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#tech CFO
smute · 1 year
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ok so i finished season 1 of the white lotus and whats remarkable to me is how relatable every character is like there is no villain no one is wholly evil not even fucking shane or olivia theyre all so painfully real? also so happy for jennifer coolidge who finally got to play a role with some true depth tanya could've easily been another caricature but she evokes so much sympathy i am in awe
#tbh halfway through i completely forgot about the murder mystery introduction and i think that was intentional#like ultimately its not a murder mystery#that whole element has no real bearing on the plot#but as a viewer going into the whole thing with the knowledge that someone *will* die#you're sort of pushed to consider the potential danger#simmering beneath the surface of all that complacency#and frivolity#and ETIQUETTE oh my god#its so well done ugh#its not whodunnit its more like#what in gods name could these people get so upset about#that would warrant that kind of violence#and it makes many of the already uncomfortable scenes downright unbearable#like that conversation between rachel and nicole by the pool jesus christ#or literally everything oilivia says to anyone#oh! another thing i really liked is the fact that we dont really know how rich they all are but my impression is that they're not like#billionaires#like yeah they're doing well nicole is some sort of tech CFO they're certainly upper upper upper middle class#tanya doesnt have to worry about money either and shane is from some waspy old money family but he's not a saudi prince u know?#again. it would have been so easy to overdo the whole thing#turn them into caricatures but NO its all about THEM! theyre not just boogeymen#theyre real and its about them and their attitude that very familiar sense of entitlement#their completely unfounded PARANOIA and the gnawing emptiness that persists despite all that material wealth#LOVE LOVE LOVE everything about it#sorry my thoughts are all over the place#he lied#this is as good as it gets tbh#ALL GROUNDS NO FILTER ☕️#&
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ur-mag · 7 months
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Huntington Bank CFO promises it will ‘continue to innovate’ for customers after closing down 11 locations for good | In Trend Today
Huntington Bank CFO promises it will ‘continue to innovate’ for customers after closing down 11 locations for good Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS
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alpha-mag-media · 8 months
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Costco CFO warns customers of membership price change, claiming ‘it’s a question of when, not if’ | In Trend Today
Costco CFO warns customers of membership price change, claiming ‘it’s a question of when, not if’ Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS
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apnaanew · 10 months
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ja3yun · 3 months
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Push My Buttons | L.HS
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bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!
_____
Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.
"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.
“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.
Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.
Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.
You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.
Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.
To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 
It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 
Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.
With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.
Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.
He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 
Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.
You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.
“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”
Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.
“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.
“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.
Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.
With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.
The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.
“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.
"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt
The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.
Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 
“I don’t work here, I-”
“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.
Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration
But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 
Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.
As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.
You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.
Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.
Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 
You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.
“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 
Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 
“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 
You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.
Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 
This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.
Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.
You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.
Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 
It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 
With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.
_____
As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.
Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 
The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.
A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 
“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.
“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.
Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.
But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.
You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.
His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.
He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.
As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.
His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.
You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.
“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.
Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.
Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..
"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.
"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.
Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.
"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.
"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.
Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.
It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.
Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.
You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.
"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.
“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.
“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.
The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.
You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.
“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.
Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.
Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.
"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.
You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.
Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."
This is going to end disastrously.
_____
"Remember—"
"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.
Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.
You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.
"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.
He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'
As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.
The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.
Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.
It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.
Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.
"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.
Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.
"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.
True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.
As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.
Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.
Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.
And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.
Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.
Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.
This is what he has to tell himself every day.
He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.
As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.
But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.
"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.
You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.
Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."
You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.
Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."
His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.
Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.
As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.
You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.
But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 
"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.
"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"
Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.
Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.
His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.
Either way, you need to get this steam out. 
“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 
As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.
Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.
But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.
Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.
"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.
“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.
As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.
Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 
“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.
"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.
You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.
His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"
“Yes! Obviously!”
Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.
But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.
Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 
He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.
With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.
Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 
Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.
The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.
Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."
A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.
But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.
With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."
“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.
“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”
Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.
He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.
With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.
Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.
"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.
Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.
Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.
Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 
As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.
“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.
Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.
With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”
Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.
“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.
Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.
Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.
“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”
Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.
He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.
“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”
Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.
The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.
“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.
You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.
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tojipie · 1 year
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prison bf series linked here !
content: lots of angst, ptsd, hurt + comfort
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thinking about how much prison changes toji and how different he is the day he gets out. how 7 years of repenting for his crimes completely warps his brain and leaves him with lasting habits he will probably never get rid of.
you don’t quite realize how almost a decade of seclusion from the world’s developing tech affects him. it’s silly, how he doesn’t quite get what an air fryer is or how it works, lashing out and trashing the poor machine after hours of trying to heat popcorn in it.
how he sits cross legged on the floor in front of the couch messing around with the voice-to-text feature on the TV remote, giggling to himself when the text comes up wrong.
how he doesn’t seem to care for his old phone anymore, discarding the dated piece of technology in favor of a burner with a little keypad so he can text you. how he still finds himself whispering on phone calls with you in public, the residual fear of getting caught is something he still wont shake.
you’ve slowly come to realize just how much he hid from you while behind bars. the things he didn’t want you to see, the toll it took on both his mind and body. you trace the new scars on his abdomen one lazy afternoon, feeling him go completely rigid once he realizes he can’t hide them from you anymore.
they’re deep. fleshy pink slashes with raised edges mirroring the scar that runs through his lip. “you should’ve seen those other guys.” he tells you with a hesitant chuckle, trying to ease your mind. you believe him when he says it, recalling countless testimonies from terrified jail guards who’d witnessed his wrath firsthand.
he thinks he might get them covered up, adding to the endless expanse of ink that litters his body. his latest pieces have all been dedicated to you, and lord knows he wants every reminder of you etched into his skin.
toji hides his grief from you. hides how his heart goes into overdrive in large crowds, head constantly whipping back because his mind still believes the men around him want to drive a shank through his neck.
you still notice though. you notice how he sleeps in the fetal position now, knees drawn up as far as they can to protect as much surface area as possible. he holds you when he can, usually when it’s still light out. pressing soft kisses to your hairline and humming a song you cant quite decipher.
he yelped the first time you bear hugged him from behind, whipped around and held you down by your neck until he eventually came to his senses and broke down with a whimpering apology. you’d forgotten about it since, though you notice how hesitant he is to sleep with his back to you now.
you want to tell him that it’s ok. that it’s normal to see aspects of his former life in his new one. especially after spending so much time in it. that it’s normal to be scared when things take him by surprise and suddenly he’s been transported back behind the walls of a dingy 4-person cell.
he’s still able to provide the same luxuries he was able to gift you when his sole form of income came by means that were more than immoral. old connections come to the two of you, offering positions at their respective companies to help the older man get back on his feet.
what toji can’t do is stay sane working a normal job.
don’t get him wrong, the money is good, maybe even better than what he was making before. he just wishes being a CFO wasn’t such a fucking bore. he used to wear suits to feel good about himself, mindlessly indulging in the luxuries he took for granted.
now it’s just his uniform, what he’s expected to wear as he crunches numbers in a penthouse office. he can’t even light up as he does it, his probation officer would probably smell it on him and make him piss in a damn cup.
he misses being stuck in a locked room 22 hours a day. at least there he knew he’d never be able to get his hands on any bud. the drugs in prison aren’t the kind that you want to mess with, toji knew that even before he had an inkling that he’d be spending nearly a tenth of his life in there.
he asks himself if he even deserves a job like this, a job where he has so many assistants that he practically does jackshit all day, twiddling his thumbs on a 10 thousand dollar couch while he contemplates if he should just say fuck it and roll a joint.
he wouldn’t do that though, not after how proud you were to see that he’d turned his life around as soon as he got out. maybe he’ll start using nicotine patches instead.
toji loves you. that much is obvious. you see it in the way his body shows its vulnerability around you. the way his muscles soften when you lay on top of him while the two of you binge films on the couch. the way he’s still too shy to ask you to lace your fingers with his in public, scared you’ll somehow be corrupted by hands that have dealt out an immeasurable amount of harm.
you tell him to just take it one day at a time on the mornings where you send him off to work, tightening his tie and smoothing down his collar to show off the ink he has there. and toji thinks he’s never loved anyone else quite like how he loves you.
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taglist ! <3 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin
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szasfuckingwife · 1 year
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SOUNDGASM
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RICHBOY!EREN YEAGER x RICHGIRL!READER
WARNINGS: SMUT, Eren calls reader a slut and whore, swearing, Eren is a secret fuck boy, reader has she/her pronouns, no mention of reader’s appearance other than what she’s wearing
SYNOPSIS: Y/N is new to Marley, just moving a few months prior. Her parents are rich doctors and she wants to be a professional golfer. At the country club, Grisha Yeager introduces his son, Eren Yeager to her. As she teach him how to improve his golfing, Eren teaches her one or two new things..
A/N: it’s finally summer time, and this summer me and my friends are going golfing🤭 i hope i find my eren + soundgasm is such a summer song, reminds me of 2016 drake for some reason
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It’s 1:25pm at the country club. The sun is shining, the grass was greener than the pockets of the people there. And, above all, a pretty brunette and a pretty blonde are in that field playing a good game of golf.
Eren has his club in hand, his eyes are on the ball. Noticing that he won’t get a good swing from that distance, he scoots himself back a few steps until he finally feels comfortable. His veiny hands latch onto the club a little tighter as he takes a deep breath.
“Are you gonna hit the ball or…?” Armin is tired of waiting. He’s been waiting for his best friend ever since kindergarten. Eren had to stay behind a grade? Armin was waiting. Eren had detention? Armin was waiting.
But waiting for his best friend to hit a stupid ball was so damn infuriating.
Suddenly, Eren’s club went sky high before he hit the ball, sending the white sphere flying over the sky. The green eyed boy whistled in satisfaction; he was getting better each day.
Eren turned to his friend with a smug look on his face, “See! You want perfection? Be patient.”
Armin rolled his eyes before the two heard the familiar voice of Grisha Yeager, Eren’s father and the CFO of a tech company.
“Boys! Get in, drinks are out!” He yelled, waving his hand to grab their attention but all they could see was the bling of his Rolex. “Oh, and son? Getting better!”
Eren smiled, flashing his pearly whites.
“Not better than me though.”
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This was your first time at this country club since your parents moved states. Not only was it awkward as most of the girls your age played tennis instead of golf, but all the guys who played golf were…facially challenged.
“Sweetheart, smile.” Your mother spoke through gritted teeth. She had noticed your unusual (but expected) awkwardness even when you were driving to the club.
You looked at her before sighing deeply, “Everyone here is just…weird.”
“The girls play tennis. You know how to play, why don’t you join them?”
Oh yeah, join the girls that laughed when they saw my personalised club!
If anything, you wished your mother would stop trying to get you to have fun so much, because all it did was remind you how much fun you were missing out on back home. It was heartbreaking to say bye to genuine friends and say hello to well…the plastics.
“Y/N!”, You heard your father’s voice and instantly turned around to spot him. He waved you over, looking eager and excited.
“Why is he so happy? I’m scared..” You mutter at your mother. She laughs and pushed you to his direction.
You try not to draw as much attention to yourself as you walk despite your very loud father yelling your name. Upon arrival, you see Mr Yeager, your fathers new friend.
He’s also the man that prompted the idea to move states.
Your father enthusiastically put his arm over your shoulder, “This is my daughter, Y/N.”
You stick your hand out to shake Mr Yeager’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you sir.”
“Nice to meet you too. Your father tells me that you’re applying to U of M. What’s got you so interested in Marley?”
If you wanted to be frank, and boastful, you’d tell him that you didn’t apply but rather you got a scholarship. Whether it was nepotism because it was your dads alma matter or if it was your big brain and athleticism, it was the best offer you’ve gotten.
“I heard they do good Neurology courses. I wanted to go to university and well, to put it short, make sure I have a plan B.”, You reply, smiling sweetly at both your father and Mr Yeager.
Grisha nods in acknowledgment, giving you back the same smile, “What’s your plan A then?”
“Professional golf, of course.”
It sounds boring, but golf was one of those hobbies that just never went away. You remember when you were 9, going with your father to the golf course just to see what it was like. When your dad taught you how to hit the ball, you loved it.
As you grew older, hitting the golf ball became your outlet. Like that one time you imagined that it was your teachers head instead of the ball after she gave you a C in a test.
Where others prefer an ice rink or a race track, you prefer your club and the nice smell of freshly cut grass.
“Y/N reminds me of Jordan in ‘88 but instead of a basketball court, it’s a golf course.”, embarrassment filled your body as your dad bragged about you. All you could do was laugh at his strange comparison.
“Ah, my boy does some golf in his spare time. He’s not trying to go pro, I hope, but, he could definitely use some lessons from you if you’re that good. In fact…” He looks around, squinting his eyes. “Eren!”
Right then and there, you pray with every bone in your body that this ‘Eren’ wasn’t those boys you saw earlier. God knows what you’d do to avoid teaching them a single thing.
What came, however, was a surprise. And the surprise came in the form of a boy. Not too old, maybe nineteen. He wore navy shorts and an emerald green ralph lauren vest over a plain white tee.
His hair was gelled in a small bun in the back of head. You don’t mind though, since it gave you a better view of his chiselled jawline. You’re sure it could cut your mothers diamonds at home. His eyes were green. No brighter than the grass outside, no deeper than the vest he was dressed in but some odd mixture.
He’s hot, you thought.
Grisha out a firm hand on his sons shoulder as he introduced you and your father to him, “This is my second son, Eren. You’ve already met Zeke by the tennis court.”
As your father gets into another conversation about Zeke Yeager, all you can do is stare at the curve of his younger brother’s muscles. You wish that he lifted the sleeve of his t shirt ever so slightly-
“What’s your name?”
You looked at Eren, and he looked at you.
His smile was just so…genuine!
“I’m Y/N.” You smiled sweetly back at him.
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After your fathers urged you to go outside, you find yourself next to Eren on the kart. He’s driving, riding across the beautiful field.
The sky is honey coloured, the sun slowly descends giving the lake a beautiful shimmer. You’d look at that view, but there’s already a good view next to you.
Eren finally stops the kart before exiting. The both of you get your equipment from the back of the kart and begin to play.
“So…uhh how do you like it here in Marley?” Eren says, grunting after he hits the ball. You stand there, semi criticising his swing, semi fawning over him. “It’s definitely different from Trost.”
You sigh, “Yeah, the air is a little different. And not too many people play golf here.”
Eren looks at you, chuckling whilst shaking his head a little, “Aren’t you glad you met me then?”
You have no idea how glad I am.
You stay silent, instead choosing to smile and getting ready to hit the ball. Eren whistles when he sees the height of your swing. “Where’d you learn how to hit like that?”
After a couple more swings (and misses from Eren), you guys sit in the kart.
“So, where are you applying for university?”, you ask looking up at him. He scoffs, taking a sip of his water.
“No clue. All these offers and all I really want to do is go to Malta ‘n relax.” You notice how careless his face is when he speaks. He must not care that much about his future.
I mean, his parents are rich enough that both him and his brother can live off them for as long as they want to.
You look down, not in embarrassment, but in awkwardness. It’s strange seeing parents not urge their kids to go to university like your parents and Trost parents do.
“What’s your plans?”
You explain how you want to become a pro at golf. Eren listens attentively but, he get’s distracted when the breeze washes over the both of you.
The hem of your sport skirts lift up ever so slightly and Eren’s heart begins to race. For the next few conversations, he can’t stay focused. I mean, he’s just seen the curve of your ass, who could?
As the conversations die down, you and Eren go back to playing golf. It’s Eren’s turn and if he’s lucky, he can get a hole in one. He does what he did earlier: pull his hips back slightly, legs apart, breathe and…
Eren swung and you swore you saw the ball fly into the stratosphere.
“Yeager, I didn’t know you were the athlete.” You chuckle, shocked that he was actually really good.
He shrugs, “I don’t try. I feel like it just comes naturally..”
You roll your eyes as you walk over to him, pointing the end of your personalised club at him, “Teach me?”
Eren licks his lips, trying to find the words to speak but, the look that you’re giving him makes him feel butterflies. “Yeah…come ‘ere..”
You begin with your starting position, y’know the position that has won you regional competitions and a 2nd place in national.
However, you hear Eren scoff. “Don’t know how you’ve been able to pull of holes in one with that position..”
Suddenly, you feel his breath on your neck as he moves your hand up slightly to your upper chest, brushing agains your boobs.
“I don’t want this to be awkward but can you move your hips back ever so slightly..?” Eren chuckles in embarrassment. You do as he says and move your hips back until you feel his crotch against you. “Now, practice your swing without the club…”
Eren was filled with glee as he felt your ass rub up against him while you practiced your swing. “Is this alright?”
“It’s perfect…So fuckin good..”
Your brows furrow and then you finally feel it. His hard cock almost bursting out of his shorts. You didn’t stop your movements, seeing the fun in making him more distracted. He was absolutely mesmerised seeing your ass go back ‘n forth on his crotch.
Suddenly, you stop, sighing with your lips tilted up into a smirk, “I feel like I’m ready now! Thanks for the hel-”
As soon as you tried to walk away, Eren pulled you back against him. You swore you heard his heart beating a thousand times per second, and his cock was still rock hard.
“I can show you a couple more tips.” He whispered in your ear, “Just gotta listen for me, yeah?”
You nod before Eren throws your club onto the ground and pulls you into the kart.
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As soon as you both sneak into the lavish looking bathroom, his lips are on yours. Hungrily making out with you, not giving you a chance to breathe. He gingerly moves you against the wall, giving you more breathless kisses.
He feverishly pulls up your lilac polo top, exposing your stomach and sports bra. Nothing comes to mind as he starts to plant wet kisses along your collarbone.
You try to fondle with his dick through his shorts but Eren wouldn’t let you, deciding he wants to make you feel good before he does.
He sits you on the white, pristine counter, pulling off your shorts in the process. “Fuck, you’re so hot…”, he says in a shushed tone. You can’t help but moan when you feel his hands on you, especially when he begins to rub your clit under your panties.
He starts of slow, achingly slow. All you want is for him to ruin you, rough and hard. But Eren is a tease, he wants you to beg for him.
And, he won’t stop till you do.
Eren feels your slick on his fingers and begins to chuckle. You look so cute like this: a whimpering mess, bucking your hips against his hand. He smirks when he hears you mew small ‘Please, Eren’s and ‘it feels s’ good!’s
“You’re such a pretty girl, huh? You’re doing so- ha- so good for me.” He grins. You see him lower himself, peeling of your panties so he’s at face level with your wet pussy. “What do you want, baby?”
You looked at him with jaded eyes, “I wanna cum..”
He shakes his head, tutting. He looked so different to that sweet boy who cheered you on at the golf course. “Manners, princess. What do you want?”
As he repeats his question, he slides a finger inside you. You moan and it sounds like beautiful to the brunette. You try to regain your voice as he stares into your eyes, blankly as if he was bored.
“I want you to make me cum, please.”
He chuckles again before letting his lips meet with your pussy. Eren takes his time with you, you’re not one of those valley girls that he’s fucked dumb in the past.
You’re different, so why should he treat you like them?
Nothing could be heard in the bathroom but your moans and the sound of your wetness against Eren’s mouth. He lapped his tongue at your clit whilst he continued to fuck you with his fingers, smiling against your sex when your fingers rip through his locks.
“Taste…so good, Y/N…” He muttered. You were so so close, wanting nothing more but to make a mess all over his mouth. Eren knows, he can feel you tightening up. “Gonna cum?”
You nod quickly but just then, he stops.
“Eren-” “Shhh, turn around, show me that ass..”
You do as he says, bending over the desks as he marvels at the curve of your ass behind you. You feel Eren strike your flesh a couple of times in awe before he slides his huge dick inside you.
He groans beside your ear as he hears you gasp, “Oh my fuckk…”
Every stroke feels like he was going deeper, kissing your cervix. His hands traveled to your chest as he lifted the bra revealing your perfect tits. You moan louder as he pounces on your neck again, kissing and biting you whilst his fingers were busy playing with your boobs.
“You knew what you were doing when I was teaching you how to swing, hm?” He chuckles. When he sees you nod, Eren slaps your ass again. “Words.”
“Yes!” you cry.
“You knew that it’d end up with you like this, right? You wanted this.” He asks, earning another ‘yes’ in response. “None of your boyfriends at Trost fucked you like this.”
“N-no! No, they didn’t! Fuck!” You moan. He tilts your head so you can look at the mirror and you finally see Eren, topless. You don’t know when he took of his top, and you were too fucked out to realise. “Shit, you’re so deep in me..”
He smiles at your comment, slapping your ass once more, “I know, sweetheart. Look at you. You pretend to- fuck- be a good girl in front of everyone but now look at you.”
You feel his hand wrapped around your throat as he pulls you back. Eren’s cheek is against yours as you both look at yourself through the mirror. Now, he’s fucking you harder than he did before. Harder and faster.
“You’re such a slut, hm?” He kisses your cheek before speeding up his thrusts. Your moans are louder than ever as he continues to ruin you.
“‘s too big!” It’s scary how croaky your voice sounds. He kisses your crown before leaning your head back and forcing your mouth open with his fingers.
“Stick out your tongue.”
And after you did so, a glob of spit fell from Eren’s lips and landed on your tongue. “Good fuckin’ girl! You close?”
Mistakenly, you nod again earning another harsh smack on your ass. “Yes, I’m close!”
“Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?!” He asks, his thrusts are amazingly fast and Eren’s lips are on your neck again.
The sight of him makes you cum alone, sweaty forehead that makes his hair curl upwards, his toned body and veiny hands gripping onto your waist and his green eyes boring into yours.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you cry out. When you reach your climax, Eren doesn’t stop.
If anything, he thrusts deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. Your whole body shakes in his touch as he whispers the most filthy things in your ear.
“This pussys fuckin’ mine now, you hear me? I’m gonna be the one that makes you a slutty mess. You’re gonna come to me when your horny, yeah? Anytime, baby, just say the word and I won’t wait to fuck you like the whore you are.”
Although you know you shouldn’t, you nod again, your voice is too broken to respond.
He pulls out and grabs you, forcing you onto your knees. Immediately, you let Eren put his thick cock in your mouth, fucking your face just as quickly as he fucked your pussy.
You feel his thrusts get sloppier as you finally see the white ropes of cum shoot out of his cock onto your face. He groans out so many expletives but you’re too busy finishing him off to hear, making him shake at your mouth still sucking him.
Once he’s done reaching his climax, the two of you look at each other for a moment before laughing. You both look a mess, Eren with his mouth red from kissing you so hard and sweaty from…well, fucking you.
You look like a real pornstar, Eren thinks. If it wasn’t for you very obvious ambition in golfing, Eren thinks you’d make a great model.
“We need to get back…” You whisper, “They’re gonna kill us since we left all of the equipment there.”
You stand up and reach down to get your clothes, he helps you dress and dresses himself. Eren takes a tissue and wets it with water before cleaning his cum off your face.
“Next time, I’ll fuck you in the kart. And after that, I’ll fuck you on the field.” He whispers, causing you to giggle.
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miinatozakiii · 9 months
Text
slow dancing
myoui mina x fem!reader
summary: the papers on your desk start to pile up, you want to fight your boss—though time passes and maybe she's not the worst.
wc: 7.1k
warnings: fluff ; mentions of food and alcohol ; not proofread
little side story/continuation: “after hours”
♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ : slow dancing by v
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a/n: not proofread at allllll sorry for mistakes :-(, feeling sleepy.
i love mina i wanna wife her up so bad
-
you're stuck at your stupid desk in this stupidly freezing room because myoui is too stubborn to up the temperature; you're almost shivering.
"it's only finance and accounting, and you'll get paid well." your old boss had said.
"you're probably just going to deal with numbers, shareholders, and other business-related stuff—that's why i recommended you, y/n—it should be a breeze!" your old boss added, making sure to pat your shoulder for comfort (it was anything but comforting, if anything, you felt uneasy).
you were set to work as the assistant of the cfo and coo a couple of months ago; screw your impeccable math proficiency, you think. you didn't want to transfer, you were perfectly fine with where you were and you were really not looking forward to working in such a high rank, you miss your old building and your former coworkers.
the more you sit at your desk, you seem to think you're getting more delusional by the second, it's almost as if you can hear your old coworkers bickering and nudging you.
"y/n~ boss has been eyeing you lately, someone's getting a raise~"
"y/n, y/n, you got a girlfriend yet? c'mon, you're so dull."
"gosh y/n, did you get shorter? man, you also look beat."
you miss san and mingi's stupid presence, even if you wanted to punch them every second you had to be around them.
another groan escapes your lips as you stare at the numbers: they seem to scramble the more you look at them. this is your tenth paper of the day, and you have five more to analyze, you're sick of all of this already.
anyone would want to be working at jyp co, it's one of the biggest companies in the city, and a significant amount of your tech friends, even your old coworkers had dreamt of being able to work in the central building. you'd be much more ecstatic if you actually had friends that worked in the same building. to your dismay, you're stuck with the paperwork that mina has been giving you and stuck with her annoying, stubborn self.
"could you turn up the temperature? it's freezing." you try,
"deal with it, focus on finishing those papers."
"mina you're unbelievable-"
"stop slacking, y/n." and she eyes you, "i'll have you fired."
"you wouldn't," you scoff, "otherwise you'd have to deal with these fucking papers yourself."
"i'm in charge of your paycheck, you do know that?" she quirks a brow, boring into your eyes with her own.
you huff and pick your pen back up, looking down at the papers in front of you.
papers, papers, papers, that's all it is every day. hunched over your desk, shivering the majority of the day (but that's technically on you because you're too stubborn to give in and bring a jacket). mina made your work life difficult, almost insufferable. she was demanding, bossy, snobby, and she just pissed you off.
ever since you started working with her, you've received a significantly larger paycheck and much more employee benefits. furthermore, she was actually good at her job, and you were good at yours too — meaning the meetings you had attended with your reports have all been successful, meaning better profit, better business blah blah blah. sometimes you really considered quitting, even if that meant sacrificing that beautiful paycheck and discounted coffee from the amazing cafe in the building; it's all because of one person, your stupid boss.
you couldn't ever quit. you wouldn't ever admit it but the feeling of being approved and praised after said meetings drove you to keep the numbers up, it made you feel so accomplished and the only thing your old job could give you was two stupidly talkative idiots. this wasn't too bad.
but even with that, mina is going to be the death of you.
-
"how's the new job so far? heard the paycheck up there is pretty good." san nudges.
you roll your eyes and take a sip from the can of beer on the table, "if you're trying to get me to pay for our drinks, it won't work."
"hey! i'm not that heartless." san pouts, and you scoff at him playfully. "anyway, how is your job?"
you let out a big huff and lean back against the chair, "it's something."
"seems like they're working you dry." mingi comments, chuckling at your state.
you had agreed to get drinks with your old coworkers, it was a friday after all and you really needed to let loose a little. you sit next to san, the one who had started your mornings off with rolled eyes and groans when you worked at the old office. beside san sits wooyoung, your college roommate that you were placed with accidentally, but it didn't matter because it ended up in a close bond and friendship between the two of you. your other pretentious ex-coworker mingi sits across from you and beside him is seonghwa, who you aren't as close with, though he's just like the rest so it's never awkward. you think he's pretty cool.
wooyoung smirks, "so, i've heard that the myoui girl is pretty high up there, is she your boss?"
you groan, you don't want to think of her right now. your hand reaches for a shot that mingi had poured earlier and you shoot your head back.
"seems like work is rough." seonghwa comments, looking at you while you lean against san again. seonghwa is right, i mean, you probably look like a mess just coming out of work. your shirt is unbottoned slightly and your hair is a bit messy, you're pretty sure the others can tell how bad your posture has gotten too.
"you know, i've seen a picture of that myoui girl, she's really good looking y/n~ seems like your type." wooyoung teases. you groan again.
"don't even mention her, please." you sigh, "she's working me to death, and she's so fucking annoying. as much as i hate you guys i'd rather be stuck surrounded by you than have to deal with her."
"i see this as an enemies-to-lovers type story." wooyoung snickers, and you glare at him menacingly.
"you're like a little girl," you scoff. the guys just laugh at you.
there's no way you'd ever grow fond of myoui, there is no fucking way you would even fall for her for that matter.
-
"finish this, needs to be done by tomorrow." mina says just before it hits five, just before you get to leave your shared office space.
she actually wants you dead.
you know better than to argue with her, you have to fight the urge to do so as anger starts to spread throughout your body, and the soreness in your shoulders gets worse.
"okay," you say in defeat.
for a split second mina almost looks at you with pity, with some regret at the sight of your lifeless expression—only for a split second—yet she continues to type at her laptop.
you might start aging a little faster with the way she's working you, you can already feel the back pain catching up to you.
-
it's necessary for you to get along, and sure you act like you do in those meetings, but you really have to try and get along even if might end with someone's tooth missing. it's only the most important part of collaborating, it's crucial when your job requires the two of you to work together.
it takes a while to warm up or even start to get friendly with each other, though a certain meeting helps speed this process.
you and mina had been in charge of representing your own company and presenting the financial analytics to the shareholders. something in the air seemed to make them think that they were entitled enough to question and criticize mina as if she couldn't take away a good amount of their shares in a second.
one man seems to be so in shock it gives him the nerve to comment on your presentation which quite literally proved the two of you had been doing well with your work.
he sneers, "and we're supposed to believe you did all of this? sorry, it's just unbelievable, i've never seen a y'know... someone like you two." and you already know he's implying that he doesn't believe all this success could happen because you two are women. it makes you furious.
"if you're going to try to question mina like that at least be direct, don't sugarcoat it like a coward." you scoff, glaring at the man in the suit. his stupid face had already looked unpleasing to you, even if he hadn't said anything you could've guessed that he would doubt your success.
"women don't usually achieve this much you know? it's impressive that you're even able to have such a high position," he chuckles, almost challenging you. a few of the men who sit around the conference table seem to smile at his words, it makes you bite the inside of your cheek, and you're hold yourself back from almost leaping across the table and strangling his pretentious self.
"are you doubting myoui's work?" you inquire, gripping the table tighter and mina is taken aback by your sudden shift in tone.
"well," one of the men starts, "from the recent reports, it seems like you've been handling these tasks a bit poorer than before, you sure a lady like you can-"
"i'll have you fucking fired if one more word like that comes out your dirty mouth, you hear me? you should watch your mouth when you talk like that around me or mina, you do know what we can do with your shares no?" and the words come out of your mouth and shoot at the man in front of you like daggers laced with poison. "mina is more than capable, and working with her has always resulted in success for this company."
"look, we all can agree that we just want to ensure that the profits are up and the company's growth and success is guaranteed."
"insulting and questioning those who have power over your investments is your way of ensuring that? if you continue with this behavior, don't be surprised if your positions under this company become rather precarious." you finally warn, and the men seem to finally get the message when you say it with such resentment.
mina is in complete shock as she watches you from her seat, she's never seen you so pissed off before, she has never pissed you off like that. despite initially being taken aback by your bold defense, she finds herself feeling a mix of emotions, even slightly amused by your new, assertive tone.
the tension in the room eases slightly as the meeting continues, and you continue to present your analytics and suggest various ideas regarding the company and its gains. from that moment on, the shareholders are more cautious with their comments and remarks, as they should be.
the meeting ends with the men tensed up in their seats, nodding politely at you and feeling small under your gaze as they bid their farewells. you're happy with the new mood of the room.
the atmosphere seems more delicate when they leave.
"thanks." mina mutters softly, putting a few papers in her folder. she doesn't make eye contact with you. "you could've let them voice their concerns, you know."
"they weren't concerned, they were just being snobby." you respond, helping her with the papers that had been spread across the conference table. "i hated hearing them talking about you like that." you mutter in a small voice, and mina looks up at you, showing a new emotion of surprise.
she looks at you while you close the folder, a split second later you set your gaze on her so the two of you are now making eye contact. the mood of the room changes, it's softer, it's less overwhelming.
"i," mina starts, but finds herself at a loss of words for a moment. she looks at you, just gazing at you for a bit and her voice is small when she mutters her last response. "thanks."
mina breaks the eye contact and moves over to grab the folder from your hand, walking past you and out the door. there are no last words exchanged, just small, significant glances.
she decides that she can let you off the hook a little.
-
mina's fondness for you grows and it's unpredictable, it comes out of nowhere. it's been developing since that meeting.
it grows when she sees your eyes light up after taking a sip from your coffee—you always get three a day, mina notes—two hot coffees in the morning and before work ends, one iced during lunch. she also notices that you've been eating less, and she feels guilty because it's all from the work she gives you. she cuts your workload in half, and she even leaves you a small bakery item here and there (but she makes sure that you won't guess it's from her).
mina catches the small smile you give her when she decreases the amount of work she had given you. the way your lips curve up just barely is different from your usual lifeless expression, it's different and mina decides she wants to see it more.
it sends a shiver down her spine.
-
maybe wooyoung was right about your boss being a nice sight.
you hate it.
you've seen mina smile a total of three times so far, you remember each time clearly.
1.
walking out of the building you see mina approach three women, they don't look like they work there. you almost ignore it, i mean, you're tired and you really don't want mina to be the last thing you see after work.
what changes your mind is that grin of hers.
you catch it from the corner of your eyes, you almost miss it, and as much as you hate to admit it—it's beautiful. she smiles and it's a gummy one, it's terribly charming. she smiles with her eyes too, they almost shut as one of the women hugs her.
your eyes meet for a second and you quickly shift your gaze over to someplace else, it makes you nervous, makes you fiddle your thumbs.
that's strange, you think.
2.
mina picks up her phone—not the work phone on her desk, but her mobile one. her eyes ease at the contact name, and she seems to soften up as she answers.
"hi mom," she starts. you make sure to look away before she can catch you glancing—you don't want to listen to her voice as she scolds you for eavesdropping or not working on the papers in front of you.
you hear the faint sound of her talking for the next two minutes, and you manage to peek at the right time. mina nods her head a couple more times before giggling softly into the phone,
"yeah yeah, don't worry mom." she says, grinning. "i'll call you back tonight, i have to finish work. yes, mhm, i love you too. bye."
cute.
3.
mina watches you enter the shared office, the same bag slung across you and a cup of coffee in your hand. your hair is held up by a claw clip, some strands of your hair poking out, but regardless, you still manage to look business casual.
you stroll in and hang your bag, then stroll over to your desk where the computer is. before you reach your work area, your feet seem to stumble and you trip over the air somehow, it catches you by surprise and you let out a curse.
luckily, you catch yourself and don't fall over completely, but your coffee slips in your hands and now you have to buy a new shirt because now, there's a clear stain on your beige shirt.
"fuck," you mutter in defeat, and you rush for the napkins that sit on your desk.
mina had witnessed the whole scene, and she couldn't suppress the giggles that left her mouth.
you frown—mina laughs harder.
"is this amusing to you?" you groan. your eyes are furrowed as mina smiles widely at you, for some reason the frown on your lips seems to curve up into a small smile.
"very." mina snickers, "made my morning, thanks."
"i absolutely resent you."
"i'm flattered."
you roll your eyes at her.
(maybe you should start spilling coffee more often, if it means seeing mina laugh like that.)
-
the two of you warm up to each other.
annoyed looks in the morning turn into small "good mornings," and maybe you'd bicker here and there, you'd even complain over nothing sometimes just to talk to her, but nothing more than that, not really.
it's hard to start a conversation when papers are piling next to you everyday, it's hard to even exchange words. mina's quiet personality makes it even more difficult, and you're too timid to make eye contact with her, there's a strange sensation that's brewing in your stomach—not that you're going to throw up—but it makes you nervous, and fidgety.
-
wednesday, november 8th. — 4:01 am
y/n:
feeling bad
sick
i won't be there
just send me whatever it is that you need me to do
mina stares at the text for a bit, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she rubs her eyes and tries to read it. her phone had interrupted her slumber—much to her aggravation—at four in the morning. the loud ding was enough to make her groan at the ungodly hour, rolling around to squint at the light from her phone. the young woman rubs her eyes and processes the text as she reads it, sighing to herself.
she actually takes a moment to think about the text, even if she's half awake. mina wonders if she worked you too hard—her heart sinks.
as much as she detested you, she was genuinely concerned. her coworker whom she would argue with over the temperature of their shared office (mina would never admit it, but she actually found it a bit cold too, she was just stubborn), almost smiling when seeing you so frustrated. it was amusing to mess with you (maybe she was a bit cruel for that, but you looked cute when you were annoyed).
mina groans and drops her phone on the bed next to her, returning to her slumber.
-
you stir awake from your sleep, shifting a bit in your place even while you're still half awake. your eyes flutter open and everything hits you all at once.
the ringing in your head is deathly, as if a hundred tiny, teeny men were in your skull just whacking at it with their hammers. your whole body is trembling, the room feels even colder than the office you work in, it's unbearable.
everything is sore, everything hurts, everything is terrible.
the only thing you remember from last night was groggily changing into the orange sweater san had given you as a joke—the one with those ridiculous cats on it—regardless, you wore it in the comfort of your own home because it was incredibly cozy, even if it looked stupid.
the ding-dong sound that's heard makes your head hurt even more; your eyes close and your hand moves to cover your forehead, you mutter something under your breath.
you walk over to the mirror and run a hand through your hair, trying to make yourself look at least a little presentable for whoever it is at your apartment door at nine in the morning on a wednesday. your feet drag on the floor of your hallway when you walk out of your room and toward the entrance to your apartment, trudging over to the doorknob. your hand weakly supports yourself by pressing against the wall while you turn at the knob.
the door opens and the sight of mina temporarily eases the ringing in your head.
mina looks incredibly normal, it's a rare sight.
she wears a white t-shirt with a denim jacket over it and she wears baggy jeans with simple white sneakers to finish the look. you're distracted from the drowsy, sore feeling as you stare at the casually dressed woman, who's also holding a brown bag in one hand, her phone in the other.
mina looks normal; no blazer or button-up, no skirt or dress pants, no clicky heels or work shoes, she looks less insufferable.
you like it.
"did you not get my text?" you say, voice rough and weak.
"did you just wake up?" she asks while studying you. mina notices that you seem half awake, eyes squinting and shoulders slumped. to add to that, your hair is messy and you look like you blindly chose whatever you were wearing. mina notices the way you lean against the door frame for support—you look drained.
"it's only nine in the morning or something," you groan, rubbing your eyes. "shouldn't you be at work?"
"y/n," mina starts, "it's 5:40."
"pm?"
"y/n," mina sighs, pushing the door open and inviting herself in.
mina takes a look around the apartment, it's bigger than a standard one, and it's actually kind of cozy. the interior design is nice, you have good taste in decor and arrangement. mina glances at the framed pictures of you posing with others, and the abstract artwork she has hung up. there's a certain something that catches mina's eyes: the white shelf that displays various leego sets, ranging from flowers to small buildings. there's at least five sets there, and mina knows they're the time-consuming ones too.
mina's interest grows.
it's dim in the apartment, and mina wonders how sick you must be for you to think it was nine in the morning.
"you're just going to invite yourself into my house?" you question, watching mina as she kicks off her sneakers, though she places them on your shoe rack nicely, so you're not as bothered. mina doesn't exchange any words as she hangs her denim jacket on the hook nearby, then fixes her shirt. the dark-haired woman looks at you and you furrow your brows, your facial expression mixed with exhaustion and puzzlement.
"mina, what are you doing here?" you ask again, trying your best to sound stern. mina doesn't respond; instead, she walks over to the small kitchen island to place the brown bag that she held in her hand on it. you sigh, "if you're here to give me paperwork while i can barely stand up, i'm actually kicking you out—and i mean i'm going to physically carry you out i swear to-
"like you can even get to me without holding onto something." mina scoffs, taking out a container from the bag. you walk over to mina, holding onto the counter for support and studying her.
mina points to the stool next to the counter and says, "sit."
you listen.
one thing about mina is that she had power over you, and as stubborn as you tried to seem—you always listened. mina always had the upper hand. as much as you bickered with mina, you listened (after complaining), because mina knew what she was doing and she always knew how to do things well.
you sit at the counter and watch mina fetch a bowl from your dishwasher, almost as if this were her house too. she poured whatever was in the plastic container she brought into the bowl, then pushed the bowl towards you, grabbing chopsticks and a spoon.
"eat," mina says, almost ordering you. she looks at you with a sense of care in her eyes.
you stare at the bowl and move your quivering hand to grab the chopsticks, picking up the udon noodles and eating them slowly.
the taste of the soup makes your whole body relax, and you seem to gain some of your energy back—you start eating ravenously—as if this were your first meal in days.
"thanks." you murmur weakly, looking up at mina with gratitude.
mina almost smiles, jaw clenching.
"don't get too sick," mina begins, "i can't do all the work in the office, and i guess it's kind of boring without you." she admits. her head turns away bashfully as her cheeks start to flush.
you look at her with raised brows, your cheeks feel warm—maybe it was your cold. mina avoids any further eye contact before walking back to the hook she had hung her jacket on, and then putting on her shoes.
"i'll see you… take care of yourself." her tone is so soft, even if she had tried to sound stern and cold.
you nearly smile.
and with that, she leaves. you sit there, hardly processing anything.
mina had come to your home, given you something to eat, and she was actually sweet to you.
-
y/n:
thank you again
i appreciate it
i hadn't eaten all day before that
can't believe you're capable of being sweet
mina:
don't get used to it
you're an idiot for getting sick
y/n:
you're an idiot for coming to my place while i'm sick
mina:
i don't get sick so easily unlike someone
y/n:
whatever
stupid
mina:
i was just making sure you didn't die
i can't do everything by myself
i need someone to look over my papers
y/n:
you're cruel
i'm sick and dying and you treat me like this?
mina:
oh save it,
i know you're feeling better
my mom's recipe always works
y/n:
i hate to admit
it does
how did you even get my address?
mina:
you're stupid
everyone's address and number are accessible to me
i'm the coo remember?
you're probably too sick to remember
and stupid
y/n:
i'll cough on you
mina:
gross
y/n
goodnight mina, i'll be back tomorrow most likely
mina
if you feel bad don't come
i don't want you contaminating the others
and me
mina:
feel better
...
mina:
goodnight y/n.
-
you come back to work feeling better, mina's eyes seem to light up a bit at the sight of you walking in through the door.
something new is forming, your affection for each other grows, and a friendship starts to build.
-
mina checks her phone, it's almost five. the group chat had been busy whilst she was typing away.
before she checks the messages, her gaze shifts up to see you at your desk, your eyes darting from paper to paper as you analyze and mark them. mina holds back a small smile.
(37 new messages)
sana:
did miss ceo forget about tonight?
women at work
momo:
maybe you should start working like that
you seem to always be on your phone with how quick you respond
and how much you type
sana:
you're just jealous
momo:
hardly
jihyo:
please refrain.
my phone is blowing up, sana
nayeon:
ohh jihyo will kill you
sana:
what about momo and nayeon?
she was texting too :((
jihyo:
she texted twice
nayeon responded once
you, however,
sana:
:'(
mina:
you really do text a lot sana
sana:
mina!
our little businesswoman
if you forgot about tonight i swear...
mina:
i didn't don't worry
nayeon:
hey myoui
mina:
?
nayeon:
you should invite your little work rival
sana:
aww her little work crush?
what was her name...
y/n?
mina:
stop that
i don't like her
jihyo:
you brought soup to her apartment instead of getting coffee with us
momo:
you can't defend this one
even hyo agrees
mina:
i have to finish work.
please refrain from blowing up my phone
sana:
minas got a girlfriend
minas got a girlfriend~
nayeon:
i see you
"you seem to be interested in that phone." you scoff, stretching your arms out. "what happened to 'no distractions, do your work,' huh?"
mina narrows her eyes at you, putting down her phone. you laugh softly and finish stretching, putting your papers in the beige folder and shutting down your computer.
"you're done?" mina challenges, quirking a brow. it's 4:40, twenty minutes before you can officially leave.
"did you forget? i told you i had to be somewhere." you remind her, already putting on your jacket and slinging walking over to reach for your bag. mina nearly pouts as you make your way to where your bag is hung. "i'll see you next week, boss." you say, smiling softly, raising your brows at her before leaving the room.
mina frowns when you're out of sight.
-
mina emerges from the hall of her apartment in dress pants, a black tank top, and her gray coat over it—something casual yet eye-catching for the jazz cafe and bar she's practically being forced to go to. mina has on some light makeup, just some light blush on her cheeks, a peach shade of lipstick, and something light around the eyes. it's casual, it's fit for the occasion.
sana and jihyo, who had been conversing in the living room, turn around after hearing their friend's footsteps. sana beams and stands up to hug her,
"wow~ you look great minari." she giggles, "trying to impress someone?"
mina rolls her eyes, then smiles at her teasing, sana laughs in response. jihyo shakes the keys in her hand, quirking a brow and signaling that they should get going. the two women follow jihyo to the entrance of mina's place, put on their shoes and head out.
they arrive near the jazz spot twenty minutes later, though it's a bit of a hassle trying to find good parking around the area since it's in the heart of the lively city on a friday night—jihyo curses under her breath and it makes sana and mina giggle at her complaints.
they all walk on the sidewalk together, and the breeze of the cool night is refreshing, the air is filled with low chatter and the street lights highlight mina's features. the trio approaches the cafe and mina breathes in through her nose; it smells like coffee beans, and there's that faint scent of alcohol and maybe a cigarette or two.
the cafe/bar is dim, there's a slow hum of the music that fills the room, and it fits the ambience. couples stand hand in hand, glasses make a sound as they clink, and friends laugh together; it gives the scene a warm, lively feeling—mina really likes the environment, it's not overwhelming and it's nice to be in a place where the lights don't flash and the music doesn't make her ears ring.
two familar faces are seen at the table in the back, the two women have already purchased some light drinks. nayeon's face lights up at the sight of the trio, her bunny-toothed grin is contagious and it spreads to the others. momo waves and pats down at the space on the couch she lounges on, sana scoots over and sits down right next to the woman, leaning into her. mina and jihyo sit together on another lounge chair, the group already starts to converse and catch up. mina starts to warm up to the night.
the room seems to fall into silence a few moments later.
the chatter dies down and only faint whispers are heard, the slow hum of the music seems to die down as well. the group turns their attention to where everyone else's is: the small stage where three men seem to set up their instruments. mina thinks this must be the main event of the night.
the three men settle down in their places, situating themselves and fumbling with their respective instruments in hand. mina's interest piques when she sees the empty microphone stand placed under the small spotlight—it seems to be unoccupied—is there supposed to be a vocalist?
the men all look at each other and the one holding a guitar taps at his instrument once, twice, and a third time.
the music starts.
mina notices the slow percussion, it sets the tempo of the slow song. the drummer nods his head along with the beat, and the man on the keys seems to emphasize the romantic tune with the keyboard. the bassist ties the instrumental together, his fingers work at the strings to create a soft, smooth rhythm.
each musician plays a certain role in the song, and the elements from all of the men add up together to create a soft, slow melody —though it's more rnb sounding rather than jazz—but she enjoys it nonetheless.
nothing could've prepared mina for what she had seen next.
a familiar face stumbles onto the stage holding a microphone, smiling at the crowd who cheers calmly, quietly enough so that it doesn't drown the sound of the performers. the performer wears the same trousers that she had worn in the office before departing, but her top is a different color—it's gray and it's unbuttoned down to your abdomen, your white top being visible to the crowd—mina is surprised to say the least, the last person she'd expect to see on stage was you.
the instrumental continues for a few, short seconds, then you start to sing.
it's about time we get it straight
gimme a minute if it ain't too late
mina's lips part slightly as she watches you in awe: you're lost in the melody, singing with your eyes closed, hands holding the mic as if they were something you cherished so dearly, you're evidently enjoying yourself.
"she's good." jihyo comments, nodding her head to the slow tempo.
the instrumental starts to shift into the chorus, and your voice is groundbreaking.
maybe we
could be
slow dancing
until the morning
we could be romancing
the night away
mina seems to have fallen into your trance.
you're completely lost in the music, the whole crowd is in awe as you clutch the microphone and sing into it softly, eyes creasing gently as you tap your foot to the tempo. your head sways to the melody, your body following slowly.
her eyes are glued on you, and there's nothing that could pull them away at this point. your voice is soft and warming, it's obvious that you sing with passion, you sing from the heart. she's attentive to your every move, emotion, and expression—she's captivated by your charm.
you stop singing once the song reaches its last chorus, and you smile at the astonished crowd. your gaze lands on the bassist's eyes, who's nodding his head in sync with you; the two of you exchange a lighthearted chuckle.
your eyes scan the crowd, taking in their satisfaction. there's a couple that slow dances along with the rhythm, another couple that's hand in hand, watching you and smiling; it makes your heart flutter that you're able to create such a loving atmosphere, it makes you wish you had someone to do the same with.
your whole body almost freezes when your gaze lands on the familiar face: myoui mina. your ears shift back slightly, eyes widening and brows raising as you spot her sitting with three familiar faces—the ones that you had seen when you witnessed her first smile.
you almost give into your nerves, you almost freeze in your spot, but the slow melody lets you relax a little, and there's no tension in the air right now, just the sound of a couple of instruments coming together to play a melody that soothes your nerves.
you smile softly at mina; mina smiles back.
your hearts seem to skip a beat at the same time.
-
when the song ends, you take in the sweet applause of the crowd, thanking them and bowing. as soon as you can leave you make your way off the platform and find yourself backstage, sitting on the couch and sipping on some water.
"that was perfect y/n," san cheers, patting you on the back as you ease yourself into the couch. your smile grows and you nod,
"thanks, san, you nailed the bass," you respond as san sits down next to you.
"i'm flattered, but seriously, you sounded like an angel." san adds. a laugh is shared between the two of you before the other two exchange compliments. mingi pretends to blush at wooyoungs little remark, and it brings you back to the late nights spent rehearsing together.
"by the way y/n, who was that girl you were smiling at? you know her?" mingi questions you and you already feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks.
"i-, no, um." you stutter, and you immediately give up as soon as your words come out stumbled. san nudges you and smirks,
"someone's got a girlfriend~"
"shut up shut up." you groan, punching his shoulder.
mingi snickers again, "so who is she?"
"fuck man," you sigh, shutting your eyes tight and pinching the bridge of your nose. "that was my boss."
"are you serious?" they all say in unison, and it's almost like they're telepathically connected and synced with the way their tones are identical. you seem to sink into the couch more as they pester you.
-
you're able to finally escape those three men (who, you might add, are teenage girls at the heart with the way they squeal and giggle when you talk about mina.), you find yourself at a counter, waiting for someone to assist you.
"i didn't know you could sing." a voice says, and you shoot your head towards the woman who starts to sit down in the chair next to you.
mina doesn't make eye contact, she just stares forward with her lips barely turned up. she looks absolutely ravishing, you're in awe yourself at the sight of her like this. it's casual, but it still makes a statement—you're into that.
"it's just a hobby," you reply. mina laughs delicately, it's almost drowned out by the chatter and music playing, but you're glad you caught it. she turns to face you and there a warm sensation that distributes throughout your body.
mina looks beautiful—no, she is beautiful—and you're noticing it all right now, it's almost overwhelming.
"you should've told me about your hobby sooner, y/n. i wish i'd known earlier about how pretty your voice is."
your heart almost stops, you can only nod bashfully.
a barista, or bartender (you don't really know, it's a weird fusion of a place.) makes their way over and it soothes you a bit, breaking the heavy tension in the air.
"what can i get for you two?" he asks, smiling at you two.
"i'll have a chai latte, hot please." mina responds. it takes a moment for you to dart your eyes away from her face, but you manage.
"i'll just have the lychee soda please, iced."
"alright, coming right up." he begins, "by the way, your performance was beautiful."
you nod with gratitude and mina laughs at your nervousness.
"when do you perform again?" mina asks, looking you in the eye. shes leaning towards you now, elbow on the counter and her cheek resting on her palm. your heart might be beating out of your chest.
"i thought you hated me," you note playfully, "you gonna give me papers after i perform next time?" and you mirror her, putting both elbows on the counter and resting your chin on your knuckles. mina laughs playfully, easing the tension in the air.
"i don't hate you, y/n." mina begins, "i just wasn't used to working with anyone else."
you nod.
"and that stupid office is just overwhelming sometimes, i was fond of your work ethic ever since you started," she admits. mina looks away apprehensively. "i hate to admit it, but i'm starting to like you more."
your smile grows. "i think i'm starting to feel the same way, myoui."
the two of you exchange eye contact again, a new feeling and connection being shared. it's exciting, it's scary.
"your drinks," the bartender says, placing the two cups on the table and breaking the anticipation in the air. you thank him and take a sip from the soda, brows furrowing a little from the sweet taste. mina thinks you get cuter by the second.
...
"do you have a ride home?" you ask her, halfway through your small conversation.
"my friend drove me here." mina answers, sipping from the mug again.
the truth is, mina's friends had nudged her over to where you were after finding out that you're the person she's been eyeing at work. she's ninety-nine percent sure her friends have completely left her; her assumptions are proven right after checking her messages for a brief moment.
mina stares at the mug in her hands. "but i think they left early."
"i can drive you home then, boss," you suggest. mina laughs at your remark,
"don't call me that outside of work, or ever—it's weird." she sighs, shaking her head.
"is that a yes?" you ask—just to be sure.
mina nods at you with a warm smile.
-
the car ride is almost silent, except for the light sound of the music playing in your car.
mina stares out the window of the passenger side, gazing at the buildings that the car passes and the strangers on the street who walk hand in hand.
mina wouldn't mind if the two of you ended up like that.
the car reaches mina's place, and you shift the stick to park.
"mina," you mumble softly—she hums in response, quirking a brow up whilst looking at you. the hand on the steering wheel grips it tighter and your flushed cheeks are hidden by the night.
"let's get coffee tomorrow?"
mina almost short-circuits.
"i'd like that," she says gently, and her grin turns into that same gummy smile that you'd seen the first time. the two of you sit there for a moment, nodding to yourselves while our hearts race each other, beating at an irregular pace.
mina unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the doorknob, then gets out of the car. before she closes the door, she manages to speak again despite her nervousness that courses through her veins.
"pick me up at one?"
"yes, boss."
"don't call me that." mina groans playfully, and you simply snicker.
mina closes the door and starts to walk away from the car, but before she gets too distant, you roll down the window.
"goodnight mina, sleep well," you speak loudly, just enough for her to turn, and the light shines bright enough and you're extremely thankful that it lets you see her gummy smile again.
"goodnight y/n, i'll see you." she waves. her face warms up a little, and she shakes her head as she walks away.
maybe working with mina isn’t too bad.
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"I'm the only one who should beat you, freshman"
BUTTERFLIES. ACTUAL BUTTERFLIES IMAGINING THIS OAFNAKNFALKNLAF CRAZY CRAZY. For some reason my mc can beat everyone in a match (emerson, jacks, tobin and deepal, the doubles match against emily and her partner) BUT SHE CANT BEAT RAYYAN AND DEEPAL AND IM JUST SO??? RAYYAN. honestly i accept it as the canon dont need to win everytime, only rayyan is allowed to beat her ❤️
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Bwahahaha love these!! ❤️ also omg I actually love the fact that your MC can't win against deepal-rayyan. That's kind of dope, narrative wise.
I'm imagining an interview when MC goes pro. The question is about toughest opponents.
MC doesnt even have to think about it. The corners of their lips turn up immediately. "You know, I've beaten just about everyone in singles and doubles except ONE doubles pair."
The interviewer shifts forward in their seat, amused and genuinely shocked. "And who's this doubles pair that the legendary <player name> can't beat?"
"Rayyan goddamn Afiq and Deepal fuckin' Chowdhuri," MC declares. "Never beat 'em. Not once."
The interviewer is only more intrigued than ever. "Afiq, sure. The two of you have had the most epic rivalry--a rivalry for the ages--but ... Deepal?" Their eyebrows knit together, and MC can tell theyre trying to phrase the question, "who's that" in the most tactful way possible.
"Deepal's one of the best tennis players I've had the honor to play against in college. But like the coward they are," MC's lips curl upwards even further. "They ran off and graduated before I could get a chance to beat them."
The interviewer barks out an actual laugh at this, looking delighted. "Well. We can't have that. Ms./mr. Chowdhuri, if you're watching, consider this a gauntlet thrown."
MC flashes a toothy grin. Deepal had graduated college with honors and was now CFO of a very promising sillicon valley tech start-up. "Deepal and Afiq, I'm coming for you."
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mckitterick · 11 months
Text
Let the Platforms Burn
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Tumblr is seeing massive growth thanks to the implosion of Twitter and Reddit. but migrating here or elsewhere means starting all over from the beginning, which is why users so seldom make the leap away from much-despised platforms (can you say "Facebook")
in his important new piece, Cory Doctorow argues that we need to fundamentally change the way social media and other user-content platforms operate, and give users the power to easily migrate their content and connections from site to site
he argues we need to let bad platforms burn (using the metaphor of healthy fires that clear out dangerous underbrush, preventing destructive wildfires) to make room for new, better ones without punishing users for escaping social-media prison
full piece (and podcast version) here: X
a few choice excerpts:
Today's tech giants run "walled gardens" that are actually walled prisons that entrap their billions of users by imposing high switching costs on them. How did that happen? How did tech become "five giant websites filled with screenshots from the other four?"
The answer lies in the fact that tech was born as antitrust was dying. Reagan hit the campaign trail the same year the Apple ][+ hit shelves. With every presidency since, tech has grown more powerful and antitrust has grown weaker (the Biden administration has halted this decay, but it must repair 40 years' worth of sabotage).
This allowed tech to "merge to monopoly." Google built a single successful product – a search engine – and then conquered the web by buying other peoples' companies, even as their own internal product development process produced a nearly unbroken string of flops. Apple buys 90 companies a year – Tim Cook brings home a new company more often than you bring home a bag of groceries.
When Facebook was threatened by an upstart called Instagram, Mark Zuckerberg sent a middle-of-the-night email to his CFO defending his plan to pay $1b for the then-tiny company, insisting that the only way to secure eternal dominance was to eliminate competitors – by buying them out, not by being better than them. As Zuckerberg says, "It is better to buy than compete"
it's great that we're seeing such a reinvigorment of Tumblr, but this site's delight could evaporate overnight with some bad updates (presaged in recent corporate messages). better than hoping Tumblr might stay good forever is ensuring we can leave without losing everything - and knowing we can leave would help prevent the enshittification of our beloved Hellsite
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csuitebitches · 1 year
Note
On your becoming more well read: what are some reliable somewhat accurate news apps you’d recommend? Also can you make a post on books to read?
The reality is that no media is fully reliable. There’s no such thing as fully accurate reporting. The best we can do is read everything with a pinch of salt.
The next bit could be a little controversial but it is something everyone needs to hear.
In order to form opinions, you must be able to read and consume all sides and spectrums.
That means reading left wing AND right wing news, no matter how aggravating either are.
You can’t tell good journalism from bad journalism unless and until you’ve experienced both. The same way, you cannot form opinions about a certain topic until you’ve seen all major sides to the topic.
Having said that:
News:
* Annual Review (website) : academic articles, short academic articles, popular articles
* CNA Luxury (website) : all things lifestyle, luxury, fashion, food, living
* BBC
* CNN
* Fox News
* Medium (for personal opinions and weird reads)
* Bloomberg
* Wall Street journal
* Yahoo finance
* New York Times
* Google news app (great if you want to quickly consume news without spending too much time)
* The rest are specific to my native country and my native language
Newsletters:
* Bloomberg open and close (markets and finance)
* Emerging tech brew (technology)
* Morningbrew
* CFO brew (because I’m interested in finance)
* Seedtable (this is the best newsletter you could subscribe to if you wanted to subscribe to just one. It’s business and entrepreneurship related but it’s very diverse- biotech, healthcare, money… it’s fabulous. A man called Gonz Sanchez sends the newsletter).
* A couple of others which are personal and selective because I belong to a certain HNI business organisation because of my family
Being well read doesn’t just meaning the act of reading in today’s world. You have to know things, people and communities.
Other methods:
I’m constantly on the look out for events, conferences and networking opportunities. Regardless of whether it’s virtual or in person (I appreciate both). The said organisation I’m a part of arranges some of the best, most influential personalities in the world to come and talk (I attended a business conference where Mona Kattan spoke; another one where Terry Crews spoke about failures; so you get my point about how big these things are).
If you don’t know where to start, I’d say start with asking your bank. Banks in my country tend to host events, lectures and conferences and as your account grows, your access to selective conferences gets stronger.
Another avenue is work; college; university, you know the usual. Ask your boss if they know of any work related conferences happening.
Look up online to see what’s happening as well in your city. Museums often host events too.
Try attending a wide range of events - art, classical music, finance, motivational speaking, history, religion - it will shape you up a lot.
Charity/ volunteer work is another solid way. You need to interact with a lot of people. Choose what you truly like - is it nature, animals, children, old people, education? Do what you gravitate to naturally. And do it because you genuinely want to help, not just for networking and brownie points.
And I’ll definitely make a reading list sometime :)
Edit: I’ve created a free newsletter with the intention of making you well-read with minimal effort on your side. Sign up here! Launch: 8th January 2023.
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galaxysharks · 8 months
Text
Office Au.
Wildcat Youth Employment program. High school students intern as a collective at a local office to gain real world experience for credit.
Directors/Coaches
Miss Jenn - in charge of Sales and Marketing Teams
Mr. Mazzara - in charge of Tech and Building Events Teams
Dewey - Building Facilities Manager
Teams
Sales
EJ Caswell - being the CFOs son has it's perks, as evidenced by EJs immediate inclusion to the program. Make no mistake though, EJ has more than earned his keep, quickly proving to be the best young salesman in the programs history and leading the team to record breaking profits. EJ has since joined the company full time, following his graduation. When not in the field, EJ likes to hang out with his former unit, giving out tips and tricks of the trade.
Gina Porter - with the leave of EJ, Gina has finally claimed the top spot in Sales. Unfortunately now she has to acclimate the new blood while being short-staffed after Nini's transfer to the California office. And if that weren't hard enough, the student leader of Building Events is proving a persistent distraction.
Mack Alana - Mack has recently been offered a position in the program. His simulation numbers were fantastic, but he's a little out of touch with what really makes a salesman. He'll have to buckle down if he's to survive Gina's intense training, and his natural charm won't work on every sucker on the street.
Former
Nini Salazar Roberts - While not as competitive as Gina, Nini maintained a respectable lead in sales for several months. Nini has since transferred to a sister office in California, coinciding with her move to pursue music in her spare time.
Marketing
Valerie Donnelly - Like EJ, Val has moved up the ranks to the company proper. While not as involved as EJ, Val takes pride in her mentoring role and is always just a text away. Which might be necessary if Miss Jenn can't cut through the drama and whip these kids into shape.
Kourtney Greene - Having been in the program for a few years, Kourt is logically the next in line for Student Leader. Bold and Beautiful, Kourtney knows what works and how to make it work for you. There's just one problem, Kourtney is graduating in a few months and she's not sure if the company offer is where she's meant to go. This on top of wrangling the large personalities on her team have made this season more stressful than anticipated.
Carlos Rodriguez - Out and Proud, Carlos tends to fill every room he's in. High class, high maintenance, the office Instagram Page looks good and Carlos would kill before letting someone else touch his baby. Carlos operates as the Student officer of Diversity, and previously spent two seasons as Miss Jenn's shadow. In a loving relationship with Seb from Building Events.
Ashlyn Caswell - as the name implies, Ash is also a legacy member, but while her cousin shines flexing his skills and seeing the sights in the field, Ashlyn much prefers the view from her desk. Surrounded by her chosen family, Ashlyn is a stable and reliable member of the team, even if she did get a rough start with Val. Now if only she didn't get stuck with the computer most prone to breakdown.
Dani Cantrall - Like Mack, Dani is a new select from the class runner ups. She has good instincts, and brings a respectable following right out the gate. But it's her abrasive personality and short temper that's going to put her to the test.
Former
Lily Keegan - Lily was once a promising addition to the marketing team, but quickly proved a toxic influence. Miss Jenn asked her to leave after her snapshot 'Autism in the Workplace' nearly got the team, and the company itself, in hot water with the press.
Building Events
Ricky Bowen - How Richard Bowen qualified for the student outreach program is still a mystery. Constantly late, and shamelessly careless, many outside observers have wondered how he's maintained his offer, let alone achieved Student Leader. But his work speaks for itself, dozens and dozens of successful events on the books. Ricky has a unique ability to get the many divisions to work together in harmony. Now if only he could manage to organize his life enough to ask out the superstar Saleswoman Gina.
Sebastian Matthews Smith - Strong and reliable, Seb's slowlife mentality makes him an asset in the whirlwind of the office. While not always the most intuitive, Seb is highly skilled at the routines of event set up and breakdown. Seb spends most breaks in the Marketing office with his partner Carlos.
Jet Curda-Lyles - Jet is new to the Building Events team. Low energy and snarky, Jet doesn't speak often, but makes sure he's heard when he does. Hired on with his sister, he can sometimes feel like he's living in the shadow of her savant gifts with technology. Some unknown drama with the siblings can make meeting tense, but both are first to defend each other. Spends breaks dozing in the lounge or sitting with his sister's service dog, JJ.
Tech Support
Maddox Curda-Lyles - Maddox has a gift, and can make any technology sing. Now if only she was so talented at communicating with people. JJ is Maddie's constant companion, providing support and protection from the outside world. Maddox has quickly risen up ranks and become the Student Leader. Rumor has it, the company is looking to scout her early into their ranks. Not that Maddie's noticed, she's got her eye on a certain Marketing Student, with unfortunate luck with computers.
Big Red Redonovich - While Maddox has a natural agility with tech, Biggie earned his way over several seasons. Sweet and gentle, Big Red is everyone's friend, though he does clash with the foreign exchange employee Antoine. Big Red and Ricky were scouted together, with some saying that Ricky only made it in due to Red refusing to leave him behind.
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billthedrake · 2 years
Text
THE BULL (PART ONE)
1
Kevin bobbed up and down on his husband's cock. He'd been married to Paul Stanson for five years now and had dated him for five years before that. So Paul's dick was by now familiar. Every inch and curve and ridge on the seven incher, the slightly flared head, the way it spasmed as it neared orgasm.
It was getting there, now, he knew, also from the way Paul was sucking harder at Kevin's own smaller cock. Faster, more furious in his sucking pace, with more suction. It was going to get Kevin to the finish line, too.
It wasn't split-second timing, but Paul's seed spurted into Kevin's mouth. Kev loved the test of his man's cum... sweet with just a little salty flavor. That taste and the sensation of it gushing into his throat was often the trigger for his own orgasm and indeed he felt his cum hit his body with waves of pleasure. His husband sucked down his ejaculation as greedily.
They uncoupled and rearranged themselves to meet in a kiss. "Favorite way to start the weekend," Paul said. The man had long hours as a CFO for a small company and often had his sexual needs backed up if he and Kev didn't have enough time for regular sex during the week.
Kevin loved 69-ing, too, even if he sometimes wished they fucked more. Mutual oral was an act he never got the hang of till he met Paul. But his husband was a great cocksucker, having both technique and enthusiasm and their bodies were proportioned similarly enough in height to make it work.
"You came a lot," Kevin said, grinning.
"Should hold me for a couple of hours," Paul winked. He looked over at the clock. Almost 6pm. "What do you say we shower up and get some dinner?"
"Sounds good."
****
Life with Paul was great. Comfortable, even. Kevin Connors had been a personal trainer in his 20s and early 30s before getting into the marketing and then sales side of the business. Now 47, he worked in sales for a tech company specializing in apps for gyms and fitness companies.
The main challenge was their schedules, since Kevin traveled a lot for work, and Paul put in long hours. So weekends were their time for hanging out, and for sex.
And the sex was good. Great, even. Sure, familiarity sets in, but that had its positives as well as its drawbacks. Surprisingly, for as much as Paul was a type-A, even controlling guy in most aspects of their lives, even their relationship, in bed it was all mutual. He even liked it when Kevin topped, though Kevin would consider himself very much on the bottom side of the vers spectrum.
The one disagreement they had was about threesomes. They had done them a few times, and yeah they could be fun, but Kevin never liked the emotional aftermath or the awkwardness. For him, it just wasn't worth it. He had settled down and married a handsome, successful, and considerate man (faults notwithstanding) and wasn't looking to play the field.
Paul, though, LOVED threeways. He stopped pestering Kevin, but he did talk him into them a couple of times after their marriage. Kevin had started to get the sense that Paul enjoyed watching him with another man more than actually wanting to join in.
Kev brought that up with him and Paul admitted, sheepishly at first, that this was one of his big turn ons. "I don't know what it is, but it's crazy hot to watch you service some guy. If I can be honest, I'd love to watch some man fuck you some time."
"I don't know about that, babe," Kevin said, a little bothered by the suggestion. When they had played with a third, it was all oral, or both men topped the guy. Having the third fuck either of them seemed wrong. "I don't feel comfortable with that."
Paul smiled. "It's just a fantasy, and if you don't feel up that, that's cool."
****
Paul brought up the idea a couple of times, almost in jest, but didn't pursue it any more after he saw Kevin was not warming up the idea.
Kevin still wasn't crazy about it. But Paul's 50th birthday was coming up and Kev wanted to do something special for him. The man made a good salary and could afford most of the things he wanted to buy. And being the type-A control freak, he actually planned his own 50th party, with friends, some from out of town.
The idea had come to him and it seemed perfect. He knew Paul had a strong fantasy for a threeway, and a threeway where the man fucked Kevin. It would be a special treat, something only Kevin could give him. And he knew that it would be a one-time thing. A man turns 50 only once.
Kevin couldn't decide whether to tell Paul in advance and arrange for the threesome on his actual birthday or to wait till his birthday to tell him of his "present." He chose the latter, waiting until they were coming home from Paul's party, more than a little tipsy.
He knew Paul had some anxiety about turning 50, but he seemed to be in a good mood. "I'm the luckiest man in the city," he said as he slipped his arm around Kevin's and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Ended up with the hottest guy."
Kevin ate up the flattery. He always did. He'd always had "it," the stuff that gay guys went for. Good looks, great body, and a Midwestern personality that meant he never was short of admirers. He kept his middle aged body in perfect shape, even if that took more effort than before. The result was that Kevin's presence lit up a room... 190-something pounds of lean muscle at 6-foot-even, light brown hair that was getting gray at the temples, green eyes, roman nose, and bright smile.
It's what drew Paul to him, and it always amused Kevin to think that the guy wooed him with the same headstrong determination the man had in every aspect of his life. His husband was always proud that he'd snagged a hot stud like Kevin and never hesitated to express his gratitude.
While Paul wasn't in the same league, physically, Kevin had fallen for him immediately. Tall, strikingly handsome looks, trim swimmer's build, the man's serious personality was also an appeal for him. He looked up to Paul's educational and professional achievements, which inspired him to pursue his own MBA degree and get more serious about his career. He loved the way Paul's rationality balanced out his own often impetuous nature.
And, not to mince words, Paul had a bigger cock. Longer, thicker, at 7 thick inches. Kevin loved sucking on it and loved the way it felt fucking him. Kevin didn't like to think of himself as shallow, but he preferred a guy with a big dick.
Now, Kevin was proposing that another man fuck him, for the first time since he and Paul got involved.
"You serious?" Paul asked, surprised and very excited by the idea.
"Yeah, babe. You deserve to live out your fantasy once," Kevin said, clarifying that this would be a one-time thing.
Paul embraced him, holding him tight and planting a kiss on the mouth. Not a normal husband's peck but a heated, sexual kiss. Paul was turned on, for sure, and Kevin could feel his rigid boner in his pants as he started thrusting and backing Kevin toward the bed.
"I take it you like your present?"
"Fuck, yeah," Paul growled and they kissed again.
They couldn't get our clothes off fast enough. Paul was horny and his desire fueled his husband's.
They made out on the bed, gripping each other's muscle. Paul's trimmer build was on top of Kevin and his legs were kicking his husband's apart as he reached over to the nightstand for the lube. Paul was going to top and Kevin was very OK with that idea. It had been too long.
He slicked up and took just a second entering. But Kevin was horny and relaxed both and pretty quickly his pucker gave way and he felt the hot, hard shaft burrow in.
"Fuck me, babe," Kevin growled.
"Oh yeah," Paul hissed, his hips bucking fast. The alcohol was going to delay his cum just a little but they were going for a sprint rather than a marathon. "Fucking hot stud."
Kevin spread his legs wider and took his fucking. "You thinking of it already aren't you?" he asked. "Some guy fucking me."
Paul nodded, not embarrassed but turned on beyond belief. "Oh yeah." Then all of a sudden he started cumming, with a loud cry. Then he collapsed on the buffer man, taking a second to catch his breath before raising himself on his arms once more. Paul now pumped Kevin, slowly now, but it felt good.
"I want you to come, Kevin," he growled. "Come with my cock inside you."
"Oh yeah," Kev nodded and started stroking. His orgasm took just a little longer to arrive but when it did it felt great, and Kevin shot white ropes of jism on his chest and abs.
They kissed and uncoupled.
"Thanks for an amazing birthday, Kevin," he said, smiling and relaxed, like a happy kid.
****
They went online to arrange it. Kevin had a long defunct profile from a hookup site, which he updated with new pictures. He made it very clear in the language: good looking, in shape, married guy, 48, looking for a fit, masc, good looking top to fuck me while my husband watches. Should be hung, be able to fuck for more than five minutes. Safe only, no strings.
As predicted he got a lot of replies. He and Paul scrolled through them, laughing at some of the cheesy things guys wrote and mentally putting some of the guys on the short list. They finally came across a simple, straightforward message. "Dude, you're hot as fuck, but you know that. I'm younger and can usually come a couple times in one go. I'd love to show you what your husband's not giving you."
"What about that one?" Paul asked. It was almost a statement - let's pick this one - more than a question. Paul was definitely excited by "Mike."
Kevin looked at the profile. Something about the cocky nature of the message was a turn off, but he had to admit that Mike was a seriously hot guy. 25 years old, 5'11", 180, muscular as fuck, 8 inch fat cock, buzz-cut brown hair and blue eyes. "He's hot," he admitted to his husband.
"This may be my present, but I want to make sure you're into him," Paul said, patting Kevin's knee.
Kevin was. Maybe that was the problem. This guy was almost too hot. He wanted to seem open to this experience but not too eager. And his heart did pump faster imagining this younger man doing him. And especially looking at the photo of Mike's hardon. It was hard to judge the real size from a picture, and guys always exaggerated their size on these apps anyway, but the prick looked beautiful. Big, hard, ready to fuck. "All right," he said.
And just like that, he was firing back a message. It didn't take long for them to set up details. Next Saturday night, at Paul and Kevin's condo.
****
Saturday came and Kevin was nervous. Not ready to back out but feeling like he'd be happy if Paul called this off. In fact, he kept observing his husband that afternoon and it was clear that Paul was excited. It was a warm early summer day and Paul was wearing a preppy pair of khaki shorts and a blue-striped Oxford button down. He was handsome and Kevin couldn't help but remark how attractive his man was. Tall, distinguished looking with more salt-and-pepper hair than Kevin, who had just several flecks of gray coming in along the temples.
Kevin for his part went casual. Just a pair of gym shorts, commando, and a faded T-shirt of his Big 10 alma mater. He figured it would show off his gym-conditioned body. There always was the possibility with an online hookup not panning out. First Kevin had been nervous Mike wouldn't live up to his profile. In his single days he'd seen the flakes and the dudes with misleading and outdated pictures. Then, he worried he wouldn't live up to Mike's expectations. That message was right: Kevin knew he was hot. But he also was no longer in his 20s.
Before he could contemplate longer, the doorbell rang. Paul bounded up to answer it, and Kevin could hear their conversation down the hall.
"Mike?"
"That's me. You must be the birthday boy."
"Yes," Paul laughed. "Paul. Come on in."
Kevin watched as a medium-tall man entered, living up to his picture but somehow even better. He was dressed in jeans and a tight gray T-shirt that accentuated his build. He had just a hint of padding on his body, the kind of thickness 20-something guys often have when they focus on putting on muscle and don't want to avoid the occasional beer. But Mike was in shape and big, almost football player beefy. The man's smile broke out when he entered and saw Kevin. He was clearly pleased with what he saw.
"Mike," he said offering his hand to shake. Firm grip, steady eye contact. His eyes were almost sea blue in person, and his hair looked lighter than his picture, not quite blond but definitely light brown.
Kevin stood up, the nervousness fading rapidly, as he shook the hand. He was very much into Mike, the guy was definitely masculine with a laid-back deep voice, but there was something cute about his face, surprisingly, a bit of that boy next door appearance and a playfulness, too.
"I'm starting to think it's my birthday," Mike grinned and winked.
Paul seemed very pleased this was going to work out. He could tell Mike's interest immediately and read a similar lust in Kevin's face. "Can I get you a beer? Wine?"
Mike could barely take his eyes off Kevin. "How about we get down to business, if you guys don't mind? It's been a couple of days since I've gotten a load off and I'm horny as fuck."
Kevin laughed. There was something brash but adorable about this guy's approach. Like he was living up to the cocky messages he'd sent but not in a cheesy or overbearing way. More like he was just a horny young guy who craved sex.
"Oh yeah, we can do that," Paul answered for them. "Let's go to the bedroom."
When they got there the men were just a little awkward of how to start. Thankfully Mike took initiative. He turned to Paul: "It's your birthday, Paul, tell us what you want to see."
Kevin was glad Mike was looping Paul into this. Deferring to his husband in fact. With a wry grin, Paul sat down on an armchair we had off to the side in our bedroom and nodded toward me. "I want to watch Kevin suck your cock for starters."
Mike turned, an impish look on his face. "It was like he read my mind, dude." He started undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Kevin didn't waste time kneeing in front of him, and he had a close view of Mike's cock appearing. Not fully erect but very full looking. Mike was going commando and Kev sighed excitedly as he hauled out his meat.
"Fuck!" Kevin growled when he saw the length. He had assumed the guy was bullshitting about his size but there it was. At least eight perfect inches, real fat ones, too, maybe even a shade bigger than advertised. He leaned forward and took the head into my mouth.
"Oh God!" Kevin could hear Paul's excited gasp as he started sucking on the younger man's dick, feeling it firm up in my mouth. He never considered myself an expert cocksucker - Paul was more talented in that department, actually - but he did his best. Opening his mouth and relaxing the jaw and throat. Slowly working more and more into his craw. Kevin was almost deep throating him when Mike finally placed his hand on the top of my head to ease him off.
"Enough of the warm up, bud," Mike said. "Don't want to cum just yet." He reached down and hoisted Kev up and just like that initiated a kiss. The couple hadn't talked about kissing, but Paul wasn't making any objection now and Kevin was definitely keyed up for it. He kissed Mike back, feeling the strong hands slip down his shorts and massage his exposed ass cheeks. Mike's hands were strong, all right, gripping Kevin's gym-toned ass muscle.
"Fucking perfect ass," Mike mumbled and leaned back to remove his shirt while Kevin followed suit. He stripped off his jeans and now their naked bodies connected. His muscle felt warm to the touch and Kevin could tell he was getting off on the better definition.
Mike walked the two back toward the bed and they collapsed in embraced. The man may have been young, but was a skilled lover, covering Kevin's body with his own and humping against him. He kissed up the older man's neck, muttering into his ear. "You like your husband watching?"
Kevin hissed. This was Paul's part of the scene, the voyeur aspect. Kevin just enjoyed the sexual contact.
Maybe Mike mistook his silence. "Don't worry, man," he whispered. "I'm going to give you a fuck you'll remember."
"What are you guys whispering about?" Paul said, a tone half amused, half annoyed.
Mike craned his head back and looked at the 50 year old. "I was telling him I'm going to give him a fuck he'll remember."
With a grin he scooted down and lifted Kevin's legs up. Kevin aided the process by pulling his legs back the rest of the way. He trembled as Mike's breath fluttered against his crack and then moaned as the man planted his face right there.
"Oh fuck," Paul gasped and as Kevin looked over he could see Paul undoing his shorts and pulling out his rigid prick. As rigid as he ever remembered seeing his husband. He was glad Paul was enjoying the show. He was even happier feeling Mike's tongue circle around his hole. Paul wasn't a big fan of rimming, either giving or receiving. In contrast, this young stud was downright enthusiastic, munching Kevin's hole for a good five or ten minutes before pulling back.
"Hot fucking hole," he growled, giving another swipe or two of the tongue.
"Fuck me," Kevin urged. As he said it he realized it was the first time he'd actively initiated the process. Not waiting for Paul's request. He wanted Mike to fuck him. Bad.
Mike leaned up, grinning big. "Gladly, stud." He turned over toward Paul, showing off his large erection. "You ready to see me stuff this in your husband?"
Paul was so horny he could barely speak. "God yeah." He didn't touch his cock which was reddened and throbbing and dripping precum down its length. He couldn't remember ever being so turned on. "Just wear a rubber," he reminded.
Mike nodded his agreement as got off the bed and picked up the condom and lube. He walked over to where Paul was sitting. "Maybe you should put it on."
Kevin lay back, his legs still spread but now resting on the mattress. He hadn't expected this turn of events, for Paul to be brought in physically. He wouldn't have minded getting this young stud prepped and ready, but it was insanely hot to watch Paul take the Magnum and tear open the foil packet with his teeth, then gripping Mike's rigid prick in his hand to roll the rubber down.
"You like feeling this cock, man?" Mike asked, his hands on his hips as he looked down. "It's going right up your husband's asshole. Is that what you want?"
"Oh yeah. Please," Paul's voice was soft but definitely excited.
"More lube," Mike instructed. "Your husband's got a horny hole, but he's not used to cocks this big."
That made Paul audibly grown. Kevin wasn't sure where this was coming from. It must go beyond the voyeurism, he guessed. Paul seemed to get off being put in his place by a more muscular, better hung man.
Finally Mike stepped back and then crawled back onto the bed, his hardon throbbing and waving with each step. Kevin was nervous he'd get right to fucking and was growing apprehensive given the girth of that dick. The length he could take just fine, he knew, but Mike's cock was fat, almost cylindrically shaped.
But Mike just squirted some lubricant on his fingers and started working it into Kevin's hole.
"Lean back, buddy," he urged. "Relax." Then as his fingers pushed in and out, first two, then three, he hissed, "feels good."
Kevin was getting into that horny space again. That I gotta-get-fucked urge. He pulled back his legs to his chest, hiking his toned ass up. Mike got the message, withdrew his fingers and scooted forward.
The penetration was slow and steady. Kevin's hole would tighten then relax again, and more of that gloriously fat cock would slip inside. He forgot about Paul entirely, in fact, as this hunk was hovering over him, looking down with an intense, lusty smile. His fucker was about 20 years younger than him and was definitely into Kevin. Hungry, almost possessive in his fuck. Mike was enjoying this, and that somehow thrilled Kevin even more.
Pretty soon his pubes pressed against Kev's hole. "All the way in ya, man," he boasted. "How's that feel?"
"Incredible," Kevin grunted.
Mike pulled back just an inch and pressed in. Then again. Priming the pump. When he was sure Kevin was ready, he started fucking.
Kevin's mind was feeling overwhelmed with the sensation. He felt full, amazingly full. Possessed, stimulated inside and out. His dick was rigid and leaking on his hairy taut abs.
Mike built up a steady pace, working both men up. Not rushed, but gradually faster and harder. "Yeah you love this," Mike growled, putting more power into his hips. Rhythmic hard thrusts, that somehow Kevin was able not only to take but to crave. "Love being fucked by a real man."
At those words, Paul came, shooting his seed all over his hand and stomach. Mike looked over and saw the man go through the aftershocks. "Your husband just nutted," he grinned as he looked down on Kevin's horny state, muscles tensed, dick hard. "You about ready to come, too, bud?"
"Fuck, yeah," Kevin urged. As much as he wanted this to last, it was all so intense. He gripped his bone and started stroking.
That seemed to urge Mike to fuck faster, that fat rod hitting Kevin's internal gland more insistently. "Do it, man. Come on my cock."
Kevin did. His body shook and he gave it up. Heavy hard spurts of cum sprayed all over himself, some spurting against Mike's smoother torso in the process.
Mike's look of satisfaction was giving way to his O face. Kevin's spasming hole was gonna make him come. "FUCK!!!" he cried as he held his hips steady and filled his condom. Leaning forward he met Kevin in one last deep kiss, as his body tensed in the waves of pleasure.
That rubber was bulbed at the tip with jizz when he pulled out at last. He stepped off and Paul could see that magnificent, powerful cock.
"Mind if I rinse off?" Mike asked.
Paul had come a second time and was wiping his hands off with kleenex. "Yeah, sure, the bathroom's there," he said, pointing to the master bath.
"Thanks. And I may take you up on that beer if you don't mind me sticking around just a bit."
"Least we can do after that performance," Paul observed. As Mike stepped into the bathroom, Paul got up and crossed over to where Kevin lay, relaxed and satisfied. "You doing OK, babe?" he asked.
Kevin looked up with a dreamy expression. "More than OK. That was awesome. Was it everything you wanted?" He felt guilty now he'd enjoyed it so much but Paul seemed to have enjoyed it too.
"Oh yeah," he nodded and met Kevin in a soft kiss. "You can clean up and join us."
***
Ten minutes later, the men sat, dressed once more, in the living room sipping their beer and making small talk.
Finally Mike addressed the elephant in the room. "You guys done this before?"
"No," Kevin said. "Not exactly."
"We've had a few threesomes," Paul clarified. "But never a scene like this. With me watching. What about you?"
Mike nodded. "Yeah, a couple times. I had a running thing with a couple... you know, one of the guys had a big-time cuck fantasy." He took a sip of beer and looked squarely at Kevin. "The bottom wasn't as hot as you, though. Not by a mile."
"Thanks," Kevin replied.
"I'll just say you surpassed our expectations when we decided to do this," Paul said, his arm affectionately around Kevin's shoulder. "Guess we didn't expect a younger guy."
Mike got a sexy grin. "Oh, I have a real thing for older guys. Especially DILFs. It's one reason I come into the city to hookup with guys." His expression turned more serious. "Besides, I'm not out on my job, so it's just easier this way."
"What do you do?" Kevin asked.
"State trooper," he replied, clearly anticipating the surprised reaction from Paul and Kevin. He'd seen it before. He didn't usually tell guys his profession, but he felt comfortable with these men.
"No shit?" Paul exclaimed.
"You definitely look every bit the part," Kevin observed.
"I wish I was in your kind of shape," Mike answered truthfully. Kevin was his type to a T.
"Kev was a personal trainer," Paul volunteered proudly. "Hard keeping up with a dude this hot, I'll tell ya."
"You're a good looking dude, too, Paul," Mike admitted. "Thanks for setting this little play date up. Made my week. I think I was a little backed up."
"Looked like it from what I saw trapped in the condom." Paul observed.
Mike laughed. "Yeah." He reached down and gripped his crotch. "I could go again, too."
Paul looked shocked. He'd assumed the sex part of the evening was over.
"You're not fucking me again," Kevin said, his eyes locking on Mike's. "But I'll suck you off."
He was too nervous to look at Paul for confirmation on this. But his husband was the one who'd hounded him to play this scene, and Kevin knew he wanted another chance with Mike's amazing cock, since this was a one-time threesome. He stood up and crossed over, getting on his knees between the state cop's spread legs.
"Fuckin' A." Mike hissed, undoing his jeans once more.
Paul didn't think he had any more boner left after two cums not even twenty minutes ago. But here he was growing hard as he watched Kevin give Mike the Cop head.
Kevin felt a little more comfortable Mike's big dick this time, slowly working more of the thick shaft into his throat with an up and down bob. Sucking on that dick in the process and rubbing the cop's heavy nut sac with his right hand. He wanted to give the young stud pleasure.
Mike for his part seemed engrossed in the blowjob, looking down on Kevin's bobbing head, guiding him a little, until he looked up and over at Paul. "He's really good at this. Man your husband is so friggin hot." He leaned back and let the pleasure climb until he was having his second orgasm, firing a healthy load into Kevin's sucking throat.
Now it was Kevin with a look of proud satisfaction as he stood up, gripping his boner to calm it, and returned to sit next to Paul as Mike tucked in and buttoned back up.
"Fuck," the cop growled. "I won't say that was better than your ass, but... wow."
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absentia-if · 1 year
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Can you tell us more about the Steel family? What makes them so prominent?
The Steele Family have been around for quite some time. They were one of the original families that helped build Aurora, and they have a massive empire in various enterprises.
Rowan Steele is the Mayor of Aurora, and has made it an amazing city to live in. He truly cares about the population and the natural world that surrounds it. He was even approached to contend in the race for Governor of Montana, but he didn’t wish to leave Aurora.
Regina Steele is the Chief of Surgery at Aurora General— her prowess making it one of the top hospitals within the United States.
Victoria Steele is the CEO of the Steele Family Tech Enterprise, as I mentioned the Steele Family are involved in a lot of different ventures, which has been a pioneer in technological advancements.
Carina Steele is a famous country singer. She may not be the usual Steele that you may come across, but she’s well known for her powerful voice and beautiful songs.
Juliette Steele is the CFO of the Steele Family Wine Company (not the actual name of the company), underneath her Aunt Lauren (who’s the CEO), which has been in business for quite sometime and is one of the top sellers of wine in the world.
Dean Steele graduated from Yale Law School at the top of his class and is currently following his father’s footsteps in politics. Being a member of the Aurora City Council.
The Steele Family owns a lot of property throughout the world— half of which they’ve renovated into orphanages or shelters for those that need it. They’re like American Royalty (in a sense).
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carrickbender · 1 month
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In "tales from the front office..."
I have a varied and often interesting workday. Like today, for example, I led our 6 am teams call and then put on my rain gear, gloved up, and helped my team butcher crab that were returned from a customer. Then, after changing out of said gear and working on inventory and account reconciliations, our new CFO paid us a visit and we showed him the place. He is coo and totally engaged, but for the fun bits: Part of the tour was going to our (not up and running yet) 2nd shrimp production facility, which took me right by a printer I asked our tech team to set up for the new production document flow. And the tour just conveniently sauntered by the same printer where I sent this test page a few days ago, and forgot about it until we were walking by with said new CFO. It reads...
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Of course, I folded it up rapidly and shoved it in my pocket. But somewhere, if the inspiration for this page knew, I'm sure this would be his reaction...
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NICE WORK HIRSCH!!!!
(PS- if you got the reference without my big clue, thank you...)
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sing-you-fools · 9 months
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the more i think about it the more i think the Good Omens fandom is way off base trying to figure out "who Crowley is"
Crowley is Crowley.
i don't imagine he was a high-ranking angel at all. i think when he told Aziraphale in the s2 opening that he "worked very closely" with god on the universe he was completely full of it. god handed him the book and said "you, go plug this in." that was the "oh yeah i did most of it" of someone who didn't do shit but wants to sound important. he knew the password Muriel didn't know? probably because he was the tech support guy not the CFO or whatever.
i know a lot of GO fans aren't familiar with a lot of Neil and/or Terry's other work but it just doesn't feel consistent with anything they (Terry especially) ever wrote to have "Crowley's actually been this super important angel all along!" as a twist. and i think if who Crowley was as an angel were going to be an important twist in s3, Neil wouldn't have so vehemently shut down the "maybe he's lucifer" theorizing. his comments seemed to me like the reaction of a baffled author who couldn't understand why his fans were digging in this direction, not an excited author who sees his fans digging in nearly the right direction.
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