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golden-cherry · 1 year

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deal - cl16 (15/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Showing your friend your favorite place shouldn't be as romantic as it is.

Warnings: this is soft, like really soft, Charles is cute, everything's cute so be prepared, Charles playing piano

Word Count: 3.5k

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A/N: ahhhhhhhhhh. feedback is appreciated.

"Not happening."

You put your hands on your hips and look at your roommate with narrowed eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because I said so." Charles holds your Renault's car keys tightly in his hand as you stand in front of your car in the underground parking garage.

Ever since you left the apartment - wrapped in thick, cozy sweaters and warm socks - you've been bickering about who should sit in the driver's seat.

"You don't know where we have to go," you argue, holding out your hand, so he can put the key in it. After all, he really doesn't know where your favorite place is, and for sure you wouldn't tell him if you wanted it to remain a surprise.

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "So what? You can guide me." He lets the key ring circle around his finger. "But I'm driving."

"But it's my car," you try to change his mind. "And you've driven it the last few times. Both to your place and to Joris and to the restaurant. Would you want to be the passenger princess in your own car?"

Your buddy raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Passenger princess? What's that?"

You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Actually, it's a girl who can't, won't, or shouldn't drive, and that's why she's always driven by her boyfriend." You point to your car. "But I can, and more importantly, I want to drive my car too."

"But you don't have to now." A grin spreads across his face and it becomes clear that you can't win here. "So, be a good passenger princess. Sit in your seat, look pretty, and let your boyfriend drive you around." He walks around the hood and opens the passenger door. "Let's go. I thought you said we were supposed to make the most of the time before I left for Italy. And you can pout on the drive, too."

As he titles himself your boyfriend, your heart beats a tiny bit faster, but you block that out as you follow him and reluctantly plop down in the seat. "Alright, go ahead and drive. But I'll be complaining the whole time."

Charles smiles at you. "I expected nothing less." He closes the door as you buckle up and trots back to his side of the car, where he takes a seat next to you. "So, where are we going?"

"If you'd let me drive, then you wouldn't have to ask," you reply to him, playfully annoyed, letting the seatbelt tighten against your chest.

The brunette puts the key in the ignition and lets the engine rev briefly. "But you're my passenger princess. So, which way do we have to go?" He presses down on the gas pedal and steers the car out of the underground garage and onto Monaco's streets.

You pucker your lips into a thin line. "Nice."

Charles' head jerks in your direction. "You traitor."

You turn to him and cross your arms in front of your chest. "Why is that? It's not my fault there's no place like it here in Monaco."

"Maybe you just haven't been looking properly," he says, turning - reluctantly - at a street sign that says Nice. "There's so much to discover here. So many beautiful things. And they're right under your nose."

You raise an eyebrow. A song is playing softly on the radio, whose name you don't know, but it sounds very familiar. "And what would that be, for example?" you ask.

Charles' gaze lingers on you for a moment before he looks ahead again. He swallows once and his slender fingers curl around the worn leather of the steering wheel as he turns again to drive out of town. "Tiramisu, for one."

You have to laugh. "I already know that, Charles. That tiramisu was by far the best thing I've ever eaten. So it doesn't count."

He shrugs. "Then you don't have to go all the way to Nice for it." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, then clears his throat. "I mean, if you've already had the best tiramisu here, then it's not even worth the effort. You can be perfectly happy with the tiramisu here, no?"

You turn another bit in his direction, your hands folded in your lap looking at him.

The lights of the lanterns on the streets and the last rays of the day's sun bathe his face in a warm gold, his hair hangs slightly in his forehead and the dimples that usually bore into his cheeks are only slightly hinted at as he purses his mouth into a thin line and waits for your reaction.

Is his remark about Nice an innuendo about Lando? That you don't have to go to Nice with him when it's best with Charles? Is Charles then the "best tiramisu"? The one that's right in front of your nose, but you're too blind to recognize?

Even though you're not blind at all. You see Charles clearly in front of you, you know how beautiful and wonderful he is, and with all due respect, you've even dreamed about him. You know full well that Charles is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to you. But your focus is limited to your friendship, not allowed to spread to anything else for fear that it might affect yours and that it might suffer.

Charles is your favorite tiramisu. And you don't need to try another to be sure of that. But maybe tiramisu is just a dessert you share out of friendship because it's easier, more enjoyable. A means to an end.

You smile at your friend. "I'm perfectly happy with my tiramisu here."

A slight blush creeps onto Charles' cheeks, almost certainly from the fact that the heater is warming up the inside of the car and he's wearing a thick sweater. At least, that's what you try to tell yourself. "I'm perfectly happy with the tiramisu here, too."

The rest of the car ride is quiet. The radio continues to play songs that you hum along to as Charles focuses on the road and it grows darker outside. The silence between you is not uncomfortable, but relaxing and comforting. Neither of you feels compelled to say anything, to keep the conversation going, but you simply enjoy the closeness the car gives you before you break the silence and give Charles instructions on which direction to drive.

When you end up at a narrow road after twenty-five minutes, he turns off the engine. "So, where's your favorite place now?" He spins around a bit, trying to make out something through the windows of the car, but he can't make out anything except houses, small boutiques, and a deserted neighborhood.

No normal person would venture out of the warmth of their own home in this cold. Except the two of you.

"Over there." You point to a dark alley from which a small beam of light shines on the asphalt. Your gaze wanders to Charles. "If you laugh at me for that, or talk down to it, I'll hurt you." You knead your fingers in your lap.

Showing Charles your favorite place makes you incredibly nervous. Showing someone something so personal, so intimate, makes you vulnerable. And if Charles actually thought your favorite place was terrible, or said something bad about it - you don't even like to think about that.

"Don't worry," he says, putting his hand on the doorknob. "If the place is as great as you are, then nothing bad can happen at all."

Together you walk off, cold winter wind sweeping your faces, and you're so grateful Charles lent you that thick hoodie. Hiding your hands in your sweater, you walk beside him down the street, following the narrow strip of light into the narrow alley. In front of a store with dim lights, you stop.

You look at Charles. "This is it."

Your friend looks up from you to the store. The petits mondes is a small, two-story bookstore with ivy entwined around its sign. Fairy lights hang under the rain gutter, casting warm light on your faces. From outside, you can see the countless books stacked to the ceiling in the store through the small store window. "Petits mondes? Little worlds?" asks Charles without looking at you.

"Exactly," you answer him, rocking from one foot to the other.

"Okay." Charles looks at you and gestures toward the bookstore with a nod of his head. "Shall we?"

Your friend kindly holds the door open for you and lets you enter the store first, and immediately the smell of old books wafts around you. The shelves are overflowing with books so that the boards bend, and even the floor is piled high with copies, so you have to watch where you step. As you stop to let the place sink in, you sense Charles behind you.

"Show me," he breathes into the back of your neck and goosebumps spread across your body. "Show me your favorite place, mon amour."

Paralyzed, you stand in front of him, feeling his hot breath on your heated skin, and when he gently places his hands where your hips are, your brain seems to short-circuit. His touch burns through your clothes, through your skin and it feels like his touch is twitching through your veins.

As someone comes up to you from the back of the store, he takes his hands off you. You take a deep breath.

"Y/N!" An older gentleman stands behind the sales counter. "How nice to finally see you again! Where have you been the last few days?"

"Hi, Thomas," you greet him with a smile. "I've been incredibly busy. How's Agathe doing? Did she take her new medication well?" You take a few steps toward him as Charles stops in the doorway.

"Oh, it was terrible at first. She barely ate and slept very little, but she's much better now," he replies before glancing over your shoulder. "Who's your friend over there? Come here, young man, I won't bite."

You look to Charles, whose gaze lingers on you. He follows you and stops beside you. "I'm Charles. It's nice to meet you," he says, a little nervously.

"Likewise. Make yourself at home here," Thomas smiles at him before turning back to you. "You know where everything is. I'll lock up the store in a good fifteen minutes, but I'll leave the spare key here."

You nod gratefully at him. "Thank you very much. Please give Agathe my regards, and above all, please continue to get well, won't you?" You take a few steps toward the spiral staircase, which is in the back of the store, before turning to him once more. "And don't stay up too late, or you'll have that headache again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course, Y/N." Thomas smiles at Charles. "Go on, enjoy the evening. I'm sure we'll see each other again." Then he disappears.

"He's nice," says Charles, who joins you but glances after Thomas.

"He is," you counter him, and together you climb the steps of the steep spiral staircase to the top floor. "Agathe - his wife - is sick, which is why he's closing the store early to get to her faster. They've known each other for sixty years and they've been married for fifty," you tell him. When the two of you arrive upstairs, you look at Charles. "I guess they were best friends at first before they finally found each other."

Charles' smile is gentle. "And they opened the store together?"

You nod and take a few more steps as you let your outstretched fingers roam over the many book spines on the shelves. "The store is twice as old as we are, and they put so much time and love into this. I think you can tell with every single book."

"With every single little world," Charles adds. "Petits mondes."

The two of you browse through various books until you arrive at a small couch with books piled up on its sides. A table lamp stands on the small column, casting warm light on the dark red fabric. In the corner next to it is an old piano with loose sheets of music.

"I like to come here when I feel lonely. When I'm surrounded by these many little worlds, I know I'm not alone," you explain your favorite place, Charles listening intently. "Although I've been living in Monaco for months, and even though it's my home, I still feel quite lonely sometimes. And ever since I broke up with Raphael and all my friends dropped me, this place has been my refuge."

Charles drops onto the narrow bench that sits in front of the piano and surveys the slightly yellowed keys. "When was the last time you were here?"

You sit down on the couch. "The day you stood in my apartment," you reply, a smile spreading across his face.

"You mean when I was standing in my apartment," he grins, tilting his head.

You purse your lips. "Do you play?" you ask him, gesturing toward the piano with a nod of your head.

He shrugs his shoulders. "A little. I started learning to play two years ago, but I'm not particularly good at it."

You prop your elbow on the armrest and rest your head in your hand. "Would you play something for me?"

"Something from the sheets here?" he asks, sliding the loose pages back and forth on the piano, looking for something appropriate for this moment.

"Whatever you like," you answer him.

Charles nods and raises his hands to place his fingers gently on the keys. He takes one deep breath before looking to you. With a smile, you encourage him to get started, and as he returns your smile, his fingers begin to dance across the piano.

You watch him as he intently plays a melody you don't know. His eyes flicker as well as his movements across the keys, moving from the high notes to the low ones. The sight of seeing him so in his element, so captivated by the music, brings tears to your eyes.

He plays with a passion that you would also like to feel for something, and whatever the song is that he is playing there for you, you would love to tattoo on your skin. The warm light from the lamp shines softly on his face as he looks over at you for a moment.

After a few minutes, when he lets his fingers linger on the keys and the last notes fade away, you have to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"It's beautiful," you breathe, smiling at him. "Who's it from?"

Charles turns back to you and there's a twinkle in his green eyes. "It's my piece," he replies, looking down at his hands. "I wrote it."

You widen your eyes. "That was from you?" you ask, aghast, pointing your finger at the piano. "Don't bullshit me, Charles. That's really from you?" When he nods, you slap your hands over your head. "And you say you're not very good at it."

He shrugs. "I didn't write the piece, it - it just came out of me. This place -" He stands up from the bench and spreads his arms, "I can see why this is your favorite place. It's beautiful here, and I'm very grateful to you for sharing all these little worlds with me. It means a lot to me." He tilts his head. "I just hope you don't feel lonely around me and need to seek refuge here."

You get up from the couch and stand in front of him. Most of all, you want to tell him that Charles is the reason you haven't been here since you met, that he is your haven. But you can't tell him that as a friend. Friends don't do that.

"Thank you for coming here with me." You poke his finger against his hard chest. "And thanks for not making fun of it. After all, it's not as special as the place you showed me."

Charles takes a deep breath. "Everyone has their own experiences that make certain places special. I would never make fun of you. You're too important to me for that." He leans a bit in your direction and tilts his head. "I know it's your place, and I definitely don't want to seem like an intruder, but maybe we can make this our place too. To one of our little worlds," he suggests, pulling back a little, only to reach out to you. "Dance with me, mon amour."

You smile at him. "We don't have music, Charles."

He shrugs. "We can make our own music," he counters, noticing how reluctant you are to take his hand.

His suggestion to make this place one of yours is lovely, but what would happen if the two of you stopped being friends at some point? Then you would have to find a new place, a new haven - and you definitely don't want that. This place means far too much to you for that.

You don't know what to say to that, so you just smile and move away from him a little more. A glance at the clock hanging on one wall tells you that you've been in the store longer than you think.

"We'd better get going. We haven't eaten anything decent yet, and it's getting late, and we still have to head back." You make your way back toward the stairs, where you then stop and glance back. Charles' outstretched hand is now in his pants pocket, and judging by the look on his face, you've hurt his feelings. Something you definitely don't want to happen, but you can't stop it either. "You coming?"

Putting a little distance between you, you head down the stairs and hear Charles slowly following you with heavy footsteps. Once downstairs, you reach for the spare key Thomas has left for you. There's a switch under the counter, which you flip as your friend joins you, and all the lights in the store - including the string of lights outside - go out.

"I don't want the day to end." Even though it's dark in the store, you see Charles clearly ahead of you. His look is a little sad as he walks toward you. A few inches in front of you, he stops. "When the day is over, it's already tomorrow and then I have to go. And then we won't see each other for four days." You feel him reach for the hem of your sweater with his fingers.

You smile softly at him. "It's only four days. You'll be fine," you try to talk him down, even though you feel the same way. Four days isn't the end of the world - so why does it feel like an eternity?

Charles continues to play with your sweater. "It's our third day together, and I don't know why, but I've already gotten so used to you. To your company, being so close to you." He looks from the hem into your eyes. "It's going to be weird not having you around me all the time."

"How do you think I'll be?" you venture to ask him, and confused, he looks at you. "Well, you're in Italy having your meetings, your work colleagues and I'm here just waiting for you to come home." You push your bottom lip forward. "Not that you'll forget about me and not hear from you."

Charles wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against his body. Chest to chest, you stand there in the dark bookstore, only the thick sweaters between you, your faces inches apart. If you would just stretch a little, go up on your toes, your lips would brush his. His hot breath glides over your face and you close your eyes.

"I could never forget you, mon amour. How many times do I have to tell you how important you are to me?" You feel his hands on your back, pressing you against him. Not a sheet of paper fits between you anymore. Heat spreads through your body, and it's definitely not because of the thick sweater.

"So often, until I believe it," you answer him softly, and there's so much more meaning in your words than either of you can imagine.

He tilts his head forward a little more. "I promise you that you'll never have to doubt how much you mean to me, even if I have to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, a million times." His scent envelops you like a cloud and that feeling, what you can only describe as Charles, surges through your body. "I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it, mon amour. In this life and the next. In each of our little worlds."

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jetii · 1 month

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Playing Pretend

Pairing: Wrecker x Twi'Lek fem!Reader

Words: 16,373

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fake married, (not) unrequited feelings, Wrecker yearning x1000, some negative self talk, big "get your hands off my wife!" energy, some minor jealousy, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink obviously, light dom!Reader

Summary: The mission is simple: infiltrate a lavish party, plant a bug, and get out. The only problem: Wrecker has to pretend to be married to you, and he's not so sure he can hide how much he likes it.

A/N: Happy Wrecker Wednesday! This is definitely the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, down to the nonhuman reader bc I'm getting a little bored with humans. With this, we've officially reached the end of the fics I wrote before creating this account, and we're going out with a bang (literally).

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This mission is going to be a disaster.

It's not that Wrecker doesn’t trust you, quite the opposite. You’re quiet, quick, and resourceful, and you’re one of the smartest people he’s ever met. You're built for infiltration, for gathering intel, and as far as the Batch is concerned, you have yet to fail a mission. So no, there’s no doubt in his mind you're the perfect spy.

It’s his own ability that gives him pause.

Hunter, Echo, hell, even Tech would’ve been a better pick for any sort of espionage mission over him. When Hunter informed them Wrecker was the one that was going with you, Wrecker laughed. A full belly laugh that brought tears to his eyes and left his face aching, because the very idea of him sneaking around, being stealthy, well, it was ridiculous.

It was so ridiculous he was sure Hunter had meant it as a joke, but when he saw the serious look on his face, the one that told him his brother meant business, Wrecker began to sweat. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Lying and pretending are two things he’s truly terrible at, coupled with the fact that he’ll be alone with you, playing pretend with you, and he‘s been on edge ever since.

It doesn't help that Cid insisted the only way you could get close to the target is by posing as a married couple. One that are newlyweds, at that.

Wrecker knows this is a job, just a job, but it's still you.

He's still going to be touching you, and not because you need him to, or you want him to, but because the job requires it. And the whole thing just has him feeling weird. He knows you can fake being a couple, but he's not sure if he can.

As much as Wrecker hates lying and pretending, he really doesn't hate you. If he's being honest, he probably likes you too much. So that's why, when Hunter told him about the mission, and then later asked if he was alright with the details, Wrecker had said yes.

The look Hunter gave him told him that he didn't quite believe him, and Wrecker wasn't even sure he believed himself. After all, it's no secret he doesn't have the greatest poker face. He doesn't like lying, especially to his brothers. But he also doesn't like disappointing them, or disappointing you, and he's willing to do just about anything to make sure you're safe.

The rest of the night before the mission was spent planning and strategizing, which meant he didn't see much of you. He wanted to check in and make sure you were feeling good about the plan, but he never got the chance.

Now, here he is, in a small, nondescript hotel room with you, the rest of the squad holed up in the Marauder and waiting on your signal. The room itself is nice, but small, and there's only one bed. He’d felt his nerves spike when he first saw it, but he forced himself to relax. If everything goes according to plan, you won't be sleeping in it.

There are other things he's more worried about, anyway. Like how he's going to pull this off, and how he's going to manage not to fuck up, and most importantly, how he's going to manage spending the entire mission trying not to get too wrapped up in you.

That last part is the hardest.

He's sitting on the bed, the holomap spread out on the small table beside it. Your target is a small-time gangster, and he’s having a party at his penthouse tonight, so it's the perfect opportunity to sneak in. All you have to do is go through the party, find the main office, plant a few bugs, and then get out.

Easy peasy.

At least, that's what Tech said.

Well, he said a lot more than that, but Wrecker had kind of zoned out around the time Tech started talking about security cameras and frequencies.

What he does know is the bugs need to be placed somewhere in the office, and the two of you will have to blend in and seem as natural as possible until you can make your way there. Easy for you, but Wrecker knows he'll stick out like a sore thumb, even if he isn't in his armor.

“You alright, big guy?”

Wrecker nearly jumps at the sound of your voice, heart in his throat as he feels your hand gently grab his arm. He tenses underneath your touch.

He can’t remember the last time you touched him, or even the last time the two of you were alone together. Probably because it hasn’t happened. He thinks he would remember if it had, because it feels electrifying. Your manicured hand, complete with a wedding ring, slides against the fabric of his suit. It takes everything in him not to shiver.

Then he turns to face you fully, and his eyes nearly fall out of his head.

No, he’s not alright.

You look absolutely stunning.

It's not like you don't look stunning every day, you do, and even when you're in armor, or covered in dirt and grime, Wrecker thinks you're beautiful. But this...this is something else. It's not fair.

You’ve shared a bit about Ryloth during your time together, and you’d mentioned that ever since you left the hot planet, you felt cold. He’s never seen you without a jacket except that one time you’d been shot in your shoulder, and even then, he was more focused on keeping pressure on the wound and getting you to safety than on what you were wearing.

But right now, he can't focus on anything else.

He, embarrassingly, tends to ogle whenever any inch of your vibrant skin is on display. He walked straight into a wall the time you stretched in front of him, and your shirt rode up to reveal a hint of the curve of your stomach. When he saw your legs in a dress at 79s, he shattered his glass. He couldn’t help it. That was one of the first times he realized he had a problem, but it certainly wasn't the last.

You're just...so much, all the time, and you don't even realize it. He's gotten better at being discrete, or at least, he's better at hiding his reactions.

But this is so, so much.

Made of some fancy shimmering black fabric, the top of the dress left nearly your entire chest exposed along with your arms. With two thin straps to hold it up, he doesn't know how it's staying in place, but he's sure if he looks hard enough, he'll find out.

A deep cut runs down the middle of the dress, starting right under your clavicle and ending in a point just below your stomach. It's long, coming all the way down to your feet and flaring out, and there are two slits up either side of the dress, exposing your thighs as you move.

There's no denying it, the dress is tight, and Wrecker is trying so hard not to look, honestly, but it's like his eyes are glued to your body.

You mentioned you would have a weapon on you just in case, but looking over you now — admiring the way the expensive fabric clung to every curve of you — he struggles to imagine where it could be.

He swallows. Hard.

The hand on his arm lets go to reach up and hold one of your lek, shifting it so both were draped over one shoulder. You’d gone all out with decorating them as well. Sparkling straps of black crisscrossed up to a velvet headpiece that takes the place of your usual bandana, all coming to a point high on your forehead, where a deep blue jewel sits at your crown. It shifts slightly with the raise of your eyebrows, and he realizes he's been staring, and he’s still not saying anything.

Wrecker forces out the first words on his mind.

“Wow! You look—wow..."

You give him a small smile, a hint of color darkening your cheeks, and his heart thuds in his chest. He wants to make you blush all the time.

He reaches out and grabs your hand, lifting it above your head with ease. Wrecker turns you into a spin, and he’s rewarded with your cute laugh and the sound of the dress swishing as you spin. And then he sees your back, entirely exposed all the way down to the dimples at the base of your spine, just above the curve of your ass.

Holy shit.

He has to look away, letting go of your hand to rub the back of his neck, feeling a little light-headed. This is already not going well.

“You clean up well yourself, handsome,” you say between a laugh, and he blushes more than he already is.

Wrecker doesn't consider himself all that good-looking, especially compared to his brothers, but you've told him once or twice he's not hard on the eyes. You've also told him he has a nice smile, which had him grinning like an idiot for a solid day. He's still smiling now, because hearing you call him handsome makes his heart pound in his chest.

Still, he's not used to all the compliments. It's a lot, especially when they come from you.

"Tech and Echo did the best they could, I guess," Wrecker shrugs. The motion stretches the threads of his dark suit, and he grimaces. It's itchy, and too tight, and he hates it. He doesn't get how people wear these things all the time. "Not really used to the fancy stuff."

You tilt your head, looking him over. He resists the urge to squirm.

“C’mere," you tell him, beckoning him with your hand.

Wrecker does as he's told, and your hands grab his tie. The feeling of you tugging him closer by the silk sends a rush of heat through his veins, and he can’t help but grin down at you as he watches you adjust it for him.

Your mouth is pursed, nose wrinkling slightly as you concentrate on getting it just right, even though you both know he'll likely mess it up in a matter of minutes anyway. You’re so cute, and you're so close, and it would be so easy for him to lean in and kiss you.

He's thought about it a lot, and he's almost done it once or twice, but then you'd pull back, or one of his brothers or Omega would come into the room, and the moment would be gone. It was probably for the best, considering he doesn't even know how you feel about him.

“Thanks," he mumbles.

You're still standing close, your chest practically touching his.

"Of course." The words are soft, and they leave him feeling hotter than ever.

He looks away from you, and catches sight of the two of you in the mirror. Wrecker has always been a bit of a sucker for a good romance, and this? This is right out of one of his favorite holovids. You're both dressed in the finest clothes, him in a suit, you in a gorgeous dress, and it's just the two of you against the world.

Except, this isn't real.

There isn't any grand romance, and the feelings that threaten to burst from his chest are his and his alone.

“You really do look beautiful," he says, his voice a little rough, but honest.

You meet his eyes in the mirror. He watches as the corner of your lips quirk up, and you look almost shy. It's adorable, and a little confusing, because usually, you're not so modest. He wonders what changed.

"I—thank you, Wrecker."

"And I'll keep sayin' it till you believe me," he adds, because it's true.

"Oh, I believe you," you laugh, and the sound warms him to the core.

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah."

"Good. 'Cause you really do. You look—" Wrecker swallows, and then shakes his head. He's getting distracted, and it's not good, not when the two of you have a job to do.

"So do you."

You give his tie one last tug, and then take a step back. Your hands smooth down the front of your dress as you look down at your shoes. He can't tell, but he swears you look almost bashful. It's so unlike you that he wonders if you're actually okay.

"You sure you're good?" he asks, concerned.

You hum an affirmative, and then you mutter, “Just already looking forward to taking this off."

The words are mumbled, barely audible, and he doesn't think you intended for him to hear. Wrecker blinks, and his gaze travels down the length of your body, and his mouth goes dry. His mind can't help but wander. It would be so easy for him to reach out, hook his fingers in the thin straps holding your dress up, and just...

"Yeah, me too," Wrecker admits quietly, the words falling from his mouth without thought.

A second passes. Two.

Wrecker's brain catches up to his mouth. He sees the shift of your jaw and the bob of your throat, and he wishes the ground would swallow him up.

"Uh, yeah, I mean," Wrecker starts, trying to backtrack and failing, "because I hate this thing, and it's not very comfortable."

It's not the worst lie he's told, but it's pretty far up there. Still, the look of relief that crosses your face tells him you believe it. Your arms are crossed over your chest, holding yourself in a way that suggests you feel vulnerable, and the realization makes his gut twist.

Wrecker doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, and he feels terrible that he has. He didn't even realize that the dress, and the mission, could bother you. You always seemed so put together, and confident, and not bothered by much, that he just assumed you would be okay. But, you're not, and now he feels bad, and stupid.

"We don't have to do this," Wrecker offers, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shake your head, and he can see you forcing yourself to relax. "I can handle a few hours."

Wrecker isn't sure what to say. He knows you're capable, and he doesn't think you would offer if you didn't think you could do it, but the way you're standing makes him wonder.

"But you know if you don't wanna, that's fine too," he adds, because it is.

Hunter would probably give him an earful later, but you were the priority, and Wrecker would deal with whatever punishment was necessary to make sure you were safe and comfortable. He doubted Hunter would be mad, anyway. They're family, and family looked out for each other, and you were part of the team, too.

You look at him, and then down at the floor, and then back up at him.

"It's fine."

Wrecker bites his tongue, but only barely.

You're not fine, and he can tell, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why. There's a reason you've always been the one chosen for missions like this, even back when you were still an intelligence officer and he was barely more than a shiny. It's not just because of your training and experience, but also because of the way you look.

The thought makes him angry. It isn't right, and he hates that you've been forced into this position. Until tonight, he'd held out some misguided hope that you wouldn't ever have to be put in a situation like this again.

He knows you can handle a lot more than most, but you shouldn't have to.

"Really, Wrecker, I'm fine," you say again, and it's only then that he realizes he's been staring at you.

"Are you sure? ‘Cause if—"

You step forward, putting a hand on his chest and looking up at him. His eyes catch on the shine of your lips, and the warmth of your hand against his chest makes his heart race.

"If you keep asking me, I'm gonna start to think you don't want to be my husband," you tease.

"I'd love to be your husband," Wrecker replies without missing a beat, and he means it.

The words are true, even if the context isn't. It's the closest thing he'll get to a wedding with you, and that thought makes him want to scream. Instead, he settles on smiling, even as his heart races and his palms sweat.

"I'm sorry, I just don't wanna make you feel—"

"I'm kidding, ma sareen," you say, shaking your head, "I know. But really, it's okay."

He gives a slow nod, not sure how to respond. You've called him that before, and while he doesn't speak Ryl, he does know it's a term of endearment. One that he's overhead Suu say to Cut a few times, and one that you've used with him, and only him.

Every time, it makes him smile. But it's one thing for you to say it casually, and another entirely to say it in front of strangers, pretending to be married to him. He doesn't know why the thought makes his heart pound in his chest, or his ears grow warm.

"And hey, at least I have someone who can protect me, right?"

He grins proudly, and nods. That, he can do.

"You got that right."

"Then what's there to worry about?" you ask, a smile on your face.

That I might embarrass you, is what Wrecker wants to say, but doesn't. Instead, he follows you towards the door. You pause just before stepping through, looking up at him expectantly. He doesn't quite understand until you reach out and hold your hand palm up.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Give me your hand, Wrecker," you laugh.

"Oh, right," Wrecker stutters, slipping his hand into yours.

His hands are rough and calloused from years of fighting, but your hand is soft and gentle, and he tries his best not to squeeze too hard. You lead him out of the room and to the lift. You lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Relax, big guy, you've got this," you whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Wrecker hopes you're right.

He's not sure how long the two of you have been here. An hour? Maybe two?

Whatever it is, it's long enough that his face hurts from fake smiling. His shoulders are tense, and he keeps a steady hand on your lower back, not willing to let go.

As soon as the two of you had walked through the door, the guards had taken your weapons, and it had been the first time Wrecker had felt truly unsettled since leaving the ship. Not only was he unarmed, but now, you were as well, and he was responsible for keeping you safe. They'd even taken the knife you'd tucked into the holster on your thigh.

They'd also frisked you, and while it wasn't the first time, or even the first time for him, it was the first time he'd seen it done like that. The guard had run his hands up the inside of your thigh, his thumb dangerously close to places he never should've been touching, and Wrecker had seen red.

The man was lucky all Wrecker did was grab his wrist and pull it away, his grip tight enough to bruise. The guard had stumbled, his face red as he tried and failed to apologize. It didn't matter to him. The bastard wouldn't be able to use that hand for a while, and Wrecker hadn't felt bad at all.

After, he'd wrapped his arm around your waist and held you close. He knows he probably shouldn't have, but he needed the reminder that you were safe. He could pretend it was just for show, but really, it was to comfort himself.

It doesn't help that every eye in the room has been on the two of you since you arrived, and while the stares are likely directed at you, Wrecker still doesn't like it. It makes his blood boil, and his skin crawl, and all he wants to do is get out of here. He hates how uncomfortable and vulnerable it makes him feel, and the fact that it's affecting him at all is embarrassing.

You seem to be doing just fine, chatting with various people, laughing and smiling and, unfortunately, flirting.

Not with him, no. With all the men and women around you.

It's the nature of the job, he knows that, but it still sucks.

You're doing your best to blend in, and it's working. He just tries his best to keep up with you. He doesn't trust any of these people, not even for a second, and the tension in his shoulders doesn't ease, no matter how hard he tries.

This is the first time he's been in a party like this, and he doesn't think he likes it.

When Tech had said the target was having a party, he'd expected loud music, maybe some dancing. What he got was an old-fashioned cocktail party, the type he's only ever seen in holovids, and the kind where the rich and powerful mingle and talk about politics and money.

It's boring, and the people are rude, and the lights of the chandelier make his eye twitch. But worst of all, no one can take their eyes off you, and he can't blame them. Even after the initial shock of seeing you dressed like that has passed, his eyes can't help but trail down the length of your body. And while you're definitely the most beautiful person in the room, he thinks there's a part of him that doesn't want anyone else to see you.

At least there's good food. And drink. And while he would never dare touch you without permission, it's nice to know he can do so now.

So he's taken every opportunity to do just that, to let everyone around know that you're his. He's kept his hand on the small of your back, the curve of your hip, the bend of your waist, and he's made sure to be close to you at all times. You don't seem to mind, which is the best part, and it makes his chest swell with pride.

Your arm is tucked around his, your fingers laced with his own, and he loves the way you lean into him, like you need him, like he's a safe place for you. He doesn't know if you do, but it doesn't stop him from wishing.

Wrecker looks at the ring on his finger. It's a simple gold band, nothing fancy, and it reminds him that this isn't real. It's just for the job, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. Because if he doesn't, it'll be easy for him to lose sight of that. And if he loses sight, he might do something stupid, like kiss you, and he's not sure if he'd be able to stop.

"So, where did you two meet?"

Wrecker tears his gaze away from you and to the Twi'lek across from him, her blue lekku adorned with jewels. He has no idea who she is, but the two of you are getting along so well he doesn't want to interrupt. You're the only Twi'leks in the room, and he thinks that might be the only reason the two of you are talking at all.

"Oh, it's a little embarrassing, actually," you answer, a shy smile on your face.

You squeeze his hand and glance up at him, and his stomach flutters.

"Not really," he mumbles, cheeks warm.

"You don't think so, but I might," you giggle, and Wrecker can't help the way his mouth quirks up in a smile. He wants to kiss your forehead, or your cheek, or your lips, but he doesn't.

The Twi'lek woman laughs and sips her drink, leaning in close to listen.

"C'mon, tell me, I'm dying to know."

Wrecker's not sure what story you've told everyone else, so he's not sure if this is part of it, but the way you look up at him makes his heart skip a beat. You squeeze his hand again, and he wonders if it's supposed to be a sign. It's a little distracting.

"Well, um, we met when he saved my life."

Wrecker nearly chokes on his drink.

The Twi'lek raises a brow, glancing between the two of you. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"That's not embarrassing."

"Yes, it is. Because he saved my life, and instead of being grateful, I called him an idiot," you tell her, a blush rising to your cheeks.

It's the truth. When you were still an officer, your unit was under fire. You'd been separated from your squad, pinned down, and Wrecker had found you. He'd pulled you from your hiding spot and out of the way, and the two of you had barely escaped unscathed. But the first words you'd said to him were, 'You idiot, you almost shot me.'

In his defense, he was a little distracted at the time.

"What did you say to that?"

Wrecker shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. "Not much."

You look up at him, your eyes shining. "I mean, he did save my life, so I apologized, obviously."

"Obviously," the woman nods.

"And, um, well," you stumble, and Wrecker wonders what's making you so nervous. It's not like you to be caught off guard, but you seem almost embarrassed. "He's the kindest man I've ever met, and I was immediately charmed by him."

Wrecker can't hide the surprise that crosses his face, but he does his best.

"It was hard not to fall for him," you admit, a softness in your voice that wasn't there before, "and, well, here we are."

Your gaze meets his, and the tenderness in your eyes takes his breath away.

"So romantic," the woman sighs, and you nod in agreement.

"Yeah, it's...it's somethin'," Wrecker says quietly, his chest tight.

He doesn't think anyone's ever talked about him like that, let alone in front of a bunch of strangers.

You lean into him, a soft smile on your face. Wrecker's hand slides from your waist to rest on the small of your back, and his eyes linger on the curve of your lip, the slight shimmer on your cheek. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes drop down to watch the motion, and his heart thuds against his ribcage.

He can't help but wonder if maybe there's some truth to what you're saying. It's not like you've been lying the entire time, and Wrecker isn't naïve. He knows this is all part of the act, but the way you're looking at him makes him feel like you might mean it.

Wrecker can't help the way his mind wanders, or the way his stomach flutters when your lips brush his ear as you whisper, "You alright, darling?"

His breath hitches in his throat, and it's hard not to shudder as you trail a finger up his arm.

"Yeah, m'fine," he manages, the words shaky.

Your lips brush the shell of his ear, and he has to fight the urge to groan.

"We've got company," you whisper.

Wrecker tenses, scanning the room. It takes a moment for him to realize you mean the target. He's making his way through the crowd, and it's only a matter of moments before he's approaching.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kasta," he greets, an air of confidence in his voice, "welcome."

Wrecker nods at him, keeping his mouth shut. He doesn't trust himself not to say something stupid. He's already fucked up a few times tonight, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself. Besides, you're already taking the lead, smiling brightly at the man.

"Thank you for having us, Mr. Dralig," you tell him, giving a slight bow.

"Please, call me Bohme," he insists, returning the gesture. "Always a pleasure to meet such an esteemed couple as yourselves. You look ravishing, Mrs. Kasta."

You blush, and Wrecker fights the urge to roll his eyes. You are the most stunning woman in the room, and he can't imagine how this asshole could think otherwise, but the compliment still makes him bristle. He can't understand why you don't seem more annoyed.

"Well, thank you," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice.

"I do hope you're enjoying yourselves," Bohme continues, "the food, the music, the view."

The man's eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and Wrecker doesn't have to be a genius to figure out what he means.

"Oh, yes, very much so," you reply easily, ignoring the implication, "thank you."

Bohme nods, and then turns his attention to Wrecker, giving him a quick once-over. Wrecker tenses. The man is short and thin, his features pinched and pale, but his eyes are sharp, and his mouth is curved up in a smile that's almost predatory.

"I must say, I was a little surprised when I learned the Kastas would be joining us tonight. I was told they were unable to make it."

Wrecker narrows his eyes, watching the man carefully.

"Yes, well, our schedules opened up, and my husband was able to move some things around. It's rare we get a night off, so I jumped at the chance," you tell him, reaching out to grab Wrecker's arm and squeeze it.

He's glad you're playing the part so well. It's definitely not something he's capable of, and he can't help but feel a little useless. But he can at least make sure you're not alone, and that this guy keeps his hands off you.

"Well, I'm glad you could make it."

"We're glad we could too. The party's been wonderful."

"Glad to hear it."

Wrecker shifts slightly, feeling the weight of the man's gaze. There's something unsettling about him, and Wrecker's never been able to hide his disdain for the people they're forced to work for. But Bohme's the mark, and so he tries his best not to stare, but he's never been good at playing nice.

"If I'm being honest, I thought the rumors were exaggerated."

Wrecker frowns, and you look a little surprised.

"Oh?"

"I see the scars aren't," Bohme adds, gesturing to Wrecker's face.

Wrecker doesn't reply, only glares. The scars have never bothered him, not really. Sure, sometimes people stare, or ask him about them, and sometimes that's more than a little awkward. But he doesn't hate them. He mostly just forgets they're there until he gets one of the phantom pains, or someone points them out.

This man, though, he's staring, and not with curiosity, but with judgement, and it makes Wrecker’s skin crawl. He clenches his jaw, looking for the words to tell him off that won’t make the entire operation fail, but thankfully, you're quicker than him.

"No, but I quite like them," you say, reaching up and brushing a hand over his scarred cheek.

Wrecker swallows, his head tilting down to meet your gaze. Your touch is gentle, your thumb brushing under his eye, and he watches as your eyes shift from cold fury to something warmer, kinder.

"They remind me of just how brave and selfless my husband is," you tell him, the words soft, almost as if they're just for him.

Wrecker blinks, his lips parting. He wants to respond, but his throat is dry, and he's not sure what he would say even if he could.

"And I would be lost without him," you add, your fingers sliding across his jaw.

He knows this isn't real, that it's just for show, and he's just a means to an end, but he can't help the way his heart races in his chest. Because the way you're looking at him isn't fake, and neither are your words. He doesn't know how he's so sure, but he is.

He can't find his voice, and he doesn't trust himself to speak, so instead, he takes your hand and presses his lips to the inside of your wrist. You gasp, and your mouth parts, and he's so focused on the warmth of your skin and the way you blush that he barely registers the sound of Bohme's laughter.

"Oh, to be young and in love."

Wrecker doesn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation. He doesn't care. All he can focus on is you. The way you look up at him, and the softness in your eyes. The way you're pressed against him, and the way his arm is wrapped around you, and the way it feels like you belong there.

You've always felt right in his arms, like you fit perfectly, and every time you touch him, he wonders if it's the last. That's how it is now. Like it could end at any moment. So, he's memorizing everything, every detail, the feel of your skin, the sound of your voice, the scent of your perfume.

Because when this is all over, he'll never be close to you like this again, and he'll never forget it.

"Ma sareen."

He snaps out of his trance at the sound of your voice. "Hmm?"

"Could you be a dear and get me a drink?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Wrecker leans in, pressing his lips to your temple, and he relishes the way your cheeks turn red and the sound of your breath hitching in your throat. He doesn't know what he's doing. All he knows is that it's worth it to see the look on your face, and the way Bohme looks like he's swallowed a lemon.

He gives your waist a gentle squeeze and turns, making his way through the crowd to the bar. It's the furthest place from the door, and the longest walk of his life, because his head is swimming, and his heart is pounding, and it’s giving him too much time to think.

And when he does, all he can think about is you. He's not blind. He can see the way you've been looking at him tonight, and the way you're touching him. It's driving him crazy, and the more time he spends here with you, the harder it is to convince himself that you don't feel the same.

Maybe you do feel the same, and he's just been missing the signs, too afraid to see them. Maybe he should do something about it.

The thought is scary. What if he does, and he's wrong?

But then he remembers the way your fingers slid across his cheek, the way you leaned into his side, and the way you blush whenever he calls you sweetheart. It's enough to give him hope.

"What can I get for you?" the bartender asks.

Wrecker blinks, glancing down at him. He'd forgotten why he was here, and his cheeks warm as he fumbles for an answer. Champagne seems like the right call for you. You'd both had a few glasses earlier, and it was fine, but he needed something much stronger if he was going to have a chance at getting through the rest of the night.

"Whiskey, neat.”

He doesn't pay attention as the bartender pours his drink. He turns around toward where couples are dancing, scanning the room for you. When he finally finds you, his stomach twists, and he has to force himself to breathe.

Bohme has his hands on your hips, and your hand is on his chest, and the way his head dips toward yours sends a flash of anger through him. The two of you are dancing, swaying back and forth, and while Wrecker knows it's a mission, and that you're just playing a part, it still makes his stomach churn.

Because even from here, he can see the look in the man's eyes, and it's not one of someone who's just playing a part.

"Is that all?" the bartender asks.

"What—no, no. Give me another," Wrecker mutters, grabbing the first glass and downing it in a single gulp.

It burns his throat, but it's the distraction he needs, because the two of you are getting closer. He's not sure if Bohme is going in for a kiss, but he knows he's not going to be able to watch it happen.

The second glass goes down just as quickly, and Wrecker winces, slamming the glass back on the bar and turning around. He doesn't know what's come over him. He's not a jealous person. Never has been, not even a little. He's been on plenty of missions with you, and seen you get close with other men, and while he didn't like it, he's never felt this.

Wrecker pushes past the dancing couples and walks toward the two of you. As soon as Bohme's hand slides lower on your back, Wrecker knows it's too much. You've gone along with the plan, but Wrecker's not going to stand here and watch you be taken advantage of, not by him, or anyone.

He storms up to the two of you, ignoring the startled looks on your faces and those around you. Before he can even think about what he's doing, Wrecker wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. His hand settles on your lower back, your skin warm and soft against his palm.

"Can I cut in?" he growls, his voice low and gruff.

"Uh—"

"I was talking to my wife," Wrecker snaps, his eyes narrowed.

The man's face pales, and his mouth drops open. He glances down at you, and then back up at Wrecker, and then steps back, holding his hands up in surrender.

You press your hand to his chest, and the motion is so familiar and comforting that his shoulders relax. He looks down at you, and his breath catches in his throat. There's a hint of a smile on your face, and you look happy, and his stomach flutters.

"Of course, darling," you murmur, your fingers curling into his shirt, "we were just having a nice chat, weren't we, Bohme?"

Wrecker glares at the man.

"Yeah, sure, we were," the man replies, taking a step back.

Wrecker knows he should leave it alone, and let you take care of it, but the whiskey has loosened his tongue, and the man's wandering hands have left him feeling more than a little possessive.

"Don't get any ideas, pal. She's married," Wrecker tells him, his voice a deep growl.

He's being harsh, but he doesn't care. You've had to deal with this asshole enough for one night, and Wrecker's tired of watching him touch you, and talk to you, and look at you.

"Of course, I would never," Bohme says, shaking his head.

Wrecker's not convinced, but he's not going to start a fight over it. As much as he'd like to knock the guy's teeth in, he doesn't. For your sake. And for the mission's, though he's caring less and less about that as the night goes on.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Wrecker asks, his tone gentler, more concerned, as he leads you away.

"I'm fine, darling," you answer, giving his arm a squeeze.

He's not sure if he's imagining it, but he swears you sound a little breathy. Wrecker's not surprised. If his heart is racing from the adrenaline of pulling you away from Bohme, then yours probably is, too.

"Sorry I forgot your drink," he mutters as he picks up his pace, "that guy just rubs me the wrong way."

"It's okay," you say, looking up at him with a small smile. As the two of you get further and further away, you add, "I was kind of hoping you would."

He stops walking, his brow furrowing. "What?"

"Nothing, ma sareen."

"Wait, were you—" Wrecker glances over his shoulder, and the realization hits him. You'd known the whole time, and were counting on him to notice, and he had. He's not sure if he should be mad, or embarrassed, or something else entirely. "Oh."

You tilt your head, looking up at him with an amused expression. "Yeah, oh."

"That's why you wanted a drink, wasn't it?"

You bite your lip, a blush rising to your cheeks. "Well, I was thirsty."

"I—"

"I knew you wouldn't leave me alone with him."

"I wouldn't," he says, shaking his head, "not in a million years."

You look down, and his grip on you tightens. He doesn't mean to, but he's still shaken up, and your nearness is a comfort, even if it shouldn't be.

You lean into him, and he takes a step forward, pulling you close. His other hand comes up, his fingers brushing your cheek, and his eyes drop to your lips. He doesn't mean to touch you like this, but now that he has, he doesn't want to stop.

"I know," you say softly, your breath warm against his palm.

"Good," he murmurs.

Your hand slips down his chest, and Wrecker shudders. You're standing so close, and your face is only inches from his, and your eyes are shining. The words leave him before he stop them, his voice a low rumble.

"And I don't want anyone else touching you, either.”

The sound that leaves your mouth sends a rush of heat through his veins, and he has to fight the urge to kiss you.

"Good," you whisper, the word nearly lost to the music.

"Really?"

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, and his heart skips a beat. "Mhm."

Wrecker lets out a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek. His lips are only inches from yours, and he's not sure if it's the alcohol or the dress, but he feels bold. Too bold.

"Then, is it okay if I—"

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Yes," you tell him, leaning closer, "but not here."

Wrecker freezes. Did he hear that right? Or is he imagining things?

"Why not?"

"Because," you start slowly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "if you kiss me, I'm not going to want you to stop. And we're in the middle of a party, and the mission's not over."

Wrecker doesn't even realize his mouth has fallen open until you reach up and close it for him. Your touch is gentle, and his cheeks are warm, and the softness in your eyes makes him melt.

Your hand drags down to adjust his lapel before you slip something into his pocket.

"Got his keycard," you whisper, patting his chest.

Wrecker doesn't care. You could've told him you'd stolen the man's starship, and it still wouldn't have mattered. Not with the way you're looking at him.

"You're really somethin', y'know that?" he asks, and if he sounds a little breathless, he doesn't care about that either.

"So are you, ma sareen," you answer, smiling softly, "so are you."

"Almost done," you say, your voice soft, but urgent.

Wrecker is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze locked on you. He's careful not to touch anything in Bohme's office as you make your way around. His eyes are on the sway of your hips, and the soft curves of your body, and it's all he can do not to reach out and pull you against him.

You'd managed to slip away, and while Wrecker is a little disappointed the two of you had to leave, he knows the sooner you're finished, the sooner you can be alone.

"Anythin' you need help with, sweetheart?"

"No," you answer, "I got it."

You're bent over, looking for something, and the view gives him a perfect view of the curve of your ass. It's a bit distracting, and his mind is wandering. He's thinking about how nice it would be to hold you in his arms, and kiss you, and the things he would like to do if he had the opportunity.

The list is getting longer by the minute.

"Just need a few more seconds."

"I'm not in a rush," he answers with a shrug. His eyes are locked on your ass, and the way it moves as you work. You'd asked him to keep watch, and that's what he's doing, just keeping watch.

"Yes, you are," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice.

"Maybe," he admits, not bothering to deny it.

He doesn't care if it's a little pathetic, or desperate. He doesn't want to hide his feelings anymore. Not from you, and not from himself. He wants you to know, and to understand.

You glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his. You're wearing a smile that makes his stomach flutter.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, a sultry note to your voice that makes his head spin. You walk over to the lamp on the wall and unscrew the glass. One of the bugs Tech had given you slips into the empty socket before you replace the bulb.

Wrecker blinks, his mind foggy.

"You."

You look surprised, and for a moment, he wonders if he's gone too far. But then, you smile, and he knows he's made the right choice. "Yeah? What about me?"

"Just how lucky I am," he tells you, the words sincere.

"Lucky?" you ask, raising a brow.

"Mhm."

You shake your head, letting out a soft laugh. "I think I'm the lucky one."

"I dunno. Pretty sure I'm the one who gets to take you home," Wrecker points out, a grin on his face.

Your eyes widen, and your lips part, and for a moment, you just stare at him, stunned. You let out a shaky breath, your face falling, and it's then that Wrecker realizes his mistake. You’re worth more to him than a quick roll in the sheets, and while he wants you, and the thought of it makes him hot and bothered, he's not interested in a one-night stand.

"I, uh, I didn't mean it like that," he stutters, his cheeks growing warm. “I—“

"Don't worry, darling, I know what you meant," you say, a hint of disappointment in your voice.

"It's not like—"

"We should go, Wrecker. The others are waiting."

"Right," Wrecker says quietly.

He doesn't like the tension in your shoulders, or the way you won't look at him. He's not sure what to say to fix this. All he knows is that the moment is over, and his heart is pounding.

When the two of you step out of the office, the door slides shut behind you, and he grabs your wrist. You don't stop, and you don't turn around. But you don't pull away, either.

"Hey, c'mon, just wait a sec, please."

You stop, letting out a quiet sigh. "It's okay, Wrecker, you don't have to—"

"But I want to."

You look up at him, your jaw set, and there's something in your eyes that tells him you don't believe him. It breaks his heart a little. Because it's true. He's been wanting you for a long time, and even if you don't feel the same, he's not going to let you leave without knowing it.

Wrecker takes a step toward you, and another, and another, until he's pressed against you. He lets go of your wrist, and his hand settles on your waist.

"Wrecker, what are you doing?"

"Trying not to be an idiot."

"You're not an—"

"Yeah, I am," he interrupts, a soft smile on his face. "I'm not good with words, and I don't always know the right thing to say. But I'm gonna try."

"Wrecker," you whisper, your eyes wide, "you don't have to."

"But I want to. I wanna tell you the truth."

"The truth?"

He nods.

"And what's that?"

"That I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever met," he tells you, his voice soft. "I think you're the bravest, and the kindest, and the smartest. I think you're the best, and I wish I was half the person you are."

"Wrecker, you're—"

He squeezes your waist gently. "Not done yet."

You smile up at him, a fondness in your eyes that makes his heart race, and you nod.

"And I know I don't deserve you, and I know you're probably just being nice, and that maybe, I'm reading into this too much, but I don't think so."

You look like you want to interrupt him again, but you don't. He's grateful.

"I think there's something here. Between us,” he says. “And I've never been good at keeping my feelings to myself. I think about you all the time, and I can't help it.”

"Wrecker, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I dunno.” He shrugs. “Maybe. Probably."

You shake your head, laughing. "Wrecker, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to tell me you have feelings for me."

"Well, that's because I do."

"What?" you ask, sounding almost as surprised as he felt earlier.

"Have feelings for you. I have a lot of 'em," he tells you, a smile on his face. It feels good to finally admit it. "I've had them for a while."

"How long?"

"Pretty much since I met you."

"Really?"

He nods. "Really."

"That's...a long time," you murmur.

"Mhm. So, that's the truth," Wrecker says. "And if you don't feel the same, or if I'm wrong, or if I'm misreading things, then just tell me, and I'll never bring it up again."

"I don't think I could," you answer, "not now, after all that."

"So, then, maybe—"

"Wrecker," you whisper, his tie and pulling him closer. Your lips brush his, and he has to fight the urge to groan. "I have a lot of feelings, too. I just didn't know you did."

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you breathe, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't bother fighting the groan this time. He can't. Not when you're this close. Not when he can feel your breath against his skin. Not when your lips are ghosting over his, and the scent of your perfume is filling his nose, and the warmth of your body is pressed against him.

"Then, does this mean—"

"You can kiss me," you murmur.

Wrecker doesn't hesitate.

His mouth crashes against yours, his hands slipping down to your hips and pulling you against him. You let out a whimper, and it's all he can do not to moan.

He doesn't want to push too far, or scare you away, so he holds back. He kisses you with restraint, with tenderness, with love. Your lips are soft, and pliant, and your fingers tighten in his shirt as he deepens the kiss. It's even better than he imagined, and he's spent hours imagining it.

He doesn't care that anyone could see you. He doesn't care about the mission, or the bugs, or the fact that the others are waiting for you. He only cares about you, and the way you feel in his arms.

"Wrecker," you mumble, breaking the kiss.

"Hm?"

"We should go," you remind him, your voice soft.

"Right," he says, "just one more."

"One more," you agree.

Your lips are on his again, and it's just as good as the first time. Wrecker doesn't want to stop, and he doesn't, not until his comm buzzes, and his brother's voice rings out in his ear.

"Wrecker, status report. We need an update."

Wrecker groans, pulling away from you. "Tech, not a good time."

"Now is precisely the time," his brother replies, sounding exasperated. "What is the status of the mission?"

Wrecker glances at you, and you look back up at him with a soft smile on your swollen lips. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and the feeling is so comforting and sweet that his chest aches.

"It's good," Wrecker answers, smiling. "The mission is going really good."

"Good?" he hears Hunter repeat. He's not sure if it's confusion or disbelief in his voice. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Great," he corrects, leaning down to kiss you again. "Really, really great."

"Oh," Tech mutters, and Wrecker can hear the gears turning in his head. "I…did not expect that."

Wrecker smiles down at you. "Yeah, well, neither did I."

“I see.” There's a pause, and the sound of shuffling, some muffled voices, and then Tech adds, "In that case, we will let you get back to your, ah, mission."

"Thanks, Tech."

"Mhm," his brother hums, sounding a little awkward. "You’re welcome. We'll see you both when you return.”

The comm clicks off, and Wrecker sighs. "Guess we should get back to the ship."

"Yeah, we probably should," you agree, though neither of you move. "Or..."

He perks up. "Or?"

"Or, we could go back to the hotel," you suggest, a playful note in your voice. "We did pay for the night, after all. It would be a shame to waste it."

"A real shame," he nods, his voice grave.

"Besides," you add, your hand sliding down his chest, "we could use the extra time to...discuss the details of the mission. Make sure we're on the same page, and everything."

Wrecker bites back a moan. The feeling of your hand on his chest, and the sound of your voice, and the suggestion in your words, and the glint in your eyes. It's enough to make his knees weak.

"What do you think, ma sareen?"

"I think," he murmurs, kissing your neck, "that's the best idea I've ever heard."

The two of you barely make it through the door.

As soon as it slides shut behind you, Wrecker’s lips are on yours. His hands haven’t left your hips since you entered the elevator. He guides you backwards, his hands roaming across your back and sides. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip, and the sound you make sends a rush of heat straight to his cock.

Your back hits the wall next to the door, and Wrecker lifts you up, wedging a thigh between your legs. The dress is riding up, and his hand slips under it, and he's never been more grateful for Tech's insistence on getting a hotel room.

His tongue slides across the roof of your mouth, and he swallows the gasp that leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you roll your hips, grinding against his thigh. The sound that leaves his mouth is embarrassingly needy as his hand moves higher, squeezing the soft flesh. Your knife has been safely returned to its holster, and his fingers run along the strap.

He wants to take his time with you, to make sure you know how he feels, but he can't stop touching you. You’re so soft, and he's been wanting to do this for so long, and the dress makes it so easy to find new places to explore.

"Wrecker," you whimper, arching against him.

He nips at your neck, and the soft whine that escapes your throat makes his knees weak. His hand squeezes the back of your leg, and his mouth travels lower, his teeth dragging across your collarbone.

"You look so fuckin' good in this," he tells you, his lips brushing the swell of your breasts. "Drivin' me crazy."

"Yeah?" you ask, reaching up to loosen his tie.

"Yeah," he grunts. He leans down, pressing his mouth to the tops of your breasts. You make a soft noise, and he smiles, his hand slipping up your thigh and pushing the hem of the dress higher. "Been thinkin' about taking it off all night.”

"Well, why don't you, then?"

Wrecker pulls away, and you look up at him, your eyes half-lidded and dark. Your cheeks are flushed, and your chest is rising and falling, and you look so fucking gorgeous, he can't stand it.

He doesn't respond. His lips find yours again, and he pushes your skirt up higher, his hands bunching the smooth fabric. He tries his best to be gentle, but it's hard. The thought of ripping the dress from your body, tearing it off and tossing it to the side is appealing, but he won't. It's not his to ruin, and he doesn't want to make you mad.

"This okay?" he asks, breaking the kiss.

"Yeah," you answer, nodding. Your hands join his, and together you pull the dress over your head, and toss it aside.

He nearly drops you.

He doesn't, but it's a close thing.

"You—oh, fuck," he groans, his head falling to the crook of your neck, "you weren't wearin' anythin' underneath?"

You let out a breathless laugh, and the feeling of it makes his head spin.

"Surprised?"

"Uh, yeah."

He's not sure what to say, or what to do.

The only thing he can think about is the way your bare pussy is pressed against his thigh. Your nails drag across his scalp, and he shudders. He’s pretty sure his brain is short-circuiting, because all he can do is stare at you.

Your makeup is messy, your headpiece a little crooked, and your chest is rising and falling in short, shallow breaths, and you're looking up at him with a smirk that makes him want to drop to his knees and worship you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, tilting his chin up. "You can't talk now?"

Wrecker grunts. You're teasing him, and he can't even pretend he doesn't like it. He likes it too much.

"You're not playin' fair," he complains, his voice gruff.

"No?"

"Nope."

"Well, neither are you," you say, rolling your hips. The motion drags your pussy across his thigh, and the dampness on his skin has him groaning. You lean forward, your mouth next to his ear. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

He growls, and you gasp as his hands slide down, grabbing your ass. He hoists you up, putting your chest level with his face.

"Gonna show you," he rasps, "just how much you drive me crazy."

He's never seen anything hotter than the way you're looking at him right now, and he's not sure he ever will. He doesn’t want to close his eyes, doesn’t want to blink, but he can’t help it when his tongue darts out and his lips close around one of your nipples.

The soft sound that escapes your mouth makes his cock throb, and he presses your back against the wall, holding you up with ease with one hand as the other comes up to fondle your other breast. His tongue is hot and insistent against your skin, and your breath catches in your throat when he drags his teeth across the sensitive flesh.

"Fuck," you hiss, arching into him.

"Told ya you look good," he mumbles. He nips at the swell of your breast, and a moan escapes your lips. "Good enough to eat."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," he hums. "Can I?"

"Please."

You let out a squeak as he hikes you up further, his lips ghosting over your ribs, and then your sternum, and then the soft swell of your stomach. Your thighs are draped over his shoulders, and his hands are on the backs of your legs, holding them up and apart, and the sight of you above him is almost too much.

"You smell so fuckin' good," he growls, burying his face between your thighs.

You're already wet, and his nose bumps against your clit as he presses his mouth to your pussy. You're so warm, and soft, and when his tongue slides against you, you moan, the sound desperate and needy.

"Shit, Wrecker," you gasp, your hands coming down to grab his head.

"Just relax," he tells you, his tone a little patronizing. "I gotcha, sweetheart."

He dives in, his mouth eager and unrelenting. He licks and sucks and nips at the sensitive skin, and when his tongue pushes inside, you arch your back, rolling your hips. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and the noises that are leaving your lips are sending sparks down his spine.

He does it again, and again, and again, trying to coax more of those sounds from your mouth. He wants to see what he can get you to do, wants to know what makes you cry out, and moan, and scream.

You're trembling above him, and your pussy is so wet, he can feel it running down his chin.

"Oh, fuck," you curse, and he can't help but grin.

Your hips buck against his face, and he grabs your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. His fingers sink into the plush skin, and he spreads you apart, his tongue circling your clit. You shudder, and your thighs tighten around his head. He can tell you're getting close, and he can't wait to feel you fall apart, to see your face twist in pleasure, and hear his name on your lips.

He's never been good at this. He's always felt a little out of his depth, a little awkward, a little clumsy. But he's learning. He's watching your reactions, listening to the sounds you make, feeling the way your body responds. And he's paying attention, because he wants to be the only person who can make you feel like this.

He knows it's possessive. He knows it's a lot, especially since the two of you haven't talked about what this means. But he doesn't care. Not right now. He just wants you, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that's what happens.

You're writhing above him, and he can feel the muscles in your thighs tensing as his lips close around your clit. He makes sure he's got a good grip on you with one hand before sliding the other in between your thighs, and he pushes one finger inside you, and then another.

"Wrecker!"

He's pretty sure that's the hottest thing he's ever heard.

He doubles his efforts, his fingers pushing deeper and deeper. He's not even sure if he's hitting the right spot, but from the way you're writhing, and moaning, and cursing, it seems like he's doing something right. Your walls are squeezing his fingers, and he curls them, trying to find the spot that will make you scream.

You do.

Your whole body tenses, your thighs clamping hard around his head, and you throw your head back, crying out. He watches in awe, his eyes wide, and his mouth slack as you come apart above him. He can feel it, can feel your walls tightening, and the rush of heat as you climax, and he can’t resist the urge to press a kiss to the soft, swollen flesh.

"Wrecker," you choke out, your voice cracking, and he knows he's never going to get enough of this.

He keeps his fingers buried inside of you as he pulls away from the wall. You cling to him, and he carries you over to the bed, lowering you onto the mattress. His fingers slip out of you, and he watches in fascination as you clench around nothing, your body still trembling.

"Fuck," he groans, dropping to his knees and burying his head between your legs again.

You let out a noise of surprise, and his hands push your thighs open, keeping them spread wide.

"You did so good, sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips. He licks you clean, his tongue swiping through your folds. You squirm, and his grip on you tightens. "Gonna make you come again."

"Oh," you whimper, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just breathe, cyar'ika," he tells you, his lips trailing up your inner thigh. He can't get enough of the taste of you, or the way your body is reacting. You're still shaking, and the knowledge that it's because of him is making him delirious. He's pretty sure this is the best night of his life.

"I'm gonna make you feel good," he says, his voice soft and low. "I promise."

"You always make me feel good, Wrecker," you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum, nodding. "Always."

Wrecker grins and leans back, shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders. He's not sure where you want him, or how far you want to take things, but he's happy to follow your lead. He’s happy to do this all night, every night, for the rest of his life, if you asked.

He unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, his eyes never leaving you. You're looking up at him, your cheeks flushed, your chest rising and falling. He can't believe he gets to see you like this, so vulnerable and trusting.

"What is it?" you ask with a tilt of your head. The motion moves your lekku, and Wrecker's gaze follows. He's fascinated by the way they shift, and sway, and twitch. He wonders what they feel like, if you’ll let him touch them, if they're as sensitive as he's heard.

"Nothin'," he answers, shrugging.

"Liar."

"No, really," he says. Then, a grin spreads across his face, and he can't help himself, "I just like lookin' at ya."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"What about me do you like looking at, ma sareen?"

"Everything," he tells you, and the sincerity in his voice seems to catch you off guard. "Everythin' about you. You're gorgeous, and I'm lucky as hell."

"Wrecker, you're not just saying that, are you?"

"Never," he promises, "not when it comes to you."

You bite your lip, and the way your teeth sink into the plump flesh sends a rush of heat through him.

"You're too good to me," you mumble, a fondness in your eyes that makes his heart swell.

"Could never be too good to you," he replies quickly, shaking his head. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and leans back down, kissing the curve of your stomach.

"Wrecker," you sigh, your hands settling on his shoulders, "you're such a gentleman."

"A gentleman?" He laughs, his forehead resting against your hip.

"Mhm," you hum.

He glances up at you, his brows raised. "Sweetheart, I've had my face between your legs for the past fifteen minutes, and you're tellin' me I'm a gentleman?"

"Maybe I like a man who knows how to treat me," you suggest.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Wrecker chuckles, and then he kisses the top of your mound, and then the crease of your thigh, and then your knee. You make a soft noise, and his eyes flick back to your face.

"So, do you still want me to keep treatin' you?" he asks, and if the words come out a little nervous, he can't help it.

"Of course," you say, a hint of surprise in your voice, as if you can't believe he would think otherwise. You smile sweetly, and the weight in his chest lifts. "I want everything with you, Wrecker. Always."

"Good," he sighs, the tension leaving his body. "Because I want everythin', too."

Your head falls back against the pillows, your hands slipping from his shoulders to his head. You pull him closer, and he's more than happy to follow your lead.

"Then, come on, darling," you murmur, lifting your hips and spreading your legs wider, "give me everything."

Wrecker swallows thickly.

"Yes, ma'am."

His mouth is on you again, and you don't hesitate to let him know how good he's doing. You're not shy, and you're not quiet, and you're not afraid to take what you want.

And, gods, does Wrecker like that.

He's still a little in awe, a little dumbstruck by the fact that this is happening, and that it's not just some fantasy he's making up in his head. This is real, and you're here, and you're enjoying yourself, and the sound of your voice, the way you move, the softness of your body is so fucking overwhelming, it's making him delirious.

He wants to do this every night, for the rest of his life.

Your scent fills his nose, and your taste coats his tongue, and the slick, wet noises his mouth makes as he eats you out are driving him crazy. You're shaking beneath him, and your legs are draped over his shoulders, and your nails are scraping against his scalp. Your heels dig into his back, and his hands move down, holding you steady. He's not stopping until you tell him to, and from the way you're moaning, he doesn't think that's going to be anytime soon.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans, his teeth scraping against your folds. "Gonna make you come again. Gonna get you nice and ready for me."

You whimper, and he knows he's made the right choice.

"Sound good?" he asks, voice muffled by your cunt.

"Mhm," you nod.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you moan, "yes, please, please, I want you to fuck me."

"Oh, I'm gonna," he growls, his lips brushing against your clit, "but first, I'm gonna make you scream."

He's not sure where he found the confidence, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice. He's too busy trying to get you to come for him again. He's licking, and sucking, and kissing, and nibbling, and it's only when you're begging him to fuck you that he finally pulls away for air.

"Not yet," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease of your thigh.

"Please," you whimper, "please, Wrecker, I need it. Need you."

He chuckles, his stubble scratching against the inside of your thigh. "I know, sweetheart, I know. Not yet, though. Just a little more."

He slips two fingers inside you, curling them, and your whole body jolts.

"Wrecker, please, I'm so fucking wet, just—"

"I know," he grins, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Your pussy is soaked, and the sound of him fingering you is obscene. It makes him want to shove his cock into you, to feel how tight and warm you are. "Gettin' you nice and wet for me."

"Don't—don't tease me," you huff, and Wrecker laughs, kissing your clit.

"I'm not," he insists. "Just tryin' to make sure you're ready."

"Ready?"

"Mhm." He pushes his fingers deeper, and he can feel the way your walls are already fluttering, the way your muscles are twitching. You're close, and he can't wait to see what you look like when you fall apart. "Wanna make sure you can take me."

"I can," you assure him, "please, I can."

"I'm gonna make you come again," he says, his voice soft. "And then, when you're all nice and relaxed, and you're beggin' for my cock, that's when I'm gonna fuck you."

"I'm begging now," you whine.

"I know, baby," he murmurs, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. "Be patient. It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Okay," you say, and the sound comes out strangled, like it's hard for you to talk. The way your voice breaks, and your chest rises and falls has him grinning, and he leans down again, his mouth eager and insistent.

"Fuck," you gasp, "oh, fuck, Wrecker, I'm—I'm gonna—"

"Go ahead," he encourages, his voice husky, "lemme see.”

Your head falls back, your whole body trembling as you come for the second time that night. It's even more beautiful than the first, and the way you pull his fingers deeper has him moaning against you. He doesn't stop until you're pushing him away, and even then, he doesn't go far.

Wrecker pulls back, slowly, his eyes on yours. You're breathing heavily, and your cheeks are flushed. Somewhere along the way the headpiece you were wearing had come loose, and it's resting on the pillow next to you. Your eyes are hooded, a dazed look on your face, and you look absolutely gorgeous.

"That was so fucking hot," he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Wrecker, that was..." you trail off, letting out a quiet sigh. "I've never come twice that fast before."

"Really?"

You shake your head, laughing breathlessly. "Nope."

"So, I guess I did a good job?"

"Good?" you repeat, looking almost offended. "Darling, it was incredible."

He grins wide and presses a kiss to your stomach. You cup his cheek, and your thumb brushes his lip. It's damp with your arousal, and the realization sends a wave of heat through him.

"I'm just glad I made you feel good," he says.

"Trust me, you did," you assure him, and the earnestness in your voice has his cheeks flushing.

"Glad to hear it," he murmurs. He nips at the underside of your breast, and you whimper.

"Wrecker," you mumble.

"Mhm?"

"Come here."

"Why?"

"Because," you answer, sitting up and grabbing his tie, "I want to kiss you."

He lets out a laugh. "Is that all?"

"No," you say, and the honesty in your tone makes him shiver. You tug on the tie, pulling him towards you until your lips meet in a messy kiss. He's careful not to put his weight on you, keeping most of it on his forearms as he presses closer. Your tongue is hot and insistent against his, and when your teeth scrape his bottom lip, a groan escapes his throat.

"Please," you mumble against his lips. "Please, Wrecker, fuck me."

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he grunts, a smirk on his face.

He kisses you again, and it's rough and needy and a little clumsy. Your hands are roaming across his back, and when they tug on his shirt, he reaches around, pulling the hem out of his pants and working the buttons open.

He doesn't have the patience to undo them all, so he tears the shirt and tie off and tosses them aside. He breathes a sigh of relief at finally being free from the restrictive fabric, only to suck in a sharp breath as your nails scrape his sides. The sensation sends a shiver through him, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, panting.

You don't let up, your hands exploring the planes and divots of his bare chest. His skin is on fire, and his muscles are flexing beneath your touch. Your mouth finds his neck as your fingers move to undo his belt, and his whole body jolts.

You hum, pleased, and Wrecker knows he's in trouble.

Your teeth sink into his shoulder, and your tongue swipes over the marks, and when you press a kiss to his pulse point, he has to remind himself not to get carried away. He's not even inside you yet, and he's already on the verge of losing control.

"Wrecker, I'm tired of waiting," you whine, your hand sliding under his pants and squeezing his ass. "I need you."

"Shit," he curses, his cock twitching in his boxers. "I need you, too."

"Then, what are you waiting for?"

"Nothin'," he says, sitting up. "Absolutely nothin'."

He gets to his feet, pulling off his shoes and socks faster than he's ever undressed in his life. He shoves his pants and boxers down, and his cock springs free. You let out a quiet noise, and he feels a surge of pride as your eyes move down his body, and widen.

"Oh, Wrecker," you breathe, and the awe in your voice is so fucking satisfying. "You're..."

"Yeah?"

"It's so big," you murmur.

He feels the tips of his ears burn. He knows he's big. He's bigger than most, and he's always been worried about scaring people off.

"Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, nodding.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

He's not convinced. "It's okay if you can't, y'know."

"I know, Wrecker," you answer, sounding amused. "I can handle it."

"I just don't want to hurt you."

"I know. And it's sweet. But if you don't come here and fuck me right now, I'm going to go crazy."

"Well, we can't have that," he mutters, a smile playing on his lips.

He climbs back onto the bed, and you move to meet him halfway, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you kneel together. Your chest presses against his, and you're so warm and soft, and he feels like he's going to melt.

He kisses the tip of your lek, and you let out a squeak, and the sound is so cute, he has to kiss the other one, too. He wants to kiss every part of you, and he plans to, someday. Right now, though, he's got something more important to take care of.

His mouth finds yours, and he cups the back of your neck, holding you still. You're pressed together, skin to skin, and he can feel the heat radiating from your body. Your hands are moving over his shoulders, down his chest, across his stomach, and when your fingers wrap around his cock, his hips buck.

"Fuck," he groans.

You give him a slow, languid stroke, and his eyes nearly roll back.

"You're beautiful," you whisper, your hand moving up and down, spreading precum along his length. You press a kiss to his shoulder, and then his collarbone, and his jaw, and his chin, and his mouth.

"I—ah," he grunts, his forehead falling to rest on yours, "You're kiddin', right?"

"Why would I be kidding?"

"You've got a lot more goin' for ya than me," he replies, his cheeks flushing. "A hell of a lot more."

"Nonsense," you say, shaking your head. Your grip tightens, and his breath catches in his throat. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen, and the things I want to do to you are..."

"Are what?"

"I'd rather show you," you admit, and there's something in your voice that makes his heart skip a beat.

"Well, go ahead, then," he encourages, giving you a toothy grin. "Show me."

Wrecker lets out a surprised yelp when you grab his shoulders and push him back, his back hitting the mattress. He laughs, and then you're on top of him, and his laughter dies, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.

You're straddling his waist, and the sight of your naked body above him is the most incredible thing he's ever seen. His hands move on their own, running across your thighs, your hips, and your ribs.

"This is a good look for you," you say, smirking.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

You lean down and kiss him, and he can't help the way his hands wander, one moving up to squeeze your ass, and the other finding your breast. He can't get enough of you, and he doesn't know if he ever will. He squeezes, and rolls, and fondles, and when his thumb brushes your nipple, you break the kiss with a soft moan. You pull away, and he chases after you, his lips pressing against yours.

"Wrecker, stop," you giggle, swatting his hand away.

"I can't help it," he tells you, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your neck. "You're too kriffin' sexy."

"I need you inside me," you say, pushing his shoulders back. "And I'm not going to be able to get there if you keep distracting me."

"Alright," he sighs, falling back against the mattress. "Go ahead, I'll be patient."

"Good boy."

His eyes go wide, and his cock throbs at the words. He knows he likes being praised, and he's not ashamed to admit that, but the way it makes him react is almost embarrassing.

"Oh," you grin, and the mischief in your eyes has his heart racing. "You like that?"

"Yeah," he nods, his cheeks flushing.

"What else do you like?" you ask, leaning forward and grinding against him.

He swallows thickly. "Um."

"Wrecker," you say softly, and his eyes dart up to yours.

"I—" he stammers, his gaze flicking back down to your cunt. "I, uh—you know, I've never really had anyone ask me that before."

"Well, consider this the first time," you tell him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Tell me."

"Uh."

"Come on," you urge, kissing the other side, "tell me what you like."

"I like makin' you feel good," he blurts out. "I like it rough, I like bein' told what to do. I like knowin' I'm doin' a good job. And I like you, so—so just...tell me how you feel, or somethin', and I'll be happy."

"I can work with that."

You sit up, and the motion brings your pussy closer to his cock. He watches with wide eyes as you raise yourself up and guide his cock between your folds, the tip brushing against your entrance. His hips twitch, and his hands come up to grip your waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

"Kriff, you're gorgeous," he breathes, his eyes on the place where his cock is just barely penetrating you. "You're amazing."

"So are you," you reply.

He's not sure he agrees, but he doesn't have time to argue, because you're sinking down onto him, and his brain stops working.

You let out a quiet sigh, and Wrecker tries his best to keep his composure, but the wet, hot, tightness is too much. His hands tighten, his fingers digging into your sides before he realizes what he's doing. He relaxes his grip, his palms sliding across your skin, his eyes still on where your bodies are joined.

"Shit, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I just—"

"Don't apologize," you interrupt, your hips shifting, and his cock pushes a little deeper.

"I can't help it," he huffs, "I don't wanna hurt you."

"You're not hurting me," you promise, one hand settling on his chest. The other takes his hand, and you lift it up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "I'll tell you if you are, alright? So, don't worry. Just relax."

"Okay," he nods, taking a deep breath. "I can do that."

"Good boy," you praise, and Wrecker feels a wave of heat crash through him.

Your hips shift, and you sink down another inch. He lets out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into a fist. Your mouth is hot and insistent against his knuckles, your tongue swiping over the sensitive skin. You kiss his fingertips, and then his palm, and then the back of his hand. You nip at the fleshy part beneath his thumb, and he hisses, the sensation sending sparks up his arm.

"Fuck," he groans, and his hips buck, and his cock slides a little further inside.

"You're so big," you murmur, your hand sliding up his arm and over his chest. Your nails scrape his skin, and he trembles. "So fucking big, Wrecker."

"Yeah?"

You nod, your mouth open, and your cheeks flushed. Your eyes are a little glassy, and your breathing is shallow, and he can't believe how lucky he is to be here, with you, in this moment.

"I'm gonna—gonna make you feel good," he promises, and you laugh, your walls fluttering around him.

"Oh, darling," you sigh, lifting your hips and sinking back down, taking him a little deeper, "you already are."

His eyes squeeze shut, and his grip on you tightens. He tries to remember to breathe, and not to buck his hips, and not to pull you down and bury himself to the hilt. You're still kissing his hand, and the softness of your lips has him melting, his shoulders falling back against the bed.

"Look at me, ma sareen," you murmur.

Wrecker does.

The sight that greets him nearly sends him over the edge. You're hovering above him, his cock buried inside you, your lekku dangling in the space between your bodies. The lights in the room are dim, but the glow is bright enough to highlight the curve of your breasts, the swell of your hips, and the way your skin seems to shimmer.

You're breathtaking.

"You're amazin'," he says again, because he doesn't have anything better to say.

"You're so sweet," you chuckle, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love that about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

You kiss him again, and his mouth opens under yours. He groans when you bite his bottom lip, his hands moving to your hips, guiding your movements. You roll your hips, and his cock slips out of you, before sliding back in. You do it again, and again, and again, until the tip of his cock nudges against the end of your channel.

"Oh, shit," you gasp, sitting up, and bracing your hands against his stomach. "Oh, gods, Wrecker, you're—you're so fucking deep."

"Does it feel good?"

"So fucking good," you whimper.

He sits up and wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He can feel the tips of your lekku resting on his chest, and they're even softer than he imagined. He presses a kiss to the base of one, and then the other, and then he's kissing your neck, his stubble scratching against your skin.

"Ah," you sigh, your hips rocking. "Wrecker, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Good," he growls, and then he grabs your ass and pulls you down onto his cock.

You let out a surprised cry, and then you're moving faster, grinding down on his length. He thrusts up, his hips meeting yours. Your hands are everywhere, roaming across his back, his shoulders, and his chest. You're not shy about it, and you don't hold back. You squeeze, and stroke, and touch every part of him, and it's making him dizzy.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you moan, and Wrecker grunts, his teeth scraping the base of your lekku. "So fucking good, Wrecker."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum, and then you're pulling away, and his chest aches at the loss. You push him back against the pillows, and he stares up at you, his lips parted as you ride him, bouncing up and down. Your hands are planted on his chest, and your nails are digging into his skin.

He watches in awe as you take him, his cock disappearing between your legs. No one's ever taken him like this, no one's ever been able to handle him the way you are. You're not afraid, and you're not shy, and you're not afraid to get what you want.

"You're kriffin' perfect," he says, and then he's reaching for you, his hands cupping your face.

Wrecker kisses you, and the sound that leaves your throat is so needy, and desperate, that he can't help but thrust up into you, harder and faster. His tongue slides into your mouth, and you suck on it, drawing a groan from his chest. He's trying to hold on, to last as long as he can, but it's not easy. Not when you're riding him like this, and making him feel like this.

You pull away with a gasp and bury your face in his neck, and the warmth of your breath makes him shiver. He can't see your face, but he can feel the way you're shaking, can hear the quiet noises you're making.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice rough.

"So much," you whine.

"Gonna come for me?"

"Yes, please, yes," you whimper.

"Gonna scream for me?"

"Oh, Wrecker," you moan, your teeth sinking into his shoulder, and the pain goes straight to his cock. "Wrecker, you're making me—I'm so close, please, harder."

He doesn't hesitate to follow your orders.

He lifts his legs, spreading them wider, and you slide a little further down his length. His hips snap up, and your whole body jolts. The first slap of skin against skin has him groaning, and the second has him cursing, and by the time his balls are slapping against your ass, you're begging him not to stop.

He's not sure he could, even if he wanted to. He thrusts again, and again, his pace building. Your cunt is dripping, the wetness seeping from your entrance, and the lewd squelching sound fills the room.

His hand cups the back of your head, holding you close. You nuzzle against his shoulder, your lips pressed to his collarbone, and the sensation is so fucking intimate, so sweet, he's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to hold out.

"Sweetheart," he grunts, and he doesn't have the words to continue, doesn't know how to tell you he's going to come, doesn't want this to end.

"You're so good," you whisper, and he can feel his balls tightening, "so fucking good, Wrecker."

"Can I—I'm gonna come," he warns.

"Oh, fuck, me, too."

"Where—where do you want me?"

"Inside," you whine, and Wrecker has to grit his teeth to keep from coming on the spot. "Wrecker, inside, please, fill me up, I want it, want you."

"Shit," he groans, "fuck, fuck, sweetheart, you're—oh, shit, I'm—"

Your body goes stiff, your walls fluttering around his cock, and his mouth falls open. He's not prepared for the feeling of your pussy gripping his length, or the sound of your breathy moans. He's not prepared for the way your thighs tremble, or the way your back arches, or the way his name spills from your lips.

He's not prepared for the orgasm that crashes over him, the heat and the pleasure that rushes through his veins, and the way his whole body shudders as he comes inside you.

He can't remember the last time he came this hard, the last time he lost control like this. The feeling of your cunt around him is too much, and his head falls back, his eyes squeezing shut. The only thing that keeps him tethered to reality is the sound of your voice in his ear, a string of words in a language he doesn’t understand falling from your lips.

Wrecker holds you, his arms wrapping around you, and his hips buck, his cock twitching. He can't get enough, can't stop coming, can't stop fucking up into you. Your moans are soft, and gentle, and it's not until his own climax has subsided that he realizes you’re slumped against him, your breathing heavy, your face pressed to his neck.

"Shit, sorry, cyar'ika," he mutters as he realizes his grip has tightened. He moves to pull his hands away, but you reach out, taking his wrists and placing his hands back on your waist.

"No," you whimper, "please."

"Sweetheart, I'm hurtin' you."

"Just a little longer," you tell him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the base of his throat.

He's not sure why, but the request brings tears to his eyes. You want him. You want him to hold you, and touch you, and the realization makes his heart swell.

"Alright," he agrees, and you sigh and nestle closer.

He lays there, his softening cock still buried inside you, his arms around you, and his fingers find their way to your lekku. He strokes them gently, and you shiver, your body trembling.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you answer, your voice barely above a whisper. "It feels nice."

"Good," he says, smiling. "I like touchin' you."

"I can tell," you laugh and press a kiss to his chest.

He continues, his fingertips tracing a path down the side of one, and then the other. He doesn't know how much time passes. He's lost in the feeling of you, in the warmth of your body, in the softness of your skin. He doesn't even realize his eyes are closed until he hears you laughing.

"What?" Wrecker asks, opening his eyes and looking down at you.

"Are you asleep?"

"No," he answers, shaking his head, though the blush on his face gives him away. "I was just restin' my eyes."

"You sure?" you ask, and there's a teasing tone in your voice.

"I'm sure," he says, and then you're pulling away. His arms drop, and his cock slips out of your cunt, and his mouth falls open. Your combined release is leaking out of you, dripping down his cock and onto his stomach.

"Wow," he breathes.

"Is it a bad 'wow' or a good 'wow'?" you ask, your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

"The good kind," he answers, his eyes roaming over your body before returning to your face. His brows furrow. "Can I kiss you?"

"Wrecker, you don't have to ask," you tell him.

"Well, um," he starts, his cheeks turning pink. "It's just, I'm not really good at this part."

"What part?"

"The after part," he tells you. "I mean, it's always been, you know, in the dark, or quick, and I don't know how you feel about kissing and cuddlin' after, and I just...I dunno, I just like you, and I want to do it right."

"Oh, Wrecker," you laugh, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I like kissing and cuddling."

"You do?"

"I do," you nod, a smile on your face. "There's nothing more I'd rather do than kiss you, and cuddle with you, and hold you, and fall asleep with you. That is, if you'll have me."

"Oh.” He blinks. "Yeah, um, I'd like that a lot."

"Then, by all means, darling," you tell him, "kiss me."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod, grinning. "Please."

Wrecker leans forward, his hand cupping your cheek, and he presses his lips to yours. He licks into your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours, and the soft moan that leaves your lips makes his heart soar.

"You're incredible," he breathes, and the smile on your face is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You are too," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I hope that was everything you were hoping for."

"It was even better," he says, his hand moving down and resting on your hip. "Can we do it again?"

"Right now?" you ask, and he can't help but laugh.

"I was thinkin' tomorrow, maybe," he tells you, his thumb stroking your skin. "I'm gonna be honest, sweetheart, I don't think I'm gonna be able to go again for a while."

"Me either," you reply, laughing.

"But," he starts, his grip on your waist tightening, "when I am, you want to?”

"Of course," you tell him, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. "I have some other ideas I'd like to run by you, if you're interested."

"I'm very interested." He grins. "Lets get cleaned up, and then you can tell me all about ‘em.”

"Mm," you whine, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “But I don’t want to move.”

“Not a problem,” he replies, and before you can say anything, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him. You squeal, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he slides off the bed, holding you against him.

"Wrecker, put me down," you giggle.

"You're the one who didn't want to move," he reminds you.

"Put me down," you say, but your voice is full of laughter, and you’re smiling.

"No," he teases, shaking his head.

"Wrecker," you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Sweetheart," he replies, mimicking your tone. “I’m a gentleman, remember? And a gentleman always carries his girl to the shower."

"In that case," you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his throat, "thank you, sir."

He walks toward the refresher, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, and his chest is bursting with pride. You're smiling, and laughing, and holding onto him, and it feels like a dream.

Wrecker sits you on the edge of the counter, and you wince, a soft hiss leaving your lips.

"You okay?"

"Just a little sore," you admit.

"Shit," he curses. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no," you shake your head, your hand finding his wrist and squeezing. "It's a good sore, I promise. You were wonderful."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip. "Best I've ever had."

He laughs. "That can't be true."

"Well, it is," you tell him, and he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "I mean, I've never felt anything like it."

He smiles, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. You reach up, your fingertips brushing against his cheek, and he turns, kissing the palm of your hand.

"You're not just sayin' that, are ya?" he asks.

"Why would I?"

"I dunno," he admits.

"Wrecker," you sigh, your thumb brushing across his lower lip, "it's been a long time since I've felt anything for anyone. The truth is, I've had a crush on you for months. You're sweet, and kind, and funny, and the things you did tonight...the way you made me feel, the way you treated me...I've never felt so safe. Or special.”

"It was nothin'," he says, his cheeks flushing.

"It wasn't nothing," you insist, and he knows the look in your eyes means you're not going to let it go. "You made me feel beautiful, and wanted, and cared for, and I'll never be able to thank you enough for that. And it's going to take a lot more than a rough fuck to get rid of me."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Yes," you say, pressing a kiss to his chin.

"Okay," he nods. "So, we're gonna try this, huh?"

"Do you want to?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course I do," he laughs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs. "I just didn't want to push."

"Well, consider this your official invitation," you tell him, your hands sliding down and squeezing his biceps. "I'm all yours."

"All mine, huh?"

"Yep."

"Good," he nods, and then he's scooping you back up and carrying you toward the shower. "Because I'm all yours, too."

"Even better," you laugh, and the sound is like music to his ears.

Wrecker kisses you again, his hands gripping your thighs, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. You smile against his lips, and he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. He's not sure how this happened. He's not sure why you picked him. But he doesn't care.

All he cares about is the feeling of your lips against his, and the sound of your laughter filling the room. All he cares about is the taste of your mouth, and the warmth of your skin, and the way his chest swells every time you look at him.

He doesn't know where this is going, or how far it will go, but he knows one thing.

He wants it. All of it. With you.

Translation: ma sareen = Ryl for "my sweet"

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

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#wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker #wrecker #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker wednesday #the bad batch wrecker #the bad batch #clone x reader #clone smut #wrecker tbb #wrecker bad batch #the bad batch x reader #the clone wars #roy writes #listen work was a real shitshow today #so even an ounce of criticism could kill me outright #please be nice to me

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oliviaswrldd · 9 months

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✰

Hi guys, it's me again i i didn't knew that i'll share with something here again, but i am so take this info as you want. I hope it helps at least one person :))

I just scrolled through tumblr as i usually do and one post made me realize something. One girl said that she entered void state within 30 minutes. 30 minutes.

Let's skip manifestation, subliminals etc. - everything what we ""use"" to enter the Void State. We all know that all we need is OURSELVES and our own mind, but i won't repeat the same things that you probably heard 19993728 times.

When you are "trying" to enter the void state how long you're doing your method or non-method and then eventually fall asleep or give up and roll over to sleep?

All we need to do is simply Relax, Relax, Relax.

I admit, so many times when i'm "trying" achieve void i'm far away from relax, because i'm thinking when i'll enter? how long it takes yet?maybe i should try tommorow or other shit which turns into overthinking about me being mad how i can't enter the void state... Which results in me finally falling asleep (ik you can enter by waking up there) and the cycle repeating. You get me, right?

Reason why i'm saying about it is because i know there's so much more people thinking and doing like this. Even if my self-concept about void is actually good and i don't get distracted about 3D (of course sc doesn't matter at all when it comes to void!) i still see what i'm doing wrong.

The next time when you'll be "trying" to enter the void state just RELAX. You can let thoughts come and pass - just simply stop give a fuck about what if? when? how?

And don't look at the time. You are laying and doing ur method and thinking oh, i'm trying to enter the void almost 20 minutes, nothing is happening. What i'm doing wrong?

THAT'S THE POINT

Just simply Relax and don't care. Maybe give yourself chance to enter? (i'm talking about me as well) What's the point how long it takes when it comes to finally living your life from wildest dreams and making all your dreams come true!!

Of course ik you don't have to enter the void to have it everything but i'm kinda void state girl hehe

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

I'm seriously considering posting more here because i have actually so much to say (not about void actually, because most of things has already been said) about shifting, my own journey and dr.

And thank y'all for the good reception of my previous post, I'm glad it reached more people

Have a nice day/night 🖤

#void state #void success stories #reality shifting #the void state #manifestation #manifesting #shifting #loa tumblr #void state blog #shiftblr #persistence #assume and persist #oliviaswrldd

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hyunjilicious · 1 year

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most to least kinky [skz ver.]

A/n: this has probably been done a million times before but I thought I could make my own list, right?

Warnings: this isn't full on smut, but A LOT of things are mentioned (from slapping to ass eating to crying to cnc) I can't possibly mention them all. Needless to say, this is strictly 18+, please proceed with caution!!!!

Disclaimer: I'm sorry. I'm incredibly sorry, ok? I don't understand Seungmin 😭😭 I absolutely love him with all my heart, but he's a mystery to me. I've also only been in this fandom for a few months so maybe with time I'll be able to write for him but until then, I'll just keep apologising to my Minnie biased readers for doing their baby dirty. I'm sorry, I promise I'm trying!! 🥺

Please let me know what you thought and if you have other ideas!! I'd love to hear different opinions!!!

1. Lee Know

Do I even have to explain? At this point, you could basically write an entire encyclopedia only using the stuff this man is into - he knows it all and wants to try it all. The thing is, whether he trusts you enough or not, because if he's too shy to bring up the one thing that's on his mind, he'll bombard you with hints, hoping he'd "manipulate" you into mentioning it first. Not that he'd ever do anything you're not 100% comfortable with, but he'd much rather you be the one who asks. He'd slap your ass, bite it, mark it, grope it, eat your pussy from behind and send you porn links - all while hoping you'd finally get the idea and ask him to eat your ass. Because he's shy like that. But once you do catch on and tell him about it, he's all in.

And then, as he grows more comfortable around you, all these little games you two play will slowly start to shift. His main priority will always be you, but with time, his teasing nature will replace the old Minho you used to have sex with, and literally everything this man does will be about driving you insane.

He'd make you beg, whine, crawl on your knees, hump pillows - hump his leg, just so you can prove yourself, only to deny you again, always with a grin on his face. A loving smile as he looks at you, right before he throws a very swift "No" in your face and makes you start over. You have to be spent, exhausted, dumb and drunk on him before he finally gives you what you want. But when he finally does, it's everything you ever wanted and more because he doesn't.hold.back.

2. Jeongin

To be fair, it might be because he had to go through the "Watch your mouth, there's a child in our grup!" phase, which - cute and all, got old very fast. Maybe this side of him would have never surfaced like this, but you can't possibly know, there's only one Jeongin and he's a meanie. He's stern, he's serious and there's only one way, his.

He takes the safe word very seriously because otherwise, he doesn't take no for an answer. There's no "too much", "too hard", "too fast". He doesn't care. He knows you can take it and you have to.

You don't move, he moves you. If you don't shut up when he tells you to, it's 'ass up, face down into the pillow' - no questions, no warnings.

It all starts nicely, though. His good little girl, his angel, who needs to do absolutely everything she's told otherwise his punishments will be downright cruel and you'll be nothing more than a "dumb, fucking whore" until he's done with you.

One thing that makes him draw the line though, is crying. He loves to see little tears at the corner of your eyes as he fucks you into oblivion, just so he can mock you for it, "Oh, is my sweet, little baby crying?" and then go faster. But if you let out anything more than a cute, little sob, or if you start actually crying, even though you're still down to keep going, he won't. He can't. He's cruel, but not that cruel, it hurts his heart to see you like that and absolutely never lets things get that far.

3. Felix

This man is into… everything. His eyes light up every single time there's something new for you two to try, and he puts his whole soul into it.

On one hand, he's into the basics - he goes crazy for your tits, will lick, bite, suck and eat anything off of them (absolutely adores eating cream off your body, but yeah, your tits are his favorite spot). He loves lingerie, loves ripping it off of you, loves seeing you dress up, pretend to be a nurse, a teacher or the girl next-door who just so happened to leave the window open.

Doesn't have a daddy kink but he's just so obsessed with doing absolutely anything for you, he'd go with it. Most likely prefers 'Sir' but it isn't a must. Will melt and cry if you allow him to fall you 'Mommy'

The definition of a switch. When he's a dom, 90% of the time he's soft, full of praises and encouragements, loves making you feel all safe and loved as you degrade yourself for him. He'll whisper in your ear the absolute sweetest, most loving words you ever heard in your entire life, all while completely breaking you in half with his cock. But also, there are times when there's just one way for him to relax and let loose, and during those days, he's lazy and he's condescending, judgy and a little bit mean, and these are the absolute worst moments for you to be brat.

But all of these are only half of him, because this man is probably the most dedicated and enthusiastic sub in the world. He'll do absolutely everything he's told and then beg for more. Way too eager to humiliate himself for you. Also very, very vocal, he'll cry, whine and beg and will also never fail to let you know just how obsessed he is with worshiping the ground you walk on.

4. Chan

Also a switch, but it takes months, if not more, for you guys to get there. He's a leader by nature, used to having a lot of responsibilities and a lot of control over the things around him. He likes to be in charge, knows how to do it, and loves the responses he gets. Probably one of the best doms out there because even though you have a safe word, he's so fucking careful with you at all times that he knows to slow down before you even have to think about using it. It only happened once, and your voice still rings in his head - he still hasn't forgiven himself for it.

But since he's so observant and trusts you to put a stop to whatever is going on in case you need to, he feels free to go crazy. Unlike Jeongin, he likes to hear you cry, likes knowing he has that power over you and the fact you know how easy it is for him to absolutely wreck and ruin you, but still allow him to go crazy, drives him wild. Trust is probably what gets him off the most, he absolutely adores how you give up control and leave yourself at his mercy.

But then again, as your relationship strengthens and he slowly realizes that maybe he doesn't always have to be the one to do it all, that others can take care of him too, that he can actually let loose and renounce all control, you start to see another side of him.

He's an exemplary sub, not one brat bone in his body. He tries sometimes to test you, but he goes back to being doe eyed and whiny for you in no time. He's not as vocal and not as eager to let all his enthusiasm show, but just like Felix, he'll do absolutely anything you tell him, and then thank you for allowing him to do it.

5. Han

Another switch. He can be a dom and he can be a sub, but I think there are two other sides of him. This man will go back and forth between being the absolute, most cocky motherf on the planet, to being absolutely wiped and wrapped around your finger. And while these for aspects of him can pair up in any way, leaving you with a teasing dom, a loving and soft one, or a bratty sub that will try to make you prove to him just how badly you need him to worship you and so on, I think he's not always like this.

You can't really tell whether there's a pattern, but maybe if you spent more time together you'd be able to spot one. Maybe it depends on how his day went, how tired he is, how his social batteries are like at the moment, but I think there are many, many days when this man just needs to feel you, to smell you, hear you. To collapse into the sheets with you, forget about the world and melt in your arms. Yeah, he's down to try a lot of stuff, but what he loves the most are the simple things. Like missionary late at night, with the lights on so he can see every glimmer of anything in your eyes, to wipe the sweat off your temples and to be able to smother you with kisses. Impromptu sex in the morning, lazy sex in the shower, cuddling that turns into you riding him on the couch while watching a movie. That's what I think he's into the most.

6. Changbin

Thank god this man is not the kinkiest because he'd probably break you in half and no amount of aftercare would be able to fix that. This man goes hard. No matter if you're the one that woke him up, all needy and clingy, or if he came home riled and ready to go, he's already ready to give you his all. That dumptruck isn't there for nothing, he doesn't even have to try that hard to make you scream.

But it's not just physical, he goes all out in all ways. He doesn't just want you on your back, legs spread open so he can eat you out, no, you have to be on his face, full weight down on top of him, and you have to ride. Other than that, you don't really have to do much, because he's a sucker for handling you. He'll hold up your weight when he fucks you against the dresser and he doesn't mind being the one who gets rid of all the clothes in the way when he randomly decides he wants to fuck you bent over the kitchen table.

So I don't think he needs much more than you two already have. Of course, he's usually fine with trying things you're into, and yeah, he likes them, but that's just more like 'fun' to him. He's not the kind to call you degrading names or spank you until you cry, through he might enjoy a little bit too much seeing his hand print on your ass or the bruises he left on your hips just from hard he was holding onto you while fucking you into oblivion.

Out of all the things you'd get him to try, I think one of his favorites would be wax play. He'll probably ask you to do it again, maybe like 3 months later. Also, one other thing that gets him going and that he still might be shy about it, is just how hard his cock twitched when you called him daddy. Oops. I don't like it, please do it again.

7. Seungmin

Ok, again, disclaimer with this one. I wanna start by apologizing to Minnie and to all the Minnie biased readers that are here with us today, but I can't read this man. At all. And that's the reason I put him so low on the list because while I do have some ideas, associating him with certain kinks and stuff felt completely empty to me. Like I have no idea what he'd like? But in case you've read this far, lemme tell you what I did manage to come up with and please let me know how you see it!!

I think trust, communication and fun are the most important to him. I feel like he'd have so much fun guiding you and giving you instructions on how to do different things, from how to suck him off just the way he needs it, to how to use a toy on yourself. And I think it goes both ways, he'd love to have you tell exactly how and what to do at all times.

I also think he can be stern and commanding, serious and totally focused, but he also probably adores being a giggling mess, unable to control himself as you give him your all, worship him and make him feel absolutely cherished. I'm sorry, but I feel like this man thrives on love and appreciation. Other than that, my brain is empty, please help me!!

8. Hyunjin

Ok, maaaaybe I shouldn't have put him last. But fuck it. Sue me. I don't think he's kinky at all. I think that again, he'd be the type to try out most of the things you come up with, but I don't think he associates them with sex like that. I think it's just some form of fun you two have, I don't think there are too many crazy things that necessarily get him going.

He's a romantic, ok? His main goal is pleasure. He's the kind to absolutely not give a shit about anything, all that he needs is you. If he has you and a surface (not even mandatory) he's satisfied. He'll do absolutely anything, worship every single inch of your body. The kind to kiss his way up your leg before eating you out, to kiss you before you even finished swallowing his cum. Nothing to him is gross, to him, bodies are beautiful and made to be worshiped. He'd paint your body, lay back and allow you to do absolutely anything you want to him, he's just full of want and passion.

I don't think he'd ever be the kind of person to associate pain or humiliation with pleasure. Like he knows they're valid kinks and will not shame anyone about it, but with him, you have to feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, loved, cradled and appreciated in absolutely every way.

Absolutely the type to eat your ass and then be like "What? People don't do that?". Doesn't think spitting in each other's mouths is degrading because, "We literally kiss all the time, what?"

Will ask you to slap him just to see what it's like but will probably malfunction if you ask him to do it to you.

I think he'd be down for a lot of stuff, but doesn't see any of them as kinks. Doesn't need any of them. They don't get him hard. It's all just for fun.

Please let me know what you thought!! I'd love to talk about this!!! ❤️

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primrosebow · 6 months

Note

Do you draw or write for the girls? Because I would love seeing any type of Lute, Charlie or Vaggie art in your style

Also I would eat your art 20/10

Short answer: yahhh xoxo💞

Long answer:

_-->Various hazbin hotel women x reader // art

!Content warnings!:the usual nsfw, this has the gals listed in the ask🫡 a few headcannons added for flavor, gn reader cause I never specified literally anything, more words than usual.

We are SO BACK 💪💪💪 request things ‼️ My activities would get me perma banned from the vatican, I'm afraid.

Charlie //

I, unlike most other people here, believe that charlie most often tries to take the role of a dom! She's used to trying to fix everyone else's problems, but, she'll crumble if she ever gets treated like the perfect princess that she is. Call her beautiful, praise her, give her that affection she desperately needs. She's been helping her citizens for so long, she deserves to get taken care of!

Honestly, when you slowly push that vibrator inside her after what felt like an agonizing ammount of time for prepping, she was ready to cry on the spot. She can barely believe you even talked her into being in the receiving end of this -she's the one supposed to be pleasing you!- Getting this much attention and love made her brain go all fuzzy and tears well up in her eyes as her limbs felt weak; she was trembling far too much from the overwhelming pleasure she felt right then to truly care about what this whole situation did to her ego.

She doesn't realize her horns have made an appearence as she pleads with you: come on! You were giving her so much attention just a minute ago! Please! Being as close to you as possible is her only wish right now. Her pitiful tone and cries for you directly contradict how her tail is shaking at it's tip, much like that of an excited cat -she's enjoying this far more than she expected-.

If you do decide to give in and finally rub on her already overstimulated clit just as you had been doing before, she'll cling onto you for dear life- practically sobbing as you give her precisely what she needs. Maybe she can get used to being treated nicely by you. (She learns that she cannot get enough of the overwhelming passionate act of letting you be in control, it's far too good for her to only experience it once.

She'll soon get a little cocky though... she isn't the daughter of the king of pride just because of her name, if you catch what I'm throwing)

// //

Vaggie //

Vaggie has placed quite a notorious quantity of expectations on herself. She's always been this way, and, continues to be despite your affirmations of her worth. Your constant and relentless words of praise to her: how beautiful she is, how strong, how perfect, how brave, how hot- it all got to her head very quickly. Your words contradicted her thoughts on herself but the way you kiss along her neck makes any thought melt away from her brain and be replaced with pure emotion.

// //

"Mh.. please, darling- I-" she tried to form a sentence, eventually getting cut off by her own moans. Her nightgown was pushed up as she laid with her back against your bed, squirming slightly as she feels your fingers rub against her insides. She clenches around you as you drag your thumb over her swolen clit, which was begging for your attention since the very start of this. Her hips stutter as she can't pick between indulging the stimulation and running away from the pleasure.

Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open, but you had told her to look at you during this. She couldn't let you down. Not when you were saying she was "doing so good f'me". Those are some of the few words that can pierce through the thick veil of the ecstasy-like feeling of your attention and carve themselves into her very soul. She was good. Good for you. She couldn't ask for anything better, and, won't- can't be letting you down.

You.. leave her easy tasks such as looking at you and being a little quieter just so she feels like she's still, in some way, being useful to you. Slow and steady wins the race, and, soon enough you hope to remove the constant anxiety of servicing you from the act of love you want to give her.

Lute //

Lute is quite interesting because she has this weird duality between wanting approval and not being able to take said approval. Sometimes, she'll activelly attempt to rile you up enough that you'll punish her (something you have already told her is not necessary, since you can be harsher on her if she simply asks) but please don't blame her! She's just used to being treated roughly, it's "safer" for her to stay in her comfort zone of thorns and cruel words at first.

But only at first. Like I said, she really does want to feel loved. One of the first times you attempted to give her the affection she craves, after having learned that she can't deal with the purely lovey, sappy affection yet, you had to get resourceful with bringing her the love she needs.

"Awh sweetheart, you can't handle this?" You dig your fingers even deeper into her, a squelching noise arises from the action because of just how wet she already is. She groans at your words, and, if you didn't know any better, she'd have sounded like any other cheap sinner from lust with how aroused she was at your teasing. But you do know better. Your comment- it was slightly mocking, it was maddening; it was a challenge. For her to keep her composure for as long as she can. Lute grabs onto you even harder so she can regain some sense of stability, finally locking eyes with you. She moves her hips slightly against your fingers. Despite it being her own action, she groans. She says in a shaky tone

"Do your worst."

Ah, you can't deny such a request, now, can you?

// //

BONUSSSSSSSSS‼️

Velvette //

"Agh- fuck you! H-ah-" she tried to act mad, don't get her wrong. She really did. But that's astoundingly hard to do when your lover has their hand in your panties and is currently relentlessly and harshly rubbing against your clit like it was the last thing they'll ever touch.

You really could not have picked a worse time to do this; right before one of her new collection showcases? Did you want her to die? You forcefully push her thighs apart when she pressed them toguether, not letting her even attempt to get back a semblance of composure. As if that wasn't enough, you had locked her bracelets toguether behind her back, and, even if she wouldn't admit it to a single soul, it really turned her on.

She tried to think as hard as she could, try to offend you, try to play her own pleasure down, but she really couldn't. Empty remarks about your incompetence or appearence or literally anything she could get her mind around slowly melted away into moans and whines, the much too familiar shame from getting overwhelmed so easily by you also pushed aside by a desperate search for her own release.

When she finally did cum, she doesn't hold back on how loud her moan of your name was, her thighs trembled as she leaned on your body for support. She intentionally turns her head away from the mirror so she won't be faced by her own overstimulated self, and much less your self-satisfied grin as you watch her panting against you.

Oh gods... what was she doing again? Hmm.. OH YOU BASTARD YOU RUINED HER PANTIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THAT FABRIC WAS? FUCK YOU.

Let's just hope that the fashion gossip blogs don't catch onto how uncharacteristically out of breath she was during that showcase!

I love piracy so much RAHHHHHH‼️‼️ if buying ain't ownin, piracy ain't stealin, but I wish it were. IMAGINE‼️ you download idk ratatouille and they just don't have it anymore. "Guys they took ratatouille again..." I wish. I wish watching media through torrent sites was like taking various items from ikea.

I WOULD download a car.

@bigfatbimbo cause of the little bonus of velvette

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel lute x reader #woah thats a lot of tags

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savannahsdeath · 1 year

Note

hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it

i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!

BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught

writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔

You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.

Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?

But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.

Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'

You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...

You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.

'She probably has a shitty personality.'

That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.

After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.

Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?

It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?

But what if he did? What if he found out?

Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.

But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.

More and more.

And she gave you more.

A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.

It was really your own fault.

This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.

You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.

Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"

The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.

You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.

Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.

"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.

You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.

"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."

She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.

She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.

"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.

You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.

"I'm back!" Your brother announced.

You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.

The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'

Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.

"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.

He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"

And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'

"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.

He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"

The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.

"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #reqs open #wlw smut #ellie the last of us #bbf!ellie #bbf!ellie williams #bbf!ellie x reader #bbf!ellie williams x reader #brother's best friend #thank you nonnie #i love you nonnie #send anons

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octopiys · 14 days

Text

Lost and Found

Prev | Next

You wake in a bed that is not your own. You start, pushing the covers off and practically falling off the bed and scramble towards the door. You pray you don't find it locked.

It swings open with ease, and you run face first into a very concerned Simon, who moves his cup of tea up and out of the way so it doesn't spill anywhere.

"Woah woah, there, what's got yer knickers in a twist?"

"You- I was- I don't know how-" You gesture vaguely back to the bedroom, that was not yours, heart pounding in your chest as you fail to explain what was going on.

Scraggle weaves into your legs, purring as it brushes up against you. Pay attention to it. Please.

"Honey, listen." He says rather bluntly, steeling you into your senses. "Ya fell asleep on the couch last night. Didn't want ya to have a bad back this mornin' so I moved you to my bed, it was closer. Didn't stay in there, tucked you in an' left. Not that kinda guy."

You swallow, looking down to pick up Scraggle, who seems very upset that you have not given it nearly enough attention. Simon's eyes follow your actions, before you look up at him, and meet deep brown irises.

"....what kind of guy are you, then?" You ask softly, toeing the water. You knew next to nothing about him. Other than his name, and he rescued you, like he rescued everything else in his house.

He lowers his tea, and slurps it loudly, accidentally-on-purpose, and you smile.

"Fed the dogs this morning. Breakfast is in the kitchen." He grunts, before turning away. You notice how he doesn't answer your question. You wonder if he doesn't know the answer.

Scraggle yowls. It wants food too. Give it food. Give it.

You make your way down the hall, trying to make sure that you look at least somewhat presentable.

The kitchen smelled nice. You took a little bit of everything, but not too much, still on the fence. You'd take what you can get, but not enough to leave a noticeable mark.

Simon's sitting at the table, typing something into his phone.

You didn't have one of those. Didn't have much use for one, either. If you needed to look something up, which, apparently, is something people do, you use the house computer.

It's the start of a sunny day, warm light bathing the kitchen through the windows above the sink. You sit down across from Simon as you eat quietly. Some bits you leave untouched. Not your favorites.

"Simon." You start softly. "Where did you sleep last night?"

"Couch." He grumbles, but not in a mean way.

"I thought you said-?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm used to it. Slept in worse places." His eyes crinkle like it was some inside joke you didn't understand. But you feel like you've already asked too many questions this morning. If he senses your hesitance, he doesn't pay it any mind.

You stand and leave to wash your dish.

Simon asks if you want to go to the market with him. He shows you your list. Tells you he won't leave your side. You can pick out the sauce, and the seasoning.

You're far enough away. Its been enough time. Its been a few weeks. You can go. You can go out for an hour. Nobody would notice. Nobody would see you.

You trust him, right?

"I have some stuff to do around here.... can we make it quick?"

"'Course. 'Course we can." Simon nods, and for a moment, you feel like he knows more than he lets on. But it slips, and you're back at square one.

You grab your work boots, a dark pair that Simon had gotten you two weeks ago. They've got some mud on them, but around here, it was impossible to find someone with perfectly clean everyday shoes.

It's almost twenty minutes into town. That's reassuring to you, distance enough away from folks you don't know, nor want to concern yourself with. It'll be something you could make a day out of, further down the line.

The car ride is quiet.

"....y'mind if we stop at the bookstore?" Simon grunts out as he pulls into a space outside of the supermarket. "Don't have to, but I was plannin' on..."

"That's fine." Simon clocks the way your eyes light up, and you try to play it off, and there's a fuzzy, warm feeling in his chest watching you. Instead of facing it, he gets out of the car, and opens your door.

You stick real close to his side as you walk into the store, practically calling yourself his shadow. He gets a cart. You pull out your little yellow-pad note of a grocers list. He glances down at it fir a moment, then back up to scan the aisle signs above you.

"Right then. This way."

Luckily, today there were no crowds in the market, and they had everything you needed. You were beginning to feel a little excited, like warmth in the tips of your fingers. You liked cooking, and you liked starting from scratch.

Must be a figurative and a literal thing, huh?

As you walk up to the check out, you push the cart. You pass the last aisle, and stop abruptly. Simon, not paying attention, runs directly into the cart, and then looks down at it like it personally offended him.

"Y'alright, honey?" He asks, his hand ghosting down near your waist, the curve of your back, a strong, secure point. His hand is warm.

You cock your head, and turn the cart down the last aisle.

Then you come back with a bag of marshmellos in the cart. Simon raises an eyebrow, but doesn't judge you for it.

"Wha'ssat for?" He asks, joining you at your side as you push the cart towards the check out, determined.

"I read on the computer that raccoons like marshmellos. We have treats for the cats and the dogs, but with Tres in the family now, I mean, he's just a little guy, and little guys gotta have treats too, sometimes, right?" You ask, looking up at him.

There's a fire in your doe eyes, like no matter if he agreed with you or not, you were taking those goddamn marshmellos to little baby Tres. He smirks, peering down at you, before squeezing the curve of your shoulder assuringly, before putting the bag of marshmellos up on the check out conveyor.

Yeah, the little guys gotta have a treat, too.

You've been a little less skittish, recently. Less Bambi-like, no longer wobbly kneed and hesitant– at least, not terrified to ask anymore. But it was little touches that got you out of it, small things, like the brush of a hand, or knocking his knee to yours, or wiping flour off your cheek.

Simon has his own story, and he knows you have yours. He doesn't expect you to question his, nor would he you, but he's seen the marks. He's seen the way you wince, like a few mornings ago, when you limped into the kitchen and brushed off his concern and braced the day without a complaint. Just grateful to have food in your belly, and a warm roof over your head. It ignites a fire in his chest, one that burns right through his heart and lungs, knowing that someone or something out there did this to you, and you wouldn't tell him who it was. Anger. He'd never been quite good with that. All in due time, he supposes.

He knows you've seen his scars, too. The trees are starting to grow over the house, and the way the branches grow are unstable. He's gotta cut some of them back. It's broiling out, so he shuns his shirt as he works on the roof, careful not to put his foot through a sensitive spot in the roof, or startle the raccoons, and he forgets, because he doesn't have to care when he's home.

You bring him lemonade when you see him come down. Your eyes linger on his bare skin, damp with sweat, and he feels... Like you see him for more than he appears, standing before you. Your eyes catch on each jagged mark, each curved line cut and carved deliberately into the patchwork of his skin. It's strangely sensual, how you both stand in the kitchen with your eyes on one another, simply cataloging the indents of people he once knew, and couldn't care enough to remember, because remembering replaces this. This soft moment, your eyes misted over, hip resting on the cabinet.

Maybe he overlooks the way that you seem to be looking at him for more than he is, and he sees you, too. Your eyes practically glow in the golden light of the afternoon, skin softer now with safety, a net he provided. The creature in his chest purrs at the sight of it, the softness of you in your entirety, knowing that it was his doing, a strange kind of possessiveness there that made him want to sink his teeth in, that would drown a man if kept unchecked.

But he's always been a good swimmer.

The worry in your face is still there, but no longer carved as deep. Your hands intricate, short nails nearly bitten off, lined with your own struggle, your own story, as your fingers grap around the cool glass of lemonade, and he doesn't think he's ever longed to be an inanimate object more. He blinks, scared for a split second that when he opens his eyes, this domesticity would be gone, a faux scenario in his fragmented, wretched mind, and yet, you're still there.

He found you. You haven't gone anywhere.

What's that they say? Finders keepers?

He doesn't plan on letting you go, any time soon. And he's not one to lose, either.

Your lips are soft, pursed as your eyes glance up to meet his, half lidded. Minx. You don't have any idea what you do to him.

You look like you're about to say something-

Scraggle yowls, headbutting Simon in the leg, and the moment breaks.

And you laugh, and he does too. He feels dizzy.

The bookstore is on the corner of the block. He loaded the bags into the car, refusing to let you even lift a finger.

You glared at him. He let you shut the trunk.

A small bell twinkled overhead as you walked into the dusty bookstore. There were a few plants that hung in the front window, the decorated neon sign buzzing.

There were a few tables, along with a coffee maker and a pastry case, one of those glass ones like you see in a bakery. Anywhere you look has at least one plant, and a stack of books. There were quite a few shelves, and you couldn't quite tell what was what. There was a staircase in the back, winding up to a second floor, where there were more shelves, but a sign near the top read 'Music', so you assumed that it would be CDs or something. It was pretty overwhelming, as your eyes adjusted to the soft lighting and the smell of lavender and... something you couldn't quite place a name to.

He watches your eyes dart around, shoulders tense, before you blink slowly, and take a deep breath, before pushing forward.

Pride causes him to smirk, as a woman appears from behind the counter.

She doesn't say anything at first, watching you scan the shelves, and quickly make your way over to the little fantasy section she has. She glances over at Simon, who approaches her but doesn't take his eyes off of you.

"Who's the new thing?" The woman asks, careful to keep her voice low.

Simon huffs, the question rolling off him. "Where's the Scot, Peach?"

"He's-"

"Hey, LT!" Exclaims a very loud man from the top of the staircase. He makes his way down the steps, before clapping Simon on the shoulder.

Your curiousity piques, as you look over a shorter shelf to watch Simon and this mystery fellow interact, hidden away in this little alcove of book stacks. Your hands find purchase flipping through the yellowed pages of an old book, one you remember from a long, long time ago.

They share a few words, nothing you can make out, really, before all three turn and look at you.

You duck, not wanting to be caught dropping any eaves.

"Been through the wringer that one has, havin' ended up wit' ye." Johnny comments, crossing his arms over his chest as you duck.

"Fuck off, Soap." He grumbles, starting to regret this idea. "You want pasta or not?"

"We-" A manicured hand slides over Johnny's mouth, his partner electing to ensure he doesn't screw up dinner plans.

"We'll be there if it's all good with the missus." She says smoothly, recovering as she glances over towards you.

Simon hums, and she sees he still hasn't taken his eyes off you. "Something going on with you, Riley?"

Simon hums again, not fully paying attention.

"Oi, earth to Ghost!" Johnny snaps, before realization dawns on him. "Oh- oh, yer down bad, aren't-"

"MacTavish, if you say another word, I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

".....note taken."

"How's Lord Scraggle doing?" Always good for a save, that Peach.

Of course, Peach wasn't her real name. But it's what Soap called her. It's what everyone knew her as. But, like everyone else, they had their own reasonings. And Ghost... Well, he respects her enough not to ever get in her way. Ever.

Simon buys you the old copy of the Hobbit you'd been clutching. You're shyly introduced to his friend Soap, and Peach. You introduce yourself too, and Peach repeats you to make sure she gets it right. In a bold move, you look to Simon and invite them to dinner. He shrugs, and looks to them. Peach tells you yes, and Soap looks like he's been kicked before he agrees, too. He looks familiar. You're not sure from where.

You talk about your book on the way home. Simon listens to every single bit of it, even if it might seem to you that he isn't. He doesn't tell you that he's read all the books too. If he could forget that he has, just to listen to you tell it to him as if it's his first time, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

The raccoons are under your- Simon's porch when you both get home. You squeak in excitement, rummaging through one of the bags on Simon's arms before sitting down in front of the porch, with your hand outstretched, a small marshmello sitting at the tips of your fingers.

Then, the smallest little grabby hand reaches up through the slats in the boards and takes the marshmello, tugging it down through the porch. You think you could cry.

Simon huffs a laugh and pulls you back to your feet as you both go inside.

And Scraggle dubs you to be a traitor, feeding other things than the cat. After all, is Scraggle not the most important thing in your life? Seriously, this cat is starved for attention every day, what a horrible, horrible house, death to mother and father, death for- oh, bowls are full again! Okay, maybe Scraggle can forgive you. It's already forgotten what it's upset about.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #modern warfare 2 #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

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luv4fandoms · 8 months

Text

Knight in shining armor (Marko x Fem!Reader)

I found the first part of this in my notes and decided to finally finish it lol.

Pairing: Marko x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2,776

Warnings: PURE SMUT!!! MINORS DNI

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Ko-Fi

"Hurry up already" Marko huffed, arms outstretched along the back of the couch as he stared down at you, his legs spread with you in between them, hands gliding up his jean and leather covered thighs while you pressed kisses to his clothed bulge.

"Now why would I do that? You love to tease me" you told him as you grabbed him through his pants, earning a hiss from the blonde.

"Keep it up and you won't be able to walk by the end of the night" he warned, which only brought a smirk to your lips.

"Is that a threat of a promise?" You asked, keeping eye contact as you licked over the bulge, earning a deep growl from him.

"Babe" he dragged out through clenched teeth.

"You're no fun" you giggled, reaching up to unbutton and unzip his pants, his eyes never leaving you while you gently pulled down his pants enough to release him. Marko rarely wore underwear, and sometimes you wondered if they all decided to forgo the article of clothing, or if he just hated them, either way, it always made this sort of thing easier.

Giving him an experimental stroke you heard him hiss again, eyes closing as you ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that beaded out. Leaning forward to lick over the slit while you ran your hand down to his base he groaned at the contact, pleasure beginning to wash over his tense form. This was what you were hoping for, to get him to finally relax after last night.

It started out as a typical night at the boardwalk, the boys had gone off to hunt and you had decided to simply walk around until they returned, something you had done plenty of times. Each time Marko would tell you to be safe, and if you needed anything to run towards the beach and he would come find you. You had been minding your own business, eating an ice cream as you walked around and enjoyed the music and current festival that was happening, but of course, that came to an end when the surf Nazis showed up. You were used to them by now, having encountered them plenty of times with the boys, but they seemed to have sought you out like sharks with blood when they saw that you were alone.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” You heard the one speak, and you didn't even have to turn from the vendor stall to see the smirk on his lips, his tone making your skin crawl.

“Piss off” you stated, going back to looking at the patches, trying to find ones that Marko would like.

“Well that's not very nice, your little boyfriends didn't teach you any manners?” Another one asked, you simply rolled your eyes and paid for the few patches you found, shoving them in your bag before beginning to walk away, you hadn't gotten three steps when a hand grabbed your arm.

“Now come on, we just wanna talk” you finally turned towards the, what you now realized, were three men, and gave them your best death glare before snatching your arm out of his grip.

“Well I don't, so piss.off” you replied, turning and walking away. You thought maybe they had gotten the hint since they didn't grab you again…but of course, you were wrong, you could hear the insults they were throwing even from as far back as they were, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you realized they were pushing past people to get to you. Quickening your speed you began to weave in and out of the crowd hoping that you wouldn't have to take off towards the beach and interrupt Marko's hunt…Though they would just make meals out of the three clowns chasing you. You turned a corner and quickly ran into something rather immobile, or rather, someone. Looking up from where you now sat on the ground you realized it was a man, around your age, medium length black hair and the most friendly eyes, from the look of his clothes he wasn't from Santa Carla, just another tourist who you had sadly been brought into your mess as you heard the voices grow louder.

“Are you ok? Didn't mean to run into you” he smiled, offering you his hand that you gladly took.

“Yeah, sorry I was-” you were cut off as the three you had been running from rounded the corner, coming to a halt upon seeing you.

“There you are you little bitch” the one sneered.

“Friends?” The guy asked as he pulled you closer.

“Ha, they wish”

“You don't need to be involved, just hand over the little whore and we'll be good” the second one stated, but the guy gently pushed you behind him.

“I think I'll pass on doing that, sorry” he told them, which only angered them more.

“You wanna fuckin die dude? Just run along and let us have her, we ain't got any beef with you” the third one snapped. The guy looked back at you, your eyes meeting for a moment before he turned back to them.

“Or you all could fuck off” he shrugged, and that seemed to be the final straw as the guys jumped at him, he quickly pushed you aside, causing you to slightly catch yourself on the wall, the brick scraping your arm and causing a small amount of blood to bead up. You watched with wide eyes as the man easily beat up all three guys with moves you had only seen in martial art movies, it honestly made you stare in awe at the man, who was now staring down at three groaning surf Nazis.

“Are you ok?” He asked, meeting your eyes before seeing the small amount of blood on your arm.

“Shit I'm sorry” he apologized, quickly grabbing a tissue out of his pocket and going to press it to your wound, when a hand grabbed his wrist…A gloved hand you knew all too well.

“Touch her and die” Marko all but growled as he stared the man down, you knew even though the man was taller than him, Marko was far more deadly.

“I'm sorry?” The man questioned.

“Marko baby, it's ok, he helped me” you tried to reassure your boyfriend, who immediately looked down at your arm.

“Yeah, looks like it”

“It was an accident, he pushed me out of the way” Marko's eyes left the man and looked down at the three groaning men.

“Why didn't you come get me?”

“I didn't want to be a burden” the look he gave you after that sentence was both of annoyance, and hurt.

“It's ok though, I'm fine” you tried to reassure him, putting your hand on his which still held the man's wrist, you felt his grip slowly loosen enough for the man's wrist to fall.

“Thanks to your knight in shining armor” he muttered, but you caught it, caught the tone, the hurt that lingered on his words.

He has been in that mood since then, but you'd be damned if you let him stay in it for another night. He was your boyfriend, your mate, the only one you wanted…And you were going to make that known. So you had coerced him onto the couch with kisses, and were determined to right a wrong in his mind.

“Fuck” he sighed, one hand reaching down to thread through your hair, the other now gripping the back of the couch. Your hands pulled his pants lower, allowing him to spread his legs wider as you took more of him in, a low, almost purr sounding in the back of his throat as his hips lifted slightly.

“all of it” he groaned, and you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes meeting his, noticing his pupils were already blown wide.

“Take all of it” he panted, other hand reaching down to grip your hair, guiding your head down further, you had only done this a handful of times, but you knew how much he liked it, so with a deep breath you relaxed your throat, allowing him deeper.

“That's it” he sighed, head falling forward to watch you.

“Good girl” he groaned, letting you just sit there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your hot throat flexing around him before he slowly pulled you back up, allowing you to take a breath before he guided you back down. After the fifth time you gently grabbed his hands and put them on the couch, letting him fall out of your mouth before grabbing him and stroking.

“thought this was supposed to be about me” he tried to joke but it ended in a hiss and you leaned down and sucked for a moment.

“It is” you replied once you let him go, mouth leaving him but hand never stopping.

“But I have to breathe,” you joked. Watching has his eyes slowly opened, looking down at you with an unreadable gaze for a moment before he spoke.

“Bet you'd choke for your knight in shining armor” he muttered, and there it was, what was still putting him in a bad mood-when you had been in danger, he wasn't the one who saved you. You rolled your eyes and lowered your head, his own falling back on the couch as he figured you were going to take him back into your mouth, what he wasn't expecting was feeling your teeth sinking into his thigh. A started shout/groan fell from his lips as his hand shot back into your hand, unsure if he wanted to pull you off or beg you to do it again.

“Cazzo! (Fuck!)” He quickly looked down, eyes meeting yours as you licked over the wound, watching as his cock twitched near your cheek.

“Wanna say something stupid like that again?” you asked, kissing up the side of his cock before taking him in again, bobbing your head as you listened to him try to form words, you had never bit him before, but from the looks of it, you'd have to start.

“I s-said” he groaned, hating that he stuttered, but fuck! You had never done something like that before, and now you were going at him, your head bobbing quickly, you hands rubbing what you weren't taking in…Fuck why was he upset again?

“Divieto di sosta (do not stop)” he groaned, body leaning forward, both of his hands resting on your head now, not trying to move you but trying to anchor himself. You grabbed the top of his jeans which rested at his knees and pulled them down to his ankles, before letting him fall out of your mouth and kissing along his thighs, he groaned at the loss but waited to see what you would do. You started at his knee, slowly kissing upwards as you spoke.

“if you ever, for a moment” you started, only stopping to bite into his flesh again, earning another groan, his hand tightening in your hair while you moved over to his other leg, kissing upwards.

“think that I would want someone else” you bit down again.

“Cazzo! Dio sì (Fuck! God yes)”

“Then you” you bit near his hip bone, watching as his hips shot up, chasing the feeling.

“Are very much” you bit near his other hip bone, listening as his groans became murmurs of Italian.

“An idiot” you ended, leaving the last bite on his stomach, a place you knew was sensitive, and a place where everyone would be able to see it, and maybe that was what set him off, the thought of you marking him, or maybe he had just had it, but quickly you were eye level with him-his hand gripping the back of your head, fist tangled in your hair.

“cazzo ingoiami, o ti spezzerò (fucking swallow me, or I will break you)” he growled, eyes gaining a bit of a goldish hue as he looked at you, his body lightly shaking as he gripped the couch with his other hand.

“promessa o minaccia?(promise or threat?)” You asked, watching as his eyes widened for a moment, you had never spoken Italian before, never had told him you were even learning it since you wanted to surprise him, you quickly leaned in a stole a kiss while he was in his shocked state before falling back to your knees, you mouth swallowing him down before he could say anything else, though what did tumble out of his mouth was nothing but sighed and groaned Italian as he leaned back again and let you work, you could tell he was starting to get close though when his hips began to buck upwards more often, and his hand tightened in your hair again.

“Più veloce (faster)” he panted, eyes opening to look down at you, you doubled your efforts, tongue running along the underside before you flicked it over the slit which now steadily leaked precum.

“proprio così (just like that)” he groaned, struggling to keep his eyes on you as you worked, he watched your hand leave him, instead reaching down and cupping his balls, he groaned at the feeling, his end coming closer at your touch.

“brava ragazza-cazzo, così buono (good girl-fuck, so good)” he moaned, his body beginning to lean forward, wanting to get closer to your touch.

“Divieto di sosta (do not stop)”he panted again, feeling himself rushing towards his peak, all he would need would be a little more, a little more of your hot mouth swallowing him down, your hands cupping him, stroking him. The sounds of you slurping the mixture of his cum and your own saliva that ran down his length as you worked, it was all music to his ears and he could feel himself starting to tense, his boots digging into the stone floor of the cave…When your nails scratched down his legs, digging into them he lost it.

“CAZZO!” He all but screamed, eyes rolling back as both of his fists locked into your hair, holding your head down as he came. Luckily you had done this before and knew what to expect, Marko always liked to make sure you got every last drop, but from how he was slightly shaking and the look on his face, eyes rolled back and mouth opened in a silent moan, you think this may be because of a new reason.

His hips lifted off of the couch in shallow thrusts, soft gunts and whispered “cazzo”s fell from his lips as his body slowly came down from its high. You felt his grip loosen before his hands left your hair, falling beside him on the couch. You quickly pulled off of him, swallowing what you could and wiping off the rest before you gently straddled his lap, being careful of him in case he was a bit sensitive, though knowing Marko he would probably enjoy it. You gently kissed his neck, cheeks, before landing on his lips, smiling when you felt him kiss back, hands coming up to lightly hold your waist. When you broke apart your eyes once again met hazel, and you smiled at your boyfriend.

“ti amo (I love you)” you whispered, watching as the smile spread across his own lips.

“Anch'io ti amo. per l'eternità (I love you too. For eternity)” he whispered, hand coming up to cup your cheek and pull you back in for another kiss, a kiss that turned into a slow make out session. When the two of you finally broke apart you cupped his cheeks in your hands and looked at him.

“Now, no more foolishness ok? You're my knight in shining armor, no one else, got it” you told him, watching as he looked away for a moment before looking back at you and nodding.

“Fine, but the next guy that tries to play that role…I'm killing” he told you, shutting you up with a kiss before you could protest.

“Now, in the meantime” he started, grabbing your thighs and standing up, causing you to let out a shout and wrap your legs around his waist. He quickly toed off his boots and kicked off his pants before he headed towards your shared nest.

“You started something you need to finish” he explained, and when you gave him a confused look he simply smirked.

“You marked me, it's only fair I return the favor, and besides, I need to show you how I truly speak my mother tongue,” he replied, tossing you onto the mattress…you were in for a long night.

There it is! I hope everyone enjoys it lol.

Also the guy who helps her I pictured looking like

#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #marko x fem reader #marko x Reader #marko x reader #marko smut #marko tlb smut

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seat-safety-switch · 24 days

Text

When industry has let you down, you gotta get weird. Do you remember the last time that one of your beloved childhood candies got discontinued by the manufacturer? Someone in a regular ol' residential kitchen, much like yours, decided to just make their own version of that candy. If those corporate motherfuckers won't give it to me, they said, I'll take it. They're eating it right now, while you sob into your Wheaties about how terribly capitalism has treated you.

Me, I love to do this kind of thing too. Spite is my fuel. Sure, it's nice to have the goodies of the past again. What really gets my motor running, though, is the opportunity to really piss off the folks trying to scalp what's left.

Yeah, we got the last eighteen boxes of this kind of connector you need, and we want seven hundred bucks for each of them. Guess what, asshole? I can trick the library into 3D-printing a bunch of them, and then trick AliExpress into making exact copies of them. Now the market price is seven cents, and none of those pennies are going to your dumb market-cornering ass. Sorry. It's capitalism.

Like any good thing, though, I may have taken it too far. The other day, the dealership wanted four dollars for a replacement clip for my sunroof. Instead of paying them that blood money, I spent hours of my own, precious time on this earth cloning it. Now, after all this effort, I can make them myself for about three dollars and ninety-six cents. Unless you price in all the failed prototypes, which nobody does. Also, they don't work as well as the real thing, so I have to make a lot so I have spares. Sometimes being a warrior against the forces of entropy means having to make a sacrifice.

If you're also into this weird hobby, let me know. I've been looking to get a new house, and I don't like the idea of paying people who know what they're doing for it. We can probably make some kind of enormous 3D printer and just crank out an entire bungalow out of microplastics. Call me.

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mingi-s-dimples · 2 months

Text

splash of desire - wooyoung

pairing: enemy & teammate!wooyoung x fem!reader

rating: 18+ (filth)

genre: enemies to lovers, filthy smut (mdni ty)

summary: your captain makes you share a room with your death enemy, who also happens to be your teammate.

WC: 3.1k

warnings: non idol au, dystopian (strictland), brat dom!wooyoung x even brattier!reader, cocky!wooyoung, cursing, cussing out, threats (once or twice, death threat once and knife once), size kink, shower sex, overstim, orgasm control, ruined orgasm (twice f), oral (m), foreplay (f & m), blowjob, choking (both by dick and by hand), handjob, hair pulling, pet names ( ), making out, deepthroating, slight dacryphilia, one scene with pleading/begging, completely consensual, unprotected (booo use protection irl!!!), death enemies to lovers, completely unedited & might edit later, totally forgot to mention something.

Author's Note: Enemies to lovers... shower sex AND Wooyoung? give me 14 thank you. I wrote this in ONE DAY... like 4 hours or something? I think it took me longer to actually re edit/write the entire fic rather than initially writing it 😭. My utmost fave part was when Wooyoung said he wouldn't back off if he kissed her !?!??! I'm afraid I'm in love with how I wrote this fic keisjs (I always say this). Anyways, enjoy my fic ! 🫶🏻 (also I'm on the rollll I'm still on vacation LMAO I got really bored.. and horny so, once again, enjoyyy) - wrote this together w my bestie, she chose a plot - i only had the smut in mind upsi - tysm Lis for helping me ajisebs love youuu .

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

You were apart of ATEEZ, a well known group of outlaws, rebelled against the Strictland Government. They were some.. entities, which distrupted the initial normal world with all of their activities. Hongjoong, your captain, suddenly decided to part the whole team on small groups, of 2 people, because the latest mission almost failed tragically. He thought that it happened because we were too many in the same place. In the end, he chose Wooyoung to team up with you and.. neither of you were happy about it. In fact, you started bickering with both Hongjoong and Wooyoung, because for some reason Hj thought that you's be better off on a mission with Woo. Little did he know that you'd actually kill him even before the mission started if you had the chance.

You looked at Hj in disbelief.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I AM ON MISSION WITH WOOYOUNG?"

You let out a heavy sigh, giving a piercing stare to Wooyoung.

"WHY HIM, OUT OF ALL PEOPLE? Captain. Please... please... put me on another team.." you said pleading, almost begging Hongjoong, but to no avail.

"Nope, end of discussion. You are going to do as I said. You both have one hour to prepare and pack things. I already made a reservation for a hotel hot too far from here. We gotta stay united but not in the same place, it's too risky."

"Guess we'll need to tolerate each other, y/n. I won't try to kill you, I promise." Wooyoung said, giving you the death stare with a smirk.

Hongjoong left the room, giving you a stare. He tried so hard not to burst out laughing, knowing you were pissed at him for pairing you with Wooyoung.

And here you were, in your own, nice and little room... but private. In 2 hours you were gonna live with your death enemy, which happened to also be your teammate, in the same hotel room. Ironic, isn't it? How much you hated him, his face, his cocky and bratty attitude. Everything about him made you curse at him on a daily basis. But now, you were gonna be closer to him than ever. You didn't even know what to say about it... you were just.. in disbelief.

*2 hours later*

"Oookay guys. Here is your room, you only have one bed tho, we can't afford a bigger room for now. Please don't fight, don't try to kill each other and please, for fucks sake, don't bomb the place. Enjoy your time" Hongjoong said, letting out a small chuckle.

He knew sth you didn't know.

"Okay. Dissappear, please. I don't want to see you this early in the morning." you said to Wooyoung, staring him down. You took a cigarette out of your pocket and lit it, going om the balcony to ease your mood.

"We both know you love me, y/n, don't act like this" He said teasingly, approaching you slowly.

"Fuck you, don't piss me off. Go away! " you said, pushing him away.

"Fine. I'll be in the room if you need me" he whispered.

"Fuck off you bitch" you whisperer, not letting him hear you.

You took your phone out of the pocket and dialed Hongjoong.

"Joong please! I can't live with this brat! We've been in the same room for 3 minutes and we already started bickering! Please change the layout... " you pleaded.

But you didn't hear anything. Instead, he hung up in you, giving you the final answer.

"Oh cmon, you fucker" you said to yourself.

*several minutes later*

You decided to go back in the room after smoking quite a few cigarettes. After all, you were trying to distract yourself from the situation.

But it didn't last long.

"Huh? where the fuck did he go?"

"Well, better for me, I won't see his face for a while. Maybe he's planning to kill me? I wouldn't be surprised"

You later decided to go take a shower to ease your muscles after the mission you had 2 days ago, but to your surprise and horror.. you met Wooyoung's gaze in the hall, right besides the bathroom's door. He was halfway naked, t-shirt on the floor and only in his briefs. You were trying to look away but.. froze. You stared him from head to toe, stopping at his collarbones, then at his waist... his underwear. He was.. packing.

"For fucks sake, Wooyoung! What are you doing?" you finally said, after eye fucking him for a long minute.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Chill, I wanted to take a shower. Unless you wanna join me?" he said laughing, but seeing your flustered face made his gaze darken.

"Oh.. maybe you want to join me after all, judging from your stare, hm?" he said, approaching you.

"Fuck off! Don't you touch me, what the fuck!" you said and slapped him, looking horrified in his eyes at what you just did. You always bickered and fought with him but never in your right mind thought about hitting him.

"Ouu, feisty." he said and slammed your wrists to the wall, right above you.

"The fuck are you doing?!" you said trying to escape his grip but to no avail. He was strong.. and besides being strong you made him mad.

"Oh kitten, I've seen your gaze. You've been eye fucking me for a while, is that right?" he whispered right into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

*click*

He closed the door with his left hand. You had nowhere to go. But... did you want to leave?

"Wooyoung it's not funny, I hate everything about you."

He tilts his head at your words.

"Come again, darling? I didn't quite hear you."

"You're fucking annoying, don't get on my nerves" you said, squirming and trying to get away from his grip. But with every word and every sentence he was saying, your force dissipated and you were starting to give in... maybe you wanted him after all?

You had a window of freedom and took something out of your pocket.

"Ouuu, a knife? Are you trying to perhaps flirt with me?" he said smiling, tightening his grip on your wrists.

"Drop it. I can't guarantee your safety with that shit around me, y/n." he said and took it from your hands.

"Shut the fuck up"

"Make me, love"

You gulped. You never thought that your... death enemy would turn you on but.. here you are, arousal pooling in your panties and trying to keep your composure and not jump on him in that instant. He was staring you down, you could feel how his eyes were eating you right there. He closed the gap between your bodies, you could feel his briefs getting thighter against your thighs.

"Wooyoung.. ? The fuck are you doing?" You said flustered, looking at the bulge forming in front of you.

"Perhaps I want to fuck you or... leave you hanging? Either way... it's so much fun seeing you this flustered... you've never been like this. It makes me go insane" he said, leaning in, hovering his lips over your collarbones.

You didn't try to run away now. You almost fully gave in but... there was still something holding you back. Was he always like this? Was he.. always into you.. like this? All these thoughts were driving you insane as you felt your cunt wetting your jeans. Did you want to give in? Did you want to leave? Your body was telling you something.. while your mind was telling you otherwise. But... you wanted to give in. Truth is... you've always wanted to fuck him. To fuck the cockiness and brattiness out of him. To see him flustered, to find out why he's always been bratty with you and only you.

Though.. he continued before letting you say something.

"You know... the problem is.."

He said as he leaned in, staring at your lips with hunger and thirst.

"If I touch you... or kiss you... I don't think I'll be able to back off."

He said... waiting for the slightest response from you.

"Wooyoung -" you mustered your courage to say, touching his lip with your thumb after he loosened the grip on your hands.

He took that as a yes.

Wooyoung leaned in for a kiss, one of his hands holding your wrists above and the other one on your waist, all touchy.

"To be honest with you, y/n"

He stopped for a moment.

"I've always wanted to do this"

He said as he leaned in for a deeper, sloppier kiss. His hand going down to your ass, trying to feel you up in every way possible.

"I hate you, Wooyoung."

"No. babe. You hate the fact that you actually want me" he said, planting a kiss on your neck.

And that was it.. you were making out with your death enemy. Tongues interlocking, lewd sounds being heard in the whole room. His hands going down to your pants and your hands on his shoulders, he took you in his hands and put you on the washing machine in the bathroom. In the meantime, you could feel his hands all touchy around your waist. He was not that shitty, after all. He was waiting for you to fully give in before making any move that would make you uncomfortable. But as he said... you'd been eye fucking him for a while now.

You unzipped your pants and he took them off. His hands going back to your ass, now tugging at your panties. As soon as he touched your thigh, really close to your cunt, you flinched.

He stopped.

"Hm? why did you stop"

"You flinched. All good w me all over you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good girl" he said. smiling.

"Fuck you, Wooyoung"

"Oh yes, please." he said and went in for a wild sloppy kiss, biting your lower lip while he took of your panties and bra. You were already bare in fron of him while he still had his briefs on... which you took care of in a second. You first started touching his tip through the cloth, feeling how hard it has gotten these past few moments. He didn't lie, after all. He really wanted to fuck you... judging from all the pre cum leaking through. You tugged at them and took them off only halfway before his cock sprung up out of the enclosed briefs.

You gulped.

"Hm? did you say something, love?"

"Are you... perhaps.. surprised?" he said, chuckling at the view he had. Your hand was resting on his dick, which was halfway out of his underwear. He was right... you were fucking surprised at how big he was.

"N-no" you said flustered. He could see the look on your face. You wanted to fuck him right there.

He left you sitting on the washing machine.

"Where the fuck are you going? Don't piss me off, you started this" you said, staring at him.

"Wait a moment, I'm just gonna do something" and as he finished talking, he turned on the shower.

"Oh, my fucking god." You gasped.

"Wooyoung.." you said but couldn't finish your sentence as he took you in his grip and dropped you off in the shower, the water dripping off your collarbones.

"Didn't you want to take a shower, woman? The fuck you looking at" he said before one of his hands went straight to your neck, receiving a choked whimper from you.

"Ooh, you're a cocky one, hm?" he said as you stopped showing him how much you wanted him.

"You're one to talk, Wooyoung" you said and right after you finished your sentence he pushed you on the wall, your breasts against the wall and your back arched for the man behind you.

"Stay still, babe." he said as he slapped your ass, holding onto it for dear life. He was resting his dick on your folds, rubbing against them for a moment.

"Fucking god.. y/n. I hate how good you feel"

He said as he pushed only his tip in.

"It makes me want to destroy the fuck out of you"

He said as he pushed himself fully into your cunt, receiving a loud moan from you.

"Wooyoung ! " you shouted, trying to hold onto something. He had other plans. He took your hair into a fist and with his other hand he held onto you, bottoming out with every single one of his thrusts. It hurt but oh god... you never thought he'd fuck this good. You were holding on for dear life, the wall slippery from the water running on you and your knees weak.

"I'm not even - oh"

"Sweating yet, babe." You said, stopping in the middle because of one of his thrusts.

"Is that really all you - g-got?" you muffled.

"Hm? You want more, huh? What a needy cunt you have." he said, burying his face into the nape of your neck, still holding on your hair, pulling it back. "Isn't this good to you, darling? Hm?" he said as he slowed down his thrusts, but going deeper as ever.

"Oh - my god" you whimpered, arousal dripping from your folds, as he pulled out for a moment.

"The fuck are you doing" you said annoyed, cause he stopped you from catching your high.

"You said you didn't even sweat so I stopped. I thought you meant I'm not good enough to you"

"You're a damn nuisance, Wooyoung. I can see your dick throbbing. Did you really want to stop?" you said, smiling at the view.

"Not your damn business. Quite a mouth you have, it seems like you need someone to put you in your place" he said as he manhandled you. He turned you around and pushed you on your knees, his cock on your cheek, rubbing on it while his hand was holding your hair.

"Got something to say, y/n? Are you finally.. quiet?" he said, looking down at you.

"Never, you fucker"

"Ohh, bratty. I love it" He said as he pushed his dick in your mouth, feeling it right in the back of your throat, tears swelling in your eyes. His dick was girthy... you could feel how it stretched your mouth so well. This brat also didn't let you adjust to his size. Having no room to breath, you were choking on his tip, but little did he care. He loved seeing you helpess, fucked dumb and being sucked by you.

When he pulled out for a short second you coughed, gasping for air.

"You're.. cute" he said chuckling, stroking your head while you had his dick on your lips.

"You bet" you said and you softly bit his tip, receiving a moan from him.

"Fuck you, y/n. This is how we are, hm? Fuck that hurt" he said, looking down at you, plotting something.

He kneeled and pushed you around. He wanted you to sit on all fours.

"Ass up, babe. On all fours. Turn around, on a side. Now." he said and even before having time to move, he manhandled you how he wanted. You were now sideways on your knees and hands.

"Suck."

And you obeyed. But little did you know he had completely other plans that you were bound to find out as soon as you felt the free hand, the one that wasn't holding your hair, on your spine right down to your ass. He used two of his fingers to spread out your wet, dripping folds. One of it rubbing on your clit, the other one slowly finding it's way in your cunt. He curled his finger inside you, making you arch your back and stop sucking him off. You gasped at the sensation.

"Damn, I never thought you'd be this hot sucking me off like the little whore you are. Wanna cum, hm? I can see it on your face. All flustered up and weak for me" he said, pushing two fingers inside you.

He was right, you were so close to finishing, barely standing on your knees. Your hands were slipping, trying to hold yourself up on his thighs.

"Stop" he said.

"W-what why" you said angrily, looking at him and gasping when he pulled out his fingers, your cunt clenching on nothing.

"You fucker, it's the 2nd time you've fucked with my orgasm. What's your problem, want me to kill you?" you shouted, weak in your knees as soon as he put his hand on your neck.

"Hmm.. maybe I love seeing you so desperate for me. For my dick, for my fingers. But... did you just say you'd.. kill me? Is that right, babe?" he said as he choked you, staring you up and down.

"We'll see about that. Get up and face me. Now." he said, waiting for you to obey.

He then lifted you up right on his dick, placing your hands on his shoulders. One of his hand was holding you from below and with one he was leaning against the wall, not letting your head hit the hard tile in the shower.

"Wooyoungh-h, I gotta-" you muffled.

"Use your words, pretty. I didn't quite understand"

"I gotta, mhhm, c-cum"

"Like, now" you said and let out a muffled moan, trying to look back at Wooyoung.

"Nu-uh babe, I didn't yet."

He stopped for only a second.

"Let's make a deal. Cum at the same time as me. Won't be that hard, right? I can see on your face that you're out of it. Now... cum." he said and started wildly thrusting into you, with so much speed and deepness, with the hand he was leaning against the wall on your clit, rubbing circles on it while closing the distance between you two.

It was like... what? the 3rd time you we're close to it and he was playing with you. But he wasn't a brat until the end and you both came, still thrusting into you so you could take up his load right up your cunt.

As both of you were coming down from your highs, he leaned down to put you down in the tiles and sat besides you.

"Y/n... I never thought this would happen but.. oh my god. You felt so good..." he said while giving you soft kisses on your forehead. He hovered the shower over you, washing you up. You've never seen that side of him. The nice, loving one.. but you loved it.

"Wooyoung.. when I tell you I GULPED when I saw you in the hallway. I was going insane !"

"Then.. up for a round 2?" he said laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, it's late and we need to wake up early as fuck!" you said, scoffing.

"Fine, fine. I'll pass on it tonight. But... what about tomorrow night? We could try the bed, too. It looks pretty sturdy." he said smirking.

"Wooyoung, for fucks sake! SHUT UP!" you said running out of the bathroom, your cheeks flushed from what he just said.

"Dammit, this fucker"

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #smut fic #ateez fic #ateez #ateez smut #ateez x y/n #fanfic #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #smut #smutty smut smut #smutty fanfiction #smut tag #smutty thoughts #cnc brat #bd/sm brat #daddy’s brat

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honeytonedhottie · 9 months

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how to isolate and grow⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💶

quick disclaimer : when i say "isolate" i dont mean the negative connotation of self isolation where you push everyone away, i mean the laying back and rly focusing and tapping into urself BY yourself.

accessibility : limit people's accessibility to you, or narrow down how many people you allow to access you. ur energy is SACRED ur time is a privilege. its important that ur no longer looking for outlets in people.

during this time of stepping back and being super picky with how and who u spend ur time with its the perfect opportunity to separate urself from the toxicity that some people in ur life might bring. in that same breath, its easier said for friends then it is for family members because when u think isolation ur probably thinking of being a home-body which is a part of it. but if ur home is whats making u sick then try and spend time AWAY of the home to do whatever u need to do.

self awareness and responsibility : take a moment and be truly objective with urself. practice having the difficult conversations with urself. u know ur goals, but are u the person that can have those goals? and if not, how can u get to become that person.

this is also the time to address things that you've been sweeping under the rug. address anything thats starting to become a problem and address bigger problems in ur life. we wanna be able to take responsibility for ourselves and PROBLEM SOLVE. be super clear on what u wanna focus on during ur self isolation period and WHY you are choosing to do this.

find a mentor : find someone who resonates with you, whether it be online or in person, who is living the life that YOU wanna live or living a life similar to one that u wanna live. u dont have to have just one mentor, it can be multiple mentors for different aspects of ur life that u wanna improve. ur mentors dont even need to know you honestly, just someone u look up to

detox ur brain : mental diet. mindset is EVERYTHING as you know if you've been consuming my content lately. everything and i mean EVERYTHING begins in the brain. the thoughts that u think today will be what u experience tomorrow. speak to urself nicely, throw away old thoughts that dont align with ur dreams and replace them with positive ones thru repetition, fixed attention and practice

do brain dumps before u go to bed, its good to get out all of the thoughts in ur head before u go to sleep, out of ur brain and onto a piece of paper or something else in general. it doesn't have to be in a negative connotation either, write down ideas that pass thru ur head, goals, inspirations etc.

clean out : anything that u tend to cling to, whether its devices, drugs, drinking etc. practice fasting from it. it doesn't have to be extreme, just taking a break from it REGULARLY will improve it so much. an analogy i like to use for gradual change like this is with a rubber band. if u stretch the rubber band as far as it can go too quickly then it'll break, however if u gradually stretch the rubber band little by little, you can stretch it super far and it won't break.

experimentation : while ur self isolating this is the perfect opportunity to experiment with ur physical. dye ur hair a color that you've always been wanting it to. grow ur hair a couple inches, take extra good care of ur skin, experiment with different clothing styles. become ur own MUSE.

with that being said i wish everyone luck and blessings as you isolate and grow 🫶🏽

#self concept #advice #it girl #becoming that girl #self care #self love #that girl #it girl energy #dream girl #dream life #dream girl tips #girl blogger #hyperfemininity #self development #self improvement #self growth #self reflection #honeytonedhottie

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ollyissleppy · 2 months

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a/n: had this on my mind for a bit too long and I went from a one-time thing to full ass work, will post the masterlist tomorrow probably (the taglist is open!) tags: he fell first she fell harder, kenma is a bit of a loser, starving artist x (semi) rich guy trope, gender neutral reader!!!, reader is called 'dude', no usage of y/n cw: alcohol, swearing

← prev. | m.list | next →

Kenma looks down at his almost empty glass. His head feels fuzzy due to all the alcohol that's currently in his system. He tries his best to stay quiet and prays his viewers or friends don't notice his lack of commentary. Kenma knows to play it safe when it comes to his drinking due to his secret-spilling tendencies. He tries to protect himself from the embarrassment on top of the headache he will feel tomorrow. He turns his attention to Bokuto, who's currently talking about how much he misses his dear boyfriend as he's finishing his drink. Bokuto shoves his glass right in front of Kenma's face so Kuroo, who's sat on streamers other side, can refill his drink. Kuroo then proceeds to do the same for Kenma, leaning closer to one of the monitors to read what the chat is saying. Even though he was trying his best, the messages were coming in way too quickly for Kuroo to be able to read them. Just as he was planning to give up, a donation came through:

@ username: $30 for kodzuken to finish the glass and share his thoughts.

Kuroo reads out loud the donation, and with a grin on his face, he turns to look at his childhood friend. It catches Bokuto's attention, and he also starts to look at Kenma, waiting for him to say something.

'Shit' Kenma thinks, as now all of the attention is on him and not on the buffy men beside him. He should've made them wear compression shirts to further distract people from him. He thanks whatever high deity is currently looking over him to make sure he won't drink too quickly and still have control over his tongue.

"I'm not thinking." Kenma tries his best to avoid talking, even if it will make him look weird. He has too much on his mind and even more to loose.

"No thoughts, nice." Bokuto chuckles softly as he zones out, staring at the wall behind one of the monitors. Kenma observes him for a bit just to see Bokuto blink too slowly for the streamers liking.

"He might need a glass or two before we can make him talk," Kuroo says as he pours another glass for Kenma the moment his friend focuses on the volleyball player.

As another round of drinks is poured, Kenma's judgement is getting more and more clouded. His tongue loosens up, which doesn't go unnoticed by his childhood friend. Kuroo, who was waiting for this moment, asks Kenma once again to share his thoughts. A few moments pass in silence before Kenma speaks up:

"I think I'm in love, and we don't even know each other." Kenma's head hangs low.

"So what? That never stopped anyone!" Bokuto hates seeing any of his friends sad, so he tries to cheer Kenma up. He even went as far as putting an arm around his friend, which was quickly pushed away.

"It makes me feel so stupid, y'know? Like I know close to nothing about them. I don't know what they look like or which school they go to. I only know their name because I made a whole ass discord account just so I could see all the backstage stuff of their videos. I'm in love with someone who doesn't even know that I fucking exist. I'm in love with an illusion, for fucks sake!" Kenma raises the hand with the glass in it so high so quickly that he loses his balance, Kuroo's swift moves being the only thing saving him from falling over.

Bokuto shakes his head to agree while he still tries to process the words that just left Kenma's mouth. It takes him a minute before his own mind can come up with a thought of his own. When it finally does, Bokuto screams out: "WE SHOULD PLAY A GAME!"

"Yeah, let's pick something," Kuroo agrees, getting closer to the PC to look for something not too hard that they can play. Part of him hopes that people will not remember Kenma's confession and focus their attention on something funny that will happen while playing.

"Yeah, let's pick something," Kuroo agrees, getting closer to the PC to look for something not too

Kodzuken's viewers, on the other hand, didn't plan on letting this go. It was the first time their favourite streamer mentioned being interested in anyone, and they saw an opportunity. As Kuroo and Bokuto look for a game, chat is getting to work, with the stream now being nothing more than background noise.

★ FUNFACTS ❗️

• mattsun is one of kenma's mods I needed a connection between (name) and kenma and the wheel landed on him

• also I have no clue why the date is in Polish since my entire phone uses English (like yes I'm from Poland but I changed the language in my settings years ago)

• also I feel like Bokuto zones out a lot when drunk

• kenma ignored request for drinking stream for months but he ran out of ideas so he just did it in hopes that people will have better request next time

@boogiemansbitch @vaedotcom @bae-ashlynn

#kenma x reader #kozume kenma x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu fanfiction #kenma x you #hq kenma #kenma x y/n #hq x reader #hq smau #hq fluff #hq fic

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halaboyz · 3 months

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spice and everything nice, seonghwa

ceo! ateez seonghwa x gn, employee! reader fluff wc: 11.4k warnings: rather detailed description of food and eating, ALL OVER THE PLACE ! not my best work but my best efforts though a/n: rrAAAAHHH i think this is my first time trying this trope?? lmao anw its inspired by a lot of scenes in kdrama 'dreaming of a freaking fairytale'! giving lots of my gratitude to my one and only ducky 4 deciding with me (which... ended up with spin the wheel) @ricsang !! ilysm <3

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to move out as soon as... tomorrow morning." Your landlord drops the bomb, and leaves you without a second glance, leaving you with a piece of dismissal paper and a list of your unpaid dues.

You gawk, closing the door behind you helplessly as your eyes wander around your flat, eye twitching at the sudden— is it really sudden— news with your head still hazy from the sunlight.

Sighing, your fingers quickly call your friend, your one and only, already placing a default smile on your face, although he won't see it. "My lovely, most gorgeous, kindest, prettie—,"

"What the fuck do you want so early in the morning?" Wooyoung growls through the line, and you hear his bed sheets as he probably twists and turns from his bed.

"Clear your lawn." Your default smile drops, "I'm moving in your lawn for a few days. I'll be there by lunch,"

You don't even wait for his answer before you drop the call, finally washing up to start and clean up the flat you've been living in for years, and been leeching off for months already.

"I cannot, for the life of me, absolutely believe you." Wooyoung stares at you in bewilderment, movers working behind you as they drop your boxed things in his lawn.

"I cannot absolutely believe how broke I am too, thank you very much. Do you have food? I'm starving. I spent my last on the moving company," You comfortably made your way through his house, immediately going to the kitchen and found his mom's kimchi lying in the counter.

"Don't touch anything, I'll just make you lunch," Wooyoung sighs, while you hop into the high chair, watching Wooyoung move around his territory. "Come on, y/n, just ask your family for some money. They're your family, of course they'll need to help with your masters fees. You've been LOA for what, almost a year now!"

"Look, Mr. Right," You take a gulp of water, "My family is not like yours, all mighty and well that you even have a house of your own while you take your masters, no dues, no bills." You state as a matter of fact, but take no offense of his opinions, picking on the nuts he provided you snack on while he cooks. "My family's already struggling as they are."

"So why take masters? Why not just go and work already?"

"Because they wanted it, too. I helped start my masters with some fees with my part time job, which unfortunately fired me because I ate one of their expired food, and then lived far away so they wouldn't worry much about me." You explained, and he sighs. He's sad he can't do anything to help you lighten your burden, which is why he lets you stay in his house with him.

Of course you had conscience. You insisted to stay in his lawn because you had a tent and a sleeping bag, but Wooyoung was a loyal friend after all. After a little more insisting from Wooyoung and his mom which he called for help, you and Wooyoung had finally agreed until you've found yourself some decent job.

"Don't your company have some free space?" You pout, looking through your laptop's screen for a whole hour now trying to find a job.

"Even if there was, I can't get you in there," Wooyoung sing sung, scrolling through his phone on your bed, lying in his tummy.

"Why? They're that strict?" You squint, facing him.

"The CEO himself handles who goes in and out of his company. Directly. Don't know what goes in that cold head of his," He shrugs, and faces you. "But it doesn't hurt to try. Your degree lines up with mine so they could consider you without a doubt. You also have a high GWA so,"

You nod, knowing there's nothing going to hurt when you try. You've been handing over a hundred resumes for hundreds of companies, what's one more, right?

"Oh my god," You barge into Wooyoung's room one evening, and thankfully he was only lying in his bed, "I got scheduled for an interview at your company tomorrow!"

"For real?" Wooyoung shoots up as he looks at the email on your phone, "It's real..." Wooyoung whispers, and stifles a chuckle. "Be at your fucking best tomorrow, you're getting head on with a fucking bull."

Well, Wooyoung mentioned a bull. But he didn't say that bull was the CEO himself, Park Seonghwa.

Park Seonghwa, consistently chosen as number one for consecutive years already as continuously rising businessman in the fashion industry by different newsletters and publications such as Vogue, GQ, Esquire, Arena Homme, of the many.

He sits in front of you all elegant and mighty, while you sit there almost wanting out with how he gazes at you. You feel so small in front of him, and feel like Wooyoung just dumped you into a hell hole.

But thinking of your situation, this wasn't a time where you feed your ego away to the birds. It was a desperate time, not only for you but also for your family. So you set your embarrassment aside, heading face on with the bull, as Wooyoung adviced.

"You're applying for?" It was like elegance and superiority was oozing out of his lips when he talked. Having a one on one interview with one of the living legends of the fashion industry was making you shake to your toes, goosebumps all over your body.

"Either marketing strategy or marketing secretary, if I may, sir." You confidently reply, straightening your back. Right. It was a time to be arrogant of your skills.

"Without experience, at that," Seonghwa scoffs, and tosses your file to the table. You almost swoon at how he sounds, but quickly shake your head to reality. "You may leave."

"I am quite the ambitious person, sir. And I have my experience. As an intern, you'll see it by the third page," You ignore his last order, sitting still in your chair.

"Which has been five years, and if I may add, at an already closed, blacklisted company," You didn't get to think about that. which almost crumbles your confidence down. but you stand your guard. "Leave."

"Let me prove my skills for a week. Just a week. Whatever tasks you give me, let me prove it." From all the companies that has accepted your almost empty resume that only consisted of academic achievements but zero experiences, you were quite— desperate by a lot.

Seonghwa scoffs again, crosses his legs and leans back to his chair.

"A day." Seonghwa offers, smirking. "Attract ten investors tomorrow, within the day and I'll even accept you to be my direct secretary." Seeing your dumbfounded face was something he found funny, because it was a funny offer, after all. "It's a take it or leave it offer. That's so much time I can offer to a candidate only,"

"We have a deal, then." When he hears your determined voice, he internally scoffs. You keep throwing him out of his zone, being the first one to do that. He raises an eyebrow in interest, letting him know for the last time that you had agreed to his offer for tomorrow.

"Was that a bad idea?" You almost cry to Wooyoung, thinking you're only walking right into the trap of embarrassing yourself.

"I don't want to pop your bubble but... absolutely." Wooyoung gives you a wry smile, patting your shoulder. "The company's been having a hard time getting new investors for a few months now, I think it's due to less and less creatives coming out. That's also why his secretary suddenly quit and signed with a rival company. Thinks it's the start of the downfall of Park Enchante."

You dramatically fall on your knees, losing all hope for yourself.

"I can't believe I just said those to the Park Seonghwa..." You almost whisper, "...who you didn't tell me is your CEO!" You point out when you suddenly remember, jumping to strangle him.

"I didn't get to?" He slyly tries to get out of your room in a hurry, but you immediately grab his jacket.

"You don't understand! He's a living legend! Did you know he's the youngest CEO who has established his own brand? Do you have any idea how much he's earned just a month after he established his company? How lovely his first works were? My god! I could go on and on!"

"It's not my fault that you didn't know his company name!" He struggles out of your reach, trying to calm you down. "And I'm not down bad for fashion like you are! I'm just someone who works at the company! Also, why apply for marketing, you literally have a god-given talent at styling and creating!" Wooyoung blurts out, and it makes you pout.

"I don't draw and sew shit anymore, Woo." You roll your eyes, plopping to the couch. "It's been years, come on now, let it go! I'm majoring in marketing now so goodbye creatives,"

"y/n, you were so good at that, you were even thinking of starting of making your own brand! Why didn't you push through with it anyway,"

"I didn't think I would earn from it anyway. And starting it would cost so much. Don't worry about it, hands were rusty anyway. I wasn't confident with my own works, too." The atmosphere glooms and you take responsibility for it, clapping and taking a sharp breath. "Anyway! Better be ready for tomorrow. You should go rest, I'll be readying files for tomorrow."

"You got the files?"

"Easily. With permission from your great CEO, the temp secretary gave all out to me at once." You sigh, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have 10 clients to meet tomorrow,"

"Holy shit, I can't get used to these big ass revolving doors," You whisper, and determinedly let out a huff as you admire the big Park Enchante blaring on top of the doors. "I'm getting you in my resume." You nod in commitment, patting your chest to cheer yourself up. But before you even take a step in, three consecutive cars rush in the front of the company, and you stop to see in curiosity.

People rush out of the two cars behind, one opening the car door of the first car.

There he was, so elegant and flashy, coming out of the car with his sunglasses on. Another held an umbrella up for him but he immediately takes it with him, shooting the butler a small smile.

It was the first time you see him smile. You never see him smile. In person (from yesterday's experience), online, whatever paper you see him on, he never smiles. Always that poker face, sleek, straightened-back, poised and just pure... elegance.

"Wow. He's so handsome," You curse through gritted teeth, unconsciously holding your breath as you watch him make his way inside. "He couldn't have seen me, right?" That was a surge of shame running down your veins.

It was rich coming from you that you even had the guts to apply to a company like this.

He wouldn't mind if you wouldn't show up for your deal, right?

"Right." You nod, heels turning around as you make up your mind not to show, gripping your coat and stepping away from the big doors.

Before you're stopped by closed, long, black umbrella.

"May I ask where you're going?" Seonghwa, the almighty himself, now without his sunglasses presents by your side, holding the umbrella up to your waist to stop you.

"Hi." You awkwardly chuckle, "I uh, umm," You think of an excuse, sighing. "Going for coffee. Before going in," You smile in default.

"Ah. Five minutes before supposed time in," He checks his watch, and then at you. "I do not condone late comers. And, coffee's provided in the lobby. Why go for a mile walk if you can get it here,"

"Ha. I didn't know that."

"You're pulling back from the deal." He stated as a matter of fact, taking the umbrella down.

"Why would I for a once in a lifetime offer," You chuckle, shaking your hand in front of him. "I need money to save my life, why would I," Being sarcastic doesn't even go through him.

"Get ready in ten. I'm coming with,"

"What?" You blurted out, face contorted into something... desperate. When Seonghwa turns around to look you in the eye once again. He raises his brow at your reaction, and you immediately fall into a default smile once again. "I mean, you're the CEO. Why would you need to come with,"

"I don't think you've heard," He sighs, confidently stepping towards you. "I'm in a quite desperate situation right now. And I can't quite trust an unskilled candidate employee to go alone with my files."

You inhale sharply as you fight the urge to roll your eyes, stepping towards him as well.

"I'll prove my skills, then." You confidently crane your neck, facing him head on with another challenge. "I'll get employed, get my skillful ass paid, and get out of your company. I'll bet you'll beg on your knees to not let me resign?" You shrug, waiting for his rebut.

He chuckles incredulously, tucking his hands in his pockets. And then he nods, taking your statement seriously.

"I'll be waiting for that day,"

And it wasn't even half the meeting for the first client to see how skillful you were. The way you communicated, the way how you had managed to study all about his company through the files he had provided, and how easily you gave your beautiful smile.

Oh that beautiful smile is what scammed him in this deal in the first place. Although he knew it was sarcastic and far from the real one, he liked it. How you showed confidence, how you were ambitious, how honest you were, how you showed no fear of the high figure in front of you.

It was fresh to see in the industry.

Before he even shoots back to reality, you were done with your first client in thirty minutes. Hopping back to the seat two tables away to observe you after the client has gone, Seonghwa swiftly turns his gaze toward you.

"How was it? Did you fail already?" Seonghwa blinks, but you just open the file folder to present to him, falling flat at the table, signed.

"Promptly, the successful second client meeting will be in another ten minutes, at the hotel next door. Let's get moving, my dear CEO." You smiled, closing the folder and waving it at him.

It wasn't even long before you had finished eight more clients. Seonghwa had stayed silent, only tailing on you and continuously giving you additional information you asked for.

While talking with your last client, your eyes moved to him as he rest his elbow on the armrest of the couch he was sitting on. His eyelids were falling with his chin in his palm, legs crossed. It looked very uncomfortable, making you quicken the pace of the last meeting.

"Thank you very much. We'll contact you once again for future meetings and appointments. I appreciate you coming in person." You bid your farewell, watching him thank and smile at you, shaking hands before going his own way.

When he's out of sight, you made your way quietly two tables away where Seonghwa sat solemnly, sitting in front of him. When he feels it was too... quiet, his eyes finally open to see you sitting in front of him, reading more files he had handed out.

"Ten over ten clients signed. What do you think about that?" You arrogantly shook non-existent dust on your shoulders, leaning back on the chair.

Seonghwa chuckles, scooting to a more proper posture. "You're hired from the first client itself. Saw how you do, saw your potential. Nine more clients were a bonus. Quite impressive, I have to give you that."

"You're beautiful when you smile. Why don't you do it more often?" You scoff, making him squint his eyes at you. "Thank you, sir." You smile, that always default smile. Seonghwa still likes it, though. "I'll treat dinner, follow me. You must be tired." You offer to your huge CEO, gaining ego and confidence now.

"Follow where? We're already at a hotel, we can just eat here." Seonghwa looks around, confused. "And I think you've come to grow a little comfortable with me too much, secretary."

"One, you think my wallet can handle a five-star hotel restaurant?"

"Then you can let me pay for dinner." You shush him sharply, glaring.

"Two, its beyond working hours. You wanted to go with me so I'm giving you the chance of being treated by a broke person. You wanted to go with me so it is not my fault that I can't keep being polite and straight up sucking up all day with you." You ramble, reasoning your hunger for it. When he raises his brow, you press your lips to a thin line. "...Sir."

He scoffs, until he lets you lead the way on where to eat. You lead him to a small grilling house near your neighborhood, coming in like it's already your home.

"Oh, you're with someone new today? Where's Wooyoung?" The owner welcomed you, leading you to a free table.

"Please don't tell him I dined here tonight," You scrunch your nose, patting Seonghwa to let him sit. "We'll take Set B, with a plus of two beers," You smile, and watch the owner hop away after winking at you.

He hesitates, seeing how molds were forming at the corner of the walls.

"Humble setting." Seonghwa mumbles, still looking around in awe. His face scrunches when he sees cobwebs in his side of wall, flinching.

"What, you want to switch?" You chuckle, looking at him in disbelief.

"Yes, please." Seonghwa immediately stands up and almost pushes you out of your seat, making you scoff in disbelief.

"This is the best grilling house in town. Haven't you at least heard of it? This ambience makes the food even better and here you are scrunching your beautiful face."

"I've never been to such... humble place," Seonghwa doesn't even look at you. He keeps looking around, as if he was there to scan the place for more cobwebs or worse. "Can't we eat at a more proper place?"

Just at the right timing, the tray was set rather angrily in the table, which made the both of you two jump. The owner scowls at Seonghwa, taking what he said as an insult.

"I think i might just prefer the loud one than a classy one," The owner rolls her eyes before leaving, eyes still glaring at Seonghwa as she does.

You chuckle as you notice Seonghwa stunned in his seat, looking like a kid who just got scolded.

"I'm betting my everything you'll love the food here." You ready your chopsticks, and with your other hand, start grilling the pork and beef. You expertly moved both hands simultaneously, the other mixing the sizzling stir-fried squid while Seonghwa watched you in awe, for the nth time today.

He just finds you interesting.

When finished, you put a mouthful on top of his rice and urged him to take a bite, giddy on your toes to see how he would react.

"Go ahead," You nod, waiting for him. He looks at you and the food suspiciously, and then around. God just please let it be edible. Seonghwa thinks, before finally picking up his spoon and letting the weird thing in his mouth.

You watch him as his suspicious eyes turned into wide ones, urgently taking another sweep of food. You chuckle, smiling proudly and taking your own portion. You began to eat quietly, only observing how the both of you finished in thirty minutes when you and Wooyoung usually finish the set in an hour and a half.

"Looks like you were hungry." You smile, looking at him finish his last bite.

"I mean, wow," He wipes his mouth elegantly with the tissue, tapping his tummy. "That was the most I've eaten for months," He was unlike the CEO who has been uptight and poised the whole time, but rather a kid who had just discovered his now new favorite food and restaurant.

He looks around and finds the owner still glaring at him but did he care? No. He raises two thumbs up and mouths a wow, pointing at a squeaky clean tray and grill. The owner only lets out a scoff, shaking her head.

"It looks like it's your first time eating like this, what life were you living?" You embarrassingly whisper, pushing his hands down.

"It is." Seonghwa mumbles, gulping down the glass of beer. "You see, I've always gone to fine hotels and restaurants and I didn't have the leisure to go around small towns so,"

You coo in disappointment, "You're just in the tip of the iceberg, then," You chuckle. "Let me pour you a glass. To thank you for employing me," You offer the can of beer, waiting for him to offer his own glass. When he does, he gets the can and waits for you to offer yours.

"To my new secretary," He raises his glass, and you smile.

"To my new CEO,"

"God..." You mumble, getting the hair out of your face as sunlight hits you. "My head fucking hurts..."

You grumble, throwing the comfortable sheets over your head and cuddling the warm pillow beside you.

Wait, sunlight?

And a warm pillow beside you? For all you know, your bed in Wooyoung's house only fitted your own body. And there was only a little window that sunlight doesn't even touch your bed.

This wasn't Wooyoung's house. You open one eye to inspect, your eyebrows meeting the first thing in the morning.

"Oh my god." You whisper, hand flying to your mouth to shut the fuck up.

It wasn't a warm pillow. It was a body.

Scratch that, your new boss' body.

You did not just sleep in one bed with your boss. You were still in denial when you slowly took the sheets off of you, sneaking out of bed.

You take a glance to make make sure if it was indeed your boss, taking the sheets that covered his face too.

You gasp, confirming it when his face becomes clear, sleeping sweetly and tightly. You mock cry, hitting your head as you get your purse and your shoes, tippy toeing out of the pension he owned. At least you were both still fully clothed.

You just pray to the gods no one saw you.

You remember getting hellbent drunk with beers last night, calling a designated driver to drive the both of you home with Seonghwa's car. Apparently, you had asked the driver to wait for you while you walked an almost sleepwalking, drunk Seonghwa to his flat and to his room, but he only had a waiting time of thirty minutes so when you didn't show up, he parked the car and left.

When you got to his flat, you threw him to his bed as he cradled his own blanket. His bed looked so comfortable and you swore that you were just going to try lying on it for five minutes.

That five minutes turned into the whole night.

"Where the hell did you stay?!" Wooyoung welcomes you, hitting your shoulder. "What happened? Did you get the job? Why do you have a bedhair? Where did you sleep?"

"I got the job! I have ten minutes to get ready so I'll answer all your questions later. Wait for me!"

It was one whole hell of a story to tell when Wooyoung's the recipient. He keeps on talking backin the middle, talk shit about his boss and how proud he is of you for finally landing a job- the direct secretary of the CEO at that.

"Good morning, sir." You shamelessly greet, handing him a cup of coffee while you tailed him to his huge office.

"Well aren't you very polite now," Seonghwa takes a seat in his office chair, leaning his head back and eyebrows met in between due to the aching head he had after waking up with an alarm.

"I have to keep my job now, don't I?" You smile, the default one you always held. "Would you prefer a hot coffee? I can make you one right now," You offer, heading to the side of the coffee maker in his office to make one for him.

"I drank too much last night I don't remember a thing. Did you get home safe?" Seonghwa's voice was laced with worry, watching your back.

You chuckle nervously, slightly trembling as you make your way to him with his cup of coffee. Careful not to spill it, you put it on his desk.

"Of course I did! Haha!" You reply, clapping even. "I had so much fun, I didn't even get drunk so I was able to go home," When you see Seonghwa nod, you internally sigh in relief. Clasping your hands, you smile again. "Please give me something to do now, dear CEO. This is the day I've been waiting for,"

"Oh yeah?" Seonghwa held a devious smile, standing up from his seat and walking up to a tall shelf of files and files and files. He picks, one, two, three, four, five thick documents and hands them to you all at once, making you stumble on your feet. "I need reports of these documents by tonight. And if ever I need you, I'm ringing this bell. Have you introduced yourself to everybody? Make sure you're getting along with everyone. With your attitude, I think you're going to need it." Seonghwa taps the top document in your hands, making his way to his seat back again.

He feigns ignorance by raising his brows, as if asking you what had you stunned on your place.

"I think I'll do just fine, Mr. Park. Shouldn't take advice from yours truly now, should I?" You smile, difficulty making your way out of his office.

After settling on your large table, you sat comfortably on your seat.

"Wow. Okay, this is really happening." You whisper, in awe of your own table, own nameplate, and the pile of work you're about to do. "I'm doing it. I'm working," You whisper in disbelief, internally screaming and punching the air continuously for about a minute before slapping yourself back to reality, starting your work.

In the other side of the window, Seonghwa watched you in amazement, chuckling. Such a peculiar attitude you had, it kept him in his toes.

"Done!" Not even three hours in, you had barged in his office, putting his files back to his table.

"That's a day's worth of work of a secretary. What do you mean you're done?" Seonghwa had his CEO mode on, making you politely smile. He began to run through the files, analyzing your work.

Peculiar, and good at work.

"That's a day's worth? What secretaries have you been having?" You furrow your brows, skeptic. "I'm just naturally good at work. I told you, you won't regret hiring me. Is there something more I should do?" You smile, waiting for him to finish scanning your work.

"Incredible. You may now go home," Seonghwa nods in acknowledgement, and you crane your neck. "What?"

"...That's it?"

"Well, I don't have any more meetings schedules today, don't I?" Seonghwa confirms, setting the files in the side with a sigh. When you nod, he nods as well. "There's your answer. You can now go home."

"It's not even twelve noon, though?" You question, taking a double look at your watch. "Give me work worth of my pay, I'll feel guilty if you let me do that alone," You demand, even offered your hand to him.

He chuckles, "That's what good workers get. Early leaves." Seonghwa just looks at you with a smile, but you only pout, looking at your offered hands. You still wait for him, and he finally looks around. "I really don't have anything else for you to do though..."

"Then we can't do anything about that," You disappointingly lower your hands, finally bidding goodbye and thanking him for today. "You can call my phone number if you need anything. Please make sure I have a lot to do tomorrow," You chuckle, heading to the door. You hear him chuckle before you closed the doors behind you, heading to the marketing department. "Woo!"

"Oh, you're here," Wooyoung exclaims, side-hugging you and leading you to his table. He was about to leave for lunch break. "What do you mean you're done?"

"He said he gave me a day's worth of work. And he really didn't ring the bell so no one disturbed me so," You explained, bored. "I really don't have anything to do now."

"You can help me with mine," Wooyoung slyly offers, making you squint your eyes.

"No thanks. This is a blessing, I guess," You take a bite of your lunch, while Wooyoung delves into his. He looked more in a rush than you, since he still had work to do. "Can I ask you something?"

"Aren't you already asking?" Wooyoung's childish remark makes you roll your eyes.

"What time does Seonghwa usually leave work?"

"For what, you're going to tail him?"

"Wooyoung," You grunt, slapping his arm.

"I don't know. You should ask the security. We all leave before him. I've never seen him leave work before us unless he's been out since noon for meetings and events and such,"

You nod, finally letting Wooyoung eat in peace. After you're both done, you let Wooyoung get back by himself to his department as you head to the entrance security, asking around. Only to find out that he usually leaves late at night, from nine to even midnight.

You pout, checking your phone. He hasn't really texted you anything he needed or called you for something, and it's just two in the afternoon.

"Maybe he's just cutting me some slack since it's my first day. I should just take it," You breathe out, heading out of the office with your things.

You were wrong. It's been two whole weeks and you've constantly been getting early leaves because you finish early. And Seonghwa has not been giving you more work unless needed- but still, you were able to complete and finish it earlier than expected.

"I can't keep doing this," You pout. "Another early leave? Aren't there more works to do? Reports? Client appointments to make? You're just going to make me leave again? Can't you just make me clean your whole office? Make you coffee? Anything?" You ramble, feeling guilty.

"That's not a secretary's work," He snorts, standing up. He stretches his upper body and you can't seem to tear your eyes off of him while he does so, reminiscing how warm he felt that one morning. You shake your head to reality when you realize he's working towards you, holding your shoulders.

"Come on, I have four more hours before my shift ends!" You protest, but he only twists your body to face the door, and leave you out of it.

"Your work's done, y/n. Thank you for today, I'll see you tomorrow." He softly smiles, and you're out of the door. You face him, almost pleading. He softly shoos you away, and the door is closed.

You throw a simple tantrum outside his door, feeling bored two minutes after your work was done. And just like clockwork, whenever you're done for work, you come to the marketing department to cause chaos in Wooyoung's table while he worked.

You even fell asleep beside him.

Meanwhile Seonghwa, an hour after shooing you, peeked outside to see if you've gone home, and seeing you gone, he chuckles to himself. If you were going to go home anyway, why were you even giving him an earful?

"God, you're so adaptive. You sleep anywhere," Wooyoung shakes you awake, and he's standing up with his things. "Should we go home? It's nearing dinner,"

"Oh..." You stretch, checking your watch. "You go ahead, I'll check on my boss first and see if he needs anything," You pat his arms, "I'll text you," When Wooyoung nods, you give yourself another stretch before heading to the elevators, bumping into hundreds of workers about to go home. At the highest level, there were three or four workers left that were already fixing their things.

"Excuse me, hi." You stop one of them, "Has Mr. Park eaten?"

"I don't think he has," They ponder, "I don't think I saw him gone out of his office after the last meeting before you left. That's it."

After thanking them and letting them go their way, you peek at the big windows to see Seonghwa still working, the brightness of the computer screen blaring at his face.

"He's so handsome," You admire for a minute, before going your way.

Seonghwa scratches his eyes as he heaves a deep breath, standing up from his seat after a while. He walks around, stretching here and there, and then standing up before the glass windows to see the view outside. The city was now in its rush hour, lights living up. Seonghwa almost jumps when he hears a knock, head whipping towards the door.

"y/n?" He squints, confirms it was you when you smile and make your way in. "What are you still doing here? I thought you left?"

"I didn't. I was too guilty to do so," You chuckle, getting the rolling tray table to the side. "I was waiting for you to call or text but I get nothing. What a work," You shake your head, and you reveal a plastic of lunchbox. "I was told you never left your office. So I'm guessing breakfast was what you last ate. Apart from that, hundreds of coffee and your unbelievably expensive chocolate candies you have in your refrigerator,"

Seonghwa almost hops at the sight of food, getting his chair and ready to dig in. It was a scrumptious meal, making Seonghwa exclaim in happiness.

"This is from that restaurant, isn't it?" Seonghwa says in between bites, gulping down the food. You chuckle, nodding. "I missed it. Thank you for bringing it for me," Seeing Seonghwa eat so deliciously makes you smile, admiring him once more. "How about you, have you eaten?"

"I did, before getting here. With Wooyoung," You reply, roaming around his table. You see countless of drawings of clothing styles paired together, one catching your eye. You crane your neck, thinking about something about the clothes. "I think it would be better with nets topped with it..." You whisper, and Seonghwa whips his head to you.

"What was that?" Seonghwa asks, and only did you realize what you were doing.

"Nothing." You smile, showing him the papers. "Beautiful, Seonghwa. I think you're doing great," You place the papers down neatly, careful not to ruin it in any way.

Seonghwa takes your compliment to heart, making him stop munching. He smiles, genuinely. To hear a compliment when he's struggling the most and is not very confident in his own work makes him choke up, but he endures it.

He doesn't know whether it felt more genuine because you were more genuine than you sounded before, always sarcastic and work-driven. Or if it was how you used his name so freely and comfortably that it seemed more genuine to him.

Nevertheless, he liked it.

"You're done? You must've been very hungry," You question, peeking at the almost clean lunchbox. "Stop overworking and digesting too much coffee. Neither is good for your body," You help Seonghwa clean the table up, earning silence.

"Wait for me, I'll drive you home." Seonghwa quickly picks his things up, shutting the computer down.

"What? Your driver?"

"It's beyond working hours," He chuckles, "And I always go home late. I can drive myself home,"

"So the rumors were true," You gasp, feeling a bit sad about his situation. "But don't worry taking me home, it's just one bus away,"

"No, let me. You've been waiting for me and even brought me dinner, I owe you." He insists, taking his bag. "Let's go"

You quietly follow him to the parking, thinking about how hardworking this man was already. He deserved his spot, he deserved everything with all the work he's been doing. What he doesn't deserve was this inevitable situation, wherein all creatives were in a slump.

"Please," You realize Seonghwa had been holding the passenger's seat for you, and you look at him in question. "What, you're planning to sit at the back? Make me your driver? Your boss?"

"No- I mean, I can just-"

"Just sit," Seonghwa urges, pulling you closer and pushing you inside. You grow uncomfortable at the situation, uneasy at your seat. "Want me to buckle your seatbelt as well?"

"No, I can do it myself," You quickly buckle your own seatbelt, watching Seonghwa close your door and jog to his seat. "You know, I can drive you rather,"

"You can?"

"...If I had a driver's license, that is." You shyly giggle, looking outside.

Seonghwa almost pulls you in to pinch your cheeks, but he stops himself. He finds you so cute when you giggled, finding it hard to hold himself. He busies himself with the GPS, getting your attention.

"Input your address now, it's getting late,"

"Ah, right," You scoot closer to the GPS, putting in Wooyoung's address and smiling. "Thank you," You say, before he starts the car and whispers a shy 'weicome.'

You quickly send Wooyoung a short message informing him of your whereabouts.

"You live close by," Seonghwa starts a small talk. "I live just down the street,"

You look at Seonghwa to react, but god the way his sleeves are pulled up and how his vest hugged his figure so perfectly made him look so ethereal.

"...here," You hear Seonghwa's voice zoom back in to reality, making you jump in your seat. "We're here."

"Sorry, I was zoning out," You apologize, looking around and indeed was outside Wooyoung's house.

"I figured," Seonghwa laughs, "I was just babbling around," He looks around as well, seeing how all the lights inside are blaring. "You must be living with someone? Or you just really leave all lights on?"

"Ah. Yes, I live with Wooyoung," Seonghwa's eyebrows furrow, looking at you rummaging your phone to send a text. "Thank you very much for driving me home, please do go home safely. I can't ask you to send me a text when you're home, that'll be too... much for a secretary, wouldn't it?" You chuckle, hopping out of the car.

After thanking him again, Seonghwa urges you to go inside before he speeds off, watching you go inside safely. He peeks inside, using his height as a plus to see up the gates. Wooyoung welcomes you outside and you jump right in his arms, and he sighs.

Right. Living together in one roof, dinners and breaks together. he might have just gotten his heart broken a bit with the information.

Seonghwa gets home safely and loosens his tie, plopping on his couch with a thud.

He looks at his high ceiling, stares. It still brings him to a smile thinking about your effort a while ago, stretching his arms and resting it in his forehead.

He likes you. Of course, as a secretary. Nothing more. Should be nothing more.

But when he sleeps tightly while thinking of you, the sleep he's been wanting for a few years now, so peaceful and deep, he rethinks again. Maybe, just maybe, a little more than just a secretary.

"Good morning!" You welcome, handing him his usual morning coffee. "You slept in today? That's a first," You chuckle, tailing him to head to his office.

"That's a first for me too," He mumbles, steps quick as he's late for about an hour already.

"Why are you in such a rush? You're the president here, no one's going to scold you," You try to keep up, almost tripping on your own feet. He doesn't even give you a glance since he step foot inside, making you pout.

"I've got tons of work to do, you're my secretary. I think you should know that," He sighs defeatedly, which makes you shut your mouth. He makes his way elegantly through his office, immediately opening his computer and getting to work.

After seeing him in his office, you quietly do your own work in your table, stealing glances only here and there inside the office. When you hear a beep from your machine, you jolt up and run to his office.

"Hi, sorry. I need you to do more reports, here are the files." He stretches out more documents, and you quickly hug it to your chest. You wait for a minute or two for him to even glance at you, but to no avail. You awkwardly make your way out of the office, getting to work.

When it's lunch time, you finally stand up to stretch your body and leave for lunch, intentionally dragging work to be able to stay longer. You peek inside to see Seonghwa still in his place, drawing different designs and looking at his computer.

"Woo," You say, taking a bite of your food, "Your boss is so complicated, do you know that?"

"Why? Did something happen?"

"One day he acts close, the second day he's so distant. Or is it just because he's late today? Catching up with lots of work?" You crane your neck, clicking your tongue.

He scoffs, putting his spoon down.

"Hey, y/n. Did you know that you've been spending more time with him than me these past weeks?" He puts on a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hey! That's because it's literally my work?" You protest, taking the last bite. "Also, all this time I've been getting off work early, I go home and rest!"

"That doesn't count, I'm not home." Wooyoung shakes his head. "If you weren't home though, you're waiting for him to finish work. You don't think I know that? You sneak out after having dinner with me, saying you need some air and then come back almost midnight,"

"That's... because!"

"Don't try explaining, I understand. Our president's very likeable. Handsome and successful. He just has his bad days," Wooyoung states as a matter-of-fact, nodding.

"What, like being late in his own company?" You roll your eyes, pushing your tray.

"He's never late. Maybe that's why,"

"What's wrong with being late? There was a time I was never late too!"

"Why are you getting mad at me, I'm literally just stating facts here and trying to console you!" Wooyoung and you have been unconsciously raising your voices, making you apologize around immediately.

You meet Seonghwa's eyes in the entrance, making you jump as if a deer caught in headlights. You don't even know but you feel guilty, looking right at him with apologetic eyes.

He just ignores and turns his back on you, going his own way. You quickly grab your things and drink Wooyoung's water, glaring at him as you try and catch up with Seonghwa.

"Weren't you going to go grab lunch?" You ask, feet busy.

"I was. I didn't like the menu," Seonghwa replies, rushing back to his office.

"Should I get you lunch outside?"

"There's no need."

"I insist. I still have ten minutes for my break. I can get you something you want. There's a lot of restaurant near anyway,"

"y/n, there's no need. I'll just continue my work,"

"Still, you should eat."

"I said there's no need, y/n." His voice wasn't loud, but stern and strong. Just like you viewed him before you worked for him. His look was cold, as if you had just touched a sensitive button for him.

You felt small at that moment, shuffling your hands in awkwardness and shame. You may have felt too comfortable with your boss in such a little time.

"Alright, sorry." You mumble, eyes falling down in an instant and politely apologizing. You step back to reach for the door handle and invite yourself out.

Seonghwa beats himself up right when the door closes but wakes himself up immediately. He's got no time for anything else but his work. He has to work.

So when he glances outside the windows to look at you, he brainwashes himself that he did nothing to be apologetic to you and proceeds to work.

"Here are the last reports, is there anything more I can do?" You confirm, and only with a shake of a head he shoos you off. You politely, once again, bid your farewell and immediately take your leave, heading straight to Wooyoung.

It was the first time you had finished work right before designated off work time, Wooyoung already preparing to go home.

"Why do you look so down?"

"Nothing," You smile, tailing him home. Wooyoung doesn't press on it, changing to a different topic. You stop when you realize you're in front of the restaurant you always eaten dinner.

"I think I'm gonna pass, Woo. I can accompany you eat though,"

Wooyoung ended up only ordering a take out, feeling sorry with the thought of eating alone in front of you if you weren't going to eat. He doesn't ask any more, you were probably going to tell him if you can't handle it yourself.

"I'll take a walk around first, Woo. Clear my head," Your feet ends up in front of your company, hand holding a plastic of food. "What the hell am I even doing here,"

You sigh, heading inside and to his office sneakily. You hesitate whether to bother him again and make him eat dinner, because he may skip both lunch and dinner at this point.

When you peek inside the windows, he was focused on his work, holding a paper up to see if any new ideas will pop up if he stretched it out through the light. Again, you sigh, leaving the company all at once when you realize that you might step beyond the boundary once again.

Seonghwa groans in frustration as he sets the paper down, no new ideas popping up. He decides to call it a night and starts packing up, turning the computer off.

When he turns the knob and felt it heavy, he turns to look at the plastic left hanging on it.

You skipped lunch so please eat dinner. I'm saying this with the sense of responsibility as your secretary. Don't overwork and sleep tight. y/n.

He read the note and left him with a smile, taking the plastic with him as he goes home and eats it deliciously. To be honest, he was quite expecting you to be waiting for him once again like how you did last night. But after his burst out, he realizes that maybe it was too much that he was even expecting that from you.

The food was great, it would've been better if you were there, though.

This continues on for the rest of the week. Leaving food in his door, Seonghwa expecting to see food once he leaves work, Seonghwa and you only talking when you need it for work. That's it.

You don't cross the boundary once more, doing your best with your work until your first paycheck.

"A million?!" You blink rapidly to see if you were only dreaming, looking at your bank account with previously only a dollar and sixty-seven centavos.

"A million?!" Wooyoung exclaims when he hears you, rushing to your phone. "What the fuck?! You're a millionaire within a month?!"

"What the fuck! Must've been an honest mistake, I got to text Seonghwa,"

"Keep it! God-given blessing, duh!" You roll your eyes at Wooyoung, immediately asking Seonghwa to call you once his schedule is free. "You and your reasons, you just want to talk to him!"

"Well, who doesn't?!" Clearly, yes, you're only making up reasons to gain just a minute of extra attention from Seonghwa, and you don't put effort into denying that. "Shush!" You shut Wooyoung off when you read Seonghwa's message that he's free now, immediately dialing his number.

"Hi. You know what, could you please go to the office now? I'll be waiting. Sorry if this is sudden," Seonghwa initiates, and you hear a sigh. "I just have one more document to do and then I'm free,"

"If you have something to do, it's fine. I'll be there tomorrow anyway. It's nothing to rush."

"It's okay, I have something to confirm too and I need it tonight. Only if it's not a hassle though,"

"I'll be there in twenty."

You know softly and peek inside, seeing Seonghwa solemnly napping in his desk, head over arms. Papers were scattered around his table, two empty cups of coffee at the side, monitor still blaring. You walk quietly, making your way to admire his face a little longer.

You smile, wanting to trace his sharp features, craning your neck to get a better view. Your eyes follow his eyes, nose, lips, and then the table.

What the fuck.

Your eyes widen at the realization, stunned in place. At the same time, your nervous, heavy breathing wakes Seonghwa up, opening his eyes and blushing when he realizes how close you were.

"Why are these here?!" You exclaim, snatching three, four, five papers from the table. Seonghwa sighs when you finally got space between the both of you, taking a minute or two to calm himself down before he answered you.

"I was finding the invitation for tomorrow night's event, saw those on your drawer." Seonghwa explains, while you gawk at your drawings. When you were bored, you tried mix and matching different styles of clothes, designing them, and drawing them to life. "Did you make these?" He leans back in his chair, swiveling to your side.

"Ye- No? I don't know? I mean," You ramble, shaking your head. You take a deep breath, thinking how to excuse yourself out of the situation.

There was no way out.

"Look, I just made those when I was bored. It's shit." You wave your hand off, hiding the papers behind your back. "Let me go get the invitation and I'll be off," Before you take a step away, Seonghwa stands up in his place and walks toward you.

When he's a step away in front of you, he stops, tucking his hands in his pockets and stares down at you.

"Were you initially planning on applying for designs?"

"No." Your quick reply makes him squint his eyes, waiting for you to continue. "Where would I get the confidence for that?" You scoff, "I told you, I needed money to continue my masters, I have a degree in business marketing. Why would I apply for something not in my field?"

"Because you don't need a degree for that. All I need is creativity and originality."

"Just let me off, sir. I told you, these were made during breaks, you don't need to put much thought on it,"

"Now I'm a sir?" Seonghwa scoffs, taking a step closer and leaning to meet you eye level. "If those were made during breaks, what more could you do if you're paid to do it? Something you really love doing, getting paid, seeing your works being brought to life, and getting credited for it,"

You gulp, realizing that Ha, Seonghwa isn't dumb to connect the dots. With the way you denied your works, bragged your unrelated degree and how you avoided the topic, for sure it was something you'd keep in the dungeon because you didn't realize you'd be much closer step to one of your unrealistic dreams.

You were just a broke college student taking a LOA because of a crisis in financial status two months ago, who knew you'd be working in one of the biggest fashion brands in the world? When you thought you've had let go of your useless talent and dream long ago already?

"I'll get these," Seonghwa reaches for the papers you hid behind your back with a smirk while you had your guard down, showing it to you. "Let's get you home."

You stayed quiet the whole ride, thinking of what Seonghwa had said. Were your works really just acknowledged by the one and only? Works that, for you, even made half-heartedly? Should you have applied for creatives than marketing? Should you have never even hidden your talent and skills?

If you hadn't, then where would you be now? What would you be now?

"We're here." Seonghwa turns on the hazard, removing his seatbelt to take a good look at you.

"Ah," You mumble, removing your own. "Thank you." You were about to open the door when he stops you, tugging your sleeve.

"I mean what I said with your works." He starts, "I have a spot open in the creatives in case you want to, but no pressure." You nod quietly, mumbling another thank you. You open the door and leave, standing safely beside and waiting for him to drive off.

Before he does, he rolls the windows down and smiles at you softly.

"Meet me tomorrow at the entrance of Lotte Mall at eight in the morning if you have the slightest interest in it," You nod once again, pushing through a smile before he asks you to leave first.

You open the gates to the house, seeing the lights still on, Wooyoung must still be waiting for you.

"Hey," You call softly, landing in the couch. Wooyoung was preparing hot tea for you, asking you to wait for a second. When he skedaddles to the living room with the tea, he immediately notices your expression.

"How did the salary talk go?"

"Oh, went south," You chuckle, taking a sip of the tea that warmed your insides. "I didn't even get to bring it up,"

"What happened?! Are you fired?!" He exaggerates, slamming the table. You chuckle, calming him down.

"No, but he found my drawings I did during break and long story short, said he has a spot open in the creatives." Wooyoung's shoulders drop when he realizes that you, Seonghwa, and him had messed with a sensitive spot of yours, making you think of countless possibilities.

But at the end of the rainbow, he thinks that this might be a good shot at rekindling your dreams.

"y/n... Don't you think it's worth the try?" He takes your hand and caresses it, "Park Enchante is literally offering you a spot because the president liked your work! It's a great steppingstone, a large one at that!" Wooyoung tries to be optimistic, at the same time realistic. "You've always been the talented one, y/n. Don't you think you didn't have to dig up that dream you once buried because Seonghwa already did it for you?"

You stayed quiet all this time, but tears were already forming in your eyes and in no time, flowing.

Seonghwa dug up your dream for you, Wooyoung rekindled it, and it was now up to you to keep the dream going.

"Are we waiting for someone, sir? The tailor for your suit should be inside," His driver holds the umbrella up for him, already been standing outside the entrance of the mall for a good five minutes or so.

"Just one more minute," He looks at his watch, which read 8:13, and around. You hadn't given him any text, but he waits in case. He sighs when the clock ticks another minute, ready to go in when he hears quick heavy steps, revealing a fresh-from-a-run you.

"I'm here! I'm here..." You catch your breath, holding your arm up high while your other assisted your body to your knees.

Seonghwa's smile grows big, and his driver takes a double look because he hadn't seen his boss smile like that the past 5 years he's been working under him.

"You can leave now, y/n will stay with me," He smiles brightly at the driver, patting his shoulder as he walks closer to you.

"Lotte mall is such a long ride from home, why would you pick this one amongst all the other?!" You're still catching your breath, holding yourself from hitting him.

"Let's head inside, it's much warmer there and we could get you a drink." Seonghwa lends you a helping hand, stretching his arm out for you to hold on to. "My favorite tailor is here, that's why I picked this one," He leads you to a shop after resting for a while, proudly pointing at it.

As you head inside, you see various of designs of suits and blouses and shirts and different kinds of clothing for men that god, you just want to try and match different things and style it your own way and everything.

He watches you be in awe as your eyes roam around, seeing your eyes sparkle just like how his did when he first step foot in this shop.

"Your suit's ready sir, this way please."

"Wait for me here, I'll get out once I'm done," You only nod at him and roam around the shop while waiting for him, styles catching your eye.

"Seonghwa definitely fits this shop," You mumble, a smile on your lips.

"I'm ready," You hear Seonghwa from behind, and you turn to look at him.

God. He's so beautiful.

He presented with a simple suit, but with a turtleneck inside, necktie loosely worn, vest tightly hugging his figure and coat only hanging on his broad shoulders. He had loose, leather trousers that fit just perfectly the style of the top, making you gawk. (for reference: that one golden hour concept photo outfit)

It was such a simple outfit for someone like him, but Seonghwa radiated so much charisma, elegance and of course, superiority.

When you realize you were staring too much, which made Seonghwa almost twirl in his place in shyness, you smile smugly.

"Nice. Screams so much like you," You bluntly compliment, but Seonghwa knew better that you meant so much more. He knows that eyes will never lie, speaking as someone who speaks with various fashionistas every single chance he gets.

"Thank you," He mumbles, fighting his own demons to smile so wide. "Now, it's your turn."

"My turn? My turn for what?" You question, but he only pushes you out of the shop after loudly thanking the tailors once again. "For what, pres?"

"Your outfit." You both stand outside a humungous branch of Park Enchante, lights shining brightly to welcome you.

"For what?! Look, my bank account can't handle a single thread in your store, what the hell am I even here for? I know you just paid me a million, which I have a question for another time, but here?! And for what?!"

"Don't worry about that," Seonghwa shakes his hand in front of you, urging you to come in with him. You had no choice but to tail him, a habit you built for the past two months.

"This, this this..." Seonghwa was literally picking everything his eyes land on, making you try this and that and playing dress up with you. "No, no, no. Skip that," And of course, a lot getting rejected.

"Seonghwa, may this be the last one or I swear to the heavens I am passing out inside this fitting room right then and now," When you open the door, it takes Seonghwa a minute or two before he claps slowly, and loudly.

"That!" He points, "That's your outfit," He proudly stands up to walk closer and take a good look at you, swirling you around. He smiles proudly and sighs, pushing your shoulders to a well-lit full body mirror. "You look amazing," He sweetly smiles, making you feel all giddy inside. "I'll be at the counter. You don't need to change back to your clothes," He pats your shoulder and leaves, making you take a good look at yourself.

He was right. You looked amazing. The outfit was literally made for you. You smile as your hands roam around it, admiring it.

"Right." You mumble, patting at yourself. "Amazing."

"Let's go?" Seonghwa asks, carrying the paper bags which consisted of both his and your clothes from a while ago.

"Shouldn't I go change? What's this for anyway?"

"For tonight." He explains, shaking his head when you try to get the paper bags from him.

"And why do I get one as well?"

"Because you're coming with?" He rhetorically answers, as if you should've known.

"For your information, my dear CEO, the event for tonight will be private, consisting of directives of Park Enchante only. No outsiders allowed," You explain, "Now I'm going to change back to my clothes because there is no way I'm getting this just because you're the owner,"

"I'm the owner, I could do what I want." He stretches his arm up high, making it impossible for you to reach the paper bags. "And I'm the CEO. I could invite who I want. Now let's get going because one, I'm hungry, two, we'll be running late for the event if we don't eat now and go for the event."

"Oh my god, what am I even doing here," You quietly stand in one corner, seeing Seonghwa mingle with other directives in the small hall.

The event was meant for a small, formal gathering for a supposedly, announcement that will be made by the CEO himself. But an hour in, Seonghwa still hasn't made any move to pronounce anything.

"Hey," Seonghwa pulls you to a table, handing you a drink. "You look stunned." He chuckles.

"Of course I will be," You say through gritted teeth, smiling sarcastically. "What the hell am I even supposed to do here?"

"You're the star of the event, actually."

"The what?" You dramatically sigh, having enough of his bullshit. Fine he looked gorgeous, with his hair done immaculately and his outfit god made for him, but you were done with his surprises.

He pulls out a paper and a pen, softly smiling at you. You realize that he wasn't joking, making you furrow your brows.

"What's this?" Before you focus on the paper, he takes your shoulder and makes you look at him. He notices a stray hair and tucks it behind your ear, smiling once again.

"There is absolutely no pressure in this, y/n. If you don't agree, this gathering will just be a gathering. We'll act like nothing happened and you'll continue to be my secretary for as long as you want, get paid as much as you want."

You see where this is going, making you sigh.

"But if you agree, I will stand up for you among these people to announce that I have seen one of the best works I have seen my entire life, coming to collaborate with Park Enchante to produce the best works in the industry. How does that sound?"

You stare right at him, as if he just said the most ridiculous ment in the whole of your existence. You had not seen this part coming. You thought it would only be a you and Seonghwa talk, but he had other plans.

At the same time, although you have already decided only this morning, being questioned like this wasn't part of your plan. You still had your doubts, your insecurities, your overthinking to even come up with a final answer.

And as if Seonghwa read your mind, "I'll be here to help you. We can help each other grow, and I can offer you the free of contract. You can stop whenever you like, and I will support whatever decision you make."

You stayed quiet, tears forming once again. Before it even falls, Seonghwa had already wiped them off your eyes, and pulled you in for a hug.

"You can leave if you want. We will forget this ever happened." Seonghwa's words made you shake your head, pulling back to face him. When you smile, the heaviness on your chest leaves.

"Are you sure this is without pressure? You just told me I'm the star of the event," You squint your eyes at him, making him chuckle.

"Okay, maybe with a bit of pressure. With your talent, I don't want it to either go to waste or to be of another brand's hands," The thought made him shiver, as you let out a hearty laugh.

With a breath, you pick the pen up and sign both copies of paper, making Seonghwa exclaim exaggeratedly and punch the air, earning a lot of weird stares.

"Yes! Finally, everyone!" He shouts, holding the paper in his hand and leaving the other copy in the table. He gives you a tight hug before leaving to the stage, tapping the mic to finally announce you as an official creative and still secretary.

While everyone is still in doubt, Seonghwa goes on a rave about how amazing your works he discovered are, emphasizing that you only did it on your breaks.

Embarrassed, you hang your head low and apologized for the commotion he's causing, glaring at him and mouthing for him to come down.

Making his way to you, he was stopped by a few directives for a small talk about the announcement and honestly, you couldn't care less about what others say. Seonghwa believes in you, the Park himself in Park Enchante. What could others hold against you?

You sigh in relief as the other copy of paper you signed caught your attention, scanning through the pages of paper until you're in the last.

This contract is only for the purposes of having an agreement, but the client is of free-employment role.

The client's status will be (1) Direct Secretary of the President of Park Enchante; (2) Creative Fashion Designer and Stylist of Park Enchante.

And optionally, (3) To be Park Enchante's President's personal company for as long as the client wants.

The client's assistance over the last two months has been much appreciated by Park Enchante's president. The president owes the client tremendous gratitude since the president recognized and valued even the modest efforts the client made over the previous two months.

By signing this page additionally, the client grants Park Enchante's president into their personal life in return for their services.

You scoff at the amount of ridicule the 'contract' was oozing of, but at the same time, it made your heart skip a beat.

"Ridiculously childish," You mumble, yet the smile can't be wiped off your face.

"Oh, you read it," Seonghwa's smile falters a bit, seeing how you reacted to it. "You don't have to mind that, you know,"

"Isn't this abuse of power?" You shake your head, waving the paper in front of him.

"Hey, it says there optionally," Seonghwa pouts, "As long as you signed the first page as our creatives, everything's good," Yet he can't help feel his heart break a bit at the thought that slipped his mind- Wooyoung. "It's my company, my contract, I can alter it as much as I want," Seonghwa mumbles like a little kid talking back.

You scoff at his words, "Ah, so you don't want it signed?" You raise your eyebrows, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. "I was more than willing to let you in my personal life though," You shake your head, clicking your tongue. "What do I do with this copy, then? It's already signed,"

You see the process of Seonghwa getting bewildered, to his eyes shining bright as it beamed at you, realizing what you had just said as his smile grows wider than it already was a while ago.

"Really?" Despite the excitement and the shock, his voice was sweet and soft. Delicate, as he steps closer to you and cups your cheeks.

"Really, Seonghwa." You mumble, smiling at him. You stretch your hand out to ask for the other copy, but he only pulls it and engulfs you in a warm, tight hug.

"I've been holding my feelings off for so long," He whispers, breath hitting your neck, "Now we're even bonded through paper,"

"I will stay to company you to my deathbed, Seonghwa." You chuckle, still finding it ridiculous at how you find the contract still ridiculously sweet at the same time. "But please, do not ever do that again. If you're going to ask me out, ask me out like how a normal person will,"

"What's a Seonghwa if it wasn't for my self-made ideas?"

permanent taglist: @sunlightwoo

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