#she’s my everything. I’ll die for her a million times

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Random thought:

You and August Walker sneaking out of a work party to get some time in his private office.

Zombie

Well, Zombie, I'll tell you what I think would happen...

Title: Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Warnings: (responsible) alcohol consumption, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

When the elevator dings and the doors open, he holds out an arm to let you enter first. As you step inside, you catch the eye of your coworker, who is making an obscene gesture with her hands. You can’t exactly blame her. You did just get into an elevator with the damn CEO of Walker Logistics LLC.

That’s right. You and August Walker are in an elevator on the way to his private office to speak more discreetly. 

A million different things went through your mind when he first asked you to step away to his office, and it showed on your face when you first stuttered through an excuse to stay at the party. 

“Tell you what, why don’t we just continue our conversation about your ideas over better booze than what they have down here? I’ll behave as long as you do,” he offers, his sonorous baritone washing over you like a warm bath.

It was more than easy to agree with him; he just had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.

As the elevator lifts, August leans against the left wall while you stand in the center. You try to maintain the silence that is only interrupted as the floor indicator dings every few seconds. The anxiety of feeling like you have to perform is strong, and you want to come up with something that he will find interesting.

But all you can come up with is, “You know, you can’t say happiness without saying penis.” 

August’s head whips to you so fast, you think his neck may have broken. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I spout useless trivia. It’s the worst superpower,” you admit, hoping he would let it go.

“Sex is ten times more effective than Valium. So, maybe we shouldn’t be so coy,” he hums, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand next to you when the elevator stops.

When the doors open, you are greeted with quite a sight. The entirety of the top floor is closed off by walls, except for his secretary’s desk, which sits just outside double doors. 

You are so surprised by the fact that you are in the CEO’s space that you just gawk at everything while staying in the elevator. It’s only when August stops the doors from closing on you that you close your mouth and follow him to the doors to his office.

Once they open, you’re greeted with a modern office space with two conference rooms around the left and right corners. His L-shaped desk sits in the center of the room, and the polished ebony wood stain reflects the lights of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back wall. A leather sofa and armchair set that seems rather inviting fills the carpeted area in front of the mini-bar. You spy the bookshelves that line the right and left walls and wonder to yourself if he’s even read half of them.

Walking around the desk, your feet carry you to the right bookcase. You read the titles of book after book about business and the economy. How fucking boring!

From his spot at the mini-bar, August gets your attention. “So, what would the lady like to drink while she snoops?”

“I’m not snooping. Just looking,” you advise, your fingers swiping the various spines as you walk toward him. “And I would love some bourbon if you have it. No ice.”

“I think I’ll join you,” he remarks, retrieving two lowball glasses and a decanter of the amber liquid. Pouring about two fingers into one glass and then the other. He takes both glasses and places them on the glass coffee table that sits between the sofa and the two comfy chairs. He picks up his drink and turns to you. “What shall we toast to?”

The anxiety running through you is replaced by lust as you join him on the couch, close enough to feel his body heat. Pheromones must be wafting in the air because he smells like sex on legs. You bend forward to pick up your bourbon, and the top of your dress reveals some cleavage. Out of the corner of your eye, you see August tilt his head as he sneaks a peek.

“To not being coy,” you insist, offering your raised glass.

August clinks his glass with yours and says, “To not being coy.”

You both take a sip and when you put your drink down after a sizable gulp, August mirrors you and sits back against the couch. You turn, and he is watching you with hungry eyes. Now or never, you think to yourself.

Leaning in, you kiss the smirk right off his face. His soft, pink lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you allow him entry and massage his tongue with yours as you move to his lap. His hands caress your thighs before sliding up your leg to land on your hips. You know what he is after, so you start to rock your hips and are awarded with a deep rumble of a groan from August.

With his hands grabbing onto your ass, you grow bold and swivel your hips once, then twice. As August bucks up into you, you whimper, and he breaks the kiss. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches up your dress and stops when his fingertips touch your panties.

“May I take these off?” he asks, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looks up at you.

“Fuck, yes,” you yelp, your desire becoming too much to handle.

With your permission, he pulls them down your legs as far as they will go with you kneeling in his lap. Positioning you to lay back on the couch, he removes them completely, then dives in between your legs with his hands wrapped around your thighs to hold you close. 

He kisses your inner thighs before focusing on your wet pussy. To say he must have been starving for you is an understatement. The way he licks from your hole to your swollen nub was just this side of overwhelming. Swirling his tongue around your pearl, he waits until you begin to buck your hips to take your clit into his mouth.

Your hands go to his hair, clutching his chestnut locks as he sucks your soul out of your body. You’re near tears when he slowly inserts a finger between your folds. You barely hold yourself together as he strokes your inner walls, paying attention to the inner bundle of nerves that drives you wild.

Inserting another finger, he picks up his speed while massaging your G-spot. Listening to your body, he knows that you are on the very edge. One wrong move, and he could ruin it completely. 

But, lucky for you, he knows what he is doing.

He lets your clit slip past his lips, changing his tactic. Flicking his tongue up and down on your bud while adding a third finger to stretch you out, he puts on a master class at foreplay. Within moments, the hold you have on your faculties is all but forgotten as you are brought to orgasm. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he continues to play with your sweet spot. The noise of your sopping hole echoes in the office.

“That’s it; let it go. Such a good girl for me. So fucking delicious, too,” he praises, talking you through it. “You sound so fucking sexy right now.”

When you come down from your high, August is right there to kiss away the tear that escapes your eye as he caresses you. Your entire body is afire with sensations. His hands on you feel feather-soft. Looking up into his face, you can’t help but bring him down to kiss him. The kiss starts slow, but as it continues, tongues and teeth make an appearance. He nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat. 

He breaks the kiss again to kiss and nip at your jaw and neck. You wrap a leg around his waist, shoving your hand between you to stroke him through his slacks. The groan from him at the contact radiates through you. You can tell he has a monster under those clothes, and you want it.

Echoing his politeness from earlier, you speak up, “May I?”

“Please,” he gushes, sitting on his heels to give you better access.

You unzip and unbutton him, reaching inside to take him out. You thank him silently for prepping you with three fingers, because damn. The uncut snake in his pants is heavy in your hands. While you want nothing more than to have it inside you, you would also love to gag on it. August’s hand under your chin lifts your face until your eyes meet.

“As much as I would love your pretty lips around me, I need to be inside you,” he implores, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “I promise you can choke on it later.”

You gasp as he removes your hand from his dick and pushes you slightly to lay back down. He throws your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with your core, before pushing in slowly. He takes his time, letting you get used to being so filled and allowing him to adapt to your tight heat.

Folding you into yourself, he retracts his hips and thrusts forward. You groan in unison. Pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, he slams back in, kissing your cervix with his cockhead. He picks up the speed, and you can hear how fucking wet you are. The sloshy slaps of flesh on flesh are enough to have you close to orgasm already.

The entire room smells like sex, and it is intoxicating. Your gasps and whines as he fucks you only spur him on to help you chase after your climax. Parting your legs, he grips your thighs, fucking into you harder and faster. The look of determination on his face has you reaching down to play with your sensitive clit.

He swats your hand away in favor of using his fingers to make you cum around him. It happens quicker than you planned, a testament to his expertise. He fucks you through your release, your overworked pussy leaving cream all over his cock. He slows down to a more intimate pace as you come back to yourself.

You tangle a hand in his messy curls and pull him down to kiss you. With your hand on his hip, you urge him to move again. He kisses you deeper as his hips pick up the pace fucking you. You swallow every grunt and grumble from his thrusts. When his lips part from yours, you see the want in his eyes. You know he’s close by the way his hips stutter and his dick twitches.

Tightening your legs around his waist, you push your heel into his ass, and he gets the hint. 

“You want my cum? Ugh, fuck, I’m so close. Shit! Argh, fuck,” he gasps, his cock spasming as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you with his face in your neck, and you rub his back while he comes down.

Once his softening length slips from you, he grunts and picks himself up to sit back on his heels. He watches as his cum leaks out of you and licks his lips. He gets up and tucks himself away before motioning for you to stay right where you are. He grabs a towel from the mini-bar, coming back to clean up his mess from between your legs. He tosses the towel on the coffee table and picks up his drink to take a sip.

“I wasn’t lying earlier, you know,” he discloses, moving to sit down when you pull yourself into a seated position.

“Huh?” you ask, wracking your brain to find out what he’s talking about.

“I still want to hear your ideas on how to expand our market reach. I mean, you don’t even work in our marketing department, and your ideas have my attention,” he praises, his voice sincere in tone.

“I do have a few ideas on how the company can grow,” you beam, happy to be noticed. “But I think I’d like to discuss that first thing on Monday. Right now, I’d rather enjoy this bourbon and spend time not talking about work. If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he affirms, sipping his drink before smiling at you. “I am actually looking forward to Monday for a change. But before then, would you let me take you to dinner? I promise there will be no work talk.”

You look into your glass, swirling the amber liquid while you think about it for all of three seconds. “I’ll let you take me to dinner on one condition,” you advise, a smirk playing on your lips.

“And what would that be?” he asks, his arm going to the back of the couch.

“You let me choke on it before tonight is over,” you flirt, holding in a giggle.

The way his eyes darken is a thing of beauty. He lowers his drink from his lips and says, “Fuck, where did that coy little thing go? I’m not complaining, by the way. I’ll make sure you get a taste; don’t you worry.” 

You suddenly feel very warm, and you can’t believe this man is real. You wonder how his words can make you want nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe. You put down your glass after downing the last bit in one go. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now, you think to yourself.

August puts down his glass and leans back. You crawl into his lap again, a knee on either side of his hips. Entwining a hand in his hair, you lean forward and capture his lips again. This time, the kiss is slow and sensual. Your tongue dances with his until your lips touch again. Nipping at his bottom lip elicits a whimper from him that is music to your ears.

His hands move to your ass, gripping the globes as if his life depended on it. When one hand leaves, you only miss it for a second before it lands back on your cheek with a slap. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.

He’s got you right where he wants you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: This story was super fun to write. I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁If your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it

Gloria Grahame (It's a wonderful life, Oklahoma, Human desire, The Cobweb)—I'm just going to link to this Film Comment article by Donald Chase, who makes the argument more eloquently than I can, although I think Grahame's Ado Annie is more than just the 'flirtatious goofus' he offhandedly describes her as. Between that role and Violet Bick in 'It's a Wonderful Life" she's played two of cinemas best irrepressibly horny ladies. That would be legacy enough for our hot vintage queen, but she is also GLORIOUS in 'In a Lonely Place' and consistently pulls focus from her co-star Humphrey Bogart, famously one of the most charismatic leading men of his day. I think she had even more, and hotter, chemistry with him than he ever had with Lauren Bacall, which is saying a lot I know. Anyway, your honor I love her and I want her to win it all.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lauren Bacall:

"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."

"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."

"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."

"HER VOICE. Like yeah, she was absolutely stunning but oh my god, I'm obsessed with her voice"

"A gorgeous lady inside and out. One half of an absolute power couple with Humphrey Bogart, tended to him and other actors suffering from malaria whilst filming the African Queen, generally radiated grace and poise throughout her life. Also her last role was in Family Guy so she needs justice for that"

"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."

"She was stunning. Tall and beautiful with a distinctive voice and able to carry her own in a male dominated field. She won the heart of millions, including one of Hollywood's most iconic leading men, Humphrey Bogart. Their story was the stuff of legends, and the chemistry between them was apparent in the multiple films they started in together. She personified the film noir dame and yet she also adapted as Hollywood changed. Her career spanned decades, and she was honored multiple times."

Gloria Grahame:

Absolute Hollywood vamp, who had a fine comedic bone. Died far too young and was depicted by Annette Bening in the stellar Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool

I’ve heard she’s horrendously miscast in Oklahoma (I have not seen it), so if you’re coming in with that framework PLEASE set that aside because gods does this woman shine in a NOIR!! She plays the battered woman more than a full on fatale, but she manages to bring interesting nuance to characters who are written as mere sultry divergences! Also: she’s sultry and an EXCELLENT divergence

She could do sexy, sweet and sinister in the same breath. She was crazy talented and had that lisp that melts me every time.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ peanut butter & tears ♡

♡ Pairing: idol!boyfriend!minho! x fem!reader

♡ Summary: A week after Minho goes public with your relationship, a ghost from your past posts a stream of tweets on social media revealing your darkest secrets to millions and, more importantly, your boyfriend.

♡ Genre: angst/fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: mention of sex, brief discussion of scars/stretchmarks/self harm/people being assholes on the internet (none of it's graphic but still important to warn you of, my loves)

♡ A/N: I love and appreciate @aprilskillstory not only for submitting this but for being super patient while I wrote it and for trusting me to write it at all. I named this after a DPR Ian song btw. If you haven't heard it, it's magical.

This is a nightmare...

Actually, it’s much worse than that. Nightmares you wake up from. This is real life. No alarm clock will ring to snap you out of it. This is happening. Sinking further down into the lukewarm water of your bubble bath, you look on helplessly as your phone lights up with notifications. Every few seconds the number in the top right corner of a half dozen apps doubles, triples in some cases. 

Minho’s decision to go public with your relationship had initially gone much nicer than you anticipated. A week had passed with minimal backlash and what you did receive had begun to die down before the stream of tweets that have you preferring to prune than to crawl out of this tub and face him.

There's no telling who would have posted them. Tweet after tweet detailing things that you’ve wanted with everything in you to open up to Minho about. You’ve tried a million times and a million times your admissions have gotten caught in your throat, jagged and barbed, refusing to budge.

But someone dragged them out and your soul along with them, putting your secrets on display for a merciless crowd set on tearing you away from their beloved Minho. 

“Trauma like that can’t make her a stable girlfriend.”

“Self harm scars? No wonder she’s always covered up in pics…” 

“Our Lino deserves better.”

“She’s dated girls too? Do you think he knew?”

“If Minho knew he wouldn’t be with her.” 

You scroll through reply after reply until your screen’s too wet for your touch to register. You’re startled by the sound of Minho shouting, his voice muffled through the thick walls of your apartment but his rage is unmistakable. Placing your phone on the chair by the bathtub, you hop out before courage abandons you.

“It’s gonna be okay” you repeat to yourself, wrapping a towel around you to form a lilac safety blanket, “Everything’s gonna be okay. Just breathe.” Footsteps descend down the hall and you breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow breaths full of intent like the pink haired girl in the yoga pants on Youtube instructed you to do.

“You’re the only big brother I have. Just, please, don’t let them come here” Minho begs, standing in the doorway with his phone to his ear, “I’ll come after. I promise. Thank you.” He hangs up, turning to you, his gaze transforming you into stone like one of the foolish men who dared to lay eyes on Medusa. The rise and fall of your chest ceases almost to the point of lifelessness.

“Minho, I can explain…” He folds an arm across his chest, nervously tapping his phone against his temple, “That you hid things from me?” “I didn’t hide anything. At least, not on purpose. I didn't mean to do it.” “Then what did you mean to do? Hmm? You know what I do for work. What were you thinking?” “Fuck, I don’t know” you weep, sitting on the edge of the tub.

You tilt your head back, hoping to send the tears rolling back to where they came from but it’s no use. They only pool in your eyes, clouding your vision so that the only thing you see as Minho approaches is the distorted silhouette of his figure. “I wanted to tell you, I did, but I was afraid it’d be too much at once. That you’d hate me like other guys in the past have.”

You’re rambling, breathing heavily, blindly reaching for tissues. Minho leans your head forward, resting your left cheek on his stomach while he strokes the other side of your face, soothing your anxiousness.  “Hate you? Hate…you?” he asks, more offended by your statement than you expect, “I need you to look at me.” Sniffling, you turn to look up at him and he’s…smiling?

“I love you. Nothing could ever make me hate you. I just wish you’d come to me so I could've protected you. If I had known…” “Wait, you’re not mad?” “At what?” “That I’ve, you know, dated women before.” Minho shrugs, “Jisung’s basically my last resort if we break up so, uh, no.” “But my scars and my stretch marks…” Kissing you on the forehead, he backs away and begins to take his shirt off.

“When you asked me to have sex with the lights out did I ever argue?” For the first time since you met, it sets in that he had, in fact, never questioned why you never wanted the lights on. Come to think of it, you usually didn’t need to ask for them to be off. They already were. Minho tosses his shirt to the ground, running his fingers along the scar that marks his abdomen, “I was afraid you wouldn’t like mine either.”

“Wouldn’t like it?” you scoff, unable to fathom how you’d ever find him anything short of beautiful, “It’s a part of you. I love anything that’s a part of you.” Minho sits down beside you, delighting in seeing you even partially uncovered for the first time, “The feeling’s mutual.” The sound of a vibrating phone grabs your attention. You glance over at the chair. It’s not yours.

Minho digs his phone out of his pocket, groaning as he scrolls through text messages. “Shit, I have to go do damage control” he huffs, jumping up to toss his shirt back on, “But when I come back we have to talk. I have questions about the scars if you’re comfortable? Just to make sure you’re okay.” “Uh, yeah, sure that’s okay. I’ll make us some food for when you get back and you can ask me whatever.” 

His phone vibrates again, this time it’s a call. “What?” he whines, “I’m on my way. No, I really am. I’m in the car right now. Oh no, you’re breaking up. Oh…” Minho’s phone hits the bath water with a splash, sending bubbles cascading down the walls. “Oops,” he gasps, knowing very well it wasn’t an accident.

Minho gives you a dozen more kisses on your lips, on your forehead, on your cheeks, before he’s dashing around the apartment searching for his keys. “And stay off of social media unless you plan to make a list of everyone who says something bad so I can fight them! Love you!” he shouts on the way out the front door. “Love you too!” you shout back before it closes.

Left alone in the silence of the aftermath, you nibble at your bottom lip, nervous at having finally found someone this accepting but beyond happy that he exists. That he’s yours. A phone vibrates again. Your phone. Picking it up you see that it’s a call from someone you haven’t spoken to in a while. No doubt with questions about what’s been going on. You stare at it for a moment, contemplating answering but then...

“Oops” you gasp, letting your phone slip into a watery grave beside Minho’s, “Tragic.”

[wnobin]

BIT BY BIT… 💭 anton lee socmed! au

pairing: college student! anton x campus crush! reader

genre: college! au, social media! au with written portions, slow burn, pining, strangers to friends to lovers.

series synopsis: in which the quiet girl in anton’s language class who seems to never sit with anyone catches his attention. anton makes it his mission to get closer to her bit by bit and break down her walls. the only issue? she’s the last to arrive and first to leave, never allowing anton the chance to approach her.

series masterlist | 09: eunseok’s toothbrush

chaewon was currently dragging you by your ear, your whines echoing in the empty corridors as eunchae rubbed her eyes, still tired from the events of last night. events, which consisted of the two of you finishing a whole container of melatonin gummies while watching monsters inc. “it’s literally 1pm and practice starts at 12! it’s your first time meeting the team and you’re gonna start off with a bad impression?”

“i already know eunseok, sungchan and shotaro so it’s not exactly my first time, is it?” you held your ear that was stinging with pain when chaewon finally let go of it, who was now choosing to now drag you and eunchae by your hands into the gymnasium. the three of you were met by the sight of the team members resting by the bleachers and downing their waters, but what caught your eye was your brother and his roommate wrestling on the ground while someone else was videoing it. “what was that about us leaving a bad impression on… them?”

“oh god, not again. y/n, can you grab your brother, i’ll get the other one.”

“how long have you been using my toothbrush?!”

“too long to remember!”

holding in your laughter, you grabbed eunseok by his shoulders and mustered all the strength you had to pry him away from sungchan, who was being held back by chaewon telling shotaro to put his phone down and help her.

“were you losing? seriously, eunseok?”

anton wasn’t paying attention to the fight that was happening in front of him, used to the sight of the two roommates bickering and eventually making up after ten minutes. until he heard a familiar voice, a voice he only ever heard during japanese 101. his head immediately snapped up, eyes no longer glued to his phone screen and instead watching a whining eunseok push your hands away while you laughed. “c’mon y/n, he was using my toothbrush! for god knows how long! let me beat him up!”

seunghan lifted his head at the same time, recognising your voice and elbowing anton’s side excitedly. the younger male simply watched the sight in silence, mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

oh my god. what are you doing here? are you dating eunseok? how do you know eunseok? you’re the new team manager and the captain’s girlfriend? oh god.

a million thoughts raced through anton’s mind, blocking out the sound of chaewon scolding the two roommates for fighting each other and also shotaro for filming and not stopping it. all he could focus on was how wide you were smiling, smiling at eunseok and sungchan.

“anton? hello, earth to anton?” sohee waved his hands in front of anton’s face, bringing him back to reality, the rest of his team going over to chaewon who was about to introduce the new team managers. as much as he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, anton had to act like everything was fine and took a deep breath before joining the rest of his friends.

“as i told you guys, you’ll be getting not one, but two team managers that’ll help you guys out after i graduate. this is eunchae, a first year majoring in early childhood education,” the shorter girl gave a lazy wave to the team, anton recognised her from some of his classes, but they had never interacted before. he turned to look at sohee who had excitedly greeted her, raising an eyebrow to which sohee simply mouthed the word ‘spanish’. “and this one over here is y/n, a first year majoring in nursing so she’ll be the one taking care of you guys when you get injured.”

“she’s also our captain’s little sister, so do be nice to her!”

eunseok’s little sister? anton couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but it didn’t sound all that unbelievable. you and eunseok were both rather tall, and the more he looked at you, he could see the resemblance between you two. same eyebrows and same nose.

you waved at the team but you were looking in anton’s direction, your eyes on him. at this point, his mind had gone blank and he was just absentmindedly waving back at you with the most dazed look on his face. “do you know anton?” eunseok asked, noticing the way you only looked at the youngest in the team. “yeah, we’re in the same japanese class.”

“japanese class? doesn’t anton have a cr—“

before sungchan could finish his sentence, wonbin clasped a hand over his mouth and dragged him away from the conversation, saying they had to go to the bathroom, before he revealed anton’s secret. seunghan who was trying to hold in his snickers eventually couldn’t hold it back anymore, erupting in laughter alongside sohee who was losing it too. everyone else seemed equally as confused as to why sungchan was dragged away mid-sentence and why seunghan and sohee were close to tears while anton looked like his soul just left his body.

he wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or not that you were his sister, and not his girlfriend. but one thing that he was thankful for was the fact that both you and your brother were just as oblivious as each other.

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[usedpidemo]

And scene ((G)I-dle Minnie)

“Oh my God.”

No other words could adequately describe what happened to you. It was everything but a blur, things that could easily form into lifelong traumas. Almost everything you went through over the past few days might as well be taken straight out of a movie.

So where do you start?

An encounter with the local mafia that results in your fingers almost getting cut off, rescuing a Thai princess whose father was in cahoots with said criminal organization—the reason why she’s being held hostage as leverage—then escaping with her in a car and being pursued across the country by a helicopter and countless vehicles sent by the syndicate. 

You should really be dead by now. Four times over. 

Countless bruises, and wounds from bullets, blades, and everything that is designed to kill a man—any of these alone would be enough to permanently break any person, and you’re no athlete or assassin; you’re just a regular guy on what you thought was a promising vacation. It’s a miracle that you’re still breathing, more so standing, running on your feet towards the car you’ve taken refuge in, now on its roof and in flames.

Forget about the millions you’ve also stolen from the mafia; you’re thankful to be alive.

Unfortunately, your miraculous plot armor doesn’t seem to have passed on to the princess. At a glance, she appears to have only minor cuts and bruises like yours, but she’s laying on the tarmac, completely unconscious and unresponsive.

“Princess! Princess!” You shout, turn her face up and slap her cheek, checking for any signs of life. Blood trickles down her dirty face from her forehead, her lips, and her nose. You lean against her chest and press a thumb on her wrist, desperately seeking for a pulse. 

Not a single response, not a single sign. She’s as good as dead. 

Though you barely knew the woman, in the quiet moments when you weren’t dreading your surroundings, you grew feelings for her. Her beauty was befitting of her royal title, and despite her nobility, she never really thought much of it other than a personal burden. She only wanted to live a normal life, and you sympathized with her plight, even though you were merely a tourist passing through, unfamiliar with her customs and culture.

She didn’t deserve to die because of other people’s stupidity and recklessness, including yours.

You couldn’t bear to leave her alone. The survivor’s guilt hurts you more than anything that could have physically killed you. Sure, her family might not hold you responsible for their daughter’s death, but considering you ran off with her and traveled the entire country to find a safe haven, you might as well be an accomplice in their eyes. If not them, the media will.

You wanted to be by her side for as long as you could, praying for a miracle, but your instincts tell you to keep moving, to keep fighting.

You haven’t eaten anything for two days, and there’s nothing nearby that remotely resembles human civilization for miles. The sun has begun setting down, and soon enough, you’ll be prey to ferocious animals and the ruthless cold night. Despite this, you still have no intention to leave her. You’re just hoping the rescue promised by the national defense reaches you before it’s too late.

Just then, before you get up, you feel a tug on your arm. You turn and find the princess’ hand clinging to yours. She’s extremely weak, barely able to open her eyes, but she’s alive. Her little smile is more than enough of a reassurance that everything is going to be fine.

As much as you want to scream with joy, you’re far too overwhelmed with emotion, and all you can do is cry. Leaning close to her, you plant a gentle kiss on her chin and put her in a tight embrace.

“You’re—you’re—”

“Yeah,” she says, very faintly. She tries to widen her smile, but can’t. She doesn’t have to; she’s already done more than enough. “I’ll be okay.”

Right then and there, you give her a kiss you’ve been holding on for so long, all the pent-up feelings poured into your lips. A smooch so powerful, it can restore her life. A true love’s kiss, you could say. With the little strength she has, the princess gives in, reciprocating your love in kind, parting her lips. Both of you feel each other’s warmth with the setting sun shining down on you.

It couldn’t have been a more hopeful ending.

—————

“And cut!” A man’s rough voice echoes from the distance. That man isn’t really there, but he’s actually there, deliberating the action, fabricating everything up.

See, there was never any rescue, there was no criminal organization, and there was no damsel in distress. You were never really in danger all along.

You’re not really on vacation. You’ve been tirelessly working, in fact, in the confines of a film studio disguised as your ‘vacation.’  The princess you’ve been falling for is merely a co-worker, a colleague. It’s nothing but superficial chemistry to add some authenticity to an otherwise absurd but generic action movie plot. 

You draw your lips away from the kiss, unknowingly keeping up the act with a light smile and blush on the ‘princess.’ She mirrors your sentiment, flashes a light grin back. Whether or not there’s some realism between you is up to the viewer, but at the very least the camera makes you two look believable. You can’t edit or animate chemistry like that.

“Great job everyone! That’s a wrap!” says the director, pulling up from his seat to laud you and gesturing to the other staff to stand in front of the cameras. Today’s the last day of filming for your next film, an action-comedy romance thriller with you as the lead. It’s a lot to take in at first, knowing that this is your first principal part in a high budget film after a string of acclaimed indies and even generating some awards buzz along the way, but you knew you had to take the jump and get your name out there beyond a niche of Letterboxd and Twitter film geeks.

As for your co-star, Kim Minnie, she couldn’t have had a more different career trajectory than yours. She was a child actress who’s path to box office stardom couldn’t be any straighter, but her momentum stagnated with a series of commercial and critically panned mid-budget romcoms. She needed a brand reinvention more than ever, and this was her first move in getting her star back on the rise. 

As promising of a script as it looked, and even with a respectable director and crew handling, nothing is guaranteed for both of you. There’s so many ways the final product can end up: a critical and commercial success, an absolute disaster, a middling picture that will be completely forgotten after opening weekend, a cult classic that will only blossom years—decades even—after the initial release; the list goes on and on. 

At least the bag is guaranteed. The studio threw you millions to star in their blockbuster, even when you have no prior hit or prestigious award to your name. Either a sign of the studio seeing star potential or a big red flag, casting an unknown, and knowing who was supposed to be in their initial casting before you stepped in, it’s safer to assume the latter. Either way, you’re getting paid, and you always have the indie circuit to fall back on, should the worst come to pass.

After a set of group photographs for the behind-the-scenes reel, it’s time for you to move past this project and onto the next one. You don’t really think much of the experience, apart from the overall kindness of the staff and professionalism of your co-stars, some of which you’ll likely work with again, and others you’ll never see again after today. Of course, there’s the press tour, but you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

—————

It isn’t until the next hour that you’re finally able to drop the act and become yourself again. Alone in your designated waiting room, having cleaned up your rather uncomfortable makeup and in your casual wear, you hear a knock on the door right as you’re preparing to leave. Putting on your shirt, you walk up and open it to a staff member with a box in her hand.

“Miss Kim sent me to give this to you,” says the assistant, holding out the wrapped gift in front of you, which you gladly accept.

“Thanks!” you say, enthused, smiling back at the crew member. “Tell her I sent my regards.”

“Of course, she’d be delighted to hear that. See you!” She replies before quickly turning away as you close the door.

You immediately unwrap and peel off the box that Minnie gave you, presumably a farewell gift, knowing that this was your last day together. You heard rumors of her kindness toward the staff and fellow co-stars in the past, and this confirms her great reputation as a giver and substantiates practically every story and excerpt. 

So you open the box and find a new expensive watch inside, completely untouched with a tiny note attached to it.

> To my knight in shining armor

> Love, Kim Minnie

You don’t realize it, but as you finish reading the brief letter, you’re smiling widely, giddy like a child growing feelings toward their school crush. Perhaps there is a little more authenticity in the role than you initially brought, and a little more relatability with your character, falling in love with a princess like her. 

Reality then hits hard. You’ll likely never see her again, as much as you want to do more films with her. She has a different preference in projects compared to yours, and your career trajectories couldn’t be any more different. Of course, that can easily change over time, and one day she chooses to become an indie darling like you, the same way you built up your name in the first place, but that’s as likely as a sequel to this picture getting greenlit. 

Nevertheless, you were now motivated to see her one last time before leaving it all behind for good. 

So you make your way to Minnie’s personal dressing room to knock. The door doesn’t open, neither does any sound echo from the inside. She probably left already, you assume, but the lights are still on in there after noticing the floor. You try again, yet the response remains the same: there isn’t any. There’s still staff roaming the halls doing cleanup, so you can’t make your presence obvious by shouting her name.

After about five minutes, you contemplate leaving, but decide to wait a little more. Eventually, you notice that her door appears to be unlocked. She’s still there; there’s hope. Out of morbid curiosity, you decide to take a peek. Quiet as a mouse, you gently turn the knob without generating a sound, only to find something blinding.

When you peek your eyes inside, you find Minnie shuffling back and forth—naked. It takes every muscle and nerve in your body not to slam that door shut and make your presence known. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, you close the door. Thankfully, the staff nearby seem to have completed their jobs or conveniently decided to clean elsewhere; you choose to believe in the latter.

Your better judgment tells you to walk away now, that you can still get some closure later on. There’s still the press tour for you to meet her again, and you can always choose projects that also happen to include her. No need for you to get involved in an unnecessary scandal just because.

Despite that, you knew you wanted to see her again, just not like this. But after seeing a tiny glimpse, you had no intention to leave so soon. You wanted more.

So you quietly re-enter her room, your eyes peeking out to watch her dress, and it’s the sexiest thing your eyes ever laid upon. She’s no longer completely nude, having put on some panties since then, but you capture countless mental pictures of her sizable, shapely breasts before she puts on a lace bra. Her previously long blonde locks having turned raven, the former being a cover for her actual hair, flows down to her shoulders with a brush of her hand. Either way, she rocks both colors flawlessly. She radiates star power and charisma naturally on top of her charming, seductive face and well-toned body, and you wonder how her career would have turned out had she played more femme fatale characters. 

Her body was perfectly designed for them. In fact, everything about her was made for them.

Even when she’s doing nothing, pacing back and forth half-nude without a care in the world, she makes it look like the hottest thing ever. None of your previous co-stars made you feel this way, enamored and smitten with every little move like they’re deliberate and purposeful. If her goal was to seduce you, she certainly perfected it.

You’re so into her, indulging in the sight of Kim Minnie dressing up for you like your own private little show, that you’re left unaware of your body’s deeper intentions, pushing you a little further past that door, bargaining for more, until—

Thud!

With a sudden, echoed yelp, you throw yourself from the safety of heaven and into the fire. 

You crash into her dressing room, your cry echoing across the studio. No harness or body double can break your fall or save you now.

“Hey!” Minnie’s barely finished putting on her shirt when she rushes over to you, worried. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m good,” you say, grunting as you pick yourself off the ground, brushing off the dust off your clothes.

“Are you sure?” She softly brushes your hair, tilting your chin up so that your eyes meet, hers accompanied with a concerned frown. “What happened?”

“I—I came over to, um—say thanks for the gift watch.” you reply, nervous, uncertain of your chosen words. It’s a miracle enough that you’ve found a reasonable excuse as to why you’re even there to begin with.

“Ah yeah! Manager-nim sent me your regards, but it’s much nicer to hear it coming from your own voice. It’s been great filming with you.”

“Of course,” you say, grinning. “Same goes with you, too.”

Minnie draws her hands away from your face. “Yeah, I hope we can find a way to share the screen together again.” 

“Me too.” you reply, nodding in agreement, unable to avert your gaze from hers.

As soon as you stop talking, awkward silence fills the room almost instantaneously. Minnie’s nervous smile remains constant, anticipating a follow up like there’s another half to make it whole. She’s right in that you do have a few more things to admit, but as the saying goes: some things are better left unsaid.

Considering how you fawned over her minutes ago, this seems like the best option moving forward. Keep it all business. You know how this industry works, how these moments go, how one small move leads to another, and the ending is usually not a good one, even if the consequences aren’t immediate. In a line that takes promising careers and shreds them to nothing, you know better than to fall into the system. She likely knows, too.

“I’ll—” you turn around, pausing to glance back at her. This isn’t you, nervous and tense like it’s your first day on the job. “—be on my way now.”

She gives you a modest wave goodbye as you take a few steps forward, the door to your freedom inches away.

Then you stop. 

You don’t end up getting your freedom. You don’t really want it. In fact, you toss it aside, a mere afterthought. Against your better judgment, you’re going off script, and there’s no external voice commanding you to stop, and you have no intention to. Impulse brought you to this point, and you were about to reap the full benefits. It’s a high, not a low.

“Minnie.” You turn around towards her with eyes full of lust, and her name dripping from your lips like your personal serotonin. She raises a curious eyebrow, puzzled. 

“Hm? Something up? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She doesn’t look fazed when you start walking back toward her. It’s like she knows you have some unfinished business.

A soft peck on the lip. It isn’t practice for a future kiss scene; the kiss only happened at the very end, and in some twisted way, the script wrote itself.

“I think you’re really pretty.” Quickly retreating, you make it so obvious how head over heels you are for her—flushed cheeks, childish grin, and stilted body language. All that’s missing is some cheesy modern pop music or some overused slow 80s classic in the background. 

“I—I—”

“Yeah.” Your eyes are pleading, begging. “I kinda fell for you—no, I completely fell for you.”

She covers her lips with her hands, utterly in disbelief. Her cheeks are burning just as bright as yours. “Oh my.”

“Um, well you’re beautiful, and really kind, and—” You had many things to say to Minnie, most of which previously echoed by others, and there’s no substance behind them, apart from maybe the first point, and they’re not what you really want to confess. 

“Yeah, this isn’t gonna work.” She sees through the facade, but your awkwardness is genuine. Mostly. “It was cute though, I’ll give you that.”

“W-what do you mean?” Your eyes widen at the sudden twist.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I know that’s not what you wanted to say.” Her shy expressions are replaced by a confident, piercing smirk, her arms crossed close to her chest. “You think I’m hot, don’t you?”

“Yeah, no—actually yeah, I think you’re really hot,” you say, waving the white flag almost immediately. It was so obvious from the jump. One of the few times your ‘acting’ failed you. 

“And?” Minnie raises an eyebrow, confidently expecting an answer. Her presence is so striking, it swallows up whatever remaining confidence you had left. There’s really nowhere to hide or run.

“Well, I hope you wouldn’t be upset, but—” Gulp your throat. “I quietly peeked through the door as you dressed.”

“Knew it.” Minnie shakes her head, quietly giggling at points. “I knew something was up when the door was slightly opened.”

“Yeah, but—I’m really sorry! I really wanted to say thanks first! I didn’t mean to peek through the door on purpose.”

“Yeah, because you accidentally peeked through my door? Sure, I believe you.” she replies, mockingly. 

“Okay, but I couldn’t help it. You weren’t answering.” you say, tone deflated. 

“You couldn’t have waited a bit longer?” she lifts an eyebrow, gives you a wary glare. “Fucking pervert. You’re no better than the rest of them.”

“Five minutes is a long time.” you quietly mumble, pulling out the last of your pathetic excuses, but she’s clearly caught you red-handed.

“Yeah, fuck you. Only sorry cause you’re caught.” Her eyes sharpen and she shakes her head. “Fine. You should be happy I’m in quite a good mood today, so leave. I’ll pretend this never happened, but I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

You’re visibly distraught. You have no intention to walk, not when there’s a lot at stake, and who knows what she’s going to do afterward. Hell, even as early as tomorrow, your career may no longer exist.

“Minnie,” You say, gently, eyes having gone from wanting to pleading. She turns to you with a fierce glare, as if the mention of her name desecrates her entire being. A stare so piercing you impulsively look the other way. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Hm.” She scans your face. Soft, helpless, vulnerable. “And how will you do that?”

You take a deep breath, swallow hard. “Anything. Please don’t get me in trouble. No one else has to get involved.”

She pouts, runs the offer meticulously through her head, having all the leverage in this proposal. The negotiations delay to make sure all her terms are agreed upon. Footstep clatters echo from outside the room, but not a soul is aware or even tries to interfere with your little affair. 

“Okay, you say anything?” she asks, facing you, expression still cold.

You nod, still trembling.

“I only want one thing, then.” Minnie approaches you, each step of her heel a death bell being rung. Her eyes gaze at you, demanding your attention belong to her and her alone—and there were plenty of different parts about her that grabbed them. “You said you think I’m hot, right? Good news, I felt the same way about you—that was, until you pulled that little stunt, pervert.”

She says the last word like it’s a curse on your clean record, a reminder that will cling to you till you’re buried six feet under. 

Keeping her eyes locked on yours, she walks around you until a sofa is conveniently right behind her. She then walks backwards, her hand motioning you to follow her, to which you reluctantly oblige. Inches away from the couch, she stops you right in your tracks, rubs her palms down your shirt, sizing you up.

“You’re a good kisser, I’ll give you that,” she says, her modulated, assertive tone reduced to a faint whisper. “But I wanna know if you’re good at love scenes too.”

Despite your stature, you’ve never shot a sex scene. At best, it’s you and your on-screen partner making out before the camera pans out of view, leaving the rest for the viewer’s imagination. Now you have to do the real thing completely uncut.

There’s a huge price to fame, after all.

Minnie lifts her white crop over her head, granting you a much closer view of her cleavage. She tosses it aside before facing you again. Arousing of a sight it looks, you’re anxious. “Take your shirt off.”

You follow, your sweater joining hers on the opposite end of the room to be forgotten. She scans you again, your bare, well-built chest completely exposed to her, now completely clean of fake scratches and wounds. 

“Fuck, this is nice,” she comments, palming your chest. This isn’t the first time she’s seen you shirtless, but it’s in a completely different setting and context. “I wish we could have done this sooner. Oh well. Better now than never, I guess.”

Minnie plants a soft peck on your bicep, then on another, until she’s marked all your core points with her strawberry flavored lipstick. She nudges you a tiny bit closer to her, enough that you can feel your groin tense up against the hint of her heat. 

“Yeah, that’s it. You feel so hard for me. You want to fuck me so bad, don’t you?” Minnie wraps her arms over your neck, explores your back and squeezes flesh to claim. Her seductive teasing reaffirms your true intentions, even though you’re never going to openly admit them. At some point, you wonder as to what her definition of punishment means, but you brush the thought aside, especially when your blood rushes down from your head to your groin. 

She sneakily grabs you by your balls, tightening behind obstructive layers of fabric. Your erection can’t wait to spring free, lest you go home with conspicuously soiled pants. Grabbing a hold of your tent, her infectious lips continue to quietly shatter your eardrums. “I can already imagine this dick fucking my pussy so hard and so fast. Mmm, I bet you can actually make me cum.”

Had it been any other scenario besides this one, you’d have fired back a quip or two. Instead, you remain silent, rendered powerless under her commanding spell, reduced to a weak groaning shell of yourself.

“Too bad that will have to wait,” she suddenly blurts, pushing you away before retreating to the couch. Crossing her legs, she adds, “Let’s do a little trial run. Pleasure me without using your cock, then we might get somewhere. Sounds good?”

You sigh. Whether out of frustration of being blue balled or because of her terms is up for anyone’s interpretation. She lifts her eyebrows, looking at you intensely, smirking, reveling at your visible disappointment. 

“The producers are just down the hall, so unless you want to take it to court,” she comments, teasingly, instigating, sparking a fire in your gut. Footsteps echo, again proving her point. You don’t doubt her for a second, but it stings whenever you hear that stark reminder of your little mistake. You just wanted to get on with the act and move past it immediately.

Her eyes maintain an intense grip on you—smoldering—as you approach her and take her by the waist, watching as you take hold of her jeans and slide them down, pushing her gray panties along as extra baggage. Gracefully, she opts to give you a little mercy by kicking off her flats. Even when she seemingly does nothing, her eyes judge, take note of your serious, rather businesslike demeanor of undressing her. 

Her splayed pussy’s right in your view, but your petty contempt for her makes it less inviting.

“What are you waiting for?” dares Minnie, pointing down at her entrance, eyebrows raised and tauntingly smirking. 

You couldn’t be any more eager to wipe that confident smile off her face. 

Keeping the rule in mind, you hover atop her seat on the couch and drop an arm, burying your hand between her pink lips. Minnie winces as your fingers make first contact with her clit, drawing her heat. She appears visibly shaken, caught unawares by your touch, even when she expected it.

“O-oh, f-fuck—” she whines, shutting an eye, cheeks puffing as she tries to resist, to no avail. Her nails rake into your back, inviting you ever closer, slowly relinquishing control, a perfect time for you to claim as yours. 

The wet and warm sensation scalds, burns on your fingertips. You anticipated her to be wet, but not this soaked. Her pussy drags your digits further down like quicksand—nigh inescapable. Each little slap and touch creates a clap, a few raindrops that signal forthcoming rain. 

Propped only by your other arm resting on her shoulder, you indulge in her wetness, searching for her favorite spot, the gold mine. Her body trembles, slowly but certainly adjusting to your fingers, moans becoming thinner and airy, eyes gradually losing focus on you, absorbed in the pleasure rapidly building within her. Her hips slowly buck and fold, grind against your digits in an attempt to swallow them whole. 

“F-feels so good, f-fuck—” she whines, entangling her arm with yours, almost disrupting the euphoric moment when she drags you onto the couch with her. It’s a blessing in disguise, as you’re able to kick off your shoes and increase the tempo inside her. 

In that moment, she had forgotten her anger, only to be replaced by a renewed feeling of bliss.

Moaning against her temple, lips barely grazing her forehead, you whisper, “You’re so fucking wet, and I haven’t even put this dick in you yet.”

“Fuck off.” Minnie suddenly snaps, tone frantic, her body set alight by need and craving for more. Even with the little fight she displays, she’s clearly on the losing end, delaying the inevitable. It’s all the more clearer when her voice fades, strains with every passing word, and her plea betrays her. “P-please, keep going.”

You slip a second finger, watch as her legs clamp down as her body squirms tighter and tighter beneath her touch. By the way her legs tremble and writhe violently, you swear they’re melting into the couch. She grasps at straws to keep you controlled, to keep your tempo stable, to leave some breathing room, to no avail. Your digits continue to fuck her at an intense pace, to the point where the wet, squelching claps of her cunt echo along with her lewd moans.

“Yes. Need that.” She squirms beneath you, her hands no longer craving you, but on a different goal; she brings them around her back, unhooks her bra for you to toss them aside on her behalf. Afterward, she grabs you by the wrist and leads you directly to her breast, a generous reward for your efforts. 

When you hold her, it’s like rescuing a damsel in distress, saving her from her most wanton of desires by fueling yours. Every little touch, slap, and pinch of her naked body loosens her psyche and drives her wild.. From the most strained cry to the loudest scream, Minnie makes it clear just how amazing you feel to her, and her voice makes the sultriest sounds your ears are blessed to hear.

You can’t help but put such thought into words. 

“God, you have such a sexy voice when you moan,” you whisper, and it’s what appears to break her. 

Minnie lets out an ear-shattering shrill, her body convulsing as the pressure of your fingers finally pushes past a point beyond repair. Her legs lock tighter on your hand, as if they couldn’t be any more imprisoned, but they eventually loosen up and pave the way for her unannounced orgasm. 

She gushes. Like a broken faucet, she doesn’t stop leaking, passionately crying through her vivid climax. It’s a mixture of slick and water that leaves your fingers incapable of leaving her, so you entertain the notion, dragging your digits in and out of her still gushing folds, seeming to make a mark on her cunt. Brushing in and out for a bit, until you settle around the exterior of her clit, you continue to fondle and caress her in your twisted form of aftercare. Even so, her orgasm continues to wash over her and your fingers, spilling onto the mattress you fuck her on.

“Oh God, I can’t stop cumming, oh God—” she whines, gasping for air, mouth agape, her hand grabbing her other breast; her orgasm is gradually dying from a shower to a drizzle.

“Mmm.” You brush your sticky fingers on her belly, playfully nodding in agreement. “Sounds about right.”

Minnie takes a moment to gather herself before she pushes your hand aside—quicker than you hoped. By the way she orgasmed and screamed, you’d think she’d already be down for the count. “I wasn’t ready, you pervert.”

“I was only following the rules,” you respond, lifting your shoulders in a shrug, barely holding on to your confident demeanor, only showing the faintest sign of a smirk.

“Sure, whatever.” Minnie shoots you a stern leer, but it doesn’t faze you in the slightest—not when you know that she’s no better than anyone else. “Now fuck me with that cock and cum fast so we can get this over with.”

You get the pleasantries out quickly, as she wanted. Hopping off the couch, you undo your belt and pants, get your already hard cock free from its denim constraints. She eyes your shaft intently, looking unsatisfied, but you know it’s a facade, a poor acting effort compared to her usual abilities. 

“Sure you want me to cum fast?” you tease, jokingly pointing out her fixated gaze on your cock. “Seems like you want me to give it to you nice and slow.”

“N-no. I was just surprised at how big it is,” she retorts, appearing even more scornful than moments before. She looks up at you, visibly annoyed, before looking down at your raging cock once more, another sign of betrayal. 

“Please. Drop the act, Minnie.” Tilt her up from the chin, gently pushing her back down on the cushion. Surprisingly, there’s no pushback, no reluctance; she allows you to get atop her on the couch. Her eyes look into yours, then scan your chest with want, with need. “Let me fuck you the way you really want. I want it too.”

A flirty smirk forms on her contorted lips. She pulls you to her level by your shoulders, softly nibbling on your earlobe. With a hypnotic whisper, she says, “Fuck me.”

You return the favor, smiling lightly at the open invitation given to you—knowing that her body knows her wants more than she does. Without wasting any more time on needless pleasantries, you slip yourself in, introducing your cock to her welcoming heat. No matter how much you prepared for this, it takes every fiber of your resolve to not crumble immediately in that moment, uttering a sharp hiss as you close the gap between your length and her womb. 

Your unison forms a harmonious groan and curse that fills the room louder than anything before. The powerful wave of pleasure surging through you overrides your senses, leaves you unable to move, keeps your eyes shut, unable to look at the handiwork beneath you. You grip a hand around her breast, elicit another moan from Minnie’s sultry lips, seek a sign you’re doing it right. 

“So fucking tight,” you rasp, slowly fighting her tight, wet cunt from sucking you all in. Her creamy legs narrow the gap, leaving you even more breathless. Still, you manage, by some miracle, to pull yourself out before you plunge right in again.

Words can’t tell how good Minnie feels with you inside her; sexy, erotic mewls that tickle your eardrums are the only proper expression.

Your hands intertwine and find themselves in the only comfortable place they can be in, with each other. Finding nothing but paradise in her heat, you rest your head on the groove of her neck, still overwhelmed to look at her ecstasy-filled face. As you mark down her skin, leave marks that no amount of makeup can hide, you settle into a steady rhythm fucking her. With each thrust her walls clench around your cock, turn it to a canvas of her pleasure with her juices.

The world quiets down for just the two of you, except for the crescendo of moans that leave both your lips and the wet flaps of skin against skin, and that’s all you want to hear right now. There’s no pressure from the outside, no call from a producer or staff telling you to get ready, just the hot action happening between you. 

Minnie’s thighs continue to clench around your hips, put more pressure around you to burn. In retaliation, you put her deeper into the couch, melt her flesh into the leather as you comfortably fuck her at your pace—not too fast, but not too slow. She returns your lovemaking in kind, rolls her hips, and meets you halfway with each thrust. One hand rests on her taut breast, the other on her hips, but hers are connected with yours; either way, you have the actress exactly right where you want her to be. 

“You fuck me so well,” she whines, tone low, lifting her neck up, kicking her thighs, urging more out of you. “Harder. Harder.”

Lifting your figure up, your cock sinks further into her suffocating walls, plunging as deep as you can into her drenched pussy. The deeper you go, the higher your moans reach. Her hot body leaves you so weak, so breathless, that it forces Minnie’s legs to spur your hips on, to keep fucking her just like this.

“Minnie.” Her name is a plea to make the sensation stop or at least slow down, as incredible as she feels around you. Ultimately, it does nothing, and you press on, as if only her body can satiate you.

It’s then that her eyes flutter open, lips still melted and open, still moaning as you pound her. Her chest heaves with each deep breath, while her palms find their way around your chest. She tries to pull you down again, but to no avail. Ultimately, her body goes rigid, trembles violently beneath you as her second orgasm overcomes her and leaves her completely open to the throes of pleasure. 

“I came again,” she whispers, her light figure quaking from her fresh climax. Even with jittery muscles, her hand traces up to your shoulder, till it reaches up your cheek, forcing you to meet her. “Please, cum in me already.”

Her legs loosen around your hips, as if telling you otherwise, but the feeling is so good—so wet, so warm, and so tight—that it would be a disservice to everything you’ve done so far not to unload in her. She has her eyes observing you, softly caressing your shoulders in a desperate plea, as if you have any other intention other than to do what she wants you to. It’s fucked—how her glazed eyes keep you still, all while your body continues to work overtime. She melts, she contorts, she anticipates you coming undone for her.

Even with her frame rocking and clenching beneath you, her breasts bouncing with each sharp stroke, it’s her eyes, her expectant gaze, keeping you at bay. Her lips shift around, her orgasm beyond her at this point, softly whispering one final plea. “I want—all of you—inside me. Don’t ever—think of—pulling out. I’m all yours—baby!”

You suppress a breathy gasp, grit your teeth, your muscles and nerves all over the place. A little more before you ultimately surrender. A handful of strokes is all it takes before you go numb, burying your cock deep into her cunt. Hot, hot thoughts fill your head, mostly asphyxiating sensations choking your entire body as you pour shot after shot of thick cum inside her greedy cunt. 

“So—warm,” mumbles Minnie, ignoring the longest syllabled fuck from your side as your body gradually descends, all your strength completely sapped in one fell swoop.

You eventually find solace on her bare figure, your cock still throbbing inside Minnie’s pussy, but your motions slow to a halt, until the only sign of life coming from you is the wave of deep breaths you gather on her collarbones. She joins you in rest, letting her nails take refuge on your back, tracing and marking your skin as you did to hers. 

The two of you remain entangled, relishing each other’s sweat, cum-filled bodies on the couch, bathed in the afterglow of sex. Both of you would happily sleep another day on set if it meant you were in each other’s arms. Of course, that’s not the reality; you don’t know when you’ll see each other again after this.

Surprisingly, Minnie is the first to break the tense silence. Brushing your hair, she mumbles, “You okay?”

A question that you should be asking her, not the other way around. 

You lift your head from her body and nod, create little ripples on her flesh. “Yeah. I should be asking you that.”

She flashes a gentle grin, the trademark smile you’ve missed, and will miss. “I’m good. More than that, actually.”

A few more minutes pass, with your eyes lovingly staring into each other, unwilling to let the moment die. “You could have just asked, you know.”

“Hm?” You lift an eyebrow.

“You could have asked, and we would still end up like this. Fucking pervert.”

“Ugh—you’ll never stop referring to me as that, are you?” you groan, dropping your face on her neck while she throws her head back and chuckles.

“Nope. Pervert.”

—————

(A/N: This one's dedicated to @svndaysaweek, I saw his answer to a particular ask and thought it was very appealing of an idea to write. Again, apologies for the sudden month long drought, was feeling extremely unmotivated and still am XD Thank you for reading!)

[neymarsangel]

Tissues - Neymar Jr x reader

Neymar Jr x female!reader 

Requested? Yes/No: Heyyyy ❤️ can I request if u have time of course an imagine with neymar where the reader is sick and neymar wants to take care of her but she doesn't because she afraid she gonna get him sick . However neymar takes care of her but gets sick too so they're both sick sitting all day at home watching movies cuddling etc.💕💕

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

—

Arguably one of the worst things anyone could wake up to was a sore throat and a pounding headache. You noticed everyone around you was slowly starting to fall ill, especially with the weather turning as cold as it was in Paris but you’d hoped you’d been lucky enough to avoid the sickness, clearly you were wrong. You woke up without Neymar by your side, he normally woke up earlier and had a quick session at the gym before you woke up, that way he got to spend more of the day with you rather than running off to work out when the pair of you were midway through something. 

Groaning you reached over to pick up your glass of water which was currently sitting on your bedside table. A shiver shot down your spine as the liquid stabbed your throat. Setting it aside you threw yourself down onto the covers, your hands covering your face as the morning sun hurt your eyes. Everything was silent until the front door clicked open. 

“y/n?” Neymar called your name. “Are you up yet?” He asked as he pushed the door to your shared bedroom open, his hopeful expression dying when he saw the look on your face. “What’s wrong?” He hurried over to you but you ushered him away. 

“I’m ill so don’t get too close, otherwise you’ll end up with it and Kylian will kill me.” 

“You think I care for what he has to say?” The Brazilian gave you a look as he moved to the window, opening it ever so slightly enough to give the room some airflow but not enough to make you worse than you already were. He placed his hand on your forehead, a sympathetic look on his face when he noticed how hot you were. “Oh, baby…” Pulling back he grabbed your glass before speaking. “I’ll be back, don’t move.”

“You think I can move?” 

“Even when facing death you still have a way with words.” He mocked before heading to your kitchen. He grabbed some light snacks that he knew wouldn’t make you feel even worse than you did, a soothing tea, more water and plenty of medication. 

Briskly, walking into the room with a light smile, placed everything down on the bedside table for you. “You need to sit up.” He leaned over and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up gently so you could rest against the headboard. 

“Ney please don’t -”

“Don’t what?” His brows furrowed. “Look after my girlfriend when she’s ill? You do the same for me when I’m ill or injured…” 

“That’s differnt…”

“How is it?” 

“I don’t have to play football weekly in front of millions.” 

“Well if I get sick they can survive without me.” He grabbed the medication from the side before facing you again. “This will help with the headache and any pain.” He handed you the pill and water, watching as you tensed your body up at the shooting pain in your throat as you swallowed the liquid. “And this…” He handed you a spray bottle. “Will numb the throat pain, I can grab more things if you need them.”

“Thank you but I’ll live, it’s just a shitty cold.” 

“They’re the worst though.” He gave you a light smile. “Make sure you keep drinking, I read that the more water you drink, the quicker the virus leaves your body.” 

“I’ll try.” Giving him a faint smile you watched as he picked up the tv remote before handing it to you. He climbed onto the bed, laying on top of the duvet. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Watching TV with you?”

“But I’m ill.” 

“I worked that one out a while ago.” He teased. 

“Please Ney, you’ll get ill…”

“And? Won’t be that bad.” 

You had no strength to argue with him, as much as you wanted to tell him that he needed to leave you to die alone in the bedroom you knew he’d never get up and just go so you accepted your fate and he accepted his. 

The pair of you spent the day watching shitty movies and talking about the weirdest topics anyone could think of. It was the side you wished the world saw more of when it came to him. He was beyond kind and always looked out for others, even if it didn’t benefit him. Deep down he was one of the kindest people you’d ever met but it was a shame the world never saw him like that. 

That night he came into your bedroom holding two bowls, both filled to the brim with soup. “I made it myself.” He smiled like a child on Christmas. “Not sure how good it’ll be but I did try.” You reached your hand out to cup his jaw, moving your thumb along his beard with a smile. 

“Thank you.” 

He leant over again, kissing your forehead lightly as he set the tray on the bed, making sure he didn’t spill anything. “Anything for you love.” He handed you a bowl but stopped you before you could even think to take a sip. “Take this, it’ll kick in when you sleep, hopefully then you’ll make it through the night without any disturbances. That’ll make you better faster.” He handed you the pill before tilting your chin up so you could swallow the rest with water. “Good girl.” He winked, earning himself an eye roll from you as he set the water aside.  He grabbed his own bowl, this time crawling under the covers of your bed. 

“Ney you’re going to get sick.” 

“How many times have I told you that I don’t care?”

“Well, I do.” 

“I know and for that I am thankful but when we sleep together and share a house together it is rather hard not to catch one another’s illnesses.” 

“It can be avoided if you just left me in here…”

“And let your rotten corpse make the house smell? No thanks, I’d rather die with you.” 

A small jolt of laughter fell from your lings, nearly taking your breath away with how sore you really were from the illness. “Thank you.” You looked up at him, inching closer to him.

“You never need to thank me.” The two of you spent the evening waffling about anything you could think to talk about, in parts you almost forgot you were ill and then the pain in your throat stabbed you slightly just as a reminder to yourself that you were in fact ill and no amount of laughter would change that. 

“Ney?”

“Hmm?”

“What does the kitchen look like after you’ve been cooking in it?”

“Want me to be honest?” He asked as he started to eat. 

“Obviously.” 

“Looks like a bomb just went off.” 

“Brilliant…” 

—

“Okay so fuck, marry, kill but… it’s only the guys in the team.” You smiled up at him as you spoke, and the two of you decided to spark up a fuck, marry or kill debate whilst watching an episode of modern family. “Kyillan, Messi or Marqunihos…” 

“Fuck… um…” He thought long and hard about his answer, anyone would think he was taking an exam to decide his future. “Okay… marry Messi… fuck Marqunihos… and kill Kyllian.” 

“Killing off Kyllian with no mercy.” You laughed at the man who was now quickly rethinking his answers. “You know you can’t change your answer when you’ve said it.” You spoke, noticing the change in expression. 

“I know, I know… just thinking about what Kyllian would say if he heard me say that.”

“If it makes you feel better there’s definitely been moments where he’s thought that about you before.” 

He shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips. “You know what I think you might be right…. On more than one occasion I’m willing to bet.” As his laughter subsided, he turned his head away, coughing into his shoulder before facing you again. 

“You okay?”

“Me? Yeah… I’m fine, just got something stuck in my throat.” He flashed you a smile, a sign he was definitely lying when it came to things like this. 

“I think you’re lying…”

“Calling your boyfriend a liar huh?” He mocked before placing another kiss on your head. Neymar glanced at his phone, quickly noticing the time. “We better get some rest, you need the rest. With little rest you won’t recover fast.” His hand snaked under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. He lowered himself down, kissing your lips lightly, almost scared that if he added force he’d hurt you. He wished he could have longed the kiss out, wanting nothing more than to have you all to himself for that night but he couldn’t and the truth was he could feel himself start to show symptoms of your illness.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too… thank you for all of this.”

“I don’t know why you thank me.” He pulled the duvet over the two of you, sinking into the pillows like they were clouds. “In sickness and in health remember?”

“We aren’t married.”

“Yet.” You didn’t need the light on to know he flashed you a grin.

His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you onto his chest. His hand traced your face and lightly made its way to your hair, knowing the feeling immediately relaxed you. 

“Ney…”

“Don’t you dare say that I’m going to get ill because I don’t care.” 

Giggling into his chest you nodded against his skin. “Fine… you win.” 

“I always do love.” He planted one last kiss on your forehead as the two of you quickly drifted off to sleep, both relaxed in one another arms, now finally not caring if one was sick. 

The next morning you awoke to the sounds of horrific coughing, it honestly sounded like your boyfriend had managed to choke himself in his sleep. 

“Ney?” 

“Hmm?” He called from the bathroom, suddenly emerging in the doorway his eyes were bloodshot and pools of sweat started to form on his forehead. “Oh, baby…” You gave him a sorry look as you took in his wrecked state. 

“You know…” He plodded back to bed. “You may have had a point about not getting to close when you’re sick, I feel like shit.” 

“I did tell you -”

“I know, I know!” He landed on the bed, rolling on his back so he could rest his head on your chest. “I say we just make the most of it and cuddle all day.” He looked up with hopeful eyes. 

“Well, I can take care of you.”

“You gonna rival my soup?” A smirk played on his lips.

“Rival it? Your soup is going to taste like dishwater compared to mine.” 

[robinhobiii]

Only You

Mafia! Jeonghan

Every one wants him. But he only wants one person.

He sighed for the millionth time today. He just wanted to leave. Too many people were trying to talk to him and it’s draining him. His eyes were slightly droopy but unbeknownst to him, it made him look more sultry like. Making more and more people attracted to him. His mysterious and slightly cold aura captures anyone coming his way.

“Jeonghan! There you are!” Another one of the socialites said as she waltz over to him. His face remained indifferent as she pushed up against him slightly.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” She whispered seductively.

God, he was really going to kill Seungcheol.

“Can’t, have work tomorrow.” He said courtly, trying to move away.

“Come on, hannie. It’ll only be for a little bit.” She pouted. He cringed at the name that disgraced her lips.

He pushed her slightly for her to land back on the other chairs and made his way out.

There’s only one woman that could call him hannie.

Y/n.

As he drove home, he remembers the memories with her. How brilliant her smile was and how shy she used to get at his flirty remarks. Her soft hands that would caress his face after a long day and how she would nurse him back to health after working for hours on end.

Oh, how much he misses her and how he longs for her warmth again.

Everything went well until she found out his real occupation. She gave him an ultimatum of leaving the mafia family or her. He obviously couldn’t choose. These were the things that made him happy. How could he only pick one? But in the end, she left. There was radio silence from her end.

Nothing.

She even moved work places and her apartment. If Jeonghan wasn’t in the mafia with a lot of connections, he would’ve never found her.

Her face remains engraved in his head. He wants to be in her arms again and hear her sweet nothings after a long day. It’s been harder these days to forget everything. It’s like the universe was taunting him with everything that reminds him of their time together.

. . .

To be fair, he didn’t want to be in the mafia family. He just wanted to make sure him and his sister didn’t die. His parents borrowed money from a different mafia family and they couldn’t pay it back. So his family was always on the run and wanted to essentially survive.

One day when Jeonghan was picking up his sister from school, his parents were brutally murdered. In that short 15 minutes of him picking up his sister, they died and couldn’t even plea to spare them. He received a phone call from the neighbor saying they heard loud screaming from his house. Sensing it could be bad, he drop his sister at her friends house for the time being. He made his was home and saw the devastating sight. On the wall, written his parent’s blood, states that they need to get the remaining 50 million won by next Friday. He shuddered as he sat down on the couch. Although he was sad to see his parents like this, he couldn’t even shed a tear. At the ripe age of 18, he was now the sole guardian of his sister.

He needed to get out and get out fast. Where was he going to find that much money in a short amount of time? So, he knew what he had to do. And so he walked to the house at the very end of the street and knocked in strategic way to alert them. The door swung open and revealed a tall man with glasses.

“Wonwoo…”

“I’ve heard the gunshots.”

Jeonghan said nothing. “I’ll join.”

“What?” Wonwoo said, taken aback. “B-but, I thought you-“

“I have no choice. Me and my sister can’t keep running. We need him to protect us. He can avenge me and sister.”

He was the big boss, Choi Seunghyun, aka, T.O.P. He was running the harshest and ever growing mafia family, Big Bang. The name Big Bang comes from the people that go out with a bang when nothing is paid back to them.

“Hyung, think it through. You’ll never be able to leave. I’ve been there for two years already and I made the biggest mistake.”

“I have to. For me and my sister.”

And so, Yoon Jeonghan was secretly sworn into the family and to build trust and a bond, TOP ordered his men to kill that mafia family that harassed Jeonghan and his family. Even he says it’s to build trust, it’s just something to emotionally blackmail Jeonghan to not leave.

By the time he was 20, a riot within the family was started. An internal war was far worse that the ones with someone else. “The family is not going to last any longer. We’re all going to die.” Joshua said.

“We need to leave and leave now. So many people already left.” Jihoon said.

“No.” Seungcheol said.

Everyone looked at him.

“We’ll start our own clan and be better than them. Most of us have no one waiting for us at home. For some of us, this is the only family we have.”

“But hyung-“

“There’s no buts. Trust me. I’ve been by Seunghyun’s side for the last 5 years, I know what to do. Just trust me.

And they did trust him. They became Seventeen, one of the most wanted group across world. With each members unique ability, the group prospered and because much bigger than imagined.

. . .

Because of the his charming looking and his ability to finesse anything in a conversation, Seungcheol made him one of their main undercover says to find informations.

That is how he met the beautiful woman that is Y/n. She worked as a journalist and would often spend her time at the cafe, across the street from her work place.

By fate, they met. They were there at the same place and at the same time. She caught his eye the moment his eyes landed on her. How focused she was on the paper she was writing and how she didn’t even look up. Everyone was flocking to get a glimpse of him, while her eyes remained on her laptop.

He smirked. How interesting.

He sat right in front of her and said, “Is this seat taken?”

Again she didn’t look up and mumbled out a no.

As he sipped his coffee, he looked at her. Everything about her was perfect to him. Is this what love at first sight was?

“You know staring is rude, right?” She finally said.

He was surprised for a second before that infamous smirk made its way to his face.

“I can’t help that a beautiful lady is sitting right in front of me.”

She blushed slightly.

“You’re weird.” She laughed.

God, he could hear that for the rest of his. Her laugh rang in his ears in the most beautiful way possible.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“I need to leave.” She said with a smile as she picked up her stuff.

“You won’t tell me how I’m weird?”

“Maybe next time.”

Jeonghan smile widen as he hear that.

Next time. He couldn’t wait for it.

. . .

Soon enough, they were chatting at the cafe almost everyday. Jealous eyes scanned them as they were lost in their own world. She actually talked to him! He was starstruck by her and day by day he was falling deeper. Her small little habits never left out in Jeonghan’s mind.

After three months of talking, he knew he needed to make this official. She needed to be his. He took her to country side and showed her around the beautiful mountain village. She didn’t know this, but this was where Jeonghan grew up. But she loved every second of it. He finally took her to one of the nicer restaurant and asked her.

“Y/n. . I know that we’ve known each other for a short three months, but I feel like, I’ve known you my whole life. I just can’t imagine my life without you in my future. So, will you be my girlfriend?”

She smiled and leaped into his arms. “Of course! Don’t even have to ask.”

Soon enough, three years passed and Jeonghan was the happiest he has ever been. He never told her in those three years that he was in the mafia. He wanted to maintain her sweet innocence and not scare her away.

But that came to an end, when she was cleaning their shared home. She went to throw away the trash when she saw some files with Jeonghan’s name one them. So, she went to his office to put them on his desk, but she was shocked to his a gun and knives on his desk. She doesn’t know how long she was there, but she there for a while for Jeonghan to find her there. He couldn’t even come up with an explantation as to why there was a gun on his desk. He could’ve made an excuse for the knives but he knew he has to come clean about it to her.

“Hannie, what’s this?”

“Baby, let’s talk about this tomorrow”

“No! We’re talking about this right now. What is this?!”

“Angel. . . come with me.”

He took her to the other side of the room and sat her down on the couch. He sighed. “I’m . . . In the mafia. . and I know you’re confused but believe me when I say that I was going to tell you eventually when the time was right.” He was lying. He would’ve never ever told her. “I. . .wha-what?” She said.

He couldn’t read her face and was getting anxious. “Talk to me baby.”

“I. . . I’m heading to bed.”

She slept in the guest bed that night. Jeonghan couldn’t sleep as the bed felt too cold without her. Little did he know that this would be the last time she was ever be in the same house as him. The next morning rolled around and she was silent. But he had work to attend to. “I’m leaving, baby.” He leaned down to kiss her but she moved her head. He moved back in shock.

Later that night, when he came home, he noticed that she was thinking. He was nervous for what she’ll eventually say.

“Jeonghan.”

That sent shivered down his spine. In those three years, she only called him Jeonghan a handful amount of time. And each time he disliked it. “Yes.”

“I’m going to give you a choice. And you need to pick one.” She sighed. “Either you leave the mafia or . . leave me.”

There was silence after she said that.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Angel, you have to understand I can’t just pick o-“

“You have to! I can’t live with a man that kills for a living.”

“Listen to me-“

“JEONGHAN! JUST PICK ONE!”

It was silent again. Never does she ever raise her voice at anyone but she couldn’t help herself.

“Baby. . .” He started.

Suddenly his phone rang. He looked at her apologetically before he answered. It was Seungcheol.

“I need you to come to the office now!”

“Why? What’s wrong?!”

“Just come, it’s too long to explain but unit three is injured. We can’t get a hold of Soonyoung. That last response we got was from Chan at 10:56 pm. Come now.”

He rushed up but paused and look at her again.

“We’ll finish this when I get back.”

The door shut close and she got her answer. She scoffed slightly, “when I get back.”

She packed her things and called friends for help. They came and loaded somethings in their car and she packed some in her car well. She turned off her phone and made her way to her friends house.

By the time he came home, it was 6:42 am. She was no where to be seen. He called her phone and it went straight to voicemail. He was hysterical as he slipped to his knees. Yesterday night would mark the last day he sees her.

. . .

That was almost six months ago. It haunts him everyday. Oh how he regrets going out, but the other part would regret breaking the brotherhood that they created. Day by day, he yearns for her. His other members noticed him and tried to comfort him but he didn’t want comfort, he wanted . . no he needed her. Everyday passed by in a blur and he wanted that clarity again. When he met her, it felt as the all the problems in his world disappeared. He didn’t know how he lived without her before.

“Meeting in 5.” Jihoon reminded everyone in the common room. Slowly Jeonghan made his way to the conference room.

“The next month will be very busy, so pay attention, especially you Jeonghan.” Seungcheol started. Jeonghan just started tune everything out. He wanted to only live in his memories. Wanting to live in his make believe so that the harsh reality won’t make him cry more. Joshua got a glimpse of him slipping, so he elbowed him and that got Jeonghan out his daydream. He silently sighed.

“And Jeonghan will be there ahead of time to listen to everything.”

“Ugh, again.” He whined out, annoyed.

“Everyone sessionally wants a piece of you, so you’ll be going in.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at that. Not everyone wanted him.

. . .

His hooded eyes scanned the room to look make sure the target left so he could finally leave. Once he was sure, he made his way out. He stopped at a bar on his way home. Everyone’s eyes were on him. One drink turned into two drinks turned into three. Before he knew it, he was extremely drunk. He then heard a familiar laugh. He whipped his head to look for that comforting sound.

There she sat with all her beauty. Her beautiful lips up in a smile as she drank with her co-workers.

God, he wanted to leave before he did something stupid. As he made his way out, Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It hurt so bad seeing him get so drunk and she didn’t even help him. Although she tried to forget him, and hate him, she couldn’t. She did too much with him to forget that man. His love still linger through her.

She missed him so much. She wanted to run back into his arms, but she knew that if she did, she would invite the bad into her life. His karma will come to collect his debt and she doesn’t want to be in the middle of it.

“Go” Her supervisor said.

Y/n looked up at her and shook her head. “I can’t.” She said as a few tears escaped. “You clearly still love him and want him. You should try to work it out.” They knew she broke up him but not for him being in the mafia. No. She told them that it just didn’t work out anymore. They were obviously shocked and didn’t believe her but didn’t pry as she was in a bad state. “I think I’m going to head home.” Y/n said as she paid for her share.

. . .

He woke up with a pounding headache and almost had no memory from last night. He did remember seeing her. He could never forget her. Jeonghan was having regrets. Maybe he should’ve talk to her? No. That could’ve gotten ugly.

He went on with day as normal but he was thinking about her more than usual. He wanted to talk to her again. He knew that it’ll never happen and it’s only a distant memory. He made it to work and Seungcheol made his way to his office. “Jeonghan, tonight is the night, be ready.” He said.

That night came faster than expected. And all 13 boys made their way to the club. There was a set plan and by tonight there should be one less person on this earth. He made his way to bar and ordered a whiskey. And made his way to one of the sofas. Many girls tried their ways with him with no success. He was only there as an extra pair of eyes, so seducing these women for information was not needed. As some girl was kissing his jaw, he saw her. She was wearing a black dress that was beautifully complementing her body. Her shy eyes scanned through crowds of people, looking for someone. The more he looked at her, the more he wanted to next to her.

He pushed the girl softly and made his way to Y/n. She was facing away from him and he was a few feet from her. His hands naturally found their way to her waist. She was slightly startled and tried to push the hands away before he said, “It’s me, angel.” She was frozen and said nothing. He took this as a sign to continue. One of his hand came up and brushed her hair out of the way to get access to her neck. He placed gentle kisses along there and she let him. Soon her hands were placed on top of his.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” He whispered in her ears as he placed some kisses there as well. And they left the club and Jeonghan was driving them to his apartment. The car ride was silent but he didn’t mind. Just being in her presence was enough for him.

. . .

He opened the door for her and let her in. He then got a glass of water for her and him to drink. Once they were done, they only looked at each other. They both longed for this moment again. “Maybe this was a mistake. I should leave. ” She softly said.

“N-no! S-stay.”

He sighed and said, “Angel, I owe you an explanation. That night I left, I had an emergency. The boys were in trouble and I needed to ensure their safety. I know in that moment you must’ve felt unimportant. I should’ve sat you down and talked throughly that morning. I should’ve set it straight when I saw you that morning. And to answer your question. . . I can’t leave them. It’s a bond we built on hardship and trust. We are each other’s family. We can’t ever be apart. But I also didn’t want to leave you. When I came back, you were gone. I wanted to come to a compromise because you are the light in my life. I only want you to look at me. I just want you.”

She looked at him and didn’t know what to think. “I don’t want to live my life in fear that I’ll be killed. I want to live normally.” She said.

“You can. No one in the mafia world knows I’m even affiliated with seventeen. We can work it out.” He said as he held her hands.

“I . . I want it to work too but I’m too scared.”

“We can take it slow and figure everything out, like old time.”

She smiled at that. “Yeah, like old times.”

“Let’s head to bed and plan out everything tomorrow, hmm? How does that sound?” He said as he brushed her hair behind her ear.

“Sound perfect.”

. . .

He gave her some of his clothes for pajamas and boy did he miss that sight. She softly smiled at him and made her way to bed. When she was comfortable, Jeonghan joined after turning off all the lights. He hugged her and placed a kiss on her head.

“We’ll be okay.” He whispered.

[tothosewhoyearnforit]

surf's up pt.1 ?? - kazuha + minju  

-this was originally meant to be a birthday fic for Minju but I couldn’t sit down and complete it so I incorporated one of my dirty thoughts into this fic. I’m not sure if people would like this as much as my mind did. threesome, creampie, nothing way too crazy, maybe a bit of overstimulation. please do tell me if this is straight trash, i’ll consider not writing a second pt to this.

-length: 2145 words

-minju, kazuha x male reader

The beach. The perfect place for just about anything. Surfing, picnics, volleyball, swimming, going on dates. That’s what made it your favorite haunt. 

Just kidding.

You absolutely hated the beach. Especially sand. It’s coarse and it gets everywhere. The sun was a bane to your existence. The constant chaos of seagulls cawing, children screaming and the waves crashing just did not sit well in your mind at all. This was probably the first time since the pandemic that you’d come to any beach. You moved from your hometown to the city just a week ago and since your apartment was close to the beach, you figured why not got for a jog now that you were done unpacking everything into the new residence and get to know your environment a bit more.

Midway through your run, at a slightly more deserted area of the beach, you caught sight of two fine bodied female surfers. Both of them were dressed in one piece singlet swimsuits that accentuated their lovely figure. The one on the left was a tall slender bodied woman that had a body to die for. Her abs were well toned and her arm muscles were extremely defined. But what caught your eye the most was her legs, they were long, sleek and slender with thighs that you wanted to wear as a scarf. They led your eyes up to her cute perky ass that was asking to be spanked. The woman on the right was a bit bustier. The swimsuit accentuated this fact by hugging her chest tight and exposing her buttcheeks to the world. As you were admiring the sight before your eyes, the whole world suddenly started to fall as the two vixen faded away from you into the darkness.

.

.

.

“Is he awake?” 

The warmest, gentlest voice brings you back to earth. Opening your eyes, you’re greeted by the same two damsels that you were admiring before ending up in what seemed like a small foresty area by the shoreline, laying on a sky blue beach mat with an ice packet to your head. 

“Are you okay? You look like you took quite a fall back there.” It was the taller girl. Her doe eyes fluttered as she spoke to you, melting your heart as well as the stinging pain in your head. 

What happened to me? Why am I here ? Why are you both so awfully perfect ? You had a million questions you wanted to ask. 

“He looks okay.” said the shorter, bustier girl. “Or at least that’s what his little friend is trying to tell us.” Pointing down at your crotch, turning all attention to the bulge starting to form. 

“Fufufu…guess it's time to get acquainted huh Minju.” says the taller girl, moving her hand down to your crotch and rubbing your cock through your pants. 

“Take it easy Kazuha, you don’t want this poor guy fainting again.” 

“Wha-” You’re cut off by Minju diving head first into a kiss. She smells absolutely divine, a mixture of ocean air and rose petals. Meanwhile, Kazuha is wiggling your troublesome clothes out of the way, and in a matter of seconds, you’re stark naked on the beach mat, visible to any fishing boat that may go by. The two girls gather at your cock and begin to shower it with their affection, arching their backs to show off their juicy hindparts. 

“Gosh, who knew we’d be getting railed by such a monstrous thing today huh Minju”, Kazuha says while kissing the base of your cock, the warm air from her nostrils gently breezing against your skin, sending tingles up your spine. Minju is unable to answer, working her magic on your balls, taking one in her mouth at a time and covering it in her saliva. She gets to work first while Kazuha backs off to begin a deep makeout session with you, while your hands survey her specimen of a figure, admiring how toned yet delicate her muscles had developed. Meanwhile Minju is absolutely going to town on your cock, not even needing time to acclimate to how big your length was. She would bob her head down in a rhythmic manner, going down twice while looking at you lustfully before staying there, allowing your dick to take 2 seconds of rest before slowly detaching her mouth. Minju was also extremely skilled with her tongue. It snaked around your cock as she worked her magic, moving over your sensitive points as it disappeared and reappeared from her mouth. Soon, she got off and let Kazuha have her way with your throbbing erection.

Kazuha leaves a deep kiss at the tip of your cock, before taking your length in her mouth. She, unlike Minju, starts off safe, taking in no more than a fifth of your cock, then a quarter, then a half, until your whole length disappears into her mouth hitting the back of her throat, her lips touching the base of your cock. Her mouth is warm and snug, you could leave your dick in there for eternity. Then, Kazuha moves her head up and down furiously, never letting more than a quarter of your dick out of her mouth. You throw your head back in pleasure, Kazuha’s mouth was perfect, it was like it was molded just for taking your dick in. Meanwhile, you begin tearing off the swimsuit that Minju was wearing, kneading her sizable tits and squeezing her juicy ass and smacking it while making out intensely with her, earning a few moans that escaped from Minju’s mouth. Sensing that you were about to cum, you stand up and grab onto the sides of Kazuha’s head and begin facefucking her. She maintains eye contact with you as you continuously thrust your length deep within her sinful abyss with eyes that begged you to abandon life and surrender to her. Soon, your cock could not take it anymore. 

“Fuck! Kazuha!”

You cum right into Kazuha’s mouth and she tries to take it all, but there’s just too much and it starts to overflow as you withdraw your length from her mouth. Minju instinctively knows what to do, licking the cum around her mouth, cleaning it up. Kazuha opens her mouth to show how much you’ve let loose within her, before swallowing it in one gulp and sticking her tongue out again to show you that she ingested it all. 

Consumed by lust, Kazuha pounces onto you, pinning you down onto the beach mat. Your lips crash against hers as you start to lose yourself in the hot and passionate kiss as your hands work to peel her annoying swimsuit away. Soon, her bare body was right on top of your own, both her legs on your sides, her textured abdominal muscles on top of your own, her breasts pressed against yours, her arms wrapped around your neck as beads of sweat start to collect on both your bodies and her dripping shaved pussy touching your ever hard cock, just waiting to be destroyed by the latter. Your hands work to squeeze and slap those juicy butt cheeks that you were admiring before. You position your cock with Kazuha’s pussy and press her down on it, slowly moving your entire length inside of her. Kazuha then lets out a loud moan once the whole thing is inside.

“Fuck! You’re so big, you’re gonna break my pussy…”

Minju, not wanting to be left out, climbs on top of you, sitting on your face, demanding to be eaten out. At this moment, you’d die to see what kind of sexual artwork the three of you were making. But that wasn’t to say your view beneath Minju’s lewd body wasn’t visually appetizing. From beneath you could admire Minju’s perfectly sized tits, swaying from left to right as she rided on your face as well as a close up of her picture perfect pussy whose scent you could not get enough of.

In the meantime, Kazuha was having the time of her life, bouncing up and down on your cock. Her pussy was really tight. Every hip movement she made brought so much pleasure to your mind that it was numbing. The only sounds you could hear at the beach were the moans of the two girls on top of you, the slapping of Kazuha’s bubble butt onto your pelvis and the crashing of the waves against the shore. 

“Shit! I’m about to cum!” Minju arches her back and squeals as a hot wave of her girl juice gushes out of her pussy, coating your face in her slick. She wasn’t the only one about to cum though. Moving Minju to the side, you sit up and reverse the positions you and Kazuha were in, pinning her arms above her head to restrict her movement. She squirms beneath you as you push her legs up to her chest, moving into the missionary position for even deeper thrusts. You nuzzle your neck into hers, devouring her sweat-filled scent as you fucked her senseless, her moans getting louder and more frequent as you upped the pace of your thrusts. 

“Fuck you’re gonna make me lose my mind…Fuck…FUCCCKKK!!!” Kazuha screams, her eyes rolling back to her head as she reaches her own high. Her pussy clenches even tighter around your cock and her back arches to acclimate to the pleasure, causing you to reach your own breaking point, releasing spurt after spurt of sticky white stuff into her swollen pussy. You pull your cock out, to see a small river of yours and Kazuha’s byproducts flow out of her filled pussy. Kazuha is absolutely spent, panting relentlessly as she mutters “so good…so warm…” over and over, showing how you absolutely broke the girl. 

“Hope you didn’t forget about me.” says Minju, as she places Kazuha to the side and pins you down.

“I want you to fucking pour whatever’s left inside me. Fill me up to the brim. Fuck me like the slut I am” she whispers into your ear. 

Her words are lewd and arousing, consuming you in yet another wave of lust. You hug onto Minju’s busty body tightly and without wasting another second, furiously fuck her like you were both animals in heat. If somebody were to walk by, you definitely wouldn’t pull out of her and would continue fucking her relentlessly. Minju’s eyes roll to the back of her head, her mind absolutely overwhelmed by pleasure. Her fingers dug deep into your shoulders, grabbing onto them for stability and to try and reassemble her lost sanity. Too consumed by passion to stop and get her to loosen up, you fuck her even harder and faster, her words resonating within your mind. Pour whatever’s left inside me. Fill me… like the slut I am. You lean into Minju and get a good whiff of her scent. She no longer smells like the ocean and roses. She now smells like sweat and sex. Freeing a hand from your deep embrace, you reach down and squeeze a buttcheek, slapping it. Then, you had an absolutely dirty idea. Using your middle finger, you feel around for her asshole and insert your finger inside. Minju, completely unexpecting of your lewd action, screams in overstimulation. Her hips buckle as she squirts a geyser of her cum for the second time. Her head drops onto your shoulder as you continue railing her limp body, wanting to fulfill her wishes. With one final push and a low growl, you release all you had into her slutty pussy. Wave after wave of your cum flows into her. Even after you pulled out you were still shooting some cum onto her midriff. 

“Shit that was amazing…Maybe I should take the “scenic” route more…” you say as you slump in between Minju and Kazuha’s sleeping bodies, of which you had done an absolute number to. 

HONKKKKKKKK

You are awakened from your slumber by the loud blow of a ship's horn, seemingly scolding you for doing such a sinful deed under the sky where anybody could see. Kazuha and Minju are up as well, getting changed and preparing to leave. 

“That was the best fuck we’ve both had ever in our lives. Here’s our numbers. We live not too far from here. When you want to have a bit of fun, call us and we’ll be right over.” Minju says with a tinge of lust in her voice, handing you a small sheet of paper with both their numbers and names. She leans in and whispers in your ear, “Maybe you can call only me and use me as your personal cumdump.” 

“Ya! Don’t leave me alone!” Kazuha exclaims in rebuttal, shoving the shorter girl gently. She tiptoes and pecks you on the lips before winking at you and leaving. 

You glance down at the paper. You were definitely enjoying moving into your new home.

[insomniumstella]

endlessly 

shuri x fem!reader 

summary: though Wakanda in December is breathtaking and Shuri has nothing against y/n enjoying the view, resting without her girl by her side has been difficult lately. 

warnings: smut, tiniest bits of angst 

word count: 1,439

author’s note: i gave in — Oh, Shuri, the things you do to me. i didn’t realize how difficult and almost terrifying it’d be to write for Shuri, but i’m glad i gave it a shot. i am drinking wine as i type this, so here’s to the first of, hopefully many, Shuri fics

“Sthandwa,” Shuri’s honeyed voice was barely a whisper in the shadows, drowned out by the comforting noises of the midnight wind, “should I wait for you?” She questioned, slowly coming to approach her girlfriend. Her tone held a note of banter.

The girl stayed silent for a second; Shuri was to appear at the lab in the morning, but she had all the time in the world. Besides, Wakanda in December had been nothing short of breathtaking — she wanted to relish in the impressive skyline and the brightly shining stars that the view from her balcony offered.

“I suppose you shouldn’t.” A soft chuckle slipped past y/n’s lips once she decided upon speaking. “Go rest.” It was more of a plead than a suggestion. She’d come to bed immediately if only Shuri asked directly, but the night felt too calm to let go of.

The queen of Wakanda smiled, sneaking tattooed hands around her waist. “No,” she placed a gentle kiss on y/n’s neck, her lean fingers caressing a patch of exposed skin just above her lover’s hipbones, “I cannot rest without my girl.” Shuri slyly admitted.

Even if my girl were words she’s heard a million times before, my girl were words she craved to hear a million times over. It was inevitable; y/n couldn’t stop herself from falling for the princess once again. Endlessly and hopelessly in love.

A comforting silence had fallen between the two as Shuri placed her head on y/n’s shoulder, intertwining their fingers together. Though beautiful, the night was not as special as the serene moment the couple had the pleasure of sharing. Without threats of battle looming in the shadows, the air in Wakanda seemed lighter — different somehow. At last, the people of Wakanda had appeared at peace too, and it had been all the princess could ever ask for.

Princess, y/n thought with a heavy heart, reminiscing about the days when the simple title had used to fit. Except times had not been simple lately and Shuri’s princess title was a habit too difficult to break. Trusting her as the queen of Wakanda had been easy. It was accepting Ramonda as a permanent memory that had been too painful for both of the girls to bear. The future had become blurry.

“Sthandwa,” y/n began speaking, unsure of what it was exactly she wanted to say, “I would die each night for you, just as the moon does for the sun if it meant you would be happy. I’d climb the tallest mountains. Bast, I’d burn the world down to see you smile.” She traced Shuri’s tattoos with her thumb. “The black panther lives and when she fights, I’ll be right beside her.”

She didn’t turn to face her, but Shuri knew her girlfriend well enough to sense the anxiety painting y/n’s gaze. It was eerie to live in times of unpredictable dangers and though she couldn’t lessen her fear, Shuri had means of comforting her girl; means of comforting herself as well.

“I need you.” She whispered and took a step back, pulling y/n in her direction. “The night’s air will soon turn freezing.”

The woman didn’t protest, for she had no reason or energy to, allowing Shuri to whisk her away from the balcony and into their shared bedroom. Neither dared to break the silence that had overtaken the space when their bodies eventually hit the silky soft sheets.

The lonely bed had been solely Shuri’s until a few year ago, when the princess had opened her heart to y/n, permitting access to everything and anything that had used to be off-limits, including the ridiculous amounts of pillows resting over the covers. They laid on the floor now, not that the couple seemed to care. In fact, they were too infatuated with each other to notice anything other than the passionate touches and the way it raised goosebumps along their skin.

Shuri’s lips collided with y/n’s, delicately dancing together. The girl was content with anything the queen was willing to give, yet it didn’t mean she didn’t want more. She longed for Shuri’s hands to explore her body and touch her in places other people could never touch. Burned for the queen’s fingers to slide lower, much lower, as she pulled her closer to seal yet another kiss. Her fingers eagerly slid underneath Shuri’s black satin blouse to explore every inch of skin she could reach while laying on her back. 

“I need you.” She repeated Shuri’s earlier words, a different undertone coaxing the expression. “Please.” 

The scientist took her sweet time rolling over, placing her thighs on either side of y/n’s. “Patience is a virtue.” A light smirk clouded her smile as she placed light pecks on her neck, collarbones, and chest. 

“Patience is a virtue I very much do not have,” she whined, “and very much do not currently care about implementing.”

The queen snickered, moving to place her lips on her inner thighs. “The universe is not as beautiful as you are.” She pushed the hem of y/n’s dress upwards, weaving her finger underneath her underwear and moved it to the side for better access to her lover’s dripping core. “Tell me what you want. Allow me to make tonight be about you.”

The girl whimpered, whether in protest of agreement, the queen wasn’t sure, continuing to place soft pecks on the skin of her lover’s inner thighs.  

“I want your lips on my clit.” She admitted without shame, eyes locked with Shuri's. 

Shuri silently granted her wish, wrapping a pair of perfect lips around y/n’s bud. Though she tried to appear calm and collected, a moan left y/n’s mouth as soon as Shuri’s tongue made contact with her pussy. Shuri didn’t hesitate to sink two fingers into y/n, purring from satisfaction when she let out a high-pitched whine.

The queen sucked on her clit for a second before drawing 8-figures with her tongue. She lapped at her without remorse, loving the way y/n tasted. Her partner’s taste was divine; the sweetest of honey.

“Baby,” she moaned, grabbing a handful of Shuri’s curls. It was as all y/n could manage as the woman replaced her fingers with her tongue, hitting a sensitive spot deep inside her, and began circling y/n’s clit with her thumb. 

“No.” Shuri suddenly stopped. “I want your eyes on me,” she murmured into her skin, her fingers digging deep into y/n’s hips and waistline. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

Shuri’s hold on her body brought the best kind of pain — a promise of love markings she’d proudly wear when the sun awoke in the early hours of morning. “You are, princess.”

“Good girl.” She continued her earlier movement when y/n lazily opened her eyes. The queen’s own irises had been saturated with drunken lust.

The only thought she could muster was upholding an unspoken promise of bringing her the most orgasmic of pleasure and when y/n tugged on her curls to bring Shuri closer, it was made evident that she had been nearing towards the edge, seconds away from falling over. She moaned and whined, her legs shaking from the intensity of it all.

“I’m clo- “ the woman attempted to speak, but wasn’t able to finish the sentence as her orgasm took over, the feeling so powerful, y/n could not focus on anything other than the moment. For the first time in a while, she was truly in the present, with the past and the future blurring into burdens for another time.

“Make a mess on my face, honey.” Shuri smiled proudly before kissing, sucking, and licking y/n’s clit. Three of her fingers began sliding in and out of y/n’s slit, as she needed to feel her lover squeeze around her digits once more. “I love you. Only Bast knows the things I’d do for you.” She admitted, removing her body from y/n’s and getting up to find a towel.

Shuri had almost disappeared into their bathroom when y/n called out after her, “remember when you refused to share your bubble tea the last time we visited New York City?” She chuckled, fighting off sleep.

“No.” Shuri cocked her head to the side after she emerged from the bathroom minutes later. “That was different.” She deflected, her strong accent glazing her playful words.

“I love you.” She whispered, making a mental note to eat Shuri out for breakfast the next day. The girl was balancing on a thin line between sleep and awareness, barely hearing what Shuri had to say.

“I love you.” Shuri repeated once y/n let go, allowing slumber to whisk her away. “Endlessly and hopelessly.”

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 2)

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 2)

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Chapter Two

 A week had passed since your wedding day and you were finally getting the hang of maneuvering around Billy in the penthouse you shared with him. Not that it was cramped, it was a fucking mansion really. A wedding gift from Alistair, and located in the same neighbourhood as him. Of course you saw right through the ruse. It was a convenient way to keep watch over you; you wouldn’t be surprised if the man had cameras in the suite too. You did spend a day looking for them but the search turned up empty. Oh well. If the old man got his jollies from that then so be it.

 After resigning last week, you had spent the last few days moving in and getting settled. It was the first time in years where you actually had time to relax and you took full advantage of it, lounging by the pool in the private rooftop terrace everyday. It was heaven, but you had to remind yourself not to get used to it. This was temporary, nothing more. Even with the millions you would be paid after the divorce, there was no way you’d spend it on something so frivolous like a luxury apartment. That wasn’t your style.

 You entered the suite and headed to the kitchen to grab something to drink. It was almost one in the morning and you had just returned from dinner with some of your college friends. They had arranged the get together last minute after finding out about your wedding. The first half of the night was just them drilling you about why you hadn’t told them you were dating Willliam Russo. One of them found out about the wedding through some bougie New York society blog and they were hurt you hadn’t invited them. Of course you couldn’t tell them about the arrangement, that was part of the NDA you signed with Alistair, so you made up some nonsense about the two of you falling madly in love after you treated Alistair and deciding to elope in a mad whim. It was bullshit, but your friends ate it up. You did feel a slight twinge of guilt for lying to them, but, whatever. They didn’t need to know everything about you.

 You poured a glass of wine for yourself and took a sip. An appreciative sigh escaped you. God, these rich snobs knew good wine. You had almost emptied the glass when you heard loud yelling. Curious, you sauntered outside the kitchen to find the source - a tall, leggy blonde storming down the spiral staircase, screaming.

 The entire upper floor was Billy’s territory, and he’d warned you to stay the fuck away from the very first day you’d moved in. Apparently the same instructions didn’t apply to the other woman.

 “Fuck you, Billy! I hope you fucking die!”

 Amused, you regarded the scene in front of you as Billy took his time coming down the staircase. He was dressed in a black wifebeater and jeans, and appeared unbothered by his date telling him to die. Damn. This was fun. You really did revel in other people’s drama.

 “Who the fuck are you?” the blonde demanded as soon as she saw you.

 “His wife,” you responded.

 The woman turned around to confront Billy who was now a few feet away. “You’re married? You slept with me yesterday, asshole!”

 “Ouch!” you remarked, making a face. “That’s harsh.”

 Billy cast a scornful glance at you before grabbing the other woman by the arm. “What part of we’re fucking done don’t you understand?” His voice was pure ice as he pulled her to the door. “Don’t show up here next time, Gwen. Or I’ll make sure you never book another modeling gig again.”

 You cocked your eyebrow as he practically threw the woman out before slamming the door shut in her face. Shit. That was cold. You felt badly for the Gwen woman, she didn’t deserve to be humiliated like this. Now the same asshole was approaching you, flashing the same disdain. A slow feeling of dread crept over you but you kept your calm, refusing to cower. “You really know how to treat your women well, don’t you?”

 Stopping right in front, eyes darkened with contempt, he looked down at you. “Next time keep your mouth shut in front of my guests.”

 You snickered. “Or what? You’ll throw me out too?”

 “Happily.”

 “We both know that won’t go over well with your Granddad.” Smug, you sidestepped past him and headed back to the kitchen. To your surprise, he followed behind you.

 “There’s only so much bullshit I’ll put up with.”

 You laughed, rinsing off the wine glass in the sink. “I think you’ll put up with a lot to get your hands on his money.”

 “You’re gonna judge me after you married a fucking stranger for money?”

 You turned towards him again. “Guess that makes us both gold diggers.”

 There was that beat of silence again, when his eyes grew darker and his expression turned blank and he simply stared at you like he was contemplating your torturous death in multiple ways.

 “Are you just gonna be hanging around here the entire time?” he finally asked. “I thought you were a fucking surgeon or something. Don’t you have people to cut up?”

 “I quit.”

 A snide sneer curved his lips. “Of course.”

 Usually bitchy comments just rolled off your back, but something about his tone struck a raw nerve. “I’ve been busting my ass for the last fifteen years to get to where I am. What the hell have you done?”

 “I’m a goddamn Marine. A scout sniper specialist with 134 confirmed kills.”

 “So you’ve killed people. Congratulations.”

 “Like you haven’t? Everyone you operated on come out alive?”

 Another sore spot for you. Bastard. “I’m not buying your bullshit about serving. People like you never actually risk your lives. You guys get the glory from slaughtering nations while it’s the poor folks who risk their lives on the battle front.”

 You were taken aback when he suddenly charged at you, cornering you against the kitchen island. Apparently you hit a nerve too if the twitch in his jaw was any indication. Gripping the island on either side of you, he held you hostage between his arms. “Don’t presume to know me.” His voice was a quiet roar, laced with vitriol and menace. The man wasn’t playing, especially when he lowered himself so he could meet your eyes directly. “You have no idea who I am. What I’m capable of.”

 “I hope you’re not threatening me, Billy. I don’t respond well to those.”

 “And I don’t respond well to being forced into marriage.”

 “Looks like we’re at an impasse then.” You crossed your arms, straightening your back, hoping the narrowing of distance between you two would force him to retreat. But he remained in place, his pitch-black eyes still locked on you. “Maybe we should call a truce to keep the peace.”

 “Not interested.” His eyes glided over your face, making it difficult for you to breathe under his scrutiny. “I’d rather destroy you.”

 You knew better than to goad him. You really shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. “Violence gets you all hot, husband?”

 Something almost resembling a smile curved his mouth “You’ll never know. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth.”

 Your lips formed an exaggerated pout. “Aw. How am I supposed to survive without vanilla sex?”

  The last thing you expected from him was a grin, an actual, legitimate smile that finally made you recognize he really was fucking hot. Yeah, yeah, everyone went crazy over his looks including your friends but his personality ruined his good looks for you. Except his smile somehow managed to overshadow all of that nastiness.

 “That mouth of yours is gonna get you in a lot of trouble, golddigger.”

 “It’s also got me out of trouble, sweetheart,” you fired back.

 “This isn’t gonna end well for you. You know that, right? The old man is using you to embarrass me. He thinks he can bring me in line by forcing this marriage on me – but I’m not gonna let him win, no matter what.”

 “Why not just play along? Sounds like all he wants is for you to stop fucking around and take some responsibility.”

 An impenetrable expression masked his face. “Take responsibility? No, he wants me to be his fucking puppet and I’m never going to be that.” The hard glint returned to his eyes. “And if this means I have to take you down, I will fucking do so happily.”

 There were a lot of things that didn’t make sense in this scenario. Like why a rich brat like Billy ended up serving in the military. You didn’t know if that really was true, you needed to find that out, but if it was, it didn’t gel. You would’ve expected him to follow in his family’s footsteps and go to some Ivy League school and work in the family business. But from the cursory stalking you did online, that didn’t appear to be the case.  Back then you didn’t care enough to find out more, but now your curiosity was definitely piqued.

 “Scared?” His snide tone brought you out of your reverie. “You should be. Shows that you’ve got some survival skills.”

 “You don’t need to worry about me. I always land on my feet.”

 “When this whole thing blows up on you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 You smirked. “Warning noted.”

 He moved back, evidently disappointed by your flippant reaction. “You’re an idiot.”

 “I graduated top 2% of my class in medschool but, sure, I’m an idiot.”

 He sent you an irritated glance, making his way to the fridge. You watched as he took out some leftover food from the fridge and started warming it up. “Booksmart isn’t everything.”

 “You’re gonna wax poetic about street smarts now?” You snickered. “Spare me.”

 “Just, please, shut the fuck up while I eat. Your voice is giving me a headache.”

 You watched him as he ate some pasta, noting how careful he was not to leave a mess. Small, dignified bites, carefully wiping off residue sauce from the surface, and actually washing the dishes after he was done instead of leaving them in the sink for the maid to clean up. 

 A yawn escaped you and you realized how tired you were. The dinner had wiped your energy, and while the argument with Billy had reenergized you for a while, your exhaustion had returned. As an introvert, there was only so much you could take being around people.

 “Does Alistair know your brother’s got a record for pimping?”

 You stopped in your tracks. Fuck. A part of you had hoped Billy would be too lazy to have someone look into your family but obviously you’d underestimated him. You turned around to face him, careful to keep your blank mask on. Your brother had made some stupid, heinous mistakes as a teenager that you still hadn’t come to terms with, but you sure as hell weren’t going to let some rich prick lord it over you.

 “Of course. One of the reasons why he chose me for this shindig. That man really wanted to stick it to you.” You weren’t entirely sure, but a part of you suspected that really was the case. You were meant to be a punitive consequence for Billy and so far everything about you was an embarrassment to the man. Alistair really did strike gold when he landed under your care.

 Billy’s eyes were filled with cold heat as he continued his assault. “He pimp you out too?”

 Your temper flared. “Why? You interested?”

 “Not my type. I like ‘em with less meat and no sass.”

 You rolled your eyes. “Is this where I’m supposed to start crying because some rich brat called me fat?”

 “You know,” he mused, “this rich brat can sneak into your room at any time and kill you without a second thought.”

 “And this fat bitch could slip some poison into you that fucks up your entire body and kills you in the most painful way possible.”

 There was wry amusement in his voice, like he was actually enjoying this. Something you didn’t expect. “So you’ve put some thought into this.”

 “I keep a running list of the best poisons in my head.”

 “So not just a golddigging whore then. Potential killer too.”

 “I’m a woman of many layers.”

 “Clearly.”

 For the first time you saw his gaze linger down your body, not in disgust or disdain, but with actual interest, like he was seeing you in a whole new light. And all because you’d confessed to thoughts of murdering him. What a fucking psycho.

 Done with his bullshit for the night, you turned your back and exited the kitchen, all the while feeling his eyes boring into you.

To be continued...

A/N - Thank you for the lovely response to the first chapter. I know some people asked to be added to a taglist but Tumblr really hates my posts when I add pictures or tags in the body. If you’d like to follow this fic, I recommend you follow the tag “Grudgingly Yours”. 

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. Thank you!

[klausysworld]

Not sure if you have written anything like this, but could you do something where Klaus is into reader and she doesn’t give him the time of day, he try’s to win her over by giving readers expensive gifts but she’s not impressed. Klaus overhears reader and a friend talking and she saids how she’s a simple woman, good food, good beer, good music is all she needs.

A narcissistic white man with anger issues?

(third person)

Klaus had been trying his very best to impress this girl. He had gone to all sorts of lengths. Thousands spent of jewellery: necklaces, bracelets, rings, earnings, anklets, hair accessories, anything. He bought clothes of the finest material: dresses, jumpers, jeans, skirts, tops, sweats, anything he could find. He would ask for her to go out with him: “we could go to dinner? I know this lovely restaurant up town” but she would deny his advances. “come ok now love, my family are throwing a gala, i’ll provide everything for you to wear, just show up” but once again she did not. “an art exhibit?” no. “wine tasting?” nope. “i could take you to Paris?” nah. “Italy is nice this time of year” i’m alright.

Let’s say he was getting frustrated. He could hand her the keys to house made of solid gold and she wouldn’t care.

He became a little obsessive, new things at her door everyday, he’d stand by watching for her reaction, the shrug she gave as you looked over his gift before rolling her eyes and inevitably dropping it back off at his house with a note saying “stop trying so hard” which to him meant that he wasn’t trying hard enough.

The one thing she did keep were the sweatpants and a jumper. He found it odd, she also kept some of the chocolates but not all of them, it was like the more money he spent the less she wanted him, and he was getting upset.

People loved money, he’d watched wars start over it and people die because of it, what was her deal?

So he followed her a little bit, for research purposes of course. And he managed to hear a very useful conversation

———————————————————————

(first person)

I was out with my friends down in the streets of New Orleans, we were making our way through the stalls while drinking our pints. There was some sort of festival going on so it was pretty crowded, we decided to go for it and dress up like hippies and raid the different free samples they were giving out at the stalls.

A few hours in we were sat in camping chairs in the middle of the street listening to the bands play their music, just past tipsy and passing round a blunt between the four of us

“this was fun, we haven’t gone out in a while” my best friend, just the one i was naturally closest to said quietly while looking at me, i nodded with a smile

“yep it’s been some time” i laughed leaning back in my chair

“surprised you still enjoy these simple outings, your pretty boyfriend still buying you a million jewels?“ we both giggled at that and i sipped my drink

“oh yea, he has not stopped, i get something everyday and everyday i bring it back”

“damn i wish someone would spend that kinda shit on me” she laughed

“he’s sweet but he’s also a little bit of a narcissist” i told her and she rolled her eyes

“what so he’s in love with himself? who cares he’s got cash”

“oh my gosh you’re right i should just marry him right now” i gasped dramatically

“yea yea i know you don’t want a super fancy life with a mansion and pool”

“i wouldn’t mind a pool”

“you’re funny” she mumbled sarcastic and i mimicked her

“leave me be” i muttered slapping her hand away when she went to take my drink from my hand

“i just don’t get it, the guy won’t take a hint?” she asked

“a hint? i’ve straight up told him to shove it” i laughed

“is he stupid?” she asked while giggling loudly, okay so maybe we drank a little more than i thought

“he’s a privileged white man with anger issues” we were absolutely pissing ourselves over nothing

“okay okay, so would you like ever go out with him?” she asked once calmed down

“i dunno, he’s alright”

“he’s hot” she responded

“he is, he’s also kinda funny sometimes”

“he had a good accent” she muttered nodding her head making me nod too

“he seems to genuinely like me” i pointed out

“that’s true, he’s quite nice actually, he hasn’t done or said anything offensive that i know of”

“no i don’t think so” i muttered while trying to think

“has he ever commented on money situations?” she asked

“mmm no… i don’t think so? he knows he has money, very self aware of that but i know that they give money to charity through their galas and stuff, last time they literally raised like millions and gave it to kids with diseases, like he’s good, you know?”

“mm i say try it, like he’s gotta good heart, right intentions and i’m sure if you go out with him once and then tell him you don’t want to he should quit”

“i don’t want to have to sit in a restaurant filled with snobs that turn their noses up because the flavour is just a tiny bit off, i think you need an extra sprinkle of seasoning no? Like no, literally just put some salt on it”

“i like salt” she murmured

“me too” i nodded

———————————————————————

(third person)

klaus was stood blankly listening to her conversation, he was a narcissistic white man with anger issues, a hot accent and he was funny…sometimes.

He thought it over a little before returning home, his siblings all eyed him suspiciously as he walked with purpose and a determined expression

“oh dear we’re all going to die” Kol muttered while hugging his knees, Rebekah slapped him up the side of the head

“shut up, you’ll give him ideas” she whispered

“both of you remain quiet, he hasn’t headed for the daggers…he’s in his art room” Elijah stated as he listened closely

“so he’s feeling artistic stop worrying” Freya mumbled with a wave of her hand in dismissal

“this is about the girl” Elijah smiled slightly to himself

“the one that told him to piss off?” Kol asked and Rebekah hit him again

“shut-up he can literally hear you” she growled

“oh come on he’s been chasing her for bloody months, i know he likes a chase but it’s getting pathetic” Kol whispered harshly back at her

“he loves her” Freya spoke into his book

“he might just” Elijah murmured

———————————————————————

(first person)

i woke up early afternoon, i made my way downstairs still wrapped in my duvet and opened my front door and yet for the first time in ages there was no present, i frowned slightly, not because i wanted another priceless gift but because it was odd that he hadn’t left me something, was something wrong? was he hurt? Quickly i pulled my phone out and rang his number

“love? is everything okay?” oh thank fuck he was alive

“yes, sorry i’m fine…are you okay?” i asked while closing the door and rubbing my temples

“i’m quite alright, i was actually going to ask if i could see you today… or another day if you’re busy”

“sure come on down, its already like 2pm so i have no plans” i could hear tapping on the other side, probably his fingers on his desk, he does it sometimes when he’s nervous.

“okay…i’ll get there in half an hour?”

“see you then”

Klaus arrived exactly 30 minutes later with a singular red rose and a nervous look in his eye

“please don’t give it back” he whispered and i smiled taking it from his hand

“i’ll keep it” i promised and he smiled back at me

“would you like to come inside?” i asked opening the door wide enough

That afternoon/into evening we spoke about various topics, our families, our pasts, our hopes for the future, ideas, dreams, aspirations. He showed me his art and i asked why i never received this as a present instead, he said he though that id judge him and i told him that he was being silly.

We planned to go out for coffee/tea instead of a top class Italian restaurant, and from there we spent much more time together.

[backtotheshitshow]

Close as strangers prt 3

Summary: Ethan has had enough of his living conditions

Warning: mentions of injury and violence, trauma, angst.

Masterlist

Part 1 part 2

A month, for a whole month Ethan has been sleeping in a bathtub.

For four weeks he’s been constantly banished to the bathroom.

For 28 days he’s only been allowed to eat with a spoon.

The zip ties started to leave cuts in his skin around day nine, but of course she didn’t notice.

She was too worried about him hurting her.

He had tried to find a job, but who was going to hire him.

Y/n was constantly having to keep Chad out of her building, because he’s so concerned about her.

He couldn’t live like this.

Standing up from the floor of the bathroom, Ethan knocked gently on the door and waited for it to open.

“What’s up?” Y/n said, somehow acting like basically keeping him hostage in her bathroom was completely fine.

“I want to call someone.” Ethan said calmly.

“Who do you want to call?” Y/n was confused.

“The Tombs.”

“The prison? Why would you want to call the prison?” Y/n was very concerned about what was going through Ethan’s mind.

“I wanna go back.” Ethan confessed.

Y/n just stared at him for awhile.

“Y/n..”

“Why the fuck would want to go back to prison.”

“BECAUSE ITS NOT ANY DIFFERENT TO WHAT I HAVE HERE, your treating me like a fucking animal!” The boy snapped.

Y/n jumped back out of fright, with water welling up in her eyes.

“Ethan I’m not…”

“Yes you are. You haven’t even notice the zip ties cutting into my wrist, or the fact that I’m always in pain from sleeping in a fucking bathtub.”

“I’m sorry.” Y/n tried to apologise.

“Are you? I came here thinking that you might show even the slightest bit of kindness or compassion towards the person who saved your life, y/n!” Ethan stepped closer.

“How the fuck did you save my life?! You’re sister fucking stabbed me?” Y/n shouted, looking up at him.

“Yeah, and what happened after that? Can you remember? Did anyone tell you?” Ethan pressed.

“No I don’t remember because I black out.” Y/n yelled in frustration.

“I was the one who stopped you from bleeding out. Staying with you to make sure you didn’t die was the reason I got caught.” Ethan said

Y:n stood in shock, a million things racing through her mind.

“I never wanted to be a part of that, After Ritchie died dad was a mess, and I had to be there for him, but he got worse really fast and went crazy. I only agreed to help because I was scared of what would happen if I said no.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?”y/n asked.

“I was scared of that too.” Ethan confessed.

“An meeting me? Us dating?”

“Complete coincidence. I begged them not to hurt you, I hope you believe that.” Ethan turned around and went to walk back into the bathroom.

“Ethan.”

He stopped to look at the girl.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been scared. The whole time you been locked up I’ve thought that you manipulated me, that you used me as some shitty piece on a chess board and you constantly calling me was some sick game to you..” Y/n began to cry.

“If you thought that, why did you let me in?” Ethan asked.

“Because I loved you, whether the Ethan I knew was real or not, I loved him. and every time I look at you I remember how happy I was, how…how beautiful what we had was, I couldn’t bring myself to just let you go.”

“It was real. Nothing we did together was fake. Every kiss, every laugh, all of it was real.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, taking in everything about him.

“Do you wanna come help with dinner?”

“What?” Ethan was very confused.

“Yeah, you just watch the pasta and cut the onions while I clean the stuff out of the bathroom.” Y/n explained.

“Um, okay, yeah I guess. I’ll make the call after dinner.” Ethan said.

“No! No, I’m moving your stuff into our room.”

“Our room?”

“Um…..you can sleep on the couch if you’re not comfortable… or.”

“No it’s not that… it’s just a couple hours ago I was zipped tied to a bathtub because you were terrified I might kill you and now it’s ‘our room’.”

Y/n looked to floor, dozens of feelings rushing through her, guilt, shame, anxiety.

“I’ll grab my phone for you.” Y/n walked away towards the kitchen where she had left her phone.

Ethan went after her, grabbing her wrist, meeting her face to face once again.

Y/n had tears streaming down her face.

“Do you want me to stay?” Ethan asked.

“Of course,”

“are you still scared?”

They looked at each other for a moment, lost in each others eyes. Y.n moved forward pressing a soft kiss on Ethan’s lips.

“No”

…….

Im sorry part 3 took so long hope it’s okay.

P.s Im not from America so I just googled prisons in New York and the tombs came up soooo..

Requests are open.

[sw33t-d1vine]

I LOVE YOU SO.

W. AFTON x GN!READER

— cw : angst… hanahaki disease, its angst sorry LOL , no comfort , sorry not sorry , TAKES PLACE IN HIGHSCHOOL , clara mentioned

— word count , 683

— a/n : hey guys this is an early valentines day post ^_^ maybe i’ll do a second part if i feel like it but enjoy this ;3 .

・Enjoy what you read ? come join my discord server to see sneak peaks and chat with me and other friends ! Link in my pinned post :)

— William Afton didn’t love you.

William Afton loved someone else.

You were only his friend. Thats what he saw you as, just a friend.

He liked a girl, Clara. You didn’t blame him for falling for her, she was gorgeous. She was like an angel who fell from heaven, blonde, curly hair and these pretty green eyes.

You, you were nothing compared to her. You knew you weren’t ugly, but, compared to her? Gosh, next to her you looked like a homeless.

You wished William looked at you like how he looked at her.

Valentines was coming up, the one time a year where you can ask your crush out, or do something sweet for your partner and buy them gifts, bring them out to dinner and share a moment between each other.

You wanted to ask William out, feeling quite bold today. You wrote a letter to give to him, the paper nicely folded and tucked into an envelope that you held.

You round the corner, heart thumping against your chest as your thoughts run crazy through your head. Maybe you did have a chance with him. Maybe, if you got to him before he got to Clara, you could ask him out on a date. Your chances were low, but you still wanted to try and at least let him know how you felt.

As you fiddle with the envelope in your hand, you look up, stopping in your track. There stood, William Afton and Clara, sharing a kiss. She held what seemed to be roses, and a stuffed animal. Just peeking out of the bouquet was an envelope, with “To Clara” written on it.

Fuck.

He got to her before you could make it.

You turn, leaving before the two could see you and heading out of the building. Your chest felt tight, an ache at your heart. You should’ve known he wouldn’t even dare think of you like that, not when his eyes were focused only on the girl he liked. You shouldn’t be acting like this, it was obvious this would happen, and yet, you wanted to scream and cry.

You grasped at your shirt, tugging at it as you breathed heavily. It felt like something was stuck in your throat, chest burning. It really felt like your heart just cracked.

And right then and there, you choked and gasped, hunching over and coughing. Whatever you felt in your throat, it went away. You blinked your eyes, looking down at the ground.

Pedals and blood right in front of you. You squeezed your shirt tighter, knowing what was happening.

This wasn’t new. Well, to you it was, but for other millions of people, it wasn’t.

Hanahaki was an illness anyone could get, caused by heartbreak. You felt it coming, you knew it’d happen.. and now the only way to get rid of it is to either have surgery, or for William to actually love you back.

But, surgery would mean your love for William would be gone. You wouldn’t feel for him anymore. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t do that.

You close your eyes and suck in a breath. You weren’t sure what to do. You could hide this sickness and carry on with your life, die by this illness. Or, you could do something about it and get rid of it.

It was a hard choice. You didn’t want your feelings for William to go, but you didn’t want to die early because of a sickness from heartbreak.

Eventually, you decided that maybe you should do nothing. Hide this sickness from anyone and carry on as Williams friend. Watch him by the sidelines as he gave his attention to Clara. Watch as he gave her everything, and gave you nothing. If it made him happy, then you won’t ruin it. You couldn’t ever do that.

You coughed again, red pedals falling from your mouth and onto the ground. You wipe your lips stained with blood, looking down at the envelope in hand.

No point in giving this to him now.

William Afton would never love you.

[banannabethchase]

20 and 24- Percabeth

Glitter - also on AO3

~

Percy gets home and sees a trail of glitter. He's used to Annabeth's unusual, but this seems different.

~

Oooh a challenge! It went so fluffy I'm gonna die! I hope you enjoy love <3

~

Percy is, well, he's not confused, exactly, because he's learned after this long that expectations of normalcy do not bode well as Annabeth Chase's boyfriend. But he's a big confused about the trail of glitter on the floor, leading to their bedroom.

"Uh, Annabeth?" he calls, hesitantly. "Everything okay?"

"Um. Yes!" She sounds more high pitched than usual, and Percy picks up the pace. He immediately goes for the worst: someone broke in, a monster has her hostage, she slipped on the glitter and hit her head.

“I’ll be right there!”

"Wait,” she says, and the panic in her voice makes him even more concerned, “don't come -"

He doesn't catch her words until the door is open.

Annabeth is on the bed, tangled in a pair of what appear to be stockings.

"Don't you dare laugh," she says sternly. "This was supposed to be, like, a birthday thing for next month, and then I realized if I put the blue glitter trim on while they were off it would get ruined, so I started putting them on and then I tripped and had to roll to the bedroom - I said don't laugh!"

"I'm trying not to, I promise!" He really is trying, too - his chest hurts with how much he's trying not to laugh. "But, really? Stockings? Blue glitter stockings?"

"I thought it would be fun!" Annabeth wails. "We've been together a million years. I've given you practically every present there is." Her face crumples. "I didn't want you to get bored."

Percy feels like an idiot for not getting it sooner. "Oh, Annabeth, never," he says. He sits next to her on the bed, the glitter poofing up in the air and onto his clothes. He doesn't care. "It's impossible to get bored of you." He yanks her close since she’s not going to be able to move well herself, and she rests her head on his shoulder. "You know that, right?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. We're just, like. We're older now, you know?" She shifts so she can see him, look into his eyes. He's still always so disarmed by her eyes. "I want to be able to have surprises still."

Percy presses his lips together. "I mean, I was saving this one for the fancy dinner on your birthday, but if you want surprises." He pulls the brand new box out of his pocket, the one that he'd just picked up today, and kneels on the ground. He pops it open to reveal the gold band inset with emerald and diamond. "How's this for a surprise?"

Annabeth, still wrapped in the nylon tights, glitter in her messy hair, mouth agape, has never looked more beautiful to Percy in his life. "You little shit," she laughs. "No way. I thought - your mom said she was thinking you’d do it on Christmas!"

"And you are to blame for the one lie I've told Sally Jackson," Percy laughs. He lifts the box a little higher. "Annabeth Chase, we've made life ours as partners since we were twelve and you hated me. And made fun of my drooling."

"Well, you still do that."

"Don't interrupt my proposal," Percy says, grinning. "Annabeth, will you make us permanent?" He chokes on the last few words. "Will you marry me?"

Annabeth nods. "Yes. Oh, my gods, yes. I just." She wiggles her left hand, and it's only then that Percy realizes that's the biggest problem with the tights. "I wasn't kidding. Two engineering degrees, and I'm bested by tights."

Percy doesn't laugh this time. "How about we get you out of those, okay?"

Annabeth's expression changes so quickly it's almost startling. "Oh, if that's how you want it to be."

Percy laughs as the two of them get her tights off. He thinks they're lucky to be in bed, but, now, the glitter is really going to be everywhere. He slides the ring on her finger after, when there's tiny specks of blue across their skin and the sheets.

"Now it's official," he says, nuzzling into her neck. "I'm never letting you get away from me."

"Together," she says. "Always."

[unshackled-if]

Currently have an appetite for Angst, so I want to order some suffering if you don't mind~. How would the RO's react if MC is dying in their arms after protecting them from a fatal attack? How would they cope after MC death? Thank you so much~~

I don’t mind at all angst is my forte. 😈

Aurelian:

Aurelian's heart raced as he held MC's limp body in his arms, the warmth of their blood seeping into his clothes.

He was in shock, screaming for MC and trying to push on the wound to stop the bleeding.

"No, no, no, this is NOT happening! MC! Talk to me!"

He felt like the world was moving too fast, with thoughts and emotions flowing through his mind.

MC's breath came in ragged gasps. "Aurelian," their voice barely a whisper, and Aurelian leaned in closer to hear them. "Thank you..."

Aurelian felt a lump in his throat as he looked at MC's fading eyes. He couldn't help the tears that streamed down his face.

"Don't speak," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You're going to be okay. I won't let you die." But even as he said those words, Aurelian knew they were a lie.

He tried to heal them, but MC's injuries were too severe, and there was nothing he could do to save them.

"Please don't leave me," he begged, his voice quivering in desperation. "I need you, MC. Please come back to me. I can't live without you."

MC's eyes closed for the final time.

Elara:

Elara always knew that this world was dangerous and that great risks lurked in the shadows. But she had never imagined that one day, she would be holding the almost lifeless body of MC.

Tears streamed down Elara's face as she cradled MC in her arms. "Why did you take this mission?" she whispered, her voice filled with anguish. "You knew the risks."

"I wish you had listened to me. I wish I could have protected you better," she continued, her voice cracking with emotion.

MC's eyes fluttered open, their gaze cloudy and unfocused. "Elara," they said weakly, blood flowing out of their mouth. "Don't blame yourself. This was my choice."

"No! It wasn't supposed to end like this. You were supposed to come back with me," she cried, her voice raw and broken.

MC's hand weakly reached up, touching Elara's cheek. "I'm sorry," they whispered.

Elara clutched MC's hand, her tears falling onto their skin. "Don't leave me," she pleaded. "Please, don't go. I love you."

MC smiled weakly, their eyes closing for the final time. Elara held them close, her heart shattering into a million pieces.

Kazuo:

Kazuo lay there as MC was dying in his arms, the blood on his hands and the tears streaming down his face a testament to the pain he felt.

"MC, please, please, it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay," he whispered, his body shaking uncontrollably.

MC's eyes were closed, and their breathing was shallow. Kazuo could feel their life slipping away, and he didn't know how to stop it.

He wanted to make it stop. He wanted the blood to stop flowing. He wanted everything to just stop.

"I'm sorry," MC managed to say between coughs. "I couldn't... protect you."

Kazuo's heart ached at those words. "What do you mean?! You saved me! You saved my life! And now I can't even save yours..." His voice broke and shook from pain.

MC's hand weakly reached up to hold his hand. "I'm glad... I'm..." Their breath grew even more labored, and their hand fell back to their side.

"No, no, no," he cried out. "Don't... don't. Please, speak to me."

But it was too late. MC's breathing stopped, and their hand went limp in Kazuo's grasp.

He let out a scream of agony.

He held MC's lifeless body tightly, not wanting to let go. "I love you," he whispered into MC's ear.

“I’ll always love you.”

Aiden/Ava:

A rushed over to MC and held them in their arms, their heart racing with fear. "Why did this happen? No, everything is going to be okay," A shakily rambled as they tried to stop the bleeding.

Soft, shallow breathing came from MC. They were fading fast. A was trembling with shock and denial. The wound was too severe, they had lost too much blood. They didn't know what to do.

Breaking them from their shock, a bloody hand was on their cheek. MC smiled weakly, their eyes filled with love and tears. "Thank you... for everything."

Tears streamed down A's face non-stop. They tried to speak, but their mouth was dry.

"You can't leave me. I love you. I love you so much," they managed to say.

But it was too late. MC's pulse stopped, and their hand went limp.

A's heart felt like it was being ripped out of their chest. They had never felt this much pain and emptiness.

"Why did you have to die?" A questioned, tears falling onto MC's skin.

They held MC's body tightly, feeling like they were holding onto the only thing left in the world that mattered.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you... I’m so sorry."

[weak4skz]

Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, idol au

Summary: Han and y/n have been friends since before they remember. But what happens if their friendship is severed by an unfortunate situation and Han goes off to be an idol while y/n is in college. When they connect through a mutual friend, what happens then?

CHAPTER WARNINGS: self harm, suicide attempt, eating disorder, body dysmorphia, reader isn’t in the right mind, body insecurities, just a lot of feelings, insecurities in general, self consciousness (tell me if I missed anything)

NOT PROOF READ!!!

A/N: chapter 2 is finally up!! If you couldn't tell, my life has been kind of a mess lately and I've been really busy with school as well as personal matters. But thank you for sticking around and being patient <3

COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES!!!

want2besomeoneelse lixie-jisung-stan jisuperboard mentoslol i-dont-know-me-either mooncallerautumn poisonivy21

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Going home my mind was working overtime but at the same time not working at all. My body went into auto-pilot while I was absolutely mentally wrecked. My biggest priority was to drive home without dying or having a mental breakdown; so I focused for the 15 minute drive home. As soon as I was safe inside my house I allowed myself to go numb. To have millions of thoughts but at the same time have no thoughts. It was a coping mechanism I developed over the years. 

I found out I could get into this little headspace after Jisung caught me cutting myself. Since I didn’t want to be caught doing something so embarrassing; I had to find another way to cope.

And to think I thought my night couldn’t POSSIBLY get worse 

I know I told myself I had gotten past this; but I really needed to feel something. So I went to the bathroom and picked up my blade and started cutting.

 It’s not enough

The pain wasn’t painful enough to fix my broken self so I cut deeper than I knew I should.

 Ah… sweet relief 

While relishing in the floaty feeling, I hear a quiet ping come from my phone. I pick it up, reading the text on my screen.

Hey y/n. I wanted to tell you that I passed that audition that I told you about and got accepted to become a trainee at JYP Entertainment. The only thing is that I have to leave tomorrow; but I promise I’ll keep in touch. Don’t die while I’m gone lol

Hannie

I let out a humorless laugh before making one more cut on my left thigh; it was so deep it gushed out blood. I didn’t really mind though; I needed the pain, maybe even liked it. Or I at least preferred it over everything that had happened in the past couple hours. The bathroom started to blur and I started to see stars; I decided to close my eyes and let the darkness take over.

SIX YEARS LATER

I walk into the cozy coffee spot trying to spot my friend. When I do; I rush over and give him a tight hug while he gently sways the both of us back and forth gently. He hugs me so tight I pull back from a lack of air.

Now, one might think that our greeting is a little much for not seeing each other for two days; but there is nothing dramatic enough for the man who saved my life

“Hey Y/n”

“Hey Chan” I say back breathlessly.

Chan, the 5’7 father of seven who is the reason I’m still here today FOUR YEARS AGO

After receiving the news of my mom’s death; I was devastated. She was at the hospital more than she was home; but when she was home we had so much fun. I could remember nights when we would stay up until 4 am surrounded by our favorite snacks. We would talk about anything and everything: me, her, the new episode of our favorite drama, Jisung.

Jisung

He hasn’t contacted me since the night of that party two years ago. I kept my old phone and number, even when I got a new one, just in case he called. I even pay the ridiculous rent for my childhood home just in case he came by. But maybe he just forgot about me; I mean, I am pretty forgettable. Not much special about me when he is a musical genius. 

I look out onto the bridge I’m on; the city looks so pretty from up here. Then, I look down at the water and the reflection of the city on it. Honestly, I would rather be in that city than the one up here. So I walk a little closer to the edge; not to jump, just to look. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. When I get to the edge and lean over it a little, reaching for the city in the water; I feel arms pulling me back. I immediately tense in the man’s arms, trying to figure out what type of person he could be. I lower it down to three options

A pedophile

A man that thought I was gonna jump and is trying to save my life

A drunk guy

‘Hey’ the man says in a gentle voice. “You’re a little close to the edge; why don't we back up a bit, yeah?” the voice says, gently pulling me back to a safe distance from the edge of the bridge. While still in the mystery man’s arms, I begin to analyze him. He’s strong, definitely stronger than me, so I can’t fight him. He also seemed to have the accent of a native English speaker. Before I could finish my detailed analysis the mystery man turned me around. 

“Hi,” he starts. “I’m Chan, Bang Chan. And you are?” he asks, looking at me with expecting eyes. “Y/n,” I responded in a quiet voice. 

“You looked like you could use some company. Why don’t we walk around and talk for a bit, hm? We can grab some food if you’d like.” 

“Oh, I’m not that hungry” 

That is the dumbest lie I have ever told

The truth is I am hungry. I have had nothing but a protein shake every other day. I skipped at least two days a week for the times I would go get food with friends or go eat with my mom at the hospital. But, I couldn't stop now. I've finally started to look normal, maybe even pretty. 

“Y/n, when’s the last time you ate, and I mean a full meal.”

Y/n, are you really about to spill all of your emotional trauma to some random stranger you just met?

Yes, yes I am

“About a month ago” his eyes automatically widened. “Yeah I have an eating disorder that I developed from body dysmorphia,” now Chan is looking at me like I’m crazy. Which, at the moment, I probably am. “Yeah I know. My mom died last week.” now even I know I’ve gone insane. 

“I wanted to jump” this time, I’m a little quieter; the fact I wanted to end my life a little harder to admit. “I’ve been cutting for years but after she died, cutting wasn’t enough” 

That was when I realized I was crying. It 's the first time I had cried since I was at my mom’s deathbed. Not while I drove home; not while I was cutting myself on the bathroom floor, not even at the funeral. 

I expected Chan to walk away. To consider me another depressed college student and to move with his life. But instead; I feel his arms wrap around me and his hands stand to gently move up and down my back. In my estranged state, I’m confused as to why the man I just met is comforting me. What’s even more confusing is how loved and cherished I feel in his arms. So, as any normal person would do, I cry my heart out into the man’s arms. 

After my loud sobs turn into quiet sniffles, Chan pulls me back and looks at my face.

“No offense, but you look like a mess”

“You look worse,” I sniffled.

Now that I got a good look at him, he looked a mess. His hair was  in messy, tangled curls, he had really dark bags under his eyes, and he was wearing different shoes.

“We both look like shit. But why don’t we fix our shit together, yeah?’

“Sure, why not”

BACK TO PRESENT TIME

“Ok, hear me out,” Chan starts. “What would you think of meeting the kids and becoming our manager for our upcoming comeback?”

“Let me get this straight. You want me, a broke girl straight out of college with no experience; to manage you and your friends' world-wide popular band?”

“Yes?” he says, but it sounds more like a question. 

“I haven’t even met them yet. First let me meet your so-called kids then we can talk about me becoming one of your managers,” I negotiated. Chan talks very highly of his kids; but again he couldn’t say a bad thing about anyone. 

“Ok great! How about right now?” he asked with a smile. 

“WHAT?” Chan grimaced at my loudness. “Bang Chan I am not dressed to meet a bunch of world-famous kpop idols!” Truthfully, I wasn’t dressed that bad. I was wearing a white tank-top, maybe a little too tight for a girl like me to be wearing; under a dark blue zip-up with some black, wide leg cargo pants. 

“You look fine,” he said a little more seriously. “They are at my apartment, we don’t  have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, I'll go. I’ve been wanting to meet them for a while, this is just a little more sudden than what I had imagined.” are the words I force out of my mouth. “Yea sorry about that. I just knew if I didn’t ask you to come over today you would put it off for weeks,” he responded with a small smile.

This man knows me too well

He knows how I panic when meeting new people. How I get anxious about everything from what I say to how dirty my shoes are. He knows that I worry myself into panic attacks when it comes to first impressions

I let out a choked laugh, as if I were trying to laugh at a lame joke.

Except I am the joke

I tell him I’ll go, even if I kind of don’t want to. Don’t get me wrong, I do want to meet everyone; it’s just they seem so perfect. They just had to look good in everything: serious pictures, funny pictures, music videos, interviews, you name it. 

Slightly against my own will; I begin to get up, expecting us to leave.

“Y/n, you’re forgetting something,” Chan reminded me. I look at the table to see if I left my phone or wallet on it, but I don’t spot anything that’s mine. “What am I forgetting?” I asked him confused. “Y/n you forgot your sandwich”

My brain is working at 500 mph trying to come up with a better lie than ‘I had a really big breakfast’ because Chan knows I ever eat in the morning. “Y/n, did you eat at all yesterday? And I mean real food.” Chan asked, or rather scolded.

The truth is I didn’t, but it’s justified because the day before yesterday I went out with my old college friend, Yeji, and we ate hot pot; 3750 calories if I calculated correctly. And that’s way above my daily intake for two whole days. So technically, I ate enough for two days in one day which means there was no need to eat yesterday.

“Y/n,” Chan sighed; “Can you at least take a couple bites? Please?

“I can’t eat when I’m nervous,” was my excuse of choice. I mean, it wasn’t the complete truth but he didn’t have to know. 

Chan seemed to accept my answer and stood up. “Fine, are you ready to go?” he asks.