her body recognized the Alpha in the room.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, I’m here,” he cooed at her, reaching his hand out and running his fingers along her leg from her ankle to her thigh. “Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said while lifting the hem of her shorts up slightly. She nodded and blindly started pulling at her clothes. Bucky helped her strip out of her layers then undressed himself, giving her naked body an appreciative glance. He lay behind her on the bed, cocooning her in his arms and leaning his head into the crook of her neck and scenting her. He could feel himself getting drunk off of her heat. She was sending him into an early rut as his hips rocked against her ass slowly. Y/N keened at that, her back arching and pushing her ass into his crotch further. He moaned at the sensation, his arms tightening around her. “Shh, Omega. I got you,” he said as his voice dropped further, the Alpha coming through more prominently now.

“Bucky…” she sighed, her hands gripping his arms around her. “Please…Alpha please,” she begged, her legs shaking as another cramp hit her.

Bucky moaned at the sound of his name said that way coming from her lips. He started to lick and suck and kiss at the scent gland on her throat, making her gasp loudly. His scent mixed with hers, and they quickly got lost in each other. His hands found her breasts and massaged them firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples and making her hips buck back into him again. He twisted her body around to face him. She quickly molded herself back to him, hiking her leg up and over his hip, her hands scratching down his chest. He tried to remind himself one last time that this was just a friend helping a friend. Then she kissed him.

The kiss broke the dam of hesitancy he was holding to desperately. He quickly responded, his mouth opening and their tongues tangling as they tasted each other. Bucky climbed on top of her, his knees forcing hers apart. His fingers probed her lower lips, finding her clit and giving it all his attention. Y/N’s hips writhed as he riled her up. She watched his fingers dip into her, making her breath stutter. She was already dripping for him so he plunged two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out while his thumb rubbed and flicked her clit.

“Fuck Alpha,” she groaned. “Just like that, shit!”

Bucky smiled as she cursed, her legs shaking against his. She reached down and took his cock in her hand, giving him lazy pumps as he got her closer to her release. He huffed a sharp breath. “Damn, honey, oooh that’s good,” he said lowly. “Give it to me, love, come on, you can do it. Be such a good Omega for me,” he encouraged her as he curled his fingers as deep as he could reach.

The tension in her core finally snapped, her first orgasm ripping through her at lightning speed, squirting slick all over his hand and his hips. She let out a guttural moan, the sound reverberating through the air, making the Alpha inside of him scream to claim her. He had to physically restrain himself as he pulled his fingers out of her. She smiled as she watched him with hooded eyes. He put his wet fingers in his mouth and licked them clean of her slick, his eyes rolling back at the taste.

“Alpha please, I need you. Bucky, I want your big cock inside me…please!” Y/N begged again. Normally it would embarrass her to be acting like this, she would have never dreamed of speaking to Bucky this way. But they were beyond the point of no return.

“Condom first, Omega,” he reminded her in his authoritative voice. “As much as I’d love to fill you up, I don’t think that’s what you want just yet.”

Y/N pouted, but the first orgasm had helped clear her brain a little bit, and pointed to the nightstand next to the bed. Bucky quickly reached over and pulled open the top drawer, finding the box and pulling a few of them out. He unwrapped one and slipped it on himself before settling back between her legs, backing up a little bit. “Present, please, Omega.”

Y/N twisted herself onto her stomach, lifting her hips high and pressing the side of her face into the bed. Bucky almost whimpered at the sight of her sweet pussy, seeing the way he had made her drip with slick, the skin softly puckering in anticipation. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen Y/N, goddamn,” he whispered huskily. She preened at his praise, her ass raising a little higher. He gave her ass a quick slap, making her yelp and shiver. “You ready?” he asked, making sure she was still wanting this.

“Yes, please Alpha, Bucky…please!”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” he slapped her ass again, then grabbed her hips and aimed himself at her entrance. He slowly pushed in the tip of his cock, the fat head catching just past her lower lips, making them both groan. He kept pushing until he was fully seated inside her, letting her adjust to his size. Y/N was keening again, a high pitched tone ringing through the air. After a moment she wriggled her hips, silently asking him to thrust. A deep growl emanated from Bucky’s throat and he pulled back until it was just the tip inside, then snapped his hips back into her hard.

Y/N was making the sweetest noises he’d ever heard as he pummeled his cock into her. She whimpered and moaned, making him hook an arm around her hips and lay his stomach across her back, quick huffs of his breath warming her shoulder. He could feel her walls fluttering around him, making the rhythm of his hips stutter. “Fuck, honey, you gonna cum?” She nodded as her moans got louder. He flipped her back over onto her back so he could watch her release, leaving barely any room between them as he hovered over her. Her hands wound around the back of his neck, scratching his scalp with her nails. “Goddammit, do that again,” he heard himself whimpering this time. She scratched from the top of his head down to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

He reached between their bodies and started flicking her clit as he chased his own high. “Bucky, oh my God,” she squealed against his lips as her back arched and her legs clung to his hips. “Yes, yes, yes, shit…mark me.”

Bucky didn’t stop thrusting but tensed at her words. “No, Y/N, you don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do, with you, Bucky,” she gasped.

“Omega,” he warned her, his eyes flashing. “We can talk about that when I’m not balls deep inside you.”

Y/N tensed at his Alpha command, her legs loosening around him. “I want you to be my Alpha, my mate.”

“God fucking dammit,” Bucky stopped thrusting and leaned on his elbows above her. “Y/N, listen to me, you don’t want that. You said you wanted a clear choice, remember?” Y/N was silent and wide eyed as she watched him, slightly nodding her head. “This isn’t a clear choice. Your first heat in how many years? It’s your hormones talking, honey. And believe me, I’d love to mark you, claim you, bond and mate with you. Stuff you full of me,” he thrust again, making her eyes roll back, “and breed you with my pups. But we can talk about all that later. Right now, I’m here to help you through this, because you’re my best friend, and…I’m ridiculously in love with you.” He finally said it. “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. But when it’s both of us with clear heads and a clear choice. Okay?”

Y/N’s eyes were watery as she listened to him. “You’re in love with me?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Is that all you got out of that?”

She shook her head, “No, but it’s the most important thing. I’m in love with you.”

He smiled wide and leaned down to give a quick kiss to her nose. “Can I continue now?”

She nodded again, and he gave her another thrust to get her going again. Her slick started to make squelching noises as he picked up the pace again, his knot starting to catch at her entrance, his hand reaching to her clit again and trailing kisses down her throat to her scent gland, licking and sucking at it again.

“One day, if you’ll have me, I’ll bite this pretty neck,” he moaned in her ear as her fingers dug into his back. “Make you mine.”

“Yours, all yours, Bucky…Alpha,” Y/N groaned, leaning her head up and scenting him back. Her soft lips and her tongue against his gland had his eyes rolling in his head again and his fingers gripping her hips harshly. “That’s right. Mine. Mine…mine,” he thrusted harder and faster, angling her hips up to hit deeper.

Y/N screamed his name as she finally came, her hands digging into the flesh between his neck and shoulder, scratching his scent gland and making him see stars as he came with a yell, his knot fully inflating and latching him to her as she nearly squeezed the dear life out of him. He fell on top of her, and she held him as he calmed down, both of them panting and sweaty.

A heady scent filled the air, a smell that screamed satisfied mates. Bucky pulled himself to his side, holding her close so it wouldn’t hurt her to move with him, and covered them with the blankets from her nest. Y/N was delirious after this first round of her heat, her head lolling with exhaustion. “Rest, Omega. We’ve still got a few days, and forever after that.”

She smiled sleepily, “Hmmm, my Alpha.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #smut #marvel #abo #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky barnes #omega!reader #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #bucky barnes oneshot

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vamptarot · 1 month

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Your FS’ Most Complimented Trait | PAC

pile one pile two pile three

how to choose a pile . . . choose whichever you feel drawn to or ask your guides to guide your eyes to the one that is meant for you! ᡣ𐭩

pile one : - dongmin

𐙚 : the moon, the high priestess, the emperor, the fool, the magician, the lovers

⭑ their most complimented trait

Their aura is what gets complimented most often! Even if people don’t necessarily have the words for it, they know there is something really unique about your person that simply just makes heads turn. (sort of ironic that Dongmin is the picture for this pile.) Although, younger people might actually compliment their aura.. of course, most of this is in a playful manner and yet there still is something so admirable about your future spouse my dear pile one.

They could potentially have the sort of beauty where you can’t help but admire them with ever loving eyes, getting lost in the moment because even if for a moment the world disappears and you don’t even consider snapping out of it, you just get stuck in admiring them with the shrieking pain of desperation in your chest that screams at you, begging you to caress their face because you don’t want this moment to pass, but you know it will, and eventually the realisation that they are a human and not a work of art hits you.. so you have no choice but to stay still and process your emotions without looking crazy in their eyes.

You know, that sort of drop dead gorgeous beauty.

They have a beautiful smile and a pretty laugh/giggle. I won’t lie to you, they are the sort of person who makes people question their sexuality. Not necessarily by flirting, but by just existing.

Also probably make some people annoyed, because even if they aren’t someone’s type people just absolutely cannot help but be attracted to them, to be charmed. They don’t even gotta try for it! For some of you, you could also react like this when you see them and be around them in general lol.

Though that’s for a very specific subgroup of people reading this pile! Specifically for feminine presenting, short, usually shy and thiccer people who are into men!

The guides present for this reading that I work with showed me a tall, tan, blond dude with green eyes shirtless in summer wear just looking cool. Then the reader being shy as they watch them on their phone and blushing like crazy lol That’s for a very specific someone though, so only take what resonates! (actually some of you reading, or your future spouse, could be non-binary! you go monarch fr)

⭑ how it makes them feel

Unfortunately this makes them very uncomfortable! :(

It depends on who it’s coming from, of course! The uncomfortable feeling usually comes from when they are being complimented by older women and men. By this, I mean people over 35, for some of you 40.

They feel sort of disgusted because they know their thoughts, feelings and intentions. Unfortunately, there is a lot of people who want to use them but your future spouse thankfully sees through their actions and words! They usually tend to be more careful around people like that, not trusting them straight of the bat if at all. (I don’t blame them! I connected to the older people’s energy and most of them are so gross…)

For the most part they are very annoyed. Your person is someone who works incredibly hard when it comes to their work field and for what they have. They are not the sort of person who take things for granted. The goal here is to achieve great things in life, each and every day they work hard to build up a life they can be proud of. To live comfortably, to spoil their future family and their loved ones. (Their mom especially!) Getting compliments on their work is how they know they are doing great and are on the right path in life.. that they can truly fulfill their goals. Yet, they don’t hear any of that. They work hard, and get complimented for their looks. It’s annoying.

They could often look at the compliments as fake, as if it comes from two faced people. Believing them is just something hard to do, at least in their eyes. In their belief most of them compliment your future spouse just to kiss up to them, because they have something to gain. So they could be pretty influential people my pile one. Although, I think it’s important to mention that they tend to be a bit insecure, so they might think these things even at times where people are being genuine towards them!

⭑ what they wish to be more complimented on

The love that they have in their heart! For some of you, this could be related to spirituality as your person is religious. I do think this is mostly relevant if you are Christian, Muslim or have another Abrahamic religion in your heart. Although, for most people this is for romantic love. ᡣ𐭩

In their eyes they love deeply, in a beautiful and honest manner. They are a lover boy. There is a huge wish to be appreciated for the person that they are. They try their best. Every second of the day, even when they fail.

Your future spouse’s heart is very fragile, they are a sensitive soul. So when you get to be with them, please treat them gently. They are kind, forgiving, understanding, polite, funny and someone who wants good for all. They know this too, and so do the people around them. Which can break their heart, because there could be times where their head is filled with confusion about what they could have possibly done wrong. (Nothing btw. Literally didn’t do anything wrong.)

I also do see that in the past romantic partners have unfortunately mistreated them, so they wish to be appreciated in a romantic manner. To be held and told they are doing a good job. That they can never be seen as only a second option, and that they are someone very competent. Honestly your future spouse just wants to be told they are doing a good job in life. That’s their wish for a compliment.

possible ages : 14, 17, 19, 24, 26, 30, 32 [don’t be alarmed, we just have a very mixed crowd of readers in this pile is all.]

— ✮⋆˙ : brazil , tank top , duck , ‘tikkitakka’ , red clothes , bone cracking , count down (1 2 3 4 5) , ‘love of my life’ , leo , mickey mouse , 2020/21 audios , model

my pile one ;; your future spouse is such a sweetheart, ir deeply saddens me that they have to go through something like this! being treated as nothing but a pretty doll when you have strong feelings and a sense of accomplishment can be soul crushing.. but don’t worry, they will get through this!! someone in this pile also has a future spouse who is 19 and a model, their sensitivity came through a lot. (not a bad thing btw) so, I thought that’s really cool and felt like mentioning! either way, if you liked this pac please go ahead and take a look at my paid readings if you wish to!thank you for reading! 🫶🏻

pile two : - drinks !

𐙚 : the emperor, the wheel of fortune, the hermit, the lovers, the world, the moon

⭑ their most complimented trait

The thing they get most complimented on is… their success! Pile two, I do think your future spouse is very successful in life and have achieved many great things that they are proud of. Of course, this can be related to money but it’s not necessarily the case you know? It’s just that they can overcome anything that life throws at them and come back twice, thrice or even more successful.

This is admirable to many people because the way they do it is just almost humanly impossible. Their persistence and power of will is incredibly strong, it’s like nothing can bring them down at all.

It’s like they if you broke their arms and legs so they cannot fight you, they would still bite and not let go of you. If you steal all their money they will use all their resources to earn more and form a community that will make sure that you never do it again.. they go far, but never too far. They always know what to do and how to win, and they do.

Honestly this might annoy people sometimes out of jealousy, but they still cannot help but admire your person. ‘Cuz they are just cool like that, you know?

Those things of course, have not happened but were just examples! Regardless they always know how to thrive, how to live and make life around them fun. They even make living for the people around them easier, so they could possibly spoil their family members and help out their parents with bills and such. (Someone’s guides are calling me to mention this person is someone of colour!)

They work hard while making it look easy!

⭑ how it makes them feel

Unfortunately, your future spouse becomes anxious when people compliment them too much. They don’t mind a few times, they might even agree and feel good to be seen. To be viewed as someone who can get things effortlessly, easily and thrive.. They like to be viewed like that as they don’t like to be viewed as weak and someone who can’t do anything. They want to feel useful.

Their fears could possibly set in when they can feel people’s jealousy.. They might have bit of trust issues, paranoia or trauma for past bad experiences. (different for everyone 🫶🏻) This could make them very cautious as they think people could be planning on taking the things they worked hard for away from them.. Losing everything is one of their biggest fears.

Another one is.. not living up to people’s expectations. They could possibly be scared of people expecting too much from them. That if they were to see the real side of them, the real them, people would be left disappointed. They don’t want to feel like a fraud, let alone be one. So this anxiety is with them pretty much most of the time. It has settled in a place deep inside their heart.

It’s not impossible to get rid of this feeling of course, but they might need a bit of time to heal from it. Possibly professional help. I truly do hope they will be able to receive the help that they need! 🫶🏻

You will play a huge part in their healing journey also, just make sure to not give up your health for the sake of theirs!

⭑what they wish to be more complimented on

There is not much to say here truly, because their wishes are really very simple. Their wish is for the current compliments to continue… from a genuine place. For them to be true.

They want to keep being successful, and be acknowledged for it. Although, they do want to be acknowledged about their emotions too.

They are scared, nervous and quite frankly they have a hard time opening up about this even to their close loved ones. Unfortunately, shame seems to sit in their heart with loneliness as it’s company and it’s the cause of their misery.

They want to be comforted, praised about how good of a job they are doing at controlling their anxiety and keeping their feelings in check. It is something that they are proud of, but possibly need validation about.

They don’t get it because they don’t tell anyone about how they feel, and if they do try to they just can’t seem to open up completely. They know this too, and don’t blame anyone for it. They just crave emotional intimacy and for someone to be a peaceful company for them, a person that can naturally calm them down. Their daydreams often revolve about being nurtured by someone trustworthy.

possible ages : mid 20s & mid 30s ! 🫶🏻

— ✮⋆˙ : ‘please turn of the lights’ , akmu , bolo , playlists , wiping someone’s tears , father-son issues [‘you have to be manly!’ , ‘a real man doesn’t… ‘ and so on], frozen yogurt

my beautiful pile two, I truly hope your future significant other can heal in their own pace as they don’t seem like a bad person, truly. and the very same goes for you, as you could potentially relate at some parts to their feelings.. you are doing good, i am proud of you. you are cool too! i am sorry I couldn’t channel much, they just happen to be a private person. 🫶🏻 regardless, if you enjoyed this and would like to, please feel free to check out my paid readings. thank you for reading!

pile three : - hyunwook !

𐙚 : the empress, the fool, the devil, the hermit, the lovers, temperance

⭑ their most complimented trait

There are two bigger subgroups in this pile, so that’s how I am gonna treat your reading. Please look at which group you resonate with and read for that my beautiful pile three 🫶🏻

Group one is for people with a future spouse who already have kids, group two is for people with a future spouse who is younger! Late teens to early twenties.

group one

So.. I do think some of you already know this, but your future spouse is already a parent. This could be to one or multiple children, although I think young kiddos, not grown up ones.

They constantly get complimented on how good of a parent they are and how much of a good job they are doing. Their hard work constantly shows through the efforts they constantly make and put out in the world so their family can live happily.

Even if they don’t have a lot, they would rather give everything they have to their kids so they don’t gotta suffer and just put up with their situation in quite. For some of you this is about food.. they would rather starve than to have their kids not eat.

Fortunately, for most people in the pile it never gotten that far and the compliments are much more leaning towards how they give everything they can to their kids! To pamper them. so they can live a happy life! 🫶🏻

group two

My beautiful, in your case your future spouse gets complimented a lot on being a good son/daughter to their parents.

The energy here seems really cute because your future spouse is really humble, they get shy easily and just quietly take the compliments or say thank you in order to be polite.

I do see that the compliments are very well deserved though, as they help out whenever they can, especially their mother.

[for those into girls this is just a cultural thing, as you will marry a poc person. that’s a really small amount tho, most of the people reading this pile will be with a man.]

Either way they could help out with things like washing clothes, moving things around, building things just so the burden is less on their mother. This comes from a place of appreciation towards their mother, and for the most part a lot of love too. They are aware their parent(s) already has it hard, so they try to help out wherever they can.

⭑ how it makes them feel

Both groups are about guilt, but very different kinds, so do please choose whichever one you resonated with the most in the previous point 🫶🏻

group one

If you resonated with group one it is very much likely that your future spouse is currently married. Their guilt revolves around not actually loving their spouse, but everyone praising them for being a good parent. In their eyes, a good parent is loving towards their spouse in order to set a good example.

At first I actually wrote father, so this could be a man who grew up in either a household where the mother was respected.. or one where she wasn’t and he hated it. That honestly depends person to person, but the whole point is they love their mom and want to honour her by showing that they were raised right.

Either way, they want to be a father their children they look up to.. they do. [I know that sentence doesn’t make sense, but someone’s guides want me to form it that way so I am keeping it.] They just can’t do it, because they just don’t love their spouse at all. It’s not that they want their kids to hate their parent(s), but they cannot bring themselves to keep doing this for long.. which makes sense, they will meet you after all.

They could also at times when they feel stressed could potentially be more cold towards their kids than intended or just not live up to the mental image they had of themselves in their head. It’s those ‘I love you but I don’t like the way you are acting right now’ moments. Honestly they really just seem to be a new parent, not really used to kids crying or being overwhelming… so they could at times act in ways they aren’t proud of and will forever be ashamed of. Doesn’t seem like a bad person tho, just lots of big emotions.

group two

If you get uncomfortable by sexual things easily, please do prepare mentally or skip this because I am going to be picking up on their guilt in regards to sexual experiences.

So, I do think they have an immense amount of guilt because they do not think they are a good son/daughter/kid. People have this certain image of them, that they are good, angelic or even perfect.. when that’s far from the truth. In their eyes at least.

They do think like this because they feel an intense sense of shame. Your person for sure has a porn addiction, although it’s not severe, it doesn’t stain their mind or influence the way they behave with people at all. It’s just that if they feel the urge, they need to get rid of it. Thus, the guilt, they get called a good kid and they immediately remember their acts and feel sorry. They feel like they are unintentionally putting on a facade. Which is not true in the least, they are a good person. Unfortunately, they just don’t have a good relationship with sexual things.

They feel ashamed about certain kinks they have, even if it’s truly not inappropriate or uncommon. The things they watch, think and sometimes even that they are attracted to multiple people.. even if they are single. They are an insanely loyal person though, do not get them wrong.. it’s just that they get little crushes. Which we all do! But your person truly feels guilty and wishes they could just keep with one crush.. it makes them feel like a scum, if you will.

Truth to be told, they just want to be loved, they need a support net, a lifeline that will make things okay.

Most of these issues stem from trauma, and while I can pick up on several I will not be saying them since it would be disrespectful to tell their vulnerable moments to everyone on the internet 🙂‍↕️ So, sorry! I cannot tell you the hardships they went through. Since they are your future spouse, they will tell you themselves eventually.

⭑ what they wish to be more complimented on

Nothing! This is the shortest explanation out of all the piles in this topic.. because there is truly nothing they wish to be complimented on.

They just want to improve themselves, live a good life and be the person that they strive to be. There is this ideal version of themselves that they wish to achieve, as long as they can do that they don’t really care what people say. Good or bad, they don’t give much importance to people’s compliments because at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter and can change in the blink of an eye if the person just oh so ever slightly changes.

They just wanna be well disciplined, well mannered, hard working, well kept and in shape. They have high expectations of themselves and they wanna reach it. So that’s what they focus on, not what potential compliments they could get if they improve if that makes sense?

Compliments don’t matter much to them, it’s just that they have a breaking limit / point when they can’t handle hearing them anymore. A few times it’s fine, but eventually they will get annoyed by them. Especially if it’s repetitive. It’s like an ick, or they can tell when someones fake. To them it’s one of those little annoying moments in life that you sorta have to politely go through in order to avoid trouble or more bothersome things to deal with. Kinda like washing dishes! (Lol, what?)

possible ages : late teens (17-19), early twenties (20-24), mid thirties!

— ✮⋆˙ : taylor swift playlists , jerseys , papaya (fruit!), cannibal by kesha , hentai / yaoi / yuri , painted nails (red / hot pink) , lovebird , 00s / 10s movies

my dearest pile three, your future spouse is going through it 😞 thankfully they will be able to heal from all of this! I don’t blame them for the guilt that they feel, but please don’t be too harsh with your words when it comes to them! It’s something that will stick even if they like to pretend that they don’t care, ya know?… I am sorry that I couldn’t dive as deep into their guilt as possible but privacy exists for a reason! Didn’t wanna be disrespectful.. Either way, if you enjoyed the reading and perhaps feel like it feel free to check out my paid readings! thank you for reading!

#spirituality #tarot #tarot reading #free tarot reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarotblr #tarot community #tarot blog #tarot cards #free tarot #daily tarot #astroblr #please reblog 💔#not proof read! sorry </3 #111 #888

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iriswritesforyou · 1 month

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His Mona Lisa

Warning - small violence, prejudice against mutants, and maybe some other things? IDK

Word count - 1,889

Description: Reader is a human art teacher at the school. You and Logan had both been giving each other eyes for a while now but things heat up during a field trip.

Charles Xaiver had asked you, a human, to teach at his school for mutants, as an art teacher. You were reluctant at first, not because you were scared of mutants but because you felt as if you had nothing to offer them. Your only gift rested in your ability to paint and draw, to bring the images in your mind to life, and to help the youth do the same.

It was rocky at first, the kids were hesitant to warm up to you and you were hesitant to discipline them but that all changed one day when you introduced them to what you liked to call ‘splat balloon painting’. You had set up a canvas for each kid with balloons filled with paint next to them outside, encouraging them to throw them at the canvases. The kids loved it so much and getting paint all over you was definitely worth watching them smile and laugh. The true solidarity came when one of the kids' powers acted up and you got freezing cold acrylic paint all over you. The kid expected you to be angry like most humans would but you werent, to their surprise you just laughed it off and assured the kid you were fine.

After that day your class was one of the favorites among the students, even the kids who had hated art in previous years found themselves enjoying your class.

And then there was Logan, the combat instructor teacher who plagued your thoughts and little did you know you plagued him as well. It all started when one of your kids came to class all battered up and looking worse for wear claiming it was from Logan’s combat class. You didn't know much about Logan and you didn't know much about his class but you did know that your students shouldnt be showing up to class looking like they just got beat up in an alleyway.

So you marched down into the lower levels of the school determined to scold Logan like a parent would a child.

He was quite surprised to see a young human woman dressed in paint covered overall hanging off one of her shoulders, paint brushes stuck in her hair, and mismatched jewelry stomping up to him.

He had heard about you of course, there was a stir when you joined the campus, people whispered about you with some saying you didn’t belong and others thinking your presence would be good for future relations between humans and mutants, he didn't particularly care. This was the first time he had seen you through and you certainly left your mark on him huffing and puffing about how the kids shouldnt be showing up to class battered and bruised.

If Logan was being honest, despite what most people thought his reaction would be, he wasn't annoyed or angry, in fact he found it a little endearing how you cared for the kids, but he pushed that down and explained to you how it wasn't his intentions but the kids have to learn somehow.

A couple months had passed since then and you and Logan were cordial to each other, you smiled at each other in passing but nothing more than that but the rest of the teachers and even students could see how both of your eyes always found each other in a room.

Things started to heat up when you scheduled a field trip for the students to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and Logan was going with you to help you watch the kids.

Logan knew he should have been paying more attention to the kids but he couldn't help but keep his eyes on you, the way you smiled when you explained the exhibits or how you lit up when they would ask questions. And you couldn't help but notice his watchful gaze, mostly on you and it unnerved you. Why was he staring? Was there something wrong with the way you were dressed? Something on your face?

“Alright I want everybody to find a partner and split up, the sheet of paper I handed you all lays out the entire place and all of the attractions. Please, remember to meet up back here in an hour.” You told the kids as Logan came up beside you and you smiled at him gently “And you and I will be walking around keeping an eye on them.” he didn't say anything but nodded.

You both had wandered over to the Museum history panel and read the date 1870, was Logan born just after that?

“Can I ask you something personal?” He didn't even have to think about it before answering “Yes.”.

“It says this place was founded in 1870.” your voice dropped into a whisper “weren't you born around then?” He snapped his face towards you while you stayed looking away. He wondered how you knew that you and him hadn't had a conversation in months.

“How did you know that?” You now turned to face him completely, faces close and heart racing, he could hear it. Your eyes were locked onto each other and he couldn't help but study how the light danced in them and skin became flushed under the cool lighting, he thought he was making you scared and took a step back. He wouldn't admit it but he didn't want to take a step back. He wanted to take a step closer.

“I’ve been - asking around, about you. I'm sorry, I should have asked you but-.” Unspoken words held in the air.

It was your guilty pleasure to find out more about Logan, the more you knew the more you had answers and you couldn't ask him, he was, well, him.

“You could have just asked me.” He said. You thought he would be mad, furious even but instead he looked hurt. “You're right Logan, and I’m sorry. If I’m being honest you intimidate me a little.”

He raised one of his brows at you, he knew he had that effect on people but he didn't want it on you. “Well, you don't have to be. I don't want you to be.” His gruff voice made you stay locked onto him.

Time could have passed for a hundred years and you both could have stayed right there forever but time didn't care what you wanted as a blood curdling scream snapped you both back to reality.

Over in the Egyptian side of the room one of your kids and a human boy were having an all out brawl with your kid winning. Logan got there faster than you and pulled him off while the human boy quickly got up and spat at the ground by your feet, “mutant.”

That one word was all it took for your kid to start kicking in Logan's arm, trying to claw his way back over to the human boy while he just stood there glaring. You quickly walked over to the human boy and grabbed his forearm, “where are your parents?” and it was as if they heard you.

A lady in an expensive looking green suit and a man twice the size of you came over, the woman with tears in her eyes, hyperventilating and the man getting red in the face with anger.

“Let go of my son!” the man huffed getting up into your face, so close you could see the pimple about to burst on his nose. Letting go of his son you took a step back and he took one again closer to you. “Mutant bitch” It was two words now that snapped Logan into action, as he had been watching the exchange with the kid still fighting in his arms. Quickly, Logan let him go, not caring if he went back over to the human boy and started another fight. No, his only concern was you.

Stepping in between you and the man, blocking him from your sight, they stood toe to toe. Logan was clearly taller and stronger than the man but that did nothing to deter him “And you must be her mutant bastard”. You grabbed the back of Logan's clothes hoping he wouldn't start something “Logan” you gently whispered. Logan may be an angry man but it was never for himself, he wouldn't start anything.

It wasn't until you stepped around Logan hesitantly, still keeping your grip on him and started to try and mend the situation. “Please, ma’am, sir, we are truly, very sorry. And -”, a sickening slap echoed around the now quiet room, he had hit you and Logan wasn't going to let that slide.

In the blink of an eye Logan pulled you back and into the arms of your mutant students who had now gathered around the both of you and punched the guy right back.

Chaos exploded, the woman shrieked as Logan had the man jacked up against the wall as he cried, half of your kids went for the human boy who had bullied your kid and the other half stuck by you as you stood there in shock.

It took ten security members to pry off Logan and the aftermath was quite horrific. Blood was on the walls and floors, but only the man and his boy had seriously gotten injured with your mutant students only having minor bumps and bruises.

They would have hauled Logan off to jail if it wasn't for Charles showing up and sweet talking to them, promising not just financial compensation for the museum but for them personally as well, the human family too.

It wasn't until you got back to the school that you really felt the pain in your upper cheek bone and eye. As you were about to open your door Logan stood there with his fist raised about to knock.

“I’m so sorry Logan.” He didn't say anything back, his eyes not wavering from a particular spot on your face. He reached towards it and gently touched it making you hiss and jerk back “I should have hit him harder.”

You shook your head in disbelief “No, anything more and you would have gone to jail Logan.”

“You need to go down to the infirmary.” He took your hand in his. “That's actually where I was about to go.” but he still held your hand and led you to the infirmary.

“I’m sorry.” The gruff man apologized this time.

“Why?” he stopped and fully turned to you, feeling ashamed for running your first field trip.

“It was a shitty field trip, your first one.” you shrugged but still stayed looking at him “I'm more upset about not being able to tour the museum, I've always wanted to go.”

He felt guilty now, he knew art was your passion and he didn't even think about that part of the debacle.

“I'll make it up to you, I'll take you next time.” He couldn't even believe the words that had come out of his mouth but he wanted to take them back, not because he didn't want to but because he assumed you wouldn't want to go with him. But to his surprise a smile grew on your face “Like a date?”

There was a beat of silence as he gazed down at your beautiful face and gave a small smile down at you “Like a date sweetheart.”

#wolverine x reader #wolverine #wolverine x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #james logan howlett

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dragonnarrative-writes · 6 months

Text

Transferrable Skills Part 1

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Your therapist warned you about superstitious thinking. You've been working on it. In fact, you've been very good at catching it, challenging yourself to relax, and letting things go. Even before this big work trip, you consciously avoided the "unhelpful" rituals and reminded yourself that the little ones were just to make you feel secure, not to actually influence the future across an ocean.

"I'm very nervous," you had told Señor Snuggly two weeks ago. Your worn out stuffed lizard hadn't said anything back, of course. "That's normal, because it’s an international flight. So I'm going to give you a hug good-bye, and you're gonna stay here to watch the house. I know it's not going to change anything, but I'll feel better knowing you're here."

At the airport, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It had satisfied the part of your brain that was looking for one (1) thing to go wrong. Superstitious thinking, but the kind that helped you to relax and listen to music until you boarded.

Now, forced to sit on the floor, surrounded by shouting men with guns, your brain is stuck on your lopsided stuffed animal and blue toothbrush. Of all the things that could pop into your head, why those?

You almost let out a nervous giggle at the mental image of Señor Snuggly using your toothbrush as a shiv to save the day. And then the idea of what would happen if you started laughing right now almost startles you into another burst of giggles. You clap your hands over your mouth and curl into yourself a little bit more.

Next to you, your boss throws you a sympathetic look. "You okay?"

"No talking!" The nearest assailant yells in heavily accented English. You're pretty sure the attackers have been speaking Russian, but you could be mistaken. He brandishes his gun. "You want to die?"

"She needs to go to the restroom," your boss answers.

"No, I don't," you protest. You really, really do, and have for the last two hours. But being escorted out of the room alone seems like enough of a Bad Idea that your bladder can wait.

"No, she does not," the man confirms. "Shut up. Do not talk."

You meet your boss's eyes and try to silently convey, Why are you trying to get me killed?

His doughy face says back, I am a white man who goes to the gym once a week, and I really like the John Wick movies. I have delusions of being a hero. If one man takes you to the bathroom I have the mistaken belief that I can overpower two men with guns to save everyone. Also you're a black woman, so don't you have super powers? I believe in you, queen.

You may be projecting.

Ten minutes later, just as you're wondering if you should suggest a group field trip down the hall to the bathrooms, a series of gunshots rings through the building. The energy in the room goes from nervous to frantic in an instant. Your bladder shuts up. The Russian men start shouting and waving their guns, apparently too agitated to speak English. Two hostages start crying because no one else speaks Russian, just English, French and your half-forgotten, informal, Mexican Spanish.

Another three Russians come bursting in the room, snarling something you can’t understand. They grab at a couple of people, force them to stand at gunpoint and gesture to the rest of you. And then everyone is up and kind of moving in the direction of the door. But you can’t get out of the door because they’re blocking it, but they’re really agitated that the room is still full of hostages. And then some people are being pushed back down to the floor. Your boss ends up sitting back down again. A hard hand closes on your arm before you can get down, and you and four others are dragged out.

The leader says, “You all are dignitaries, yes? Your embassies will send money or they will watch you die.”

This is, potentially, the worst possible scenario. None of the five of you are even remotely important, let alone dignitaries. You’re not 100% sure about most of the others, but you’re an aid. An aid to an aid, really. The blonde woman with the remarkably sharp bob is a personal assistant. Today’s conference was about health data management, of all things.

You decide you’re not going to die with a full bladder. You look to the man holding your arm in an iron grip and point to the upcoming door on the right. “Can I please go to the restroom? I’ll be quick.”

He asks the leader something in Russian, and then you’re being shoved through the bathroom door. He doesn’t follow you into the stall, but it’s still so awkward to pee knowing that there’s a man with a gun waiting for you. You’re so glad you aren’t on your period - opening the wrapper on anything right now would feel louder than it has since middle school.

The door to the restroom opens just as the toilet finishes flushing. You hear a scuffle, an aborted shout, and then something heavy hits the floor. You freeze, heart racing. But then there’s no more sound.

You wait for what feels like an hour but must only be a minute before calling, “H-hello?”

You don’t get an answer. Unlocking the door and easing it open, you peek out and stifle a gasp. The man who had escorted you is on the ground, a pool of blood growing around him. His gun is gone.

You’re halfway through washing your hands before you realize you’re on autopilot.

It takes everything in you to fight down the urge to freeze in place and make yourself inch around the body to the door. When you poke your head out, the hall looks so normal that it makes you dizzy for a second. You try to decide what to do through the anxiety fog. You can’t hide in the bathroom with a dead body, and you probably can’t go back to the big room with everyone without getting shot. You have no idea where the other faux-dignitaries were taken. Apparently, there’s at least one person going around killing people in bathrooms.

You try to think of what your therapist would say in this situation. All of the options feel bad, she would say. So you can’t not do anything because it feels bad. Thank the anxiety for trying to keep you safe, then try to pick the least awful course of action.

“Fight, flight, freeze, fawn,” you whisper to yourself. Fighting is right out. “Flight, freeze, fawn.” There’s a body pouring blood right behind you. “Flight, fawn.” No one is around to appease. “Flight.”

Another gunshot and shouting. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, so you head right.

You shuck off your sensible kitten heels and fervently wish your otherwise sensible pantsuit wasn’t pastel purple in this very beige hallway. Not that a thicker-than-European-average black woman mincing around in a Swiss hotel and conference center would be inconspicuous in a black suit, your mind counters itself. You try to force your brain to shut up, with mixed success.

You wander a good five minutes, reminding yourself not to panic at every locked door you try. The halls are so quiet that you half convince yourself that you’ve gotten out of immediate danger. So of course, right as you’re about the round the next corner, one of the Russians appears, reeling backwards. And then he collapses, a knife sticking out of his neck.

You can’t really worry about that, though, because right after him comes one of the largest men you’ve ever seen. He must catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye, because his head snaps to look at you. You barely register the assault rifle in his hands because his eyes bore into you through the top half of a human skull.

Oh, I’m glad I already peed, you think, staring into the eyes of Death.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man says, growls really. “What are you doing here?”

“I… bathroom? Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate.” you squeak out. Oh, fawning! Cool.

“Price, I’ve got one of the hostages,” he says, nonsensically. “I’ve cleared the east wing.”

You jump when his walkie-talkie - of course it’s a walkie-talkie - squawks back an “Affirmative. Status?”

“She’s up and walking,” the man says, not taking his eyes from yours. “Seems uninjured.”

“Stow her somewhere safe.”

“Negative,” Death says. Before you can panic because what the fuck does that mean? he says, “Bringing her back with me.”

“Copy.”

When he takes a step toward you, you stop breathing. Everything in you is screaming RUN and DON’T MOVE at the same time. His second step in your direction results in a full body twitch. You get the impression that the gun is pointed at the ground, but the only thing you can really see is bone white over a black mask and what might be really pretty brown eyes, but the shadow from the overhead light really makes it hard to tell and your vision is going a bit darkaroundtheedgesandohI’mstillnotbreathingthat’snotgreat.

You’re shocked into gasping when a gloved palm touches the side of your face. The rough material helps you settle into your body, just in time to start hyperventilating.

And that’s when things get weird, because Death says, “Easy, lovie. Settle, f’ me, yeah? Deep breaths, like we’ve practiced.”

Your brain latches on to the familiar command to settle before you can even question why it’s familiar. The way the man makes a long, low shushing noise makes you so suddenly weak in the knees that you stagger where you stand.

And then it clicks. Holy shit. You know this voice. You know these commands. You’ve been listening to and learning them at least once a week for the last six months. He doesn’t even sound that different from over the phone or on a video call.

“There you go, that’s good,” Simon, the dominant you’ve been seeing online, tells you through his skull mask. “Keep breathin’. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

It’s the second time in your life you’ve been surprised out of a panic attack. “W-what the fuck? Si?” you gasp. “What are you doing here? Did you kill that guy?”

“Questions are gonna have to wait,” he says. “Keep breathing. In for four, hold for two. In for two, out for eight. Can you do that?”

“Why are you in Switzerland?”

“Breathe,” he rumbles. “Settle.”

“No,” you hiss, even as your shoulders relax another fraction. The corners of your eyes start prickling with tears.

“This is a double red light situation,” Si says, staring into your eyes. “I know you’re scared, but I’m going to get you out of here. You trust me?”

“You are wearing a skull on your face.”

“And you’re wearing a purple suit,” he answers. “There are people who want to shoot both of us. You get one more outburst, then you’re breathing and following me. Acknowledge.”

What the fuck? “This isn’t a scene!”

His eyes bore into yours. “Might surprise you, but I’m aware. Acknowledge.”

A distant shout makes you flinch. You relent. “Acknowledged. Four in, hold two, two in, out eight. Follow.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting your cheek once. “Stay behind me.”

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #transferrable skills #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #kink fics #this turned out so much more humorous than i expected and is so much fun to write #manic pixie dream ghost

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sapphicantics · 5 months

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Shambles

Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Summary: After Regina’s life goes down in shambles, she calls on the one person who’s always there for her.

Contents: lots of self-hate from Regina, vulnerable!Regina, sweetheart!reader, reader’s an angel, hurt/comfort

Word count: 951

Author’s note: Personally this came out a lot shorter than I would have liked, but it is what it is 🤷‍♀️ Based on the TikTok audio “you came, you called.”

— — — —

Regina George does not do vulnerability.

Vulnerability means weakness and being weak is not a trait that she possesses.

She’s the apex predator and people cower at her feet, tripping over themselves to please her.

Of course, that’s all before Cady fucking Heron steals her throne, steals her friends, steals her boyfriend, ruins her life, and gets her hit by a bus.

Now she’s stuck at home with this ugly ass spinal collar on, she has to take this pain medication that makes her loopy as hell, and she has to rely on her mother for help with the simplest of things.

Embarrassingly enough, she thinks the worst part of it all is that she’s alone.

She knows she shouldn’t care about that, knows it shouldn’t matter that nobody came to see her.

She wishes she could say she didn’t understand why no one came, wishes she could say they’re the rude ones, the mean ones who don’t care, but she can’t. She’s never been an easy person to approach before so why would she be now, after everything’s been taken from her and her life’s been turned to shambles?

Her eyes sweep over the flowers scattered about her room, pity gifts left at the front door by her classmates who clearly don’t mind spending money on her anonymously, but don’t have the courage to show they care in person.

She knows it’s her fault she’s by herself.

She glances to her phone on the blanket next to her, wondering if she really has to be.

The phone goes straight to voicemail and Regina releases a shaky breath as she speaks. “Hey, I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but I’m having a tough time and I didn’t know who else- I didn’t have anyone else to call. I can’t do this — I don’t want to do this alone. I know I deserve this, but please I…,” the phone beeps, her voicemail reaching the time limit before she can finish. Still she whispers into the quiet room, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “I need you.”

Exhaustion starts to creep in and for once, despite hating how tired her meds always make her, Regina doesn’t fight it allowing her eyes to slip shut and sleep to take over.

She wakes sometime later, her back throbbing in pain and a groan escapes her as she attempts to push herself into an upright position only succeeding in aggravating her back more.

“Careful there,” a voice — one that is decidedly not her mother — calls from beside her before a pair of hands are helping her into a more comfortable position. There’s shuffling next to her and she tries to turn and see who it is because there’s no way it’s who she actually hopes thinks it is, but her brace is making it impossible to turn her head so she stays facing forward until finally you step into her field of vision.

Regina blinks, trying to determine if you’re actually standing in front of her or if her medicine is making her hallucinate. “You came.”

“You called.”

It’s a simple response, one that falls easily from your lips and succeeds in making Regina spiral, thoughts of why, why, why, swirling through her head.

Why’d you come running just because she asked you to?

Why’s it so easy for you to come running to her?

Why didn’t you abandon her like everyone else?

Why do you tolerate her after everything?

“How many do you need?”

The question pulls Regina from her head and she looks to the orange pill bottle in your hand before returning her gaze back up to yours. “Just one.”

You nod, shaking the bottle until the pill falls into your palm and you help Regina take it, cupping your hand under her chin while she takes slow sips from the water bottle in your hand.

A single drop escapes her mouth and slips down her chin and you wipe it away with your thumb, your hand warm against her cheek and it takes everything in Regina not to lean into the touch.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she says after a few moments of silence. “You should’ve ignored me.”

“Never, Regina.”

“I’m not a good person, you know. You shouldn’t be wasting your time on me. I’m not worth it.”

“Being mean doesn’t make you a bad person.” You shake your head at her, cupping her cheeks in your hands. “I’m not wasting my time; you’re worth everything to me.”

Regina can’t stop the tears from falling at that. You’re good to her, to everyone really, but always, especially to her; you’re too good to her and she doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve you. She knows that, there’s a part of her that has always known and refused to acknowledge it, choosing instead to bask in it like she always does, but now that she has, now that she’s had all this time to reflect, it’s too much for her.

She’s so mean, she’s such a bitch, and you’re so sweet, you’re an angel even when you shouldn’t be, like now, with her, and she’s consumed with so much guilt.

The tears come harder, a pained sob escaping her.

Carefully, you take her into your arms and she squeezes you tight to her, burying her face in your side. Crying hurts, but she can’t stop. You card your fingers through her hair and scratch lightly at her scalp, whispering soft reassurances to her.

“I’ve got you, Regina. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’m here, I’m right here.”

You press a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

#regina george x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #regina x fem!reader #mean girls 2024 #regina george 2024 #regina george x female reader

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angelcqre · 9 months

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No but can you imagine being transferred to 141 for a temporary period of time. Just for the mission - get it done, get it dusted, whatever. The guys are enamored off the bat, and things quickly go sideways.

Gaz wins you over first - long eyelashes and an easy smile means that you can't help but melt when he rests his head on your shoulder and drapes long, thickly corded limbs around you at base camp. Presses kisses to your cheeks, your temples, nips at your jawline once when he's being especially cheeky, eliciting a shriek and a swat. Wonders what you'd look like on your back, what kind of sounds you make. Maybe tries to leave a few more marks on you - just so the world knows who you belong to, love, you're with the 141 after all.

Soap, of course, follows soon after. Slings his arm around you, scoops you up to spin you around, crooning horrible little love songs to you in his thick accent. Kisses your cheeks, wet and slobbering, pulls you a bit closer than is necessarily platonic, presses his teeth into your shoulder and wrestles you down to the ground in a way that feels way more than platonic and is so uncomfortable for everybody on base except for him - even you. Takes to scooping you up into his arms and carrying you around, just to prove a point.

Ghost takes a bit longer - he's a bit cold at first, a bit gruff. It's habit, why would he care about somebody he'll only know for a couple of weeks, max? Never mind that he always seems to be in the same room as you, heavy gaze always on you, arms always crossed across a thick barrel chest as he tracks you, what you're doing, who you're talking to. He's pulled you away from those he's deemed unsavory, grumbling lowly about people not knowing to keep their hands off of what doesn't belong to them.

Price, of course, is smitten. Why wouldn't he be? Sweet little thing like you, reliable and trustworthy, so capable in the field. Such a record, too, though nobody seems to really appreciate you as much as they do. He's sure to praise you when you're especially clever - a hand on the head, a gruff word, a rare smile that has his eyes crinkling warmly. He cards through your file absentmindedly, humming at your impending transfer, before he pulls out his phone to make a few calls.

You get the transfer papers the next day delivered nice and neat to your cot. Captain John Price, 141, permanent position. And sure, maybe you wanted to go home, wanted to not be stuck in fucking England when you're on leave, but, really, it's better this way for everybody.

#cod x reader #141 x reader #yandere 141 x reader #yandere 141 #yandere cod #idk #my stuff #ideas

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earlycuntsets · 10 days

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11/23/2004 gerard's interview from coffee with cojo on artsucks.com

"It's really cool when people you know, and knew from obscurity become famous in a field you would have never guessed that they were even involved in.

Here is some back story. . .My freshman year of college (SVA) I became fast friends with this kid named Gerard Way. It was our "foundation year" where they lump students into "general blocks" of courses, reguardless of major. The people you are grouped with, you are stuck with, because they will be in about seventy percent of your classes your foundation year. Being that Gerard was a cartooning and illustration major with a line-art-cartoonish-comic-book style, and I had been working at Marvel Comics for the past two years; we had a lot in common. He was actually a really good cartoonist (One of the top in our class).

Well, Gerard was best friends with this guy Todd. Todd was a funny guy, but I didn't really hang around with him. I was a DJ for our school's radio station (WSVA) at the time and I was dating this girl Cheryl.

A few months later I broke it off with Cheryl. . .Time passed and somewhere along the line (I can't remember how long exactly) Todd started seeing Cheryl. Of course that's when Todd would want nothing to do with me (being that he was with Cheryl now), and it's also where I lost touch with Gerard (Naturally, he being Todd's best friend and all).

Well, I would run into Gerard in school over the years from time to time, and I remember seeing one of his cartoons printed in "THE BIG BOOK OF THE WEIRD WILD WEST" which was part of one of my favorite graphic novel series' (THE BIG BOOK OF).

Then in 2003 sometime I ran into Gerard walking down Third Avenue right off of St. Marks Place. I hadn't seen him in like seven years and his name slipped my mind, but I was sure it was him.

I followed him, he was going pretty fast "MARK!" I yelled to him, and he turned around. He looked at me with the expression of searching one's memory to place a face.

"Cojo?" He said, then corrected me "It's Gerard by the way, where did you get Mark from?"

"I don't know, maybe St. Marks? I was just drawing a blank on your name, I'm sorry, but I knew it was you and I had to stop you, how ya been man?" I asked.

I rarely run into old classmates so I offered to buy him a cup of coffee. We were right in Cooper's Square so we hit a Starbucks (If you've never been in Cooper's Square, you will be amused to learn that there are three Starbucks Coffee shops within sight of one another. . .it's really freakish).

I paid for his coffee and we shot the shit. He blew my mind telling me that he's the lead singer for a band called "MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE" and that they just got back from touring Europe. What the fuck? A far cry from cartooning.

I told him about all the weird work I've been doing. It's so rare that I actually run into someone from school who is successful and doing something they love. It was really refreshing. I took a few photos of him as we talked. I'm weird with documenting things- as if you haven't noticed.

We left Starbucks and kept shooting the shit. Having nothing to do he decided to join me for the rest of the afternoon. We walked over to the Virgin Megastore on 14th and he pointed out the magazines his band had been spotlighted in and what music he's into and what not.

It was funny cause he's like: "We're in Alternative Press all the time" and I was like, "Hey, I worked for A.P., I did stuff for the Warped Tour a few years back and actually visited their office in Cleveland!" (-author's note: you will read about this Cleveland trip in the past updates after the site hard launches in Feb-). It was cool cause we knew the same peeps.

I showed him the magazines I was in, and turned to the pages to show him the artwork. One neat thing about being in magazines is that you have a mini portfolio of your work at any magazine shop you walk into in the country.

Well, he invited me to see his band perform at THE KNITTING FACTORY the next week. I told him I would try to make it, but I was really slammed with work so I probably wouldn't be able to make this one, but I'd really like to do an interview with him or him and the band sometime where I could record our conversation.

Like just hang out and shoot the shit with them (cause he's just a down to earth Jersey born kid like myself) and pitch it to magazines afterwords, accompanied by a portrait I would do of their members. He was like: "Man, I wish you had a tape recorder on you now, the stuff I've been saying is good shit, totally printable shit!" And he was right, I really was digging at him about what happend that got him to make the transition from art into music and was getting the "real" answers, not the way a rockstar talks to a reporter, but the way an old bud you goofed off with in drawing class and you haven't seen in years talks to you.

I told him I'd look out for his band in the mags and if I saw something or could help em' out I'd spotlight it or give him a buzz. He thanked me for payin' for the Starbucks and then I caught a train uptown.

Well, September Maxim's Blender did a whole page on MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, showcasing them as the next big thing. Then last week I was out with my girl and we walked by a magazine rack, and on the cover of AP (Alternative Press) was Gerard and his band in some serious Rigamortis style dead make-up.

"No SHIT!" I exclaimed, and picked it up. I explained to Tracy (my girlfriend) the story of how I knew this guy. That night I was flipping through the channels and I came upon MTV and what the fuck, there was a MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE video! Same day as I saw the cover! The song was catchy as hell. I couldn't believe it. I was like: "No crap. . . they are gonna be huge!" Just after their song, a yellow card video started. I guess that's their genre. I asked Ink's brother (17 year old semi-pro skateboarder) Mikey if he knew of My Chemical Romance. He told me he's a fan, has their albums. I asked Jain, and she was like, "Um yeah, they are actually a really popular band! They've been out for a while."

So I guess this update is long overdue, and so is a congrats to Gerard. Keep kickin' ass man! Next time you are back in town, give me a buzz.

Just another day in the life of an Art Juggernaut.

-Cojo"

#not a q&a interview so the most gerardi parts are blue #2004 #revenge era #interviews #artsucks.com #11/23/2004 #mychemlore sent a sweet ask about this a while back #my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way #gerardi parts

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enhastolemyheart · 4 months

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SATURDAY BLESSING | s.jy

pairing. boyfriend!jake x reader

genre. est. relationship, fluff

synopsis. being in a long distance relationship is hard. But, all works out in the end knowing your boyfriend Jake will come right back to you.

warning(s). kissing, jake and yn being cute, none really lmao, not proofread

word count. 0.8k

networks. @.hyfenet @k-films @kflixnet

note. hey!! it'd been a while lmao i forgot how to do this format thing 😭😭😭 but nonetheless, i had this sweet idea and hope you guys enjoy!!

banner by @cafekitsune

As you take your regular Saturday stroll through your favorite park nearby your complex, enjoying the fresh air and the calming ambiance. Birds are chirping, the are children running around, people's dogs are chasing squirrels and frisbees, there are the daily fitness people chasing their 10k steps and of course, you cannot miss the lovely elderly couples on their romantic walks.

Growing up in this area for the last thirteen years, this park has been a second home to you. You knew almost everyone here. You watched this park at its highest and lowest. You loved coming here, anytime and any day. One thing that has only enhanced your love for this place is the amount of time you spent here with your boyfriend of 2 years, Jake sim.

You both spend everyday together, but that has come to a temporary end when you both had to long distance. Jake to move to another state to take care of his sick grandmother. He stayed there longer then he'd expected but you knew and had faith that the relationship between you both would only get stronger once you reunite.

As you turn around the corner of the trail, you stop dead in your tracks tracks when a handsome man steps in front of you. Your handsome man. It's your boyfriend Jake, who you hadn't seen in eight months. Your eyes widen and your feet are stuck in place, your breath hitches and tightens. You can feel tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him.

He is so handsome, his hair has grown alot, looking like a mini mullet which looks so good on him. His eyes are just as bright as you seen him last and that adoring smile not wavering for a second. He opens his arms to you, lips in a smirk, "did you miss me, baby?"

His voice. I think my heart just skipped a beat.

That angelic voice was the final recall that he was here, he was finally here in your sight. You run up to him and he wraps his strong arms around your frame, melting in his embrace and basking in his scent. he release a sigh, almost as a sign of content and relief.

He pulls away, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, lips in a soft smile, "I miss you so much, honey, you have no idea"

"i missed you too Jake, so much,"

And that was it, until he pulls you in for a much needed kiss, his lips in a smile causes yours to smile as well. He holds you very close to him in a gentle but firm grip, not wanting to let go. And you don't want him to, hands on the back of his neck, playing with the grown hair there.

He pulls away, looking into your eyes with full of love, "I love you yn."

you smile ad you kiss his cheek, "And I love you."

As the afternoon turns into evening and the sun slowly sets, You and Jake sit down at one of your favorite spots in the park. You are against a tree, your back warmed up with his chest, arms enveloped around you like a blanket, watching the leaves rustle in the breeze and listening to the birds chirping.

We spend an hour or two just talking, catching up on everything that's happened in the past few months. He tells me that his grandmother is doing much better now and that they hired a woman to take care when his parents cannot. I tell him about my internship at work, it was for the journaling field of a reputed magazine company. We laugh, we tease, and we just enjoy each other's company.

He kisses your temple every so often, and realization dawns upon you that you missed this. You missed this feeling of doing nothing but everything at the same time. You missed his warm hold and his silly, cute laugh, you missed him.

Jake places a kiss on the top of your head before asking you to turn to him, a smile playing on his lips.

"Remember when we first met?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia.

You nod, a smile forming on your own lips and you lean the side your face on his shoulder.

"Of course I do," You reply, giggling slightly. "Who could forget meeting the boy of their dreams in a park on a Saturday afternoon?"

Jake laughs, and you share a look of shared understanding. Your time apart may have been long, but our bond feels stronger than ever.

"I love you baby, till death do us apart." Jake says with sincerity.

you smile only widens till your cheeks are hurting, you placed a gently, shaking hand on his cheek and your foreheads meet.

"I love you Jake, till death do us apart."

perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup ; @heeseungshim (send an ask to be added)

#enhastolemyheart #abby writes!#k films #kflixnet #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #jake sim #jake sim fanfic #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun #jake sim fluff #jake sim imagines #jake sim scenarios #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun x you #jake sim x you

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joonieskinks · 9 months

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She's it For Me (f)

Simon (Ghost) Riley x reader | fluff | around 900 words. short, cute.

AN: I know this isn't BTS, so you can feel free to ignore if that ain't your thang. It was just a little piece that finally got me back into writing after a busy couple months here. Enjoy some Simon Ghost Riley if he's your cup of tea too lol <3

Simon Riley threw his back against the wall for cover, hands manically preparing his gun to unload the next set of rounds. This was supposed to be an easy going mission, a simple fetch and return of some intel. No one was truly prepared for the ambush that came and unexpectedly landed right in the 141’s lap. Especially not Simon.

But you certainly were.

And that certainly was a surprise for the masked Lieutenant when you came whipping up to the wall he was against, blood splattered on your face, your arms brushing.

He knew you had a background in the field, some stealth operations… At one point you were a sniper for a couple missions here and there when a substitute for a man was needed - like today -, but you transitioned into the medic role pretty naturally. It was always your gift, tending to people and caring for their wellbeing. Not that you were getting any younger either, medic was a safe, secure position in the military and you enjoyed it. It was tamer than being out with the boys in action of course, but it had its close calls and moments. It just stuck, earned you the nickname “Stitch” and you made your way into the squad’s hearts. Took some warming up though, especially Simon. Of course him.

You thought he hated you for the longest time, but Soap convinced you otherwise and you eventually learned that he’s just like that. And with almost everyone, but you appreciate who he is more now. The man you’ve come to know and love, much to his obliviousness. Even when you’re practically straddling him in his hospital bed trying to close a bullet wound to his shoulder, holding your breath at the proximity of you two. You’re shaking, you’re sweating, you’re looking into his eyes, his bare face for the first time, at his lips, he’s gripping his hands around your thighs and squeezing when the pain stings too much- Yeah, you think he still doesn’t get it then.

But you can see he certainly does now looking at you in the heat of battle. Your hair’s pulled back into a ponytail, which flows into a braid. You’re in your tactical gear, a little bit of someone’s blood splattered across your cheek. You look up at him, watching him stare at you and your eyebrow quirks up.

“You good, Simon?” He loves when you use his real name, gets him every damn time. He thanks God that he has his mask on or else you’d see the red blush overpowering his cheeks.

“Y-Yeah. Are you?” You smile at him, and all he can think about is how hot you look. Simon has always been attracted to you. He would jump at any excuse to touch you, to ogle you if he can, to be with you - especially when you were fixing up his wound. The image of you above him, legs spread over his abdomen, that’s something he will never forget.

It’s just now that he realizes nope, no one else can have you because you’re his girl. He thinks he’s felt this way for a long time, but seeing you like this when you’re normally the one doing all the healing instead of shooting - Well, he thinks this side of you has sent him over the edge into territorial mode. And you can sure as hell read him like a book right now, his body language and eyes practically begging you to let him touch you.

“Simon, I think we should talk after this”, you touch the side of his mask slightly, looking up into his eyes. He’s not looking away and moves to bring his fingers under your chin, keeping your gaze on him.

“I think we should do something other than talking too, love”. You let out a laugh at the implication. You can only bite your lip and nod, your hand dropping to his chest and eyes to where his mouth would be. He knew what you wanted, and he let his head bow down until your foreheads met. Simon tucked some of your loose hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek, your jaw and down to the back of your neck. He moves to bring his mask up just enough to expose his lips-

“God!” You screamed at the surprise, a bullet cracking against the wall just behind the two of you. Simon hadn’t even realized he had brought you against his chest, his arms wrapped around your body and bringing you two as close as you could with all your armour on.

“We’ll continue this later, okay?” He said sweetly, before kissing your temple and moving around the corner, gun up and aimed.

You smiled and gently touched the spot where his mask had brushed your skin, the kissing noise he had ever so slightly made echoing in your ears. You felt like a 10 year old at the playground, smiling after a boy again. But honestly, it filled your heart up with hope and even more love for the Brit.

Maybe you should join them in the field more often if it means Simon Riley will swoon at the sight of you.

// :)

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art · 11 months

Text

Creator Spotlight: @66sharkteeth

66 is a comic artist and the creator of City of Blank, a WEBTOON original series. They worked in the game industry at companies such as 2K Games before entering the field of comics. They began their career in comics at Tapas, where they worked as an editor and lead typesetter, before being signed to create their own original series on WEBTOON.

Check out our interview with 66 below!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

The short answer is yeah, I’ve definitely had one. Overall, I feel like doing a lot of style studies during that time and trying to use new brushes helps a lot. In addition, because I’m a comic artist, I feel like writer’s block is in the same field, and with that, I’m really fortunate that I have an editor that I can work with, who helps me a lot there. Whenever I am stuck at a plot point in my comic, I can always go to my editor, who helps me hammer things out.

What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

Animation. Of course, everyone loves animation. I went to school for game art and design and even did some animation courses, and I am just not cut out for it. I don’t enjoy the process, and I am not good at it. Animation is beautiful, and I admire people who can do it. I’d love for my work to be animated some day, I’m just not capable of being the one to do it haha.

Warm tones or cool tones?

It really depends on the scene! Especially in my comic, I really go with both of them, just depending on the moment in the comic. There was a major character death, and that scene was almost black and white. But normally, the comic is very vibrant, and people really like it, so when I switch it to a more cold tone, it makes the scene that much more impactful.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

Honestly, my current comic, City of Blank, takes up 100% of my time. But recently, I did a plushie campaign where I worked with Makeship through Webtoon to design the plushies and do a little bit of marketing for them. So that’s fun and different from what I normally do!

When planning a comic or a story, what do you do first, character design or character outline?

Normally, I have a design, and I fall in love with the character design, and then I find a role for them. That’s how a lot of my characters have started. Also, that’s how I’ve been tackling new projects that I want to work on after City of Blank. I just came up with a character, and I’m trying to make a story around them.

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Meeting readers and realizing how much my work means to some of them. Some of them have started their own comics, having been inspired by mine. Learning that I’m part of the reason they started their own comic journey, the same way I looked to other inspiring comic artists to start mine—it means the world that I’m in that position now.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Let’s see…bright, sparkly colors! I think just trying to make sure that the booth is eye-catching. I ended up making a big shiny banner for New York Comic Con, and I know many people stopped by because it caught their eye and they’re curious about what it is. I know a lot of people are selling merchandise of popular media. Even just a banner of your brand to get them curious about who you are and maybe interested in seeing what you make and taking a business card so they can look you up later. It’s better than someone just buying a pin and forgetting you exist. Lastly, put out a tip jar. You never know just how generous your fans are feeling.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

I’m mostly involved in the webtoon sphere! I am definitely inspired by my fellow Webtoon creators, @lark-wren, who created the series Woven. I love their work and seeing them interact with their readers on Tumblr. Same with fellow Webtoon creators, @miranda-mundt-art and @astrobleme-enterprises, who created Lovebot.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, 66! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @66sharkteeth and follow their webcomic, City of Blank, over at WEBTOON.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #webtoon #webcomic #comic artist #66 shark teeth #city of blank

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mrsparrasblog · 4 months

Text

All too well

The first chapter to this post

TW: Angst

Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.

They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.

This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Still didn’t quit, love?”

“Still an idiot, I see.”

“You love it, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.

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

“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.

“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”

“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Go away, Price.”

“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.

“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”

“Ouch, kitten has claws.”

“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”

“As if you were able to, little missy.”

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

“Guess we’re working together on this.”

“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”

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

Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.

“Can you call me John?”

“Why?”

“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“And I hate it,” he admitted.

“Can I ask why?”

“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”

“Not a good relationship with your dad?”

“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”

“I get that.”

“Your old man is shit too?”

“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”

He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”

“We won’t.”

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

When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.

“What did you do?”

“Stupid muppet deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”

“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”

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

“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”

“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”

“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”

“No lucky bloke even tried.”

“Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“John.”

“I said, do you want to lose it?”

“Yes.”

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

“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”

“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, love.”

“I love you too.”

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

“What do you want, Dad?”

“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

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

“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”

“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.

“I said I don’t love you.”

“But you said yesterday that you love me.”

“Are you really that stupid?”

“John.”

“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”

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

SAS Enlisting Test

Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted

Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted

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

“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.

“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”

“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”

“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”

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

Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.

He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.

He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?

“Kate, what do you need?”

“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.

“Yes, why?”

“You know the new colleague I complained about?”

“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.

“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”

“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”

“Deal.”

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

You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.

“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.

“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.

“Yes, why?”

“I told you about Kate.”

“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”

“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”

“Hades, these games are stupid.”

“John Price takes part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”

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

Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.

“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.

“Which of them is Hades' team?”

“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”

“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.

“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.

“There he is.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”

“An all-girls squad?”

“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.

John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz

A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe

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patroxlos · 2 months

Text

home base . ch7

"friends who use their phones in bed" - 5.4k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

can be read as a stand-alone. However, if you want to read their first kiss, you may do so for added context.

master post. ao3 link.

previous: ch6. "friends who are stuck together"

next: ch7. "friends who are for the people"

cw: EXPLICIT. First time fellatio. frottage.

Two weeks after your first kiss, you and Kenji get more comfortable with your new dynamic as friends with benefits.

And even in the heat of things, you still find something to argue about.

---

Los Angeles, Ten Years Ago.

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

You look up from your dinner as your Auntie Emiko asked. She sits across you at the dining table where you sat beside Ken. “Hm…I think we might stay in again for the day. Right, Ken?”

Ken is in the middle of shoveling some more grilled salmon into his mouth when you redirect the attention to him, and he nods in agreement, his voice muffled. His mom and you have matching looks of disgust on your face as he tries to speak with his mouth full.

“…yeah. It is stay-in day tomorrow,” you confirm.

Emiko looks puzzled. “But Kenji doesn’t have practice tomorrow. Don’t you guys want to head out to the city?”

“We don’t really know what else to see,” you say a lame excuse. In response, she curiously looks at you then at Ken, who finally swallows his food.

“You both rarely leave your room lately when last month you were bouncing to explore the whole state.”

“Training really tires me out,” Ken smoothly responds, rolling his neck from side to side in an exaggerated stretch. “Leaves me with no energy to want to do anything else. After a week on the field all I want to do is lie back.”

She pauses momentarily as she looks at her son, and you force yourself to maintain a calm demeanor. Is she onto us? “Maybe…when you have your days in, you can leave the door unlocked and open?”

Before Ken can protest, you subtly step on his foot to tell him, Don’t complain.

“Is this because you feel lonely, Auntie?” You ask sweetly. Emiko looks a bit taken aback by your question. “I understand it might feel like you’re all alone in the house when Kenji and I are holed up just playing video games together.”

“I…I guess it does…” She let her guard down slightly around you. She can expect Kenji to pull something, but you? The daughter she never had?

“How about tomorrow morning we head to brunch? Just the two of us! We can even schedule a last minute appointment to the salon,” you spun the dream mother-daughter bonding day. “We’ll be back in time for Kenji to wake up at noon.”

“Hey I don’t wake up—”

“Of course we can spend the morning together.” Your auntie places her hand over her heart, touched. All business with the door and how they spend their time completely forgotten.

She does not need to know what you and Ken do in your spare time nowadays.

And with the door locked for the evening, she definitely does not need to know how the sweet little girl she is so fond of has her head in-between her son’s legs.

“What was that earlier?” Ken asks, breathless. He sat up by his arms as he looks down at you, tracing with his gaze the path your lips followed, edging closer to the front of his boxers. You left the lights on, and it reflects off your trail of saliva on his inner thighs.

You don’t respond immediately, busying yourself with the soft, flexible skin good enough to bite. You expect everything about him to be taut and firm, an athlete to his core. It’s cute that he can get so pliable when your touch melts him like so. You anchor your palms at the back of his legs to hold him open as you continue to tease his thighs.

You hear your name tumble out of his mouth when your tongue swipes a fat line at his growing bulge, against the salty wet spot of his boxers, his muscles tensing under your hold. “You really want to talk about your mom right now?”

“I…I— oh…” He can’t think straight when you start nuzzling your face against his swelling size. “Shit—”

You continue to lick him through the fabric, his musk filling your senses. You try not to giggle when you feel him twitching eagerly against your tongue. You lift your head to give a small kiss once more to his thigh. “Mind taking it off?”

You’re still fully clothed, in your sleep shirt and shorts, compared to him. Shakily, he pushes himself to sit up properly. His hands reach for the elastic band of his boxers, trying his best not to look too eager when you help him tug it off his legs. Without the fabric keeping it down, his dick jumps to attention, long with a slight curve towards his right.

“Take it slow…” he encourages you, his voice a little breathless as you lower your head closer to his wet tip. He deeply inhales when you clasp your left hand around his base. His eyes screw shut, the anticipation making his toes curl.

A pleasant prickle crawls up his spine when he feels your warm, moist breath hit the head of his cock.

Your hand slides up along his thick vein, following his natural curve.

And as soon as it started, he feels a draft of cool air down below when you move away.

“Wait.” You back up and reach for your phone nearby on the mattress. “What’s the next step again?”

Ken freezes, and opens his eyes.

You’re busy tapping out your lockscreen passcode.

Ken flops backwards to the bed, his palms covering his face in frustration. “Oh, fuck me—”

“I’m getting there,” you snap as you scroll through your digital notes.

He groans impatiently, his erection growing painful as it stands proud in the air. His legs are still spread wide. “Just put your mouth on it, I said I’ll teach you.”

“And I said to wait.” You crawl back between his legs but your gaze doesn’t lift from your phone. “Maybe you should sit at the edge of the bed and I’ll kneel down? Or maybe sideways in case you want to finger me while we—”

“The current position is fine…” He tries to sit back up but you push him down with a hand on his chest.

You begin to mutter to yourself, running through the steps you have written down. “Mmm… warmed you up, yeah…consent?” You look up from your phone to Ken expectantly.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, you did have my consent,” He hisses.

“Okay…hm…take of your shirt, kiss down your chest, tease your inner thighs…leave a few marks?” You glance down, at his legs. “Haha, yeah, nice—”

“Are you done? Because I’m growing soft here.”

“Hey, keep it hard, I’m doing my best,” you whine.

“Well all this talk isn’t helping.” He swats your hand away and successfully sits up, his elbows resting on his knees as you still sat in between his legs.

You roll your eyes and put down your phone to remove your shirt, exposing a modest bra. “There, have something to look at.”

“Can you at least take off your—” He does not finish the sentence as you throw the bra at his face. Grumbling some more, he tosses it to the side.

Normally, fooling around with you isn’t so clinical. Ever since your first kiss by the pool almost two weeks ago, it’s hard to remember a time when his hands aren’t on you. Your normal trips around town are now defined by rough makeouts in alleyways and end in hurried handjobs at the backseat of his jeep when you cannot wait to get back home. Your touch is an aphrodisiac at this point, and he fears he may overdose. Maybe you should have had separate rooms, because he is starting to feel the recklessness of his libido.

Because when you asked him the previous night if he could help you learn how to give a blowjob, he nearly skips training earlier today in anticipation for what is to come.

Apparently, no one is going to come at all now with how Type A you are with something as instinctual as oral sex.

Normally he will find it cute how your nervousness can translate to overpreparing. However, he needs to figure out how to turn your brain off.

“Okay, look…” He reaches forward to touch your bare shoulder. You hesitantly rest your phone on your lap as you hear him out. “How about you lie down and I eat you out? How about that?”

“No,” you reject him immediately, like how you rejected him the dozen other times he asked, offered and even begged. “I want to do you first.”

Even if you’re both equally stubborn, Ken still tries to be patient with you. Slowly, he shifts closer, pressing himself against you as he begins to rub your arm. “But, princess, how are you going to know whether a guy is doing it right if you won’t let me go down on you?”

“I don’t think this arrangement allows for pet names,” you huff, and he rolls his eyes. “Besides, I don’t get why you want to that much.”

“Baby,” he sees your eyes twitch, “it’s because you taste good.”

You slap his knee, flushing from the obscene compliment, but you can’t say anything back.

Taking it as a good sign, he lets his hand drift a bit lower to your waist, giving you a light massage. You let out a deep sigh, and you lean forward to give him a kiss, reaching forward to clasp around his girth. Your other hand loosens its grip on your phone, and it falls off your lap and onto the ruffled navy bed covers.

He groans into your mouth deliciously with every shallow pump. Your lips are gentle, yet deliberate, and he marvels at just how good you move against him when you were a stammering amateur weeks ago.

You pull away, slowly, yet your hand still loosely holds him. Your thumb lightly swipes the slit of his head and his mouth falls open.

“You always make me feel good,” you murmur. “I want to make you feel it too. Wanna prove to you that I deserve it. You teach me so much so I want to show off what I now know.”

“God you’re so stupid.” He laughs without malice. “You don’t have to blow me to prove anything. I already told you that if the guy likes you enough it’ll always feel good.”

“You don’t like me that way though,” you point out. “So I need to prove my skills.”

“What skills?” He makes a face. “You can’t automatically expect yourself to be the blowjob expert on your first time. Just feel it out and avoid showing teeth. It isn’t something you can just practice—“

You turn away.

“…you practiced?”

“…I wanted to impress you?” You fiddle with your phone. “I studied really hard and tried to apply what I learned—“

“Woah woah, did you— did you, with other guys—“

“No! No, I never…I practiced in other ways.”

Neither of you understand why his body sags with so much relief when you say that, or why it mattered if you did anyway.

Still, he needs to pry. “So…how?”

“God I’m not telling you, you pervert.”

“Your hand is on my dick.”

You smear said hand against his face, his pre-cum wiped against his nose. He laughs and grabs your wrist with his left to keep your hand there.

“What are you doing?” You tug to get your hand back but he keeps it right in front of him.

“Just look at me.” His exhale tickles your fingertips.

And without breaking eye contact, his mouth opens a bit more, then closes softly over your index and middle fingers.

“K-Kenji?”

He responds with a gentle suckle, his lips passing your second knuckle. You feel the rough texture of his tongue run over your fingertips, pressing flat against its pads. A soft whimper leaves you, as a familiar heat unfurls from deep within. He notices the way your legs unconsciously shift closer, seeking pressure to alleviate your spreading itch. He chuckles, and the vibrations run through your body and settle just below your navel.

The entire time he continues to watch you, catching every quiver of your lip and twitch of your brow. He’s let go of your wrist at this point, yet you hardly notice, your eyes fixated on how your fingers disappear into his mouth.

You only break from your stupor when he scrapes you with his teeth.

“Ah— Kenji!” You flinch, and he chuckles as you take your fingers out his mouth.

“And that’s what I mean by no teeth, except it’ll be ten times worse down there.”

You cradle your hand to your bare chest, then slowly nod in understanding. “Okay…I see…”

“Did it feel good?” He smiles wider when you glare back. “Don’t be shy, baby, tell me.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sweetheart.”

He lives to make life harder for you. You push down your pride. “Yes, Ken, it did.”

“How good?”

“Don’t.”

He grabs your waist to pull you onto his lap, and you hardly resist. Your legs fold beneath you as his own straightens out. You stabilize yourself on his shoulders, and as you properly sat onto him, you feel his dick wedged between your abdomens. You can feel him throb against your clit, only separated by two thin layers of fabric.

His head dips down to the top of your breasts, his hair tickling your nose as he begins to lightly kiss the start of your cleavage. He stretches the band of your shorts before snapping it back against your hips. “You’re overly dressed.”

“H-Hngh… can’t take it off tonight until— ah, shit—let me taste you.” Your stubbornness will be the death of you.

“Dumb rule,” he sasses back, before he cups your right breast to push it upwards to his mouth.

You nearly cry out, the hot wet sensation on your nipple and the soft massage of your breasts are a dangerous combination. You rock your hips forward on his lap, greedy for more. His teeth grazes your nipple in response, hissing harshly when he feels the underside of his cock scratch pleasantly against your shorts.

Your head is thrown back, and your eyes are tightly closed. His hair brushes against your chin as his tongue makes its way to your left breast. He smiles against your soft flesh, rolling your hard bud around in his mouth. “Shit, you’re getting close from this?”

You sharply tug his hair, pulling him off your chest, too embarrassed to admit that you are. Yet, instead of the annoyed grunt you expected, the pain on his scalp causes Ken to let out a strangled moan. Oh, you are stunned, he’s freakier than you thought.

He grins, bringing his left hand up to cup your face. You rest your cheek in his palm and your lips part, sighing at his foolishness. He rests his thumb on your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up further. “Your turn.”

“Hm?” You hum against his touch.

“Show me.”

Maintaining eye contact as he had done, you gently kiss the tip of his thumb, until you take it whole into your mouth.

“Oh fuck…”

His right hand grasps your hips to guide you into a rocking motion on his lap. You pant as you grind against him, the head of his cock tapping against your belly button. He presses down on your tongue, as you lean more into his palm for support. As your panting slows, you begin to suck lewdly on his thumb to stop yourself from being too loud.

You are close. Shit.

And he can tell from your sloppy pace as you grind against him without any real rhythm, to the fucked out look in your eyes. The only goal bouncing in your empty brain is release.

“Can’t even talk?” He teases. His balls feel heavy and painful as you suck his thumb, and he aches to feel your mouth elsewhere. “Open wider, princess.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, showing you’re not as out of it as he expected you to be, but still you comply. His thumb slides out, replaced by his index and middle finger. Your eyes flutter closed, puckering your lips to take more of him in. You gag as his fingers nearly brush the back of your tongue, and the sound shoots straight to his dick. You haven’t even fit it fully in your mouth yet.

“Fuck…god you’re so hot. You’re also so, so stupid.”

You let out a garbled protest, still every bit of the fighter you are, yet he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth until your front teeth nearly scrapes against the base knuckles. Your chest heaves at the sudden intrusion, yet you clench your thighs at the sides of his lap.

“Do you think I’d do this for just anyone?” He interrogates you, fully knowing you can’t respond. “You’re so smart, baby, but god can you be so fucking clueless.”

The other hand on your hips slides towards your shorts and dips low over your clit, rubbing circles over the fabric as you reach your high. Ken’s ego swells as you suck his fingers harder, your senses going overdrive from the pleasure.

“You’re getting off to this?”

His fingers are spat out of your mouth when you fall forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder, trembling from his touch. “Fuck you, Sato. Fuck you fuck you—“

“That’s it, ride it out…” He coos, kissing the side of your head as he slips his hand into your shorts to directly stroke you through your orgasm. He lightly pinches your bud. His other hand pats your hair soothingly. “You can bite, I don’t mind.”

You sob as your teeth bluntly sinks into his shoulder, and he groans from the pain and the dampness that coats his fingers. His dick weeps against your stomach from neglect.

You raise your head as he cleans his fingers with his mouth, groaning at your taste. “Oh god—” he curses even if this is far from the first time he has had a sample of you.

“Don’t…be dramatic,” your words are slightly slurred as you calm down from your high.

He kisses you in response, his neediness spilling out and his grip digging into your waist. He swallows your gasp as he guides you down to the mattress, caging you down with his body. “Please…” He murmurs against your lips when his thumbs hook on the band of your shorts.

He begins to pull it down by an inch.

You roughly push him away by his shoulders, appalled. “Motherfucker, you’ve been trying to distract me.”

“And I was so close too,” he grumbles when you catch him, and he tries to lean back in but you hold him at arm's length, your hands splayed against his defined pectorals. “You get all ditzy when you’re in it.”

“No.”

“Fuck, please just a little taste…” He lifts one hand from your shorts to cup your mound, your wetness having seeped through the cotton. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

You kick him lightly on the shin in response, and he rolls his eyes. You push him off of you, and he does not resist, but he still pulls you close to his side as you sit up on the bed. His hand tries to dip once more into your shorts but you stop it just as it tries to pass your navel. “I just came.”

“That’s even better.”

You shove him back down onto the bed, trying to resume your position from the start of the night. His dick blooms an angry red now, frustrated from being ignored for so long. “That looks like it hurts,” you comment as you settle in between his legs again.

“It does,” he confirms, pushing himself up by his arms as he lays bare, all for you.

You have always been intimidated by his length, and every time you hold it you worry at the back of your mind just how on earth it would even fit if you two ever cross that point. Of course you’ve never told Ken— he doesn’t need to know you’ve deeply thought about how he might feel inside you, or how the curve of his dick may pulse against your walls.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” He snaps you out of your thoughts. Ken tilts his head to the side, a bored look on his face.

Flustered, you shake your head immediately. “I-I just need a moment to…”

“You know, there’s a way to ease your nerves.”

“Really? What is it?”

“So the first step involves my tongue against your—“

“Ken. I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“You know how many girls would kill for their boyfriends to go down on them?” He continues.

“Well you’re not my boyfriend.”

“Exactly, because boyfriends don’t go down on you. And with your type for guys I definitely don’t think any of them would be as generous as me right now,” he says as if it is fact. He’s conceited, but wouldn’t you also be if you were in his position?

Think about it. No one else can give you as good of a first time as he can, because no one knows you like he does. He pities you, really. Because no other guy would be as patient and careful as he is with you. They won’t take the time to hold you the way he does, to feel for what you like and push your comfort zone. No, all other boys just care about getting their dick wet, and they won’t even look half as good as him. You’re too pretty to settle for anyone less than himself. Six foot and still growing. A wide chest, slim waist. And he knows you know he’s a lot bigger than average. He has visible abs for god’s sake, does that mean nothing to you? It’s terrible but he is such a good, giving best friend. He could’ve left you alone to kiss mediocre boys and eventually marry a mediocre man, most likely someone your parents picked out for you. And you’ll never know the touch of what you deserve. He’s doing this for you. So at least when you go on to pursue whoever can give you that mediocre love, you’ll always know there’s someone better out there. It’s cruel to curse you to a perpetual state of wanting, but he can’t help it. You deserve the world, and you need to feel what it’s like to have it all, even if you may never find what you had with him ever again in someone else.

And Ken wishes he can say all that to you, but he knows you’ll just bash him on the head for even implying that you can’t get any better than him. Except he won’t even be implying. You just don’t get it— he can’t imagine anyone being good enough for you.

Unaware of his internal monologue, you search around for your phone. “Okay, but let me run through my notes again—”

You reach for it when you spot it close to his foot, but he reaches for it faster. He grabs your phone and flings it towards the sofa.

“Ken what the hell—”

He pulls you back between his legs, stopping you from chasing after it. “Don’t.”

“You could’ve broke my screen!” You nearly shout even if your phone is safe amongst the sofa pillows.

“I’m a varsity baseball player. You think I don’t know how to aim?”

“I can’t believe you—”

“Do you want to suck my dick or not?”

“I do!” You say weakly. You really do.

“Then you need to get it in your head that you’re being an idiot.”

You try to slap him but he grabs your wrist.

“Not every guy is blessed to have a pretty girl willing to even touch them, and if it’s you? You’re practically doing charity. All you have to do is bat your eyes and drool a bit and they’ll come before your lips even touch the tip.”

You’re…oddly reassured.

“Sweetheart,” he continues, sarcastic. “Why do you think we’ve been messing around this entire time?”

You’re confused, but answer anyway. “Because you’re helping me learn how to—”

“Wrong.” He cuts you off. “We don’t have to makeout all the time to teach you how to do it.”

You think for a moment. “Practice?”

“We cuddle.”

“Okay, that doesn’t mean anything—”

“Exactly. It doesn’t mean anything. So why are you trying to tackle this like I’m grading you?” He gets you there.

You actually don’t know what there is to be nervous about. And why are you giving him the satisfaction that he does make you nervous?

“Listen, we’re not dating, and I’m mature enough to admit that this ‘teach ‘me’ thing is just an excuse. You like this. I like this. We’re friends who make each other feel good and there’s nothing weird about it.”

His grip loosens on your wrist, but holds it just the same.

Your shoulders slump, realization sinking in. Kenji is right.

He presses your hand onto his chest, and gently, he drags it downwards. You swallow, still scared, but you let him take charge. “I’ll talk you through it,” he murmurs. “So don’t think.”

You feel him purposely brush your fingers against his toned core, just to let you feel how deep the ridges are. You snort, and give him a look to say ‘really?’ Arrogant prick. Show-off.

He ignores you, and soon, he guides your hands to touch the pulsing base of his cock. “Gently,” he whispers, “It hurts a bit now, since all your stalling gave me blue balls.”

“That’s not a real thing,” you scoff, but you soon lower yourself down with your face a few inches from his tip.

“I thought I’m the one teaching you. Your only job right now is to listen.”

“Did you shave?” You giggle, not listening at all as your other hand gently cups his balls. You feel his freshly-shaven stubble.

He hisses at your touch, and nearly bucks into your face, but he steels himself with his waning self-control. “Shut up. I thought it’ll make you more comfortable.”

“Is that why you were nearly late to practice today? I thought you just needed an extra long shower after what we did this morning.” You give him shallow strokes down his length, light enough to ease the blood pressure that built up inside.

“Just…if you want to tease a guy…try licking around at the base first,” He changes the subject, entering his teaching mode.

“Hm…” You nod in understanding, ducking your head down lower just for him and slowing the shallow pumps of your hand.

Tentatively, you lick the bottom of his base, tasting the salty tartness of his sweat. You close your eyes to gather a sense of courage, and soon, you let go of your shame and carefully begin to give him long, broad strokes highlighted by the roughness of your tongue.

You hear a strangled noise from above but you paid him no mind, getting lost in his flavor. The masculine musk clouds your judgment and you bump your nose against his pubic bone. With one hand still cupping him, you brought your lips down towards his balls, planting an open-mouthed kiss on them before carefully putting them in your mouth to suck.

You felt him jolt beneath you, your name ringing out to the room. “Oh, fuck—“

His fingers brush against your cheekbone when he rushes to grip his legs. His nails dig into his skin while you remain oblivious to his waning self-control. Because who taught you that? Not him.

His mouth is locked open. His chest rises and falls as he tries to maintain a semblance of sanity. Ken is so pent up right now, he’s worried he won’t be able to hold himself back from releasing prematurely.

But here you are— dick resting on half of your face, as if measuring your head against it, with your mouth on his balls and your sultry eyes lazily blinking open.

You whine when he hastily pushes your face off of him, and his dick twitches from the sound.

“Don’t look at me like that,” his voice is hoarse.

“Was it bad?” You ask, confused as to why he suddenly made you stop.

“I-It’s okay. It was good.” He’s going to blow any minute now. “I…I need you to take it slow.”

“Okay,” you nod, leaning back down.

“You can, uh, kiss up the shaft from the base,” he struggles to remember how to talk. “Then when you get to the tip—“

You push your head close to his crotch before he can say anything more, and he nearly keens when your longue laps at his protruding vein, following it up to his tip. Your head is spinning, eager to please and to draw out even more sounds from his throat.

You let a puff of hot air hit his angry head. You look up for assurance.

His cheeks are dusted with a light pink, eyes unfocused, but he still manages a weak nod. “Yeah…yeah, just spit on it.”

You gather your saliva in your mouth, and let it dribble on his cock. He curses, louder, and you’re glad that the Satos are rich enough to afford thick walls.

Because when your lips finally envelope his head he loses his filter.

“Shiiit….Baby that’s it, just take it—ah— take it slow… Remember to breathe through your nose, yeah? Yeah— oh fuck babe…”

You struggle to pay attention to his words, but you slacken your jaw to accommodate his size and try to breathe as he said. You are getting dizzy from how full your mouth is. You rub your own thighs together, your brain swimming with the thought of this inside you, and you clench over nothing.

Mindful of your teeth, you try to move a bit further down, greedy to see how much more you can accommodate. He notices, and immediately his hands reach for the sides of your head to stop you. “D-don’t push it…” he slurs. “You’ll choke.”

Your eyelashes flutter, and you feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You don’t mind that at all.

Still, you’re realistic with yourself. You can’t make it to half of his length without gagging, and you feel him twitch in your mouth when you do. He likes it when you’re noisy.

You grab his hips to hold him down, aware of how he’s struggling not to buck up into your mouth and fuck your face. His fingers massage your scalp as a thank you for the added leverage.

“Does your jaw hurt, princess?” He reaches for the hinges of your jaw. His thumbs press down and lightly massaging your face. “Fuck— I can tell by that dumb, pretty look on your face that your brain s’all empty.”

You hollow out your cheeks, and your tears fall as you bob your head up and down dutifully. He wipes your tears as they slide down your cheek, cooing about how cute you look.

“You’re so good to me.” He brushes your hair out of your eyes. “You like sucking dick this much, huh, girl? — Oh god, that’s it. Drool some more for me sweetie… You’re a natural. Wouldn’t have guessed from how much you hate shutting up.”

You let your bottom teeth poke out slightly, and he pulls your hair as a warning. “Hey, ah-ah, behave.”

Your tongue is placed flat against the bottom of his cock, warm against his pulse. He lets out a relieved sigh, patting your cheek condescendingly. He can’t help but want to be a little mean to you. “See, baby? Don’t even need me to tell ya what to do. You lying about being shy? Only wanted to hear me say how much I like you?”

It’s so embarrassing how much you needed him to say more.

His grunts grow staggered, and his breathing picks up. He tugs harder on your hair as he gets closer to his release. The burn on your scalp feels so good when you’re deprived of oxygen.

“I-I’m…gonna…” He tries to properly warn you. “Don’t swallow. You’re not ready.”

He tries to pull your head off of him but you’re stubborn, sucking down even harder. You hate it when he tells you not to do something.

He curses out your name. “Fuck, I’m being serious, don’t—”

You flinch at the hot release that hits the back of your throat, and you sputter around his cock as the amount quickly overwhelms you. It leaks out the corners, dripping down his length and onto the sheets.

He wishes he can take a picture of your fucked out, tear-stained face. You look up, his cum still on your lips when you take your mouth off him. “That good?”

God, you’ll be the death of him.

A/N: hi i hope this wasnt awkward it's my first time publishing anything explicit fsdihodfs.

this was about to be a 15k word chapter with three acts: bedroom, gas station, first time— they all take place one after the other. the chapter wouldve been called "friends who run a marathon" bc it was just marathon sex lmao i wanted to convey that the two kind of fall into this hedonistic routine That is Actually Kind of Bad for them! still...15k words of you two fooling around like who wants to read that in one go (i did. i rlly did. i rlly didnt wanna split this chapter but it narratively makes sense fsdiohdfs)

i was starting to feel bad about how long it will take me to update if i stuck w the original plan so I decided to split the chapter into two and reserve the gas station and first time for chapter 9! next chapter we will go back to the main timeline. i dont want to write them too much in their teen years bc they are a lot crazier when theyre young adults, which is why i wanted to cram it all in one long chapter.

#kenji sato smut #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x you #ken sato x reader #cross posted on ao3 #first time bj

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 5 months

Text

Five More Games

Batter Up Chapter 3

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You haven't seen your boyfriend in over two weeks, your longing for Joel interrupts a FaceTime session. Warnings: smut, baseball talk, FaceTime mutual masturbation, pining, softness, Joel cum's all over his stomach Words: 3,000 A/N: These two have previously appeared together in 18 Seasons and Golden Corral. I wanted to write something super self indulgent to celebrate the month anniversary of posting my first fic Golden Walkway on here. I also want to shout out two people who helped me in this whole writing process. @ohheypedrito for being my steadfast fellow obsessor and idea bouncer offer and @justagalwhowrites for her very sweet response when I asked for words of advice that ultimately made me take the big step to hitting post.

Masterlist Playlist

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Joel has internally struggled this season: unhappy with his new team, unhappy with his new city, unhappy with the game he loved. Unfamiliar fans, unfamiliar apartment, unfamiliar restaurants, unfamiliar grocery store. The only familiar thing for Joel is you, taking the train down to the city whenever you can, staying in his aforementioned unfamiliar apartment making it seem more like home. You of course knew you couldn’t go to any of his games and openly root for him, but you were happy to watch the game on his couch in his new home, welcoming him back with a hug, smelling the sweat of the game still on him… Joel always far too impatient to shower at the stadium, too excited to get back to you.

The two of you stuck together living a secret nobody knew about, the two of you never admitting the love you had for each other was growing into something loud enough that soon everybody would hear. What would your dad think? What would Joel’s old teammates think? What would his agent think? What would your coworkers think? What would Sarah think?

For eight months you and Joel have done this alone, the only people privy to your relationship is whomever might look over at him placing his hand on your thigh at a restaurant, a couple of close friends of yours, and maybe the doorman of Joel’s apartment building delivering packages addressed to you. No, you didn’t want to live in this lie, but to stay with Joel and know him like you do, all of the struggles were worth it.

When he got off the call letting him know that the Philadelphia Liberties signed him to a one year deal, Joel didn’t call his daughter, he didn’t call his brother… he called you. Playing in Philly meant he would only be an hour and a half train ride away. How many more times could you make empty excuses as to why you needed to fly back home to Texas? He knew the toll it was taking on you personally and professionally, he couldn’t give you up, but he also couldn’t live with himself always seeing how tired you were as you stepped out of the airport and into his car.

The worst part of all of this… Joel was having one of the best seasons of his career. Articles and reporters all repeating over and over how at his age he was having a banner year. Joel loved a challenge and he loved to take his frustrations to the field, playing harder and more focused than ever.

He wanted to share his accomplishments with you, publicly. He wanted to see you as a part of the wives and girlfriends group, knowing how much you’d stick out against all of the preened and fancy clothed wives, never understanding why they dressed up the way they did to watch a ball game in the Summer heat. He wanted to see you cheering louder than anyone else as he rounded the bases after hitting a home run. He wanted his teammates to tease him for having a picture of you taped up in his locker. He wanted to see you waiting for him in the tunnel after the game wearing his jersey. He wanted to be able to call you his to anyone who’d listen.

He hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in almost twenty years. Once Sarah’s mom left, he gave up dating and significant others to focus on the game and being a dad. Maybe there was just never anybody worth it, but you? You were worth it, and he hated that he couldn’t show everyone how much he loved you.

——

“Next week’s the All Star Game, you still able to head home?” Joel asks as he watches you change into one of his old Capitals shirts you took as a sleep shirt.

He loves FaceTime. For years he rolled his eyes at the idea of having to look at who’s he’s talking to… until he learned he can watch you go through your nightly routine in your bedroom. Now he gets to watch you apply your face lotion, feeling a bit like a voyeur looking in on your world from your MacBook screen. He especially likes FaceTime when you angle the laptop on the bed to show him your body as you make yourself cum while chanting his name and how much you miss him.

“Yeah, so far so good. Can’t believe we’re doing this, especially seeing as you’re in the actual game and we’re letting everybody know the night before. What happens if it’s not good and it affects your g—”

“I’ll be fine no matter what. It has to be done, I don’t know how many times I can tell Sarah my agent is texting. I think she knows something’s up, she’s too smart, she knows I don’t have friends,” he sighs. “How do you think your parents are gonna take it?”

“I think my mom will be cool with it, she always liked you, especially because of Sarah. My dad? I don’t know, I think he’ll be fine but I also think he’ll have a lot of reservations about us and how it’ll look once everyone finds out. He’s going to drop some business words and worry how it might end up as tabloid fodder amongst baseball people, and I fully understand his issues.” You get into your bed, moving the computer to lay next to you, Joel’s face and broad shoulders taking up most of the screen, it’s such a pitiful replacement to having his warm body next to you. “I don’t know, I wish we could just not do this but be able to do everything like normal people.”

“There’s nothing normal about this, I’m in a hotel room in Seattle and I just got done eating $45 grilled chicken and brown rice from room service. You just closed your blinds with a remote in your apartment with a view of Central Park. We’re not a normal couple sweetheart,” Joel gives you his reassuring smile, his dimple pressing into his skin, you wish you could touch it. God, you miss him.

“I know, I just wish things could be more simple.”

“I know baby, me too,” his smile faltering as he hears the longing in your voice.

“I think I just really miss you… it’s been almost two weeks.”

“It has, we’ll be together soon. Just have to wait six more days.”

“Five more games,” you whisper.

The two of you always finding it easier to break it down in games. Only 45 innings. Only five trips for Joel to step on the team bus and head to the ballpark. Only five games worth of you checking your phone for updates.

“Five more games,” Joel’s voice dropping. “You able to watch tomorrow?”

“Don’t think so,” you try not to let the disappointment in your voice show as much as it does. “I have that dinner with the group in from Toronto. I’m hoping I’ll be home around 9, and the game starts at 4 there… I guess I might be able to see maybe the last couple of innings.”

“Mm, pretty sure I’m just DHing tomorrow, so should be in for the whole game.”

“Save your home run for the last inning please.”

“‘Course,” he smirks. “I’ll swing for the fences.”

“Joel—“ you whisper out.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I wish you were here right now.”

“Me too, your bed’s always so comfortable. Sick of these hotel beds.”

You bring the neck of Joel’s shirt up to your nose and inhale. “Your shirt no longer smells like you, I need a new one.”

“I’ll have one for you next time baby. I won’t take this one off.”

“You can take it off now.”

“Yeah? Why do you want me to take it off?” Joel’s eyes get darker.

“I want to look at you while I touch myself, so take it off.”

“Love how bossy you get.”

“Preaching to the choir.”

“Very funny,” he leans forward, pushing his laptop farther down the desk to give you a better view and removes his shirt.

The two of you are well versed in the proper set up to have this type of experience over FaceTime. No bright lamp behind you because your body will be blown out by the light. Make sure you angle the screen the right way at the right distance so you can still see each other’s faces and bodies. Joel usually chooses to stay on the couch or in an office chair when he’s in a hotel room, allowing him to sit up and jerk himself off while he can still watch you. You always place your laptop on his side of your bed, laying diagonally across it so he can watch you touch your pussy while staring at the screen.

You love seeing him shirtless, the way his body fills out in all of the most broad and right places. His shoulders are so wide and muscular, connecting to his toned and strong arms, his muscles never being overbearing and huge, just the perfect size and super capable of hitting a ball over 250 feet. The smattering of hair across his chest trailing down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts. His stomach, you’re obsessed with his stomach, it’s so soft, your favorite feeling on earth is laying your head against it. The perfect amount of softness filling out his athletic midsection. Joel’s body perfectly encompasses him, soft and rugged, broad and safe.

“You’re staring again sweetheart,” Joel’s voice blinks you out of your daze as you ogle the square of him on your screen.

“Sorry, I just really like looking at you.”

“I know, and I like looking at you.” Joel leans back, placing one of his arms behind the couch, his other hand resting against his thigh. “Now, let me really see you. Take m’shirt off.”

You nod and move your laptop to its customary location so Joel can see all of you. You take his shirt off leaving you bare for his eyes to roam across your body from over two thousand miles away.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, wish I could rub my hands all over your soft skin. Wish I could smell your hair, wish I could taste your skin. Miss you so fucking much.”

“What would you do to me if you were here?” Your voice barely above a whisper, your body aching for his touch.

“I’d rub my tongue up and down your neck,” you move your fingers to your neck and begin to trail them across it copying Joel’s words. You close your eyes and pretend instead of hearing Joel’s voice coming from a tinny set of computer speakers you’re hearing him from across the bed before he touches you.

“I’d move my mouth down to take one of your nipples into my mouth.” Your hand grazes down your body to one of your breasts, grabbing your nipple and pulling at it.

“Fuck baby, yes, grab your other tit, play with ‘em,” you open your eyes at the gruffness of Joel’s voice. His hand is still behind the couch, the other has moved from his thigh to cup his half hard cock through his shorts.

You begin to push and pull your tits apart and together, rubbing your nipples as you stare back at Joel holding eye contact through the computer.

“Looks like your pussy is drooling all over your sheets, lemme see how wet you are.”

Your hand goes down in between your legs, you pet yourself making sure to bite your lip, something you know Joel likes as you touch yourself. A groan spills out of Joel’s mouth as he watches you bring your soaked hand up, spreading your fingers to show him how your wetness stretches across your digits. He angles himself up to pull his shorts down, his cock standing hard and solid, you can’t take your eyes off of it as his hand wraps around his length. He begins to stroke himself, as you put your hand back to play with yourself.

“Wish you could smear yourself all over me and watch me jerk off, wish you would spit in my hand—,” Joel spits in his hand, “so I could fuck my hand until I cum all over your pretty face.”

Your back arches as you watch Joel lick a bit of spit up from his bottom lip, his eyebrows wrinkled in concentration as he smears the spit all over his shaft and begins pumping.

“You’re so pretty, god I miss you. I miss feeling your body pressed against me, I miss sucking your tits, I miss fucking you.” You can’t stop staring at the screen, your fingers paused and resting on your clit. He’s beautiful, the way his muscles in his arms tense as he strokes himself, the way he snarls as he twists his fist around the head, the way he can’t stop staring at you through his laptop screen. “You miss me babygirl?”

He knows what his words do to you, he knows that if he can’t touch you he can at least talk you through it. He’s so thoughtful, not stopping at anything to make you happy, to think about you, to care for you. You hate that you aren’t even close enough to be in the same time zone.

“Yes,” you whisper, if you were any louder you might just start to cry. “So much.”

“I know, I know, fuck,” Joel stops jerking himself off, “I know,” blinking the lust out of his eyes, his big brown concerned eyes planted on his screen. “You okay?”

You didn’t want to do this, you wanted to get off with your boyfriend, shut your laptop lid, and go to sleep. Now? Now you miss him so much you’re naked with your hand still in between your legs and sniffling away tears alone in your bed.

“I am, yeah, I will be. I’m sorry, it just really hit me how long it’s been and I guess I’m just nervous about everything we have to do. I don’t want to lose you…” and at those words and the fear that gets planted inside your heart, you pull your fingers away from your cunt.

“We’re going to figure it out sweetheart. M’not losing you.” Joel follows you and unwraps his hand from around himself. “It has been long, but we’ll have almost a week together next week.”

“Five games?”

“Five games.” The softness of his voice and the reassuring smile he gives makes your stomach twist.

“I’m sorry.” An apology, you’re almost embarrassed by your juvenility, missing your boyfriend so much you almost started to cry.

“Baby, you don’t have to apologize, believe me, I understand.”

“Did you still want to…”

“I’m only happy doing what you want to, sweetheart.”

“I want to show you how much I miss you.” Your hand snakes up your body to start petting the area between your breasts, the place where Joel always like to nuzzle his face in and smell your skin.

“Fuck, okay sweetheart.”

“Five more games until I can feel you inside me.”

“Jesus, getting right back to the point, aren’t we?” He smirks, his eyes follow as you snake your hand down to back in between your legs.

“I’m efficient,” you bend your knee to give Joel a better look as you begin to rub circles along your clit.

“Fuck sweetheart, you look so fucking good,” he groans, wrapping his hand back around his cock. “Fuck yourself with your fingers baby, pretend it’s me.”

You moan as you stick two fingers in, slowly pushing them in and out, ignoring how poor of a substitute they are for Joel’s cock.

“Good girl, look at you. My pretty baby, I love you so much.”

His eyes soften as he watches you get lost in fucking yourself. You love how you can tell just how much he loves you by his big, brown eyes, even on your small laptop screen they shine bright.

“I love you,” you whimper as you reach your other hand down to begin rubbing your clit. Your fingers working overtime inside you and on your clit causing your orgasm to build.

“Love you baby, so much. Love watching you do this for me,” he grunts as he fucks his fist faster.

“Baaaby,” you breathe out, your heart beginning to rapidly beat, the swirls around your clit quickening. You’re a quivering mess on your bed, staring into your computer screen as you feel your orgasm show.

“Oh, you’re close, can see it pretty girl, you gonna cum for me? M’gonna cum for you,” he grits out as you watch the hand against his thigh tighten its grip against his skin. He’s close, his jaw going slack, his tongue resting in between his lips, his brows furrowing deeper. It’s a sight you’ve seen so many times now, most of your FaceTime sessions ending like this.

“Cum for me,” you whisper as you orgasm, your pussy squeezes your fingers, your clit pulses against your finger, you fight the urge to shut your eyes because you need to watch Joel as he begins to spurt thick ropes of cum all over his stomach. You love how he looks, biting out swears totally blissed out, his cum pooling against the plush skin of his stomach.

He swears as he grabs his shirt and cleans himself up, you smile as you watch him, feeling like you’re spying on your own boyfriend. You love FaceTime.

“You’re smilin’ quite big,” he chuckles as he tosses his shirt next to him, and pulls his shorts back up.

“I like to watch you, that’s all, you’re so handsome.”

“Handsome, hm?”

“Yep, always thought it, and now I get to look at you whenever I want to.”

“Lucky you, huh?”

“Lucky me. Only five more games until I see my handsome boyfriend.”

“Five more games.”

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #baseball au #baseball fan fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou au #baseball #baseball joel #batter up

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silentcryracha · 3 months

Text

❍ ‗ Spotlight (lee know) ‗ ❍

Pairing : Lee Know x f reader

Summary : An upcoming work event stresses you out of your mind. But someone's there to help you relieve some of that stress, and who would've thought that it would be that one annoying co-worker?

Genre/ Warnings : it's a light co-workers enemies to lovers thing, talk about stage fright, mention of anxiety and bad breakup, talk of being chated on, some insecurity (brief and not specific mention), smut with plot (ONLY 18+), protected sex (UNBELIEVABLE?), soft dom minho of you squint, the whole this is a bit angsty, ending is open (is it tho?)

Word count : 10k (oh brother)

A/n : Has it ever happened to you to be SOO pent up and stressed that you could punch a wall and cry at the same time? Yeah, exactly. How about we fuck instead! Lmao, enjoy

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It all started with that damned research plan. 'Why the fuck did I even agree to that?', that's pretty much the same question that's been going through your mind for the past week.

Your boss held a meeting some time ago and asked your unit to bring up some ideas for an upcoming convention that will be held a few hours from your city. Several major companies in your field would be presenting their own projects to some big names in the industry plus some extremely wealthy people, that actually put their money into good causes.

So you did what you had to, took a couple of days to research and came up with an idea. You knew it was a good concept, and that you were good at your job. You were pretty confident. However, you were part of a team. A small one, but still, you were not in charge of anything in reality.

Which is why you nearly had a heart attack when during the meeting your boss actually decided on the spot to create a whole concept based on your idea. With you in charge.

Panic flooded your mind as you tried to reason with him, going from 'I can't do it' to 'We're a team', literally anything to try and make him change his mind. Even downplaying yourself, for how much it hurt your ego. Just because you have great ideas doesn't mean you want to have the literal spotlight in a livestreamed work convention!

"This unit has been doing a good job for the past months, while still being experimental. I think you deserve it. But I need you to prove yourselves this time, too. So what do you say, y/n?"

And with that, he got you. Why lie. Not only because you desperately wanted to get ahead in the company, but also because you knew for a fact that the rest of the team wanted it as bad as you did.

Were you really going to be the villain and turn down such an occasion for everyone, just because of your own overthinking? So, in the end, as unsure as you were, you still accepted.

And you couldn't lie, the prospect of getting recognition and a better working position fueled your motivation. You would've still been sick 10 minutes before the event, you were sure. 'But that will come later', you tried to convince yourself.

Fast forward to two weeks later, that's how you found yourself stuck to the office computer at 8 pm. On a Friday night. In your twenties. All the documents, research, presentation, audio, script…literally everything was ready and finalized.

You were pretty sure that if you asked your co-workers to check it one more time...you would've had the whole computer thrown at you. So you did it yourself, of course. Again and again.

You were the one who would have had to go up on a stage and explain it all, weren't you? You were so worried that your stage fright would make you somehow forget it all and even managed to fuck up reading from the script.

The fourth, or maybe fifth, coffee of the day being the only thing keeping you going. Aside, maybe, from the adrenaline. You were tired, yes. You should be going home, checking that your suitcase was properly packed and your tickets ready for your morning flight. Yet your anxious and perfectionist mind just wouldn't let you relax.

"Aren't you going home?" a voice interrupted your flow of thoughts, making you roll your eyes. You didn't even have to look to recognize that voice.

"No. But you should." you responded, with annoyance in your voice.

Lee Minho. Your 'second in command', as per your boss words. You have never quite spoken, before the past two weeks. Which sounds incredibly unrealistic, being in the same small work unit and all, but it was true.

Your team was an efficient one, but definitely not a tight one. All seven of you were literally picked out from different bigger divisions in the company, some even from other office buildings.

Straight away you were told that your team was going to be an experiment. This was roughly ten months ago, which wasn't much, but for a bunch of people who were essentially stuck in a limbo, uncertain of where they'll end up the followung year, was more than enough.

Being honest, you weren't particularly eager to get close to any of them. Whether it was an off-vibe or just you being kinda closed off and shy, you weren't sure. Regardless, you kept work life and personal life well separated.

Lee Minho, for example, was someone who you could never quite read. You may not have been very social, but you were observant. You knew that he was good at his job, often getting extra meetings and praise from higher ups. He was also quite standoffish, kinda like you. You did see him a few times talking with some other people at the company's cafe. But you didn't know them.

Then, suddenly this presentation thing happened, and just like a bunch of new class mates, the team was forced to collaborate. And boy, did you learn to know him quickly.

Your guess that he was good at his job was correct, but he was also extremely cocky while doing it. Your boss put you in charge, and yet it seemed that his life mission was to contradict and question you in almost everything. And the most infuriating thing was that he had a point, each time.

You lowkey hated him, because he would just add fuel to the fire. More details on a topic, some script corrections, visual corrections to pictures and illustrations. He seemed to be wanting to do stuff his way. But so were you, so it was kind of a silent war between you two. During one of the earlier briefs, you even mentioned it to your boss, and he just said to compromise. Easier said than done for two stubborn, competitive, people.

"The janitor will come soon to kick you out." he insisted, as he took his long suede coat from the hanger.

"Then I'll tell him to give me a few more minutes." you replied, squeezing your eyes for a moment, desperately trying to moisten them a little after spending so many hours in front of the computer screen.

"You said that forty minutes ago. Everyone else has already left like, two hours ago." his voice didn't have any particular feeling to it, but the fact that he was so insistent made you snap.

"Listen, Minho" you started, turning your head back towards him, "Whatever this is, quit it. I don't need an assistant, nor someone to remind me of the office's rules and I certainly don't need your concern."

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes, an annoyed smirk on his sharp features as he crossed his arms and leaned back on the wall.

"And I'm not claiming to be any of those. Are you forgetting that you're the head of the team and it's your job to make a decent presentation for all of us, right" he responded, the scolding tone suddenly making you feel uncomfortably small. He was right, of course you knew it.

You stood up, the desk chair rolling slightly behind you.

"Of course I fucking know-" your venomous response was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the big glass window of the office.

You and Minho both turned your heads and saw the two janitors staring at you. The older man who knocked looked quite annoyed and like he didn't give a single fuck about intruding, but the younger one behind him had his eyebrows raised and looked to be hiding an amused smile, clearly enjoying the show.

"I'm sorry miss y/l/n, we can't wait any longer to close up the floor. It's the company rules." he said, absolutely not meaning the 'sorry' in the slightest. And you couldn't blame him, really. You wouldn't either.

So you took a deep breath, faked a polite smile and nodded.

"Yes, I understand. I'll just pack my stuff and be out in a couple of minutes. Promise." he just grumbled a 'sure' while the younger one behind him gave you a tight lipped smile in embarrassment, then walked off.

You side eyed Minho as you turned back to your station to pack up your stuff and turn off the computer. Making sure to send yourself a copy of the slide presentation and the speech script. Well, another copy of the previous five files, anyway. Can never be sure enough!

'Don't you dare say anything.' you warn.

'Wasn't going to.' he replied, 'That was embarrassing enough already' you picked up on the humor in his voice, but it didn't make you smile in the slightest. You just wanted to get rid of him and go home to stress yourself until tomorrow, in peace. Maybe with a drink or two.

You noticed him waiting for you, for some reason, but you decided to ignore him and walk out of the office without sparing him a glance. He quietly followed ad you approached the elevator, and then pushed the button for the first floor before you could.

You stood there in silence, annoyingly aware of his presence not even a meter behind you.

"Why do you hate me?" Minho spoke with a curious, yet careful tone. His question took you by surprise, and also embarrassed you a bit. Did you actually even hate him? That seemed like a strong word for whatever you had going on.

"I don't 'hate' you." you answered, making the word, "You're just extremely annoying." he snorted a laugh.

"Well, at least you're honest." the irony in voice didn't escape you, and you instantly felt... quite bad? Qauite honestly you didn't know how to reply, so you shut up instead.

The elevator doors finally opened at the first floor, which was already eerily quiet and dark. Except for two security people that waved both of you off as you exited the building.

"Well, y/n, get home safely. I'll see-" he started to talk while taking a step back, but you stopped him, gesturing with your hand.

"Wait, Minho" he stopped in his tracks, clearly surprised. Your eyes wandered on the street, watching the cars pass by, as you rubbed your clothed shoulder, both from the cold and the nervousness.

"I'm sorry. I don't actually have a personal problem with you. And even if I did, my behaviour was unprofessional and rude. So I apologize." you created a small puff of hot air as you talked.

"Y/n-" you interrupted him yet again, not on purpose, but you kept going, in hopes of finishing off that awkward interaction.

"Also, I'm not your boss or anything, but I wanted to tell you that you did a good job. And, while it does cost a small piece of my ego to admit it, you gave some very good inputs. So, thank you." you cleared your throat a bit, still not looking back at him, even though you could feel his gaze on you.

Minho bit back a smile, and was about to answer, thinking you were finished, but suddenly the mood shifted and your voice started to tremble. His smile dropping fast and a confused expression taking place as he listened.

"I'm not usually like this, I-I...' you bit your lip, trying to regain composure, 'It's been a shitty period lately and this was kind of the last straw you know? I fucking hate speaking in public, goddamn it." a bitter and shaky laugh left your lips, your eyes becoming shiny.

You must've been out of your mind, you thought. How did you go from being a bitch then opening up and crying in the span of ten minutes? With Lee Minho of all people?

You were just about to wrap the conversation up and start trying to catch a taxi, but the cherry colored- hair man suddenly started to walk closer. You finally looked up, mainly in confusion, and saw just the shadow of a smile and kind eyes.

"'It's fine, y/n." he paused, "How are you getting home?'

You sniffled, blinking a few times, "I'm gonna catch the first cab that passes from here, I don't live that far but I can't be bothered to walk in the dark right now." he nodded in acknowledgement.

"My car is parked about two minutes from here" he pointed behind you, "If you allow me I'd like to offer you a ride." you stood there for a second, trying to rationalize the fact that your co-worker with whom you had beef until five minutes ago was offering you a ride. So you relied on humor, to lighten up the situations.

"I don't know, are you going to kill me?" he widened his eyes for a second, genuinely looking panicked for a second. He started to wave his hands around awkwardly.

"No, woah-" he spoke, "If you don't feel safe-" your small laugh instantly relaxed him, as he lowered his arms back down and giving you a side eye in the process.

"I'm sorry. But you can't honestly blame me, with everything going on in the world." you justified yourself, starting to walk to the spot he pointed out, "Just so you know, my mom and best friend have my location. Just in case."

"Ah, ah, ah." he faked a laugh as he followed behind you. The light of a grey, seemingly spotless and quite expensive looking, car blinked a couple of times.

Minho opened the passenger seat for you, then circled the car back to the driver's side.

The car ride was pretty much silent, and a light but definitely present layer of awkwardness filled the air. He asked for your address, put it on the navigator, then didn't speak again.

You joked about his car looking expensive and he snorted a laugh, nodding. "It did take a couple of years and a promotion to pay off, yes."

Then silence..again.

Thankfully the car ride was quite short, as you anticipated. Only made a couple of minutes longer by the traffic of the people getting off work. Late, like you two, you imagined.

He pulled up in front of your building, parking the car to let you get off.

You truly had no idea what came over you, but nonetheless you blurted out "Do you wanna come up for a drink?"

Minho's mouth went slighly agape, as he was so obviously trying to suppress a smile. His cocky aura making it actually hard to understand if he was about to mock you or seemed pleased.

"Oh?" and that made it so much worse, making you scramble for a response.

"I mean- it's not even nine pm, and tomorrow it's gonna be the end of a jurney of hard work." you justified, "I'm still gonna celebrate by myself, by the way. I was just offering." the last sentence being almost muffled, which actually made it funnier for him. You looked kinda cute.

"You know what, boss number two," your head snapped at those words, along with him turning off the car engine, "I think I may use a drink. I wouldn't have any at my place, anyway." he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile as well. You both got out of the car, and walked to the building's entrance as he locked it witht he distance key.

"And what do you have waiting at home, if not a glass of wine at the end of the day?" you joked as you entered the building. You started to walk up a set of stairs, so he just followed, a few steps behind.

"Three cats?" the humor in his voice actually made you turn your head to read his expression.

"Really?" you smiled. He nodded prudly, still following behind you.

"Oh yes. My pride and joy, if you will." you laughed, finally stopping on the second floor, in front of a white door.

"Wouldn't have made you out to be a cat's man" You unlocked it, turning on the light as you invited the redhead inside. He politely took off his shoes by the entrance, following your example, and bowed his head.

"Well, you don't really know me, if we're being honest."

"True." you nodded, a bit embarassed, "Please, give me your coat. It's warm here, I promise." you smiled. He thanked you, handing you the item.

He looked around while you went in another room. The apartment was definitely a nice one, even if not the largest. It looked cozy and quite artsy, but tastefully so. Lots of CDs, a couple of paintings, a nice tv, a leather couch. The living room had a balcony with a city view, and was connected to an open space kitchen.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. On the couch, at the table. Wherever you want." you came back with a pair of black light tracksuit pants, a nice loose shirt with some graphic design on it, and your hair down.

Minho couldn't help but, casually, notice how good those pants made your ass look. But he cleared his throath and opted for a seat at the table, before his gaze lingered too long.

"Thanks", he sat down comfortably, curiously looking at the kitchen furniture, "You have a really nice place"

You smiled politely, giving him a nod.

"Thank you, Minho. I actually didn't move here too long ago. About five months-ish?", you explained, "Alright, let's get back to business. I have a few things." he tilted his head to listen.

"I have two types of my personal favorite, red wine. Then some whiskey that wasn't even gifted to me to begin with," your tone was slightly off as you said it, but he didn't ask.

"Then I have some tequila, gin and... champagne. Yeah, that's it." he chuckled.

"Well, comparing to mine's, that's a small but respectable collection." he joked, "I'll just have some of that italian wine, thanks" he smiled, amused. You laughed a bit.

"It's all small bottles. I only really drink wine. I also use it for cooking. The rest is for nights with girlfriends. Don't picture me as an alcholic, please" you both laughed at you scrambling to justify yourself.

"If you say so, yn" he teased.

"Oh, c'mon!"

You didn't really remeber exactly how you ended up from sharing a glass of wine and cheering to your incoming job presentation, to eating leftovers, then moving to the couch. But you got there.

The difference is that after getting a bit too giggly and a little lightheaded, you both agreed to switch to water. Yeah, that's probably when you also decided to put something in your stomachs.

After all, he would've had to drive back home. And both of you couldn't afford a hangover when you had such an important day ahead and a flight at eight am.

It was now around eleven pm as you sobered up, just hanging out on your cream colored couch.

"So that's how my friend from sixth floor found out boss is cheating. Big time." he concluded, making you rolle your eyes dramatically as you took a sip of water.

"Of course he's fucking cheating on his wife. Of course" he raised a finger, leaning a bit forward.

"It's not only that he's cheating. He's cheating with the chief editor and a bunch of other emplyees too. Lost fucking cause" your mouth opened in shock, gasping.

"Nasty man! I just hope it's a bunch of immoral people and nothing more serious it's going on, at this point." you shook your head as he nodded in agreement.

"I know right? Of course it's mainly hushed office rumors, but at least a couple of those have to be true. My friend's girlfriends says there's eye witnesses." you smirked slightly, humored.

"Scandal" he snorted a laugh at your comment as he ate a piece of cake. A strawberry and whippe cream cake your best friends got you when you got the job.

"What about you," his eyes moved back to you, "Do you have anyone? Aside from your three fur babies, of course." he smirked a bit as he chewed on his bite, taking a couple of seconds to try and read your expression.

"No, no one." he answered, "I was actually married for about a year. Then the stupidity wore off." your eyes actually widened in surprise at his words.

"You were married? For a year? What happened?" your questions were quick and probably quite nosy, so you backtracked, "I'm sorry. If- I mean, if you feel like sharing. Of course."

"It's fine", he shook his head lightly, he moved a bit on the couch to get comfortable, "It sounds crazy but it was years ago. We were eighteen, and stupid. We were together for like, six months, and since she was having trouble with her parents and needed a place to live, I guess that my stupid-in-love mind decided that getting married and renting an apartment was the right call." he explained, not with any particular intonation. Maybe some humor, actually.

"It was an extremely quick decision too. Proposed, one day later we were legally married. But then we quickly understood that marriage wouldn't solve her problems, so while I just questioned myself over and over and scrambled to find work, she went out and cheated."

"Oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, covering your mouth with your hand. He nodded, with an ironic expression.

"Yeah. I actually never found out how long that went on. Hopefully less than our marriage. That'd be embarassing." you instinctively reached out, placing your hand on his knee. You regretted it immediately as soon as your eyes met though, so you retracted it, brushing it off.

"I'm really sorry. That's shitty. I know how it feels." the bitterness in your voice finally made Minho place the small pieces you had intentionally scattered in the conversation that eventing, making him put it together.

"You got cheated on too?" you cleared your throat, sighing slightly.

"Not that I would've imagined the conversation going there tonight but, yes. That's- well that's why I'm living by myself now. You know how it is, messy breakup, lots of tears, and then you move on."

"I'm sorry.", his voice was soft and sincere, "How have you been holding up? You're certainly killing it on the job, though." he smiled at you.

"Even if it makes you nervous." he added. You gave him a small grateful smile, but couldn't help to get a bit sad.

"Thanks. You know, I do love being by myself. The relationship had become stale for a while. I kind of saw it coming. But of course, after two years, it stung." you admitted, "Wasn't particularly kind to my self esteem. Leaving him with my half of rent to pay while being jobless was kind of paybay, not gonna lie." you raised an eyebrow, making him laugh.

"Deserved, honestly." you laughed instinctively a bit too, but your mood was definitevely affected a t least a little now. Minho wanted to comfort you, telling you that he didn't see anything that you should be insecure about. But he stopped himself, feeling like he would've overstepped some boundaries.

"I'm sure you're doing great. Parties with girlfriends, a whole place by yourself, killing it at work. It's gonna be okay." that was the most he allowed himself to say, but judging from the grateful look in your eyes, that was probably enough.

You blinked a couple of times, awkwardly catching yourself getting voulnerable for the second time that evening with a man that until a few hours prior was just a bit less than a stranger.

As you thought that, you actually remembered to take a look at the clock on your wall and saw that it was half past midnight. You got up instantly, slightly startling Minho.

"Shit, look at the hour. I will probably not sleep for a good while, but it may be late for you. With the drive and all. I'm sorry I kept you blabbering for hours." you released a small, nervous laugh as you picked up both of your leftover cake plates.

He nodded slightly, mostly at himself, getting up.

"I don't have very regular sleeping schedules. My cats tell me when it's bed time." he joked, making you smile. "But I think you're right. I definitely sobered up now, don't worry."

You nodded, eyes struggling to stray from his brown, shiny ones. You cleared your throat, catching yourself before you could make things more awkward.

"I'll get your coat, wait a sec" he silently followed your figure as you disappeared again, then, just as you did, he tried to get a grip and walked towards the entrance where he had left his shoes.

He slipped them on, slapping himself slightly on the cheek to get some composure back. Just after that you came back, smoothing out his coat.

"Let me help you" you spoke softly, without really asking. He turned his back to you without speaking, offering you one arm, then the other. He then shrugged his shoulders a bit to fit the coat properly on.

"Thanks" you nodded, acknowledging him silently. You proceeded to open the door, and turn on the stairs light on for him. He turned back to look at you, now just a few steps outside of the apartment.

"Your cheeks turned red.", he teased, "Did you warm up well?"

"Yes" your tone was a bit more serious than his, wondering if his question hid a deeper meaning behind it. Maybe what he was really asking was if you warmed up to him, after all.

He looked down, nodding. He then smiled warmly, looking up back at you.

"Good. Thanks for the drink, it was fun", he stated sincerely, "Make sure to rest well, goodnight yn"

But, as he was about to leave, he felt your hand reaching for his sleeve. He stopped, turning back to look at your hand, then fixing his gaze on you. Your eyes were looking at him so intensely, almost burning into his. He didn't speak. He waited.

"Would it be extremely unprofessional if I asked my co-worker to stay over?" your words were teasing, but your tone as well as your gaze didn't match them. That's what made him hesitate at first.

"Are you sure?"

You retracted your hand, letting go of his sleeve. A hint of insecurity hitting you. But not towards your desire, more towards yourself. Imagine if he said no and rejcted you.

"You can say no" he fully turned to face you, walking closer.

"I didn't say 'no'. I asked if you are sure. Are you?" his tone wasn't harsh at all, but it was serious. It's true, he didn't say no. And you also weren't really sure why, but you were sure you wanted him. So, just in case...

"Yes, I am. We're both free, consenting adults. Doesn't have to mean anything. Letting go some stress, you know." you shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, crossing your arms. Acting way more cocky than you were actually feeling. Truth be told, you were so horny you would've probably crawled if he asked you to.

Minho squinted his eyes a bit, studying your expression. But he saw right though you. He didn't know the extent of your confidence at that moment, but he could see that you wanted him like he wanted you.

"Right" he finally spoke, slowly walking closer and closer, instinctively making you backtrack inside, your eyes fixiated in his as if you were hypnotised.

"Just de-stressing a bit, I guess" he pushed the door shut lightly with his foot before reaching for your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. Taking the hint, you crashed your lips with his.

The kiss didn't start slow, it was right away a messy, passionate one. Minho shrugged out of his coat, never leaving your lips for as much as he could.

"Wait- the coat-" you panted softly, but he shut you up quickly, pulling your even closer by grabbing at your lower back.

"Fuck the coat" he managed to answer, making you laugh faintly. Your lips separated as you stepped back enough to lead him to the bedroom. During the small walk, there was a pause, and neither of you talked.

You reached the bedroom, and slowly as you stood at the edge of the king size bed, you started to undress each other.

Starting from his tie, which was alrady loosened, then his shirt buttons coming undone one by one, then his belt. Minho didn't really move, nor rush you. He just held you by the waist, following closely your hands.

Being so lost in admiring his perfectly soft but muscular body, you kind of forgot that you were still completely covered. Not that you were exactly looking forward to getting naked and vulnerable at that moment in your life, but it was kind of require, as they say.

You stopped just before getting to the zipper of his elegant pants, his boner already forming a tent. You looked up at him, kind of questioning his stillness. But he was already looking at you, eyes lusty but comforting at the same time.

"Do whatever you want." he stated, taking one of your hands and encouraging it towards his pants, "Consider it a personal congratulations gift. Guide me." he continued, then squinted his eyes a bit, getting closer with his face to yours with a small smile.

"Unless you'd like me to?" that one sentence did so much damage to the least bit of self respect you were clinging to...so might as well.

You nodded slowly, you chest going up and down heavily, trembling a bit from the mix of excitement and, well, a bit of shame. The kind that will bring you pleasure though.

And he saw it. Again he saw right through you. Not that in the horny state you were at that moment you would've had much to hide anyway.

Minho chuckled, leaning in right next to your ear, whispering "Good girl", his lips starting to kiss your neck seductively, "Take my pants off for me, mmh?"

A moan escaped your mouth as your hands worked shakily with his zipper, then pushing the fabric down, revealing the expensive brand boxers he was wearing. And the hard on. Couldn't forget about that.

"So good for me. I'm going to undress you too, now. That's okay, right, honey?" his hands toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for consent, which arrived very quickly after.

"Yes, please" he cooed at that, proceeding to lift up your shirt and get it off you, leaving you in your simple, cotton bra. You didn't exactly dress up expecting this, but well.

"'Please'? You're so cute" he praised, continuing his works by pushing down your tracksuit pants. At that point, as drunk on lust and praise as you were, your insecurity couldn't help but hit as you were becoming aware of Minho's gaze.

That's why when he felt your hands squeeze his sidez a bit and get tense, he stopped, leaning back to check on you.

"What's wrong?" you gulped, throat suddenly feeling a bit dry.

"Nothing, it's- ...Don't stare too much. I don't know if I can handle it." your words were just above a whisper, but it made him a bit sad. He wasn't pitying you, he just felt sorry that your head wasn't allowing you to be as free as you wanted.

He understood. Of course he did. Everyone at least once, at some point, felt insecure about themselves. And while he truly think you shouldn't be, he wouldn't push it. He'd just make sure to make you feel good in the moment, like you deserved.

He brushed it off, shifting the mood to a lighter one. He nodded as he went back to touch your body up and down, his lips back to your neck.

"Alright, but- " he paused, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, squeezing them, eliciting a sigh from you. "On the condition that you'll let me suck on these later" he smirked, winking at you. You blushed even more, huffing out a laugh. Your head was clear again, so you decided to have fun with it.

"But now-" you gave him a little push, making him land on the bed, then straddling him. "There are a few things I want." he smirked, amused.

"Seems like it's gonna be a little of a game after all." he teased making you smile seductively.

"We'll see. Now stay still like a good boy." Minho's hand on got even harder, if possible. at your words. He wasn't used to be a sub at all, but that 'good boy' kinda...intrigued him.

At that point you got off of him, kneeling down beside him. You pinched the hems of his tight boxers and pulled them down, letting his cock sprung free, standing up mid-air from his abs. You pushed the fabric down enough for Minho to discard it, which he did.

He was half up, standing on his elbows, to not miss the view. And what a view.

You had started to stroke his cock slowly, with both hands, doing a sort of up and down gesture mixed with some twisting, that was sending him directly to heaven. But he was way too turned on already, he was afraid that at the minimum touch he would cum, so he regrettably stopped you, and instead switched positions, dragging you under him as he hovered above you.

"I'm sorry, princess, I'm not gonna last if I let you play too much" he explained with a sigh.

"You though...let's see if my sweet girl is ready for me" he continued, with mischief in his voice. His hands invited you gently to part your legs, and you complied easily. Your need to be touched almost unbearable now.

Minho shimmied down on his stomach, directly face level with your, still clothed, pussy. He raised his index, teasing your mound then your slit, which was clearly indicated by the wet patch on the grey cotton panties. You hissed and squirmed, desperate for him to touch you properly.

"Oh wow, look at my sweet girl, looking so wet already." he cooed as he started to kiss the inner of your thigh. "Should we check properly, mh?" all he needed was a desperate yes from you, to quickly act and slip down your legs the panties, discarding them somewhere.

"Oh my godness...look at this sweet, shiny, pussy. So cute. Is it all for me?" he asked cutely. You moaned instinctively and nodded quickly.

"Yes, all for you. Please Minho, I need it" you whined, trying to rub your thighs together for some relief, but his hands promptly kept them open.

"Tsk, tsk, kitten. Now be good for me. I promise I'll give you what you want." and with that he started out giving a fat, tongue flat, lick from your ass, then your pussy, and reaching the clit. The deep moan that exited from you would've almost been embarassing, if only Minho's actions with his tongue didn't distract you again right away.

He had started to kiss right where your whole was messily, occasionally trying to poke in the tip of tongue to try and gather as much of your arousal as possible. You were a whining, moaning mess, but you knew exactly that as soon as he'd actually start giving attention to your clit, you were done for.

Which is exactly what happened a few minutes later. When he was satisfied enough that you were absolutely drenched all over, his mouth and chin included, he moved a bit north, starting right away to skillfully suck and toy with your clit.

The sensation was so intense and you were already so sensitive that the contact made you prop yourself up a bit, but Minho promptly placed one of his strong, veiny hands on your stomach and pushed you back down, which you allowed yourself to go right away. But his hand was still there, so you took the opportunity to intertwine your fingers with his.

"Fuck, oh my God- Minho, please...please" you were incoherent, but he knew very well what you wanted and he was determined to give it to you good. That's when you felt first his index, then index and pointer fingers enter you swiftly. No resistance at all. You were so wet that you barely felt them, until he started to move them just right, stimulating your walls.

The gradually added movements and speed of both his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit had your stomach tightening so quickly, and then you came. You came for like a whole minute, and then some. It was actually crazy how intense and how prolonged minho had managed to make your orgasm. No doubt the best head you've ever recieved.

He gradually slowed down, until only his fingers remained to play with your slick as you came down from your crazy high. Minho had leaned his cheek against your warm, kids shaky, thigh while he watched you with a satisfied smirk.

"Are you okay, kitten? You have no idea how cute you sounded as you came on my mouth and fingers, purring and whining like a sweet kitten." you looked back at him with hazy eyes, as you made grabby hands. He chuckled and removed his fingers from your pussy, placing them immediately on his own cock, starting to stroke himself up and down.

You pulled him close, over you, pushing down on his shoulders with your arms. Your legs closing around his hips, immediately trying to grind on something.

He moaned in the kiss, "Such a horny baby that doesn't even need a minute after she just came" he teased you but you didn't cared, you whined and pulled him closer to keep the sloppy kiss going.

"Need you, mh- please, get- get 'nside 'o me" your words slurred but he understood you anyway. He parted from your lips, panting.

"Baby girl, w-", he swallowed trying to speak coherently, "You have protection?"

You nodded, pointing to the drawer of the nightstand. He moved a bit to reach into the drawer, fishing out a condom. But not before taking a peek at your cute, little, clit sucker toy.

He bit back a smile as he sat back on the heels of his feet to unwrap the condom and slide it carefully on his painfully hard dick.

"Usually it's rabbit toys" he teased, making you laugh faintly.

"I can't come with penetration only" you shrugged, which made your tits jiggle in your bra. Suddenly hypnotizing Minho, which had a promise to respect, he remebered.

He smirked, then properly got back between your legs, and just as you were about to pull him in for a kiss, he retracted with an eyebrow raised.

"First, this is gonna come off" his hands slid down the strips of the bra down your shoulders, then he reached behind your back to untie it completely. He sighed when finally he could throw the piece of fabric away, and enjoy the heavenly sight of your tits. Which, with his outmost disappointment, you rushed to cover with your hands.

"Hey, you promised!" he scolded you, "Plus, I already ate you out, what damage are a pair of tits gonna do now? None." he answered his own question, at which point you gave up and moved your hands back on his strong shoulders. He gasped, in awe.

"Ah, here they are..." he bent down, immediately attaching his mouth to one of the nipples, making you moan.

"So soft, round, so sweet..." he cooed as he grabbed them, squeezed them, kissed, licked and soft-bit them. Your hands were now intertwined in his cherry red hair.

"Minho, baby-" you both noticed how you slipped with the petname, but you brushed it off "Please, I need you. Need you inside me so bad, please.." he heard your plea and nodded, giving a break to your breasts just enough to position himself with your entrance, and then slowly but steadily he entered you.

It felt like one long stroke, until he filled you to the brim, his tip hitting the back of your walls, making you both moan. He stayed still for a couple of seconds, propping himself up with his forearms by the side of your head.

"Oh- hng, fuck. You feel s-so good. C-can I-?" you nodded frantically, moving your hips to meet his, making him hiss.

With that, he started moving, back and forth, at a normal speed, without ever exiting completely, instead focusing on stroking your g spot each and every time, driving you absolutely insane.

"Ah, fuck M-min...please go faster, please, please" he whispered praises and reassurance in your ear as he complied, his hips starting to go faster and faster. He kept going until he started to feel you tense up, and you croaked out "M close..s-so close, please"

At that point he moved his dominant hand from your side and slipped it between your bodies, circling your clit with two fingers to help you get there.

You gasped at his action, tightening the grip your thighs had on his hips a bit and arching your back, feeling your orgasm so, so close.

And it only took a couple more strokes for you to cum.

"Ah! Fuck, I'm- I'm coming, Minho", while your orgasm was happening, he felt your walls tighten around him, which made him frown in fatigue. "I- I know, sweet, come for me" he managed to say as he was still punding into you, but his pace was faltering.

This time it was your turn to help him get there, so you grinded on him, helping movement and friction, while also tugging a bit at his hair, which you noticed he seemed to like. And as expected, he groaned, then moaned, finally stilling as he came inside the condom.

His arms were trembling a bit, and he looked absolutely fucked, so you just pulled him to lay on your chest and rest. His head on your breasts. Both trying to calm down your breaths.

You were in silence for a little while, but then Minho pulled himself up and carefully got up from the bed, going straight to the private bathroom in the bedroom.

It kind of hit you at that moment, that this was not normality. This was a one night stand with a co-worker. So you also got up, quickly picking up your discarded clothes. Putting Minho's on the edge of the bed, while you exited the bedroom to go wash up in the other bathroom.

It didn't take long, as you decided that you would've taken a full proper shower tomorrow before leaving. Right. The flight. The speech. It all came back hitting you with a force, hitting you back with reality.

But reality was still in your bedroom, too. So you dressed back up, freshened up and quickly went back.

Minho was in his boxers, busy buttoning up his work shirt. His gaze landed on you as you appread on the doorstep. He gave a quick smile, then looked back down. And your heart kind of broke at that.

Was he also embarassed, or did he regret it already? And what were you feeling?

Everything was contradicting in your head right now, so you recomposed yourself enough to think clearly. It was now two am in the morning.

"Please, spend the night here. Then you can drive home tomorrow morning. It's so late now, I'm sure you're tired." it sounded so fake, so foreign to go back to being polite while just ten minutes prior you were tangled up in bed horny like animals.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be on the couch." he said as he also slipped his pants back on. You looked at him confused.

"The couch? But, the bed is big enough-" he interrupted you, picking up his tie.

"The couch will be fine. I just-", he sighed, "I need this, okay?" he pleaded silently. So you just nodded, keeping your head down.

"Please take anything you need. Good night, Minho" you spoke softly. He just breathed a "yeah" then closed behind him the door to your bedroom.

That night you didn't hear a single sound coming from the living room. It was just you, your overthinking, and the uncomfortable knowledge that a person that you have very quickly come to care about is sleeping seprately from you. On the couch.

You got him. You were confused too. But it still heavied on your heart. Until finally, you fell asleep from exhaustion without realizing it.

The morning after you woke up startled by your alarm. You checked the hour: six thirty am. Yeah, you definitely needed to get up. Those five more minutes will have to wait another time.

Then it hit you. You remebered what happened the night before. You remebered it all, perfectly.

The way you asked Minho not to go. The way he made you feel so good, both physically and mentally, for the first time in a while. Then you remembered how cold things ended up, too.

You got out of bed quickly, praying that he was still here, to at least make sure that everything was okay with you two.

But as you opened your bedroom door and walked out of the corridor, into the open space living room, no one was there.

The only thing out of place was the, usually discarded carelessly, now neatly folded blanket on the couch.

For some reason you felt like crying. What was wrong with you!

It was you, after all, that asked him to have sex and reassured that it wouldn't have meant anything. "Just stress relief", you said. He agreed. You both consented. You didn't regret it. So why did your stomach hurt?

At seven thirty pm sharp you were already on a taxi on your way to the airport.

You showered, got presentable enough, checked to have all your files, then picked up your small suitcase and you were ready to go. You would've had all the time to get 'professionally' ready when you got to the hotel. Which was also the place where the convention was gonna be held at, so even less stress.

When you arrived at the pre-established entrance number of the airport, you saw the team standing outside, chatting and some smoking.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to act like everything was normal. But nothing was normal about you getting on a stage to talk live in front of million dollar companies. And nothing has been normal for you after the night before.

As soon as the team saw you walking over, they started to cheer and shout out embarassing stuff to tease you. You laughed, but gestured for them to shut up.

Everyone picked up their cases to fo inside, and that's when you noticed Minho. Of course he was there. It was his job, too. But while you were instantly named 'leader', mainly because of a joke and the other's laziness, he remained at the back, minding his business. So you did the same, for now.

Once you got through all documents, tickets and baggage checks, you entered the waiting area at your assigned gate and could relax for a while before they started calling in passengers. You and the team did not go first, but almost.

Your boss had been gracious enough to put you seven in business class, so you would be the second type of passengers to board the plane.

And with a rather quickly queue, that's exactly what you did. In less than an hour you were ready to take off. You had almost secretly hoped that your seatmate would be Minho, but of course it wasn't. It was an older co-worker, around his fifties. You made some small talk at first, but then you put on your headphones and focused on reharsing your speech and the slides.

The flight was on time, two hours later, you were back on land. You were kind of disappointed with youself, because at some point, Henry saying it was about half an hour in, you fell asleep.

But at the same time, you did have a very short and shit sleep last night so, better rest now than be sleepy later.

When you walked out at arrivals you saw a man in suit and tie holding up a sign with your company's name of it, so you approached him.

"Good morning, miss. Are you the seven people I have to take to this address?" he asked, showing you the paper. You nodded.

"Yep, it's us." you turned and gestured with your hand to follow you.

With some surprise, you found a mini van waiting outside, with nine seats including the driver's. Minho went on first, as far back as possible, and you went on last, next to the driver's seat.

The hotel wasn't that far, only fifteen minutes, so you got there pretty quickly. When you entered the reception, it was a bit crowded, of course with the amount of hosts that were there for the convention.

Yet again, you waited in line, then provided documents and the staff gave each of you a card key to your rooms. For organization purposes you were put all on the same floor, with rooms near to each other.

You just nodded in understanding and politely declined the invitation to have lunch out that some co-workers offere, opting to remain in your room, practice and maybe rest some more.

You didn't need distractions in that moment. But not everyone was on board with the plan, so you and another two people, oneof which was Lee Minho, went straight to the elevators.

You were grateful for Amanda, the senior of the team, that made small talk abou the appearence of the hotel. She was talking mostly to herself, even though she thought she was talking to you and Minho.

Thankfully in a couple of minutes, everyone went their separate ways and rooms. You sighed, relieved when you were finally alone again. This 'ignoring' situation was ridiculus, you were adults for fuck's sake. And yet neither of you approached the one for now, so you were both fools.

'This is getting fixed, tonight', you thought. The gala would've started at about seven pm, so hopefully by ten pm you were gonna be done. No matter what, you promised to yourself that you would've had a grown, mature conversation. But later.

Now you just preoccupied yourself with ordering lunch and, once again, going over your files. For the last time, thank god.

Five fifty pm. You were ready. Kind of.

Make up, done. Hair, done. Clothes, done. Papers, done. Purse? Ready. Your brain? Not ready.

You were honestly just trying not to sweat literal cold now and not cause yourself a stomach ache. Your only salvation at that point would've been distraction.

You remembered how fucking nervous you were at every single graduation in your life. High school, degree. Hell, even middle school. Being on the spotlight for anything always made you so extremely uncomfortable and sick.

It was only as you grew older that you understood that really, the only secret to get through this type of stuff is just fakin' it til you make it. No other way around it. If you deluded yourself into thinking that you had your shit together, so would others.

So that's when you decided to just go downstairs, a bit early just to hang out. Maybe have a drink or two. You weren't the only one who would've had to speak publicly that evening, so who knows, maybe you'd find your trauma twin.

You picked up your phone, purse, papers, then you were out of the door. Just as you almost made your way down the corridor, nearing the elevators, one of your heels got stuck on a bump in the moquette.

You gasped, saving yourself by planting your hands on the wall at your left for support. But that meant that now your papers and purse were on the ground. Messy. Great. Always better than a twisted ankle, you thought.

You bent down, trying to pick up the scattered papers in order, when you suddenly heard a voice.

"Everything okay?"

"Shit!", you clutched the paper to the chest, scared. You looked behind you, but aside from the scare, you recognized the voice immediately. Of course you did.

"Yes, just tripped. Thank you." Your tone was cool as you addressed Minho, going right back to stacking your stuff in your hands.

"Wait, let me help" without thinking, he joined you, starting to pick up the files as well. In perfect order, too. Of course your second in command would know the presentation by memory as well.

"I got it." You so much spared him a glance as you got back on your feet, snatching back the paper. He stood back up, too. Hands in his elegant pants pockets. Awkward.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice so casual and polite it actually made you mad. You crossed your arms, a little awkwardly as your hands were busy.

"Oh, so now you're talking to me?" Minho frowned. Mirroring your pose, closing off.

"What? You think it would've been appropriate to air out personal business while sitting in a car with five other people? Co-workers?" he snapped back.

"No one said anything about drinking and hooking up, a normal "good morning" would've been enough" you rolled your eyes.

"Well it's not like you attempted it either, yn"

"Ah, yes because I surely felt welcomed with open arms after you-"

"Hey guys! Wait for me!" You and Minho both turned your heads toward the young woman speeding up her walk. She was the youngest in the team. Niece of the boss, nonetheless.

You both took a step back from each other instinctively. You offered a fake smile and wave as the red haired man pushed the button for the elevators.

"Ah, thank you! It's a bit late, but at least I won't be showing up alone" she laughed. You widened your eyes, scrambling to fish the phone out of your purse.

"What do you mean 'it's late' !?" The clock showed six pm and five minutes. You frowned, but before you could speak, Minho did it for you.

"It's not late, stop panicking her. They opened the conference room at six. They're gonna start at six thirty. It's fine." the young girl seemed a bit intimidated by the stern tone used by the man, but the just shrugged.

"Oh well, I may have read the invitation wrong. Same thing." you took a deep sigh, taking a moment to calm not and not choke her on the spot.

"Better this way." you offered the same brief fake smile.

Finally the damn elevator doors opened, so you stepped inside and once again Minho pushed the first floor button. It could've been a silent couple of minutes, but of course they younger girl just could not resist.

"Did you learn everything well?" Oh wow.

"I have spent weeks researching and editing this stuff, I didn't only 'learn' it like a school poem." the annoyance in your voice really couldn't be hidden anymore, so good thing the elevator doors opened back up.

This time Minho took it upon himself to lighting place his hand on your back to lead you outside.

"Everything is ready, see you inside" he exclaimed back. So much for not acting suspicious, you thought.

You stopped a few meters away, stepping to the side away from his hand.

"Is everyone trying to get on my nerves specifically tonight, or" your voice dripped sarcasm, making the man roll his eyes.

"Yeah, right. You got enough on your plate right now, I know. That's why I tried to be civil" he didn't let you have the chance to bite back, as he kept going " In any case, I'm gonna leave you alone now. Go get a drink. A light one. Relax, you'll do great. Later, we can talk. In private."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. Let me actually distract myself now, or I'll end up starting to argue at the stand instead of explaining my speech." with that, you forced yourself to walk away.

At exactly six thirty the conference started. You were seated with your team, of course. Everyone around this large, round table.

So cute, like king Arthur and his knights. And you were king Arthur in that moment. And hell, you would've better extracted that sword perfectly at first try.

Your turn didn't came until about an hour and a half later, after the welcoming speech, a couple of virtual messages from rich people who were too busy to be there in person, and a bunch of other companies' expositors.

"Please, give a round of applause for the next representative." the announcer spoke into the mic as he read from a folder, listing your company's name, the CEO, a few words of introduction, then finally your name.

The public applauded politely as you walked on stage with a smile, as carefully as you could. Couldn't have attempted twisted ankle number two at that moment.

"Thank you. Good evening. Tonight I am here to represent our," you extended your arms toward your team's table, " - company's project. I was honored with the duty of exposing the project to you. Hopefully it was the right call!" the crowd laughed and smiled.

You focused on explaining the idea, from the first draft, to research, then one by one describing and arguing the slides. Finally citing sources and closing your speech with some polite greetings.

The crowd once again clapped as you gracefully made your way down the stage. The presenter moved on, and a big sigh of relief left your mouth.

Your team looked at you with smiles, congratulating you as you went back to the table.

The whole official thing actually wrapped up around eight, not nine pm as you expected. Dinner was served and then a more casual after party was held. Not an actual party, more like a jazz music ambience with drinks, made for conversation.

And you did engage in some conversation, mainly with strangers and people from other companies. Some more job related topics, some about the event itself, others just very small talk.

By ten pm you were absolutely ready to ditch the whole thing and go to bed. You did it, it's over, it went well and the world didn't fell. So yeah, you called it a day. With everyone else, at least. But you still had some unfinished business with a person in particular.

Minho not so secretly followed you with his gaze all evening. He was so glad that the presentation went smoothly and it was over. He was also very proud of you. While your... relationship had been very short by then, he worked with you enough to know that you put your whole efforts into this project, and it paid off.

He was keeping his eye on you, but you were keeping yours on him as well. And both of you noticed. To be honest, the intention wasn't even to hide it.

You never interacted once. He just congratulated you along with everyone else, then that was it.

As he had been doing all night, he followed you with his eyes as you made your way out of the conference room. He waited a couple of seconds, then nonchalantly ditched his half consumed drink and followed you. As he expected, he found you waiting for him.

"Fancy seeing you here" he teased. He may have not acted like it, but he was actually quite nervous.

"Yeah, right" you replied with the slightest hint of humor, " I know there is a pool outside. It's closed now but you can still access it through the garden."

The man nodded in acknowledgedment, silently following at a moderately short distance, behind you.

Neither spoke a word until you were outside, the pool sides and the small garden dimly lit with warm lights. You sat on the sunbeds, next to each other. It was actually pretty cold, but you didn't seem to care at that point. At least there was no one else there, as you hoped.

"So..." he started, mostly to break the ice. And like that, as if you were waiting for a clue, you blurted out "Do you regret it?"

Minho stared at you for a second, slightly confused.

"What makes you think that?"

"Just answer. And be honest. I can take it, you know." your rubber your shoulder, both from the cold as well as the nervousness.

"I know you can." , he stated, serious "No. I didn't. Did you? Is that why you're asking?"

Your gaze finally found his again, the annoyance giving you some courage.

"No, I didn't. It was my idea, remember?", you paused, " I'm asking because you were cold last night. You know, after." just like that, eye contact was out of the window again.

"What? If anything it was you who disappeared without saying a word." he retorted. You raised an eyebrow.

"I went to clean up. You went to the bathroom so I thought you wanted some space."

"I was going to help you clean up. Not even the time to come back with a towel that you already left. At that point I thought, 'ah nice, the stress relief is over, better go back home' ", he air quoted with his fingers, "What was I supposed to think? Those were your intentions after all."

You couldn't really debate that. That's exactly what you said. It was crazy, you didn't even really know each other. If you weren't co-workers you wouldn't have seen each other again, ever. And that was probably the biggest mistake.

You knew the risk of getting personal life involved with the workplace. But then again you only wanted a night of meaningless sex. Why even make this fuss? Yet, there must be something. Otherwise you wouldn't bother having this conversation.

"Might be. All I know is that I literally asked you to stay, I offered you a place in my bed. Without any second meaning." you specified, "And instead you shut me down and went to sleep on the fucking couch. Left without a note or anything." you tilted your head to the side.

"I have already explained my reasons.", he replied, "Honestly what I get from this is that we're both pretty bad at communication." you stared at each other for a moment, and then, out of the blue, stifled laughs.

"Why are we arguing like an actual couple?" you asked, genuinely confused and weirdly amused by the situation. He shook his head, as clueless as you were.

"I have no idea."

Silence fell between you two for some time. Until you leaned back, propping yourself up with your hands on the sunbed.

"So what now?"

"What now?" he repeated.

"Do we pretend like this never happened?" yours was a genuine question, no second meaning or pressure behind it. He shrugged.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?" he rolled his eyes, a light smirk on his face. You were just parroting each other at this point.

"I mean, I enjoyed myself. Don't know about the future, but that's a quite nice memory to keep, at the very least." he replied honestly, sneaking you a look, "Did you enjoy it?"

The question and the eye contact combined making you you blush. You nodded, acting more nonchalant than you were actually feeling. But you couldn't hide the but of mischief in your eyes at the thought.

Minho licked his lips, biting back a smile. Then nodded to himself.

"Right. Well, I say we see what happens. One thing we can agree on, though, is whatever, - if- anything happens, it stays out of the office" he waited for your response.

"Okay", you said, "Let's see what happens on Monday, then." you exchanged a smile.

Yeah, who knows, what will happen on Monday?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Y'all are gonna hate me for that finale🤣 but I warned you!!

That's it from me, hope you enjoyed and if you did, feel free to leave a feedback :')

Bye<3

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