#we do have market day tomorrow again

[baekuras]

I have been buying a few bio-products lately mostly because the cheap ones are too large/have too many...idk like potatoes for me to actually use and not end up throwing some away and

i swear to god

if one more thing tastes worse than the cheaper option i will never buy them again it’s getting really annoying

the ONE expensive thing so far that tastes better than the cheap one is the bratwurst my great grandpa brings from his local farmer once in a while (it’s really good and nice and soft even when you reheat it but with a nice crispy kinda skin, nothing that drags, nothing that hardens out, just the right texture in all the right places and good taste and everything <3)

but other than that so far my experiences have been subpar so i guess my taste goes

more expensive bio/organic foods<cheapest options<expensive local farm options but i’d have to actually be able to drive out someplace to get any so basically impossible to get lol

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ KISS IT BETTER?

୨୧ cw : tsundre!lee know, a guy being a creep, kissing, fluff, kinda angst, Han is the reader's older cousin, fem!reader, some petnames, overall soft

୨୧ requested : yes

You were practically vibrating with excitement when you got the job as Stray Kids' new manager. Eager to be around your cousin - Han - and hopefully make some money to help put yourself through college.

You made sure everything about you was perfect to greet the boys, although Han would definitely tease you for trying to look your best around him.

And you did look perfect, your hair was curled, your nails were painted a nudeish-pink, you wore your pair of pretty mary-janes, all your best jewelry, your prettiest pink clothes, and did your makeup. You looked stunning, according to your best friend at least.

You looked stunning until a stranger, in a rush, ran into you at full speed, spilling his coffee all over your clothes. Already running 10 minutes late due to traffic you had no choice but to go into the job with coffee-stained clothes.

You looked ridiculous, and Jisung confirmed that when the first thing he did when looking at your disheveled state, was laugh. "Oh my God you look ridiculous! Let me get a photo! I have to send it to halmeoni!" he whipped his phone out when you stumbled into the dance practice room.

Against your will, he got a few good shots of you before you practically jumped on him. You sat on top of him, struggling to snatch his phone out of his grasp. "Get off me you cretin!" he yelped.

You and him wrestled back and forth for a few minutes until you heard the door to the studio open. And in walks the leader of Jisung's group, Chan.

You scurry up to bow to him, while Jisung lays on the floor, "Chan-hyung did you just see that? She jumped me!"

"Did not you fuck face! You were gonna send that photo to grandma!" You squeal.

"I'm sorry what?" Chan questions.

"Chan," Han stands up and motions to you, "my younger cousin, y/n, she's also the new manager."

You bow to Chan again, "ah- Just call me Chris," Chan smiles and shakes your hand.

"Nice to meet you, just call me y/n," you introduce yourself.

You didn't notice Han rummaging through his bag until he tapped on your shoulder, holding out a spare change of clothes, "here put these on."

You gratefully took the clothes and went to change in the bathroom. You slipped on the oversized shirt and sweatpants. They looked strange paired with your Mary Janes and they were definitely not your style, but you were grateful that Jisung let you wear them.

When you slipped back into the practice room, you were greeted with 6 new faces along with Jisung and Chris. You bowed to all of them as they introduced themselves.

Han introduced you, "this is our new manager Han y/n. They're also my cousin, so don't be weird!"

"Don't worry, none of us were planning on it," Lee Know, Han's best friend, interjected, rather coldly.

You laughed off the rather cold comment, and explained the schedule that the boys were having at the moment. Just a simple marketing meeting. But the marketing team was busy, so they left it to you to brief all of them on the subject.

You read over the report one of the marketing heads had typed up for you. "So Lee Know Log number eight is going to be filmed on the 19th and they assigned me to go with you to Tokyo, which in parenthesis they say is a bummer to you because you wanted Jeon Gowook-ssi to go with you instead," you look at Lee Know for a moment before you continue," also a group live is scheduled for tomorrow, and that's all," you finish reading.

"What are we doing for the rest of today?" the boy with fox-like eyes, Jeongin, asked.

You pull out your work planner and flip to today's schedule, "the rest of today is a free day, but tomorrow as you all know you have interviews early in the morning so I wouldn't suggest staying up late tonight," you explain to the boy.

"A free day! I'm getting the hell outta here," Seungmin jumps up and grabs his backpack.

"Lets go get lunch!" Changbin suggests, "y/n you should come!"

"Yeah!" Felix agrees.

"Oh I dunno, I don't wanna bother you guys!" you insist.

"No don't do that c'mon we're gonna go to lunch!" Han persists.

Han practically dragged you along, even though you begged to not go.

When you all sat down at the KBBQ restaurant you were seated between Han and Lee Know. As the boys chatted over bites of food you stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt their conversations. "Y/n aren't you gonna eat anything?" Hyunjin asks from across the table.

You suddenly realize you hadn't eaten a single thing. "Typical y/nnie, even when we were kids, she'd go out of her way to not cause anyone any trouble," Han comments from your left.

Hyunjin takes a piece of steak from the grill and puts it on your plate, while Han starts telling a childhood story of you and him, "I remember one time we were learning how to ride bikes near the Han river, y/nnie was still using training wheels, and my older brother kept teasing her about it, so she took them off. She got about three feet down the path before she accidentally swerved into the freezing river. Luckily she could swim and we had to pull her out of the water. But when we insisted that we take her to the emergency room she looked at me and said 'I just fell in the river, it's not like I got hit by a car or anything!'" Han recalls.

The table erupted in laughter, except for Lee Know.

"You were okay though right?" Felix asks.

"Well for the most part, only some minor bruising!" you explain.

"MINOR!??! Your knee was practically busted open, you were bleeding like crazy!" Han exclaims.

Changbin stifled his laughter. And Han continued telling stories about you and his childhood. "There was this time in highschool when y/n was visiting me over the summer in Malaysia and one of my friends had a huge crush on her, like I'm talking gigantic, and y/nnie felt too bad to reject the guy, so she went on three dates with him until I had to call him and tell him that it was because she felt bad for him."

"Oh my gosh stop Ji, I still feel bad about that to this day!" You exclaim.

"Luckily that has been the only boyfriend of hers I've had to fend off," Han jokes.

"That's because he's the only boyfriend I've ever had!" you bring up.

"Well I didn't wanna embarrass you but yes that too," he chuckles.

"There's no way you've only had one boyfriend!" Felix exclaims.

"Are you gay?" Jeongin blurts.

Everyone stares at him before bursting into fits of laughter. "Stop! I'm being serious!" Jeongin yells.

"Uhm, I dunno? But no just guys don't really look at me like that," you say through chuckles.

"No wait that's sad!" Felix frowns.

You suppose that the two bottles of soju he had were finally starting to hit him. "No! Don't get all sappy I'm fine!" you insist.

Group dinners with you accompanying had become pretty frequent over the past few weeks, so had the clear sign that Lee Know was not fond of you or your presence.

Glares he would send you, cold and rude comments, even Han asked you what you did to make him dislike you so much. It tore Han apart, having to choose between his bestfriend and his cousin. Even though no one asked for him to choose, he always felt like the two of you disliking each other brought him into it.

Yet you had to go to Japan with Lee Know to help him film his vlog, maybe God did hate you, or maybe it was just bad luck. Whatever the case was, it did not help the fact that you were gonna be stuck with him in Tokyo and Kyoto for the next five days.

You had packed accordingly and met him at the airport. No words were exchanged between the two of you, except when he was instructing you to get his good side while you were filming him. "At least pretend you enjoy my company while on camera," you scoff.

Even when you landed in Tokyo, walking around with the man, you both exchanged few words. If you were a bystander on the street, it would seem like the two of you hated each other. He probably did hate you. Why? You have no idea.

"I'm gonna go out," you inform him, when the two of you return to your shared hotel room.

"Where?"

"A club, the one a few blocks west of here," you explain.

"That's dangerous," he comments before you're out the door.

You scoff, "I'm sure I'll be okay."

"Suit yourself," he shrugs.

You walk out the door and down the street to the club.

You mingle through the sweaty bodies to the bar, using the little Japanese that you did know to order a drink. "Long day?" a man beside you asks.

"Tell me about it," you chuckle.

"And what's your name?"

"y/n Han," you smile and give him your hand to shake.

He does but before he puts it down he kisses it, "well you look stunning," he compliments.

"Oh," you pause, "thank you, but uhm I can't really do anything, I'm here on a business trip."

"Well it's not like we have to go anywhere to do anything," the guy insists.

His presence was now making you uncomfortable. He got closer and closer to you, "c'mon sweetheart why don't we just slip off to the bathroom."

"No I'm good," you reply.

But the guy grabs your wrist and begins pulling you across the dance floor to the bathrooms despite your begging that he will let you go and leave you alone. Panic fills your mind, and another hand, a different one this time grabs your free wrist. Lee Know looks at you with worry on his face. "Who are you?" the guy from earlier asks.

"Her friend," Lee Know stares the guy down, "would you mind letting her go?" it was a question, but the only answer he would take would be yes.

"What're you gonna do if I don't? Hm?" The guy poses.

"You don't wanna fucking know," Minho seethes.

You look between the two men, hoping and praying Lee Know will win whatever is going on.

When the guy keeps dragging you, Lee Know punches him right in the nose. The guy's grip on your arm ends and Lee Know pulls you away from the guy and out the doors of the club in a swift motion. Before you can even thank him, he begins talking, "did he touch you anywhere other than your wrist?" rage was dripping in his voice.

You shake your head no, and tears well up in your eyes at the thought of what the guy was going to do to you if Minho hadn't been there.

"C'mon we're going back to the hotel," Minho says, giving you no chance to protest, not that you would.

When he opens the door to the hotel room he lets you walk in and closes the door behind you and him. "Thank you," you finally say.

"Don't mention it, d'you want to go home? I'll book a flight?" he asks.

You shake your head no, "I'm okay, it's okay."

"What happened was totally not fucking okay, you don't have to pretend like it was," he says while taking his shoes off.

He looks up at you, he crosses the room, kneeling beside you before unbuckles your shoes for you, tossing them near the doorstep.

"Why do you hate me?" you blurt.

Lee Know is quiet for a minute, "I don't hate you," he states.

"Then why are you so mean to me? You know what it's doing to Han? So why do you act this way?" you confront.

"Because it's easier to be mean to you and hurt Han then to tell him I'm head over heels for his cousin who is also our manager," he sighs.

"What?"

"You heard me," he retorts.

"Then why are you so-"

"Cold? Mean? Rude? Like I just said honey, I can't like you. I didn't want you to like me, so that way we wouldn't be anything," he elaborates.

"Who says I would even like you if you were nice to me?"

"So you wouldn't like me?" he whispers.

He stands up and tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. The words are caught in the back of your throat, "I would appreciate an answer my love."

"I- yeah- but- I yeah," you stutter.

"Keep it a secret?"

"Keep what a secret?"

"This," he leans down and his lips meet your own.

You immediately kiss back, taking a few minutes to savor the taste of him after the kiss ends. "You're a good kisser for someone who has only had one boyfriend before," Minho compliments.

"Thank you?"

Minho pauses, "I'm sorry, for being a dick, I wanna make it up to you."

You admire his feline-like features for a few moments before replying, "I can think of one way."

"What is it?"

"Another kiss?" you request.

And Minho is happy to oblige to your requests.

[midnightstar16]

Whispers of Love: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Reader is new in Kattegat and catches the attention of a certain Ragnarsson.

Warnings: Assault, murder, slight swearing(i think)

You came to Kattegat just a couple days ago but it didn’t take much time at all for you to notice the famous sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. You only saw them from a safe distance as they talked to one another. You noticed one of the boys was crippled but not before you saw his face. You were in awe, to say the least. But your eyes must have lingered on him for quite some time for he met your gaze with an intense stare that sent chills down your spine. You never had more reason to leave and go back to the hut you were staying in.

You became an orphan at the mere age of 12 and had taken care of the farm for many years with your older brother. But the two of you had recently decided that you wanted a far more exciting future than just farming on the land so you sold the land and took the money to buy a hut and look after yourself just until you had settled in. You forgot about Ivar soon enough once you reached you new home and moved on with your new life.

A month passed by and living in Kattegat was so much more different than the farm. It was much louder, faster and there were more people than you could count. But it was not to your dislike, it was the contrary actually. You had started your training to be a physician and you were doing nicely. Everything was working out better than you or your brother could’ve imagined.

Ivar had not stopped thinking about you ever since that little eye contact in the market and it may have been a bit delusional of him to still believe that he would see you again. You were probably not even in Kattegat anymore because he could not find you anywhere. You were the first girl to look at him with such admiration and he drowned in your beauty the second he laid eyes on you.

During dinner he seemed to have zoned out because Sigurd had to throw some food at him to get his attention. Ivar was immediately annoyed and glared at him. Trying to stop himself from flinging his axe at his brother, he asked, “Why are you throwing food around like a child?”

“You wouldn’t listen. Had to do something to bring you back to Midgard,” he replied.

Ivar rolled his eyes, already feeling great anger towards his brother but before he could say anything, his mother interrupted, “We are celebrating Yol tomorrow.”

Ivar drowned in his thoughts once more. He would know if you were in Kattegat by tomorrow night. If you were in the town, then you would be at the feast and he would approach you. He wanted to know all there was to know about you; all the important and unimportant things of your life.

You and Kalf, your brother began cleaning up the plates and horns after dinner. You broke the silence, “It is Yol tomorrow. There will be a great feast.”

“Yes, I have not been in the Great Hall since the Thing, where I got my arm ring. Just thinking about the food that will be there makes me hungry all over again,” Kalf spoke excitedly.

“We have just had dinner, you fool. How are you always this hungry?” You spoke laughingly.

“Your cooking will make any man excited to eat something else,” he commented.

Gasping, you threw the nearest thing you could find at him at which he simply laughed. You spoke sarcastically, “I won’t make food for you if you really hate it that much.”

“Well, I mean it’s not THAT bad if I think about it,” he retaliated.

Smiling smugly, you spoke, “Better.”

The feast was spectacular. You sat on a different table from your brother though because you knew he would embarrass you the first chance he got. The food and the ale was so good you could feast all night. There was music as well and many were dancing to it but you weren’t drunk enough yet to give yourself away to the music. You simply talked and laughed with your newly made friends.

Looking around the hall, you suddenly noticed certain eyes on you and then the memory came back. Those blue piercing eyes and that face, he was perfect in every way. You maintained the eye contact for long, getting lost in his eyes until one of your friends whispered, “That’s Ivar. The crippled one.”

You looked at her. You had heard of Ragnar Lothbrok’s crippled son. The girl continued, “They say he is a menace, quicker to anger than most men, so don’t let his legs fool you and not only that, but I’ve heard that he is stronger and better at fighting than any of his brothers. Apparently he strangled a boar with his bare hands but that is probably not true.”

“Of course it is not true,” you scoffed. After waiting a second, you suggested, “Come, let us dance. The music is lovely.”

The both of you giggled and rushed to give yourself away to the music. You soon felt the beat through your veins and the rhythm matching with your heartbeat. You danced uncontrollably, partly because you wanted to see how the crippled prince would react, if at all. His eyes had barely faltered from you and it was making you uncomfortable but you didn’t want him to know that. You didn’t want him to know that he made you feel weak by simply looking at you but every now and then you would give him a glance.

You suddenly felt a hand around your waist. You didn’t know who the man was for you had never seen him. His hold on you was not budging when you struggled. His other hand was roaming at places on your body that made you terrified and the hall was crowded enough for no one to truly notice your struggle.

“Let go of me!” you said, struggling.

“Oh what’s a bit of harmless fun? Especially with a woman of your beauty,” the man spoke.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as he continued to ‘dance’ and play around with your body until something that you hadn’t expected in a million years to happen. A knife suddenly struck his head as his eyes remained widened with shock. You quickly stepped away as his body fell to the ground. The tears ran down your face and you looked around trying to figure out who it was until you saw everyone looking at Ivar who was glaring at the man’s limp body. It was different to how he had looked at you in every singly way but you didn’t stay around to find out more. Feeling absolutely overwhelmed, you stormed out of the hall with Kalf following.

“What happened back there?” Kalf spoke worriedly.

“I-…” you hesitated. Before you could speak, your brother interrupted, “You don’t have to tell me. It is fine… Come on, let us go to our hut.”

Ivar had had his eyes on you all evening, his brothers even teasing him about it but he quickly turned them away angrily. But when he saw that asshole trying to touch you without consent, Ivar felt an uncontrollable anger. He wanted to skin the bastard alive but he couldn’t simply watch you struggle like that. Even after killing the man, Ivar felt no guilt. Why should he? He was simply protecting you, making sure you were safe.

No one had asked him about why he had done what he did. Perhaps it was already too obvious. Perhaps he had scared you off. You wouldn’t even want to go near him now. He felt his insecure thoughts weighing him down during the night.

You barely slept through the night, the picture of the knife piercing the man’s skull replaying in your mind and then seeing the look Ivar had on his face. That menacing look, the one that could take down entire armies.

The next day, you went away from the town to feel the quiet of nature that you had already begun to miss. You walked around the forest, finding a riverbank to sit nearby quickly enough. You thought about what had happened last night, how, in some really fucked up way, Ivar saved you. But he also killed a man who will never experience Valhalla now. Then again, that monster didn’t deserve Valhalla. You sat there wondering what would’ve happened if Ivar had not intervened.

“Mind if I join you?” you heard a voice from behind. When you turned your head and saw that it was Ivar, you quickly stood up.

“Were you following me?” you realised in this moment, you were terrified of him.

“Will it help if I said no? Either way, you walk too fast so I had to find you myself,” he spoke. When you didn’t say anything, it didn’t take him long enough to realise how you felt, “You are scared of me.”

Scoffing, you reasoned, “Who wouldn’t be? You killed a man while I was simply inches away.”

“He was hurting you,” Ivar remarked as if that was reason enough.

“But you could’ve killed me,” you argued.

Ivar grinned, “I didn’t though, did I?”

“Well… No but still, it was terrifying,” you said while Ivar made himself comfortable by sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree.

Even though Ivar worked very hard to not show it, he had been very nervous to actually talk to you. Now that you were here, he didn’t want to ever leave.

You stood there silently before sitting down in front of him. What was it about him that you felt so drawn towards?

He looked at you lovingly, “What is your name?”

“Y/N is what they call me… But I already know who you are, Ivar,” you acknowledged.

“Do you?” Ivar joked.

“That anger in those gorgeous eyes of yours, how could you be mistaken?” you replied.

“My eyes are ‘gorgeous’?” he couldn’t control his smile.

You blushed, “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t mind the compliment though, please, y/n, carry on about my gorgeous eyes,” he teased. Truth was, he felt a thousand butterflies. He’d never gotten a compliment from anyone.

The two of you continued making jokes at one another, laughing constantly and time flew by ever so quickly. Ivar couldn’t believe the sun was about to set. With you, he didn’t have to worry about anything. He felt at peace.

When his brothers asked where he had been, he simply smiled and shrugged. For the first time in so long, he didn’t feel furious. There was something about you, like you were a goddess who appeared to save him. The next day Ivar went up to the same place, hoping you would show up. He was almost about to leave until he saw you show up.

You finished your work as a physician for the day as quickly as you could and relied on your friends to cover up for you. Once out of Kattegat, you practically ran to the same spot on the riverbank as yesterday. You didn’t know how but you just knew that he would be there, nor did you know why you felt so eager to go to him either.

You continued these secret meetings for as long as you could. No one was aware of who or where you actually went but you didn’t care even if they found out. Ivar had become your sanctuary as you had become his.  

During one such evening, as the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the riverbank, you found yourselves lost in a conversation filled with laughter. Ivar had a knack for weaving humor into every exchange, and you found yourself charmed by his wit and the way his eyes sparkled with amusement.

Ivar grinned, his eyes dancing with mirth. "See? I told you I was the funniest person you'd ever meet."

Laughing, you shook your head. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that."

His gaze softened as he looked at you, a warmth filling his eyes. "I'm glad you find me amusing, y/n."

You smiled back, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sincerity in his voice. "You have a way with words, Ivar."

He chuckled softly. "Only when I'm with you."

The air between you seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and before you could think, you found yourself leaning in closer to him.

Ivar's hand gently brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "You're beautiful when you laugh, y/n."

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Ivar reached out, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. His touch was tender, sending a shiver down your spine as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.

As your lips clashed with an overdue feeling of affection for one another, Ivar kissed you passionately and possessively almost as if declaring that you were his.

You pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you found yourself lost in Ivar's eyes once more, a sense of belonging settling deep within your soul.

“I am yours, y/n, now and forever and you are mine,” Ivar’s words echoed in your heart as you buried your eyes in his, expressing a thousand unspoken words.

[reikissu]

Baji Keisuke dating headcanons.

a/n: a new dating hcs for baji, since my last ones were ooc as hell 😟 (mikey, draken, mitsuya, pahchin, kazutora)

genre: fluff, a bit of comedy

reader: gender neutral

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence and injuries

baji’s an odd one, despite him being an infamous delinquent and being held back a year, he’s the sweetest boy ever.

he’d call you baby, dumbass or babe, it depends on different days.

he’ll do anything for you, even if it meant killing someone. need help with something? alright, he’s up for the job, but if it involves homework, he’ll try his best. you hate someone with a burning passion? he’ll beat the living hell out of them for you.

he sometimes gets into fights on purpose so you’ll take care of him, you’ll hear a stone hitting your bedroom window and you’ll see your beaten up boyfriend with a shit eating grin outside your house.

“babyyy! treat my wounds please!” “you got into another fight? oh my god. 😠” “hehe.” “don’t hehe me, keisuke! whatever.. get in here.”

his mother adores you, she’s very happy for you and keisuke. she’s proud of her son because you always tell her how well he treats you, she now knows her son will be a good husband. ryoko would give you food as thanks for making keisuke happier, she’d also always ask him about you.

“how’s y/n?” “huh? oh, they’re doing good.” “oh okay, when will they stay over again?” “hmmm.. not sure, i’ll ask them tomorrow.”

there’s times where he’s in a bad mood, he gets the urge to punch someone or burn cars, but he then remembered that you told him not to. so he just pays you a visit whenever he feels cranky.

his type of dates would be after school or at night, after school you both would go to his favorite café and eat while telling each other what happened in your day, at night he would take you out on a ride or bring you to a night market.

he dreams big, and he works hard to make sure he’ll be able to achieve that life with you. a life with you where you both are newlyweds, living in an apartment without a single worry, having cats and cute kids. it makes him blush when he thinks about it.

if you’re a hardworker who never takes a break, he’ll drag your ass out. “Huh? Kei, where are we going?” “We’re going to that place you like so much.” “Why? I was doing something you know!” “Dumbass, it’s been days since you haven’t left your room, i don’t wanna open the door and see you dead on the floor.”

he would give you small things as his way of showing you his love aside from kisses and hugs. like your favorite snacks, keychains of your favorite flower or animal, and jewelry he can afford.

you both would have matching phone charms and rings, the phone charms would be cats and the rings would be sun and moon themed. he never takes off his ring, even if he was in a fight or if he was taking a bath.

he would proudly introduce you to mikey and the others, he doesn’t care if it’s embarrassing, he wants to show you off.

“Meet Y/N, they’re my lover.” “Wait, what?!” “Woah, you got yourself a saint if they can handle how much of an asshole you are.” “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” “Man, i never thought you’d be able to get a lover!” “They’re hot.” “HA?!” and everyone else has to hold baji back from beating kazutora up.

he gets jealous, even of kids. one time, a little boy came up to you and told you that he wants to marry you one day, you just said thank you and laughed it off… while keisuke, was glaring down at the kid and was like “😠… Hm.”

he would introduce you to every cat he owns. “This one’s Yuko, this one here is Peyoung, and this one, my favorite is named Y/N Jr.” “You seriously named a cat after me?” “Duh, you should’ve expected that from me.”

he’d always crave for your warmth, even at school. whenever you two are alone in a place at school, he’d hug you, if you two are staying over at his place or your place, he’d cuddle you. his arms around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck as he takes in your scent.

if you have younger siblings or pets, he’d gladly take care of them if you are busy or anything. he’d be the type to get along well with your parents too.

he would smell like Versace Eros, he would probably have that as his perfume because one of his rich relatives gave him that as a birthday present. so it makes you giddy inside whenever you hug him.

he isn’t very talkative and nice to other students except you, if they’d try flirting with him he’d immediately tell them you’re his lover. you are the only exception to him, no one else can play with his hair, touch his body, or even try to fix his necktie and fake glasses.

rando: “Ah, Baji-kun, your collar’s wrinkled.” he’d swat their hand away if they even try to touch his clothes, “Don’t touch me, i can fix it myself.” but if it’s you, it’s an automatic yes.

baji would ask help from you if he was having hard time with some topics in some subjects, and he’d feel bad for bothering you. but you always assure him it’s fine for him to ask for help. that’s why his test scores went up, all thanks to everything you taught him.

in short, he’s the type to improve his flaws, to study hard, to be more careful with his attitude, all for you. he’s willing to do everything, even if it has risks of death. his heart only belongs to you.

© reikissu do not repost/steal any of my works and repost it on other platform/s. I do not own the characters i write for at all, reblogs are appreciated though ♡

[t1red-twilight]

AHHHH THE REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Can I get something with the prompt “there is no way you’re actually jealous right now.” With Peter:) something along the lines of him being jealous over someone who’s literally like a sibling hahaha

jealousy, jealousy

summary: “there is no way you’re actually jealous right now.”

content/warnings: gn!reader, andrew!peter, fluff

notes: thanks to olivia rodrigo for the title and thank you for requesting pookie<3

word count: 0.8k

masterlist

you and peter were walking home from your designated weekly date night. you both really valued this night and it was something you both made sure to make time for, sometimes you’d go on more than one.

peter had chosen the restaurant this week, and dinner had gone great. currently, you were both walking back to your shared apartment. with both the traffic and a general desire to spend as much time together as possible, walking was the preferred method.

the brisk night air left a red flush on your cheeks. the hum from the city bustle was white noise that surrounded the both of you. it was comforting; you looked forward to this night every week.

peter held your hand, but because of the late night chill, he had gracefully shoved both of your hands into your coat pocket, so that he could hold it without your hands freezing.

“we should just buy gloves one of these days,” you chuckled.

“hmmm, well if we did that then i couldn’t feel your skin. it’s really soft.” as he said this, his thumb drew lines across the back of your hand. you squeezed your interlaced fingers affectionately.

every now and then, either of you would say something; but, for the most part you were lulled into a comfortable silence. your shoulders would brush together every now and then.

as you were passing the corner store that was on the block right before your street, you saw a familiar face. a very familiar face, in fact. you waved your free hand to get the attention of your high school best friend.

after a wave or two, they waved back. you sped up to meet them.

“oh my gosh! it's been forever! how are you doing?” you gushed out at them.

“i’m good! just work. are you doing good?”

as quickly as you could, you introduced peter. he gave a cordial, albeit awkward greeting. as the small talk continued, you felt peter get antsy behind you. he began rocking on his heels as you kept talking to your old friend.

you tried to bring peter into the conversation to make him feel more included, but he just inched closer to you and leaned his body against yours. his actions were much like an annoyed toddler trying to get their mom to leave the grocery store.

“yeah, peter and i met through friends a couple of years back. we just moved in together, actually,” you explained. peter very gently, almost imperceptibly squeezed your hand in his. turning to him briefly, you assumed he meant to say something. you were pulled back to your friend after a moment.

“oh my god- was he that cute guy you met when you were working at that one pastry shop?” you were surprised that they even remembered this detail.

“yes, actually!” you turned to see what peter was doing, but he had stretched his lips into a line and was avoiding eye contact as best he could. he was very clearly not paying attention.

“are you still working in marketing at that car company?” you asked them. another time, he squeezed your hand. out of the corner of your eye you could see him gazing at you seemingly longingly.

they gave a light laugh in response. “no, the boss was a nightmare. he kept trying to set me up with his nephew. who’s a forty-five year old who still lives with his mother.” peter squeezed your hand again.

you cringed. “oh, god. that’s disgusting. i’m glad you don’t have to deal with that anymore.” you felt peter squeeze your hand a little tighter. he was getting even more impatient. at this, you wrapped up the conversation. “i think we might have to head out. pete has had a long day, and i have to get up early tomorrow.”

“it was so good to see you!” they gave you a side hug, and you felt peter scoot even closer to you. you bid your friend farewell and you and peter were headed home once again.

“are you okay, pete?” you implored following the silence.

“yeah. of course. why would i not be?” his voice had lowered to just above a whisper. he was avoiding your gaze again.

you turned your head to try and meet his eyes. “you’re acting weird. do you not like my friend?”

“no,” he blurted very quickly. “they’re fine. they seem nice.” peter was never a good liar, especially when he lied to you. his entire tone of voice shifted to a higher pitch.

you paused before getting a revelation. “there is no way you’re actually jealous right now.”

he stopped in his tracks and looked at you with raised brows. “i’m not!”

“don’t get defensive, peter.” you chuckled and reached for his other hand. you moved to the side of the sidewalk so you wouldn’t block any passersby. “we spent a good portion of the conversation talking about you, you know.”

he caught onto your teasing tone and exhaled out a breathy laugh. “i’m sorry, honey. i think i’m just tired.” his eyes moved to meet yours finally.

“you’re so cute,” you smiled. “you have nothing to be sorry over.” you squeezed both of his hands again and laughed with him. “i’m tired too. let’s go home.”

[joedirtymadre]

Time to bawl everyone eyes muahahahaha

Okay, okay, i have a request. Law fall in love with reader when it's already too late. Maybe when the reader already stop trying and stop expecting.

Too Late

LAW X READER! ANGST 🥀

(Send more requests! I’m back in the grind 💪)

“Hi Law!” You smiled as you walked into his office. “Disrupting my day again (Y/N)?” He asked, never looking up from his pile of papers. “Noo, just wanted to see how your day is,” you said softly as you stood in front of his desk. “Well it would be better if I could finally finish these papers,” he sighed as he sat back in his seat.

“Well… I can try to help. Maybe sort through, help organize,” you asked, hoping he would accept. “No offense (Y/N), but your presence would only bother me more than help,” he said bluntly as he rubbed his temples. “Oh…? Oh, then I guess I’ll just be on my way then,” you said as your lip quivered.

You quickly turned on your heels and headed out the door, closing them behind you. You stood there for a few minutes, feeling the blow of his words. “What’s the point… nothing will change between us,” you said softly before heading back to your quarters.

Law’s POV

I heard a soft knock on my door, “Come on,” I said quickly. Probably Penguin or Bepo giving me current updates, “Hello Captain,” I heard a soft voice.

I looked up and noticed (Y/N). “Oh, it’s been a few days since you’ve met me in my office. Trying to ask me about my day again?” I softly chuckle, as I return to my papers. “No, just trying to give you an updated report. We’ll be arriving at the nearest island tomorrow morning,” she stated. I looked up, a bit confused, why is she acting differently. Where’s the smile, the offer to help, her asking about my day?

“Oh well… thank you,” I nodded. I stared at her, all she had was a blank face. “Then I’ll be on my way,” she said as she quickly turned to leave. “W-Wait!” I unexpectedly said. She slowly turned her head to face me, “Yes?” She asked.

“Umm… s-so how’s… your day been?” I awkwardly said. If I could slam my head on the desk, I would… “Oh umm… fine?” She replied, confused. “Good, good… So there’s a few papers that I may need-“ I was interrupted. “Sorry Captain, but I’m on the next watch. I can’t keep Bepo waiting,” she said quickly. “Oh, I understand. Carry on,” I said as I fiddled with the papers, watching her leave and close the doors behind her.

I sat back in my chair and let out a groan. “What the fuck was that?” I asked myself. “How's your day been? Was that really the only thing I can think of?” I asked angrily as I ruffled up my hair. “But she- (Y/N)… the fuck happened to her sunshine and rainbows attitude she usually has? Did I do something to make her angry?” I asked, confused about what just happened.

There’s no way I’m bothered by all of this, I can’t be. She’s just a crewmate.

… The Next Day…

I finally finished another set of papers and decided I needed a break. We landed on an island about 3 hours ago so a quick break wouldn’t do me any harm. Maybe… (Y/N) might accompany me, I’m sure she’s been waiting for me to finish. She usually does. I quickly got up and grabbed my stuff before heading into the deck. I scouted around the submarine, but there were no signs of her. I noticed Shaki doing some repairs, “Shaki have you seen (Y/N) anywhere? I wanted to ask her if she would j- I need to ask her something,” I quickly switched my words.

“Oh her? Yeah she’s on the island right now,” he said as he continued on his repairs. “I see…” I grumbled, quickly heading towards the island.

Your POV

“Wow this place is so beautiful,” you smiled. You made it to the main plaza and began exploring through the farmer market. You stopped by a flower court, smiling at the many flower arrangements the keeper stored. “Hello,” a man smiled. He was a young attractive man, “Hi,” you replied. “I haven’t seen you around here before… traveling?” He asked. “Yep! Your flowers are so beautiful,” you smiled as you ran your fingertips through the flower petals.

“They sure are a family secret in growing them,” he explained. “Oh wow, how much for a small bouquet?” You asked. “Which one were you looking at?” He asked. “This small sunflower bouquet,” you smiled. “Hmmmm… for you, I guess for free,” he smiled. “No, I can pay. How much is it?” You laughed. “No, no, I insist. A flower like yourself deserves them,” he winked as he handed you the small bouquet. You smiled softly and grabbed the flowers, “Thank you,” you said. “No probl-“ “(Y/N)!” You heard.

You turned your head to see your captain, fuming, walking towards you. “Oh, hi Captain. Look at the flow-“ you were interrupted by him grabbing your arm. “Let’s go,” he demanded. “H-Hey! What are you doing?” You asked, as you struggled, but against his strength you were helplessly dragged off.

After he dragged you off, you were finally able to slip out of his grip. “What are you doing?” You yelled. “What am I doing? What are you doing? Flirting with any guy on the street!” He yelled back. You flinched at his tone, still holding onto the flowers you were gifted. “I didn’t flirt, I didn’t do anything! He just gifted them to me,” you explained. “Why do you think he gifted them to you?! Because he was feeling peachy? It’s cause he wanted to fuck you!” He yelled.

You took a step back. Your lip began to quiver, “Why are you yelling at me? And why do you even care? We’re just crewmates, you said that my presence just bothers you… So why did you come looking for me?” You asked, with tears welling up in your eyes. “Cause… because…” he trailed off, you saw him trying to find some sort of an explanation for his behavior.

“And what if he did flirt with me? At least he knows when a cute girl is in front of him…” you mumble the last part. “What was that?” He asked. You clenched your fists, “At least he knows when a cute girl is standing in front of him. Unlike you! For the past half year I’ve devoted myself to you, checked up on you, cared for you, anything to get you to notice me… but you never did,” you sighed, allowing the tears to fall. “(Y/N)…” he said softly as he tried to reach out for you.

“It’s whatever, I’m over it now… I’m over you. I’ll find someone who can appreciate all the stupid fucking work I put in. I already wasted so much energy on someone who saw me as nothing more than a pesky fucking mosquito in their ear,” you sighed. “No… (Y/N), I-I do-“ you cut him off. “It’s too late for whatever you’re about to say,” you said bluntly. “All that energy I wasted, those nights lying awake thinking about you… I don’t want to go back to that,” you confessed.

You slowly turned your heels, going anywhere he won’t be at.

Law’s POV

I can’t let her leave, she has to know… I thought as I reached out to her. Without thinking I latched onto her, hoping she could understand how I understand now. “Please… please just listen to me. I do understand now, you’re not a bother to me. So please, give me another chance,” I pleaded as I held onto her. She slowly shook her head, as her body began to tremble.

I quickly spun her around, making her face me. She’s crying… and I caused that… “(Y/N)… i-if you can say it to my face that you don’t have any feelings for me… I’ll stop,” I softly said as I placed my hands on her shoulders. Hoping there is a sliver of hope, a chance that she might throw herself onto me. A chance to make this right- to treat her right.

“I don’t love you…” she choked out. My arms dropped, I feel numb. “I understand,” I said softly. I stared at her as she quickly turned around and walked off. Away from me.

I watched as she disappeared down the path. I messed up, if only I realized sooner…

That I love her.

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Gojo's cooking skills-: gojo cooks for the fushiguros while you are away. (Disaster)

Gojo frowns not being able to locate a pan in the kitchen. Megumi sighs at the sense of foreboding, it's already been 20 mins gojo's rummaging through the kitchen, just to find a single pan to cook. He could simply ask Tsumiki or Megumi but the guy believes in self reliance, thus asking help from the kids would feel like a betrayal to himself.

He wants to make you proud, by cooking for the kids, serving them the utmost savoury finger licking heavenly food. (Without the help of anyone)

'Tshh,' says Tsumiki drawing her brother's attention, 'Don't you think we should help gojo Sensei?' she whispers, keeping her voice low. 'And do you think he would agree?' replies Megumi fretfully.

You are out for work today, a rare occasion in this household. You work partime in a marketing firm that advertises a buisness good or service making it reach its desired market sale.

It haven't been much long since you joined this company, before moving in with gojo satoru you used to work 9 to 5 but now that you have the kids to take care of, you convinced your boss to work half-day. He agreed since you were only a part time employee. You normally go to work after the kids go to school and return before their arrival.

However today is a bit different, the work load is enormous for a special deal whose ad is supposed to be out tomorrow, which resulted in your boss asking you to do overtime. You agreed instantly, since gojo wasn't going on any missions today and the kids were on a special holiday. Moreover your boss has been too kind to you to refuse.

Gojo has reassured you that he won't need any help, even though you insisted him to call if he faces any problem. He didn't wanted you to work while stressing about them. Even after that, you had given atleast 3 lectures on how to take care of the kids, where the cooking materials are and about their likes and dislikes.

'How about you sneak in the kitchen, take the pan out of the shelf while I keep him occupied on something else?' Megumi raises a brow at Tsumiki's idea. He thinks it's waste of energy but agress anyways.

Both go according to the plan, Tsumiki drags gojo outside lying someone was on the door, while Megumi sneaks in the kitchen getting the pan out from the shelf.

'There's no one 'miki! You sure you heard someone?' Megumi hurries trying to place the pan on the counter at the sound of gojo's approaching steps, 'yes! Sensei! I'm sure. Why don't you come and check again!!' Tsumiki pulls gojo's hand dragging him to the front door again, when 'Megumi, what are you doing?' gojo asks nonchalantly as Tsumiki's eyes widen.

Megumi quickly places the pan on the top of the counter shutting the shelf sneaking out of the kitchen, when gojo picks him up in his lap, a pissed expression in his face.

Gojo's was nowhere near the kitchen a few seconds ago. He was standing with Tsumiki in the living room. Now Tsumiki is standing alone in the living room creeped out.

He drags a shocked megumi to the living room and settles him on the couch. He goes for Tsumiki next, settling her beside Megumi.

'you guys think you can surpass me? Tsk tsk tsk, I'm the strongest—' Megumi interrupts before gojo could finish. 'Did you just—teleported from the living room?'

'yup.'

'wow. So you can teleport! Can you do that too Megumi-chan?' says Tsumiki fascinated as megumi stares at his Sensei.

'megumi can do that too one day, if he works hard to keep up with me....and you have to now that you promised.' gojo ruffles megumi's hair annoying him again.

'now, you two don't interfere when I'm cooking, I gotta make y/n proud and prove i can take care of you guys without any lectures.'

Gojo strolls back to rummaging the kitchen, as the kids watch, turning their heads from the couch.

'megumi can do that too one day' said gojo to Tsumiki. 'I will do that too.' thought Megumi, he might not like his Sensei much, he might strongly believe he's unserious and annoying but he can't ignore the fact that his Sensei is the strongest. And it's the only thing he truly admires. He promised gojo to work hard and keep up with him. He promises to work hard again but this time not to gojo, but to himself. He will work hard and become like his Sensei one day.

'Would you like pizza instead?' gojo said apologetically. He ended up burning the Ginger chicken rice and salad he was making. The kids were starving till the pizza arrived.

The kids accepted the their fate, desperately wishing you to comeback and never go back. Atleast that meant good healthy food that actually tastes good. Megumi made a mental note never to learn cooking from his Sensei.

When you arrived late in the house expecting the kids fast asleep, you were instead greeted by a whining megumi, who was having digestion problems.

That's it. You are never leaving the kids with him again.

'Atleast, I fed him on time!'

'Yeah, and you fed him pizza, which is the reason he's having stomach ache. You said you would make them something healthy.'

'I did.'

'Then—wait don't tell me you—' you rush into the kitchen to see a burnt cooking pan and a couple of dishes stacked in the basin.

'well, it wasn't burnt, just a bit overcooked—that it turned black.'

'yeah, into ashes.'

'But love, i atleast tried.'

'Aww honey! You're so sweet. Now go do the dishes. Without breaking anything.'

[rosietaeyongswife]

shameless | kim doyoung

AU: angst, fluff, drama, cheating au, readerxtaeyongxdoyoung SYNOPSIS: Marriage was supposed to be your dream. You were in love with Taeyong, until you came to realization that maybe he's not the one. Thankfuly, his best friends was there for you when you needed him the most. WC: 8k TW: cursing, cheating, mentions of sex AU: i do not support any kind of cheating. never. it's a pure fiction. yall i think i've improved my english lol one day i'll fix all my works because lmao yeah enjoy this pls:P

Marriage. How foolish of you to think it's going to be a dream come true. Well, everyone else stated that fact. According to them, marriage is one of the best stages of life. You've reached a certain point in life - perhaps an achievement. Too bad none of them said how much of a burden it can be.

Of course, the first few months were perfect. Dates, flowers, and affection. Isn't this what every woman craves? Kisses, gifts, and affirmations from your loved one. Those things blinded you. Only if you knew back then. Maybe then you would've left. It was your choice to ignore all the red flags. It's been a year, and it's a nightmare.

"Baby, can you do laundry?" You were running late, yet Taeyong does nothing. He could help you, at least. "I have to leave already. I showed you the other day how to do it. Will you do it for me, please?"

Taeyong was playing Call of Duty on the PS4 you've bought for him on his 27th birthday. He was focused on the game.

"Sure. I'll do it."

Without any other word, you left. Sometimes you'd like to smash that PlayStation into pieces. Taeyong does nothing around the house besides playing that damn thing.

It was a late call meeting with your work team. You couldn't focus on the words of your co-workers due to that weird gut feeling. Something deep down felt like something would go wrong. Ignoring this wasn't helping at all.

"Y/N, we want you to manage this project with Chaeyoung. Is that alright with you?" Your boss asked while you were drifting in your thoughts. "We believe your reviews and suggestions would make this successful on the market."

"Of course, I'll handle this."

"Thank you." He looked at the watch. "Okay, it's 9 p.m. We're done for today. I'm sorry we had to hold a meeting. It was a surprise to us too. You can go all home now."

Everyone left in a hurry, and so did you. The weather got worse, and it was raining. You couldn't get cold, so you called your husband. Silence. Again silence. He didn't pick up your calls. All you could do was run and pray that a bus would arrive.

"I called."

"Sorry, baby. I was too busy with the game. Look, I ranked up."

"That's amazing, but it's pouring outside, and I had to walk there by myself." You rolled your eyes at your husband's ignorance. "I'm fuckin tired. I just want to take a shower and go to sleep. Have you done the laundry like I asked you to?"

"Yes. It wasn't that hard." He laughed and turned the PS4 off. "I'm heading to sleep. Waiting for you in the bedroom."

At least he did what you had asked for. Walking in the bathroom was hopeful for you. Little did you know how much anger it would bring you.

"Taeyong! What the fuck have you done?!" Your husband was quick to run back to you. He was looking at you confusedly. "How could you ruin my white shirt for tomorrow? Why would you put red socks together with white laundry?"

"My bad. I'm sorry, honey." He looked at you with his doe eyes. "I didn't notice, sorry once again. I'll give you money to buy a new one."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" You scoffed. "I needed that shirt for work tomorrow. It's past 10p.m, what am I supposed to do? I asked you for one thing, and you managed to fuck it up."

"It's just a shirt, Y/N. You're overreacting. You can buy another one."

"It's not just about the shirt, Taeyong. You don't understand." You went next to him. "I don't have any clothes for work. Fuck."

Taeyong apologized once again and went back to the bed. He didn't really care about the fact that he ruined your shirt and left you alone past 10 pm, looking for clothes for work. He difted away to sleep while you had to hold your anger in yourself and calm down.

Your husband and you both work for the same company. You work in different departments and both of you start work at different hours. Taeyong got up and left an hour before you. As usual, you woke up to dirty dishes on the table and a cup of coffee on the counter. He didn't respect the fact that it was you who was cleaning the whole apartment.

"Look there. I guess you could've described another problem here, and we would put it together." Chaeyoung was taking notes on your words. "Do it, then send me the rest of the thing. I'll try to finish it by Friday."

"Thank you, and of course, I'm doing it."

Mark Lee was sipping on his coffee when he approached you. He was your best friend and best colleague from the company. Both of you go along pretty well.

"Someone's not in the mood today, huh?"

"Mark, please." You stopped on your way. "Don't get on my nerves today. It's not funny at all."

"Sorry, Miss Not in the Mood." He chuckled. "You slept on the wrong side, or what?"

"I slept on the right side."

"Then what happened?"

"Taeyong happened." Mentioning of your husband made your head hurt. "I asked him for one simple thing. Do laundry. That's all! Guess what." Mark was waiting for you to finally tell you the tea. "He ruined my shirt for today. I was tired, hungry, and annoyed, and on top of that, I had to find myself clothes for today."

Mark could only laugh. He was aware of your husband and how clumsy he can be.

"How did he even do it?"

"He put red socks and underwear together with white clothes. The majority of clothes were pijamas, but still. I didn't ask for much. I explained how the washing machine works about ten times!"

"Everyone makes mistakes, but your husband is crossing the line, Y/N. I'd be mad too. Yesterday was a horrible day."

It's almost the end of the month, so everyone is worked up. Every project needs to be finished ASAP, clients are waiting and aren't patient, and on top of that, your boss is scolding you for every little mistake you've made.

"You should be thankful you don't have to deal with it."

Another day went the same way. Today was another hard day, and the only thing you wished to do was fall asleep, but it seems like you won't be able to do that.

"Honey, I missed you."

Taeyong was looking at you with lust in his eyes. Deep down, you knew what he was about.

"Not today, sorry. I had a rough day, I'm exhausted."

"C'mon. I missed you and your body so much." He began to kiss down your neck. "I want you."

Anger was boiling in your veins. It's like you're talking to a wall.

"I told you no, why don't you give up? I'm not in the mood, I had a tiring day, and you expect me to fuck?"

"Fuck, Y/N." He stopped and put his hands into his hair. "We haven't had sex in months, alright? I have my needs, I'm fuckin horny, and I want to fuck my wife. I want us to feel good, yet you're always too busy to do so."

"I fuckin told you I'm tired. You're so, so.." His gaze went upon you. "Pushy. Leave me alone."

"Great."

The last thing you've heard was a door shutting. He left, and God knows when he'll be back. Like a kid. Your husband behaves like a spoiled child. Nothing ever satisfies him, and he wants things his way. Nothing in between.

Once you've been reading about all those unhappy couples who have sex once in a while, don't talk too much, or don't even know too much about each other. They're just together because they get used to each other and are way too comfortable to let go and leave. Little did you know you were going to face the same fate.

"Fuckin hell." You rolled your eyes. Taeyong wasn't picking up your calls when it was an important matter. "Boss, can I go into the marketing department to meet my husband? It's urgent."

He didn't even look up, but he nodded. Men.

The marketing floor was only three floors higher. Of course, you've known the majority of people working there thanks to Lee Taeyong. A few employees passed and greeted you.

Johnny was sitting by his desk, probably busy with his tasks that needed to be done by today.

"Hi, Johnny." He sent you a smile. "Do you know where Taeyong is?"

"Oh, hello, Y/N. Shit. I think he might leave for a lunch break with Jaehyun and Yuta."

"He did."

The voice was familiar to you. Turning your head, you saw no one else but Kim Doyoung. Your husband's co-worker and best friend.

"Fuck. Thank you, guys."

"Something did happen?"

"I wanted to ask him to drive me to Kun's bakery. It's Jaehyun's birthday in two days, but they need me there today. I guess they couldn't find a sample?" Doyoung was looking at you with his soft eyes, while you were stressed. "Nevermind. I'll go."

"Wait." Doyoung grabbed his coat. "I'll drive you. It's no problem for me. I'm on the break anyway."

Your whole body relaxed at his words. Somehow you felt different, because Taeyong usually rejects your requests, but Doyoung? He agreed right away.

As both you and Doyoung were on your way to Kun's bakery, Taeyong called you a few times. Asshole.

"Thank you, really. You have no clue how much this matters to me. You saved my day, Doyoung."

"No worries, I mean, I'm just driving you to the bakery. It's not hard, or something."

"I fear some people wouldn't agree." Doyoung glanced at you for a second. "Nevermind. Thank you, again. I bet Taeyong doesn't even remember we booked a cake at Kun's."

Both of you laughed at your remark. Doyoung was aware of how clumsy and nonresponsible his best friend can be.

"It wouldn't be Taeyong if he didn't forget about such a thing. But hey, look at you. You're about to solve a problem with Kun and come back to work, and you didn't need Taeyong's help."

"Wow, I'm so independent now. Not like you drove me there, at all."

Kim Doyoung was a year younger than Taeyong. Both of them have known each other since high school. Then they applied to the same business school where you met Taeyong. Both of them graduated and found a job at Lee Sooman's company. Like you did. Doyoung was different than Taeyong. He was clean, tidy, and he could cook. Everyone could depend on him when needed. He never let any of your friends down. Never. If you needed help, you should've called Doyoung. He was stylish and looked like an old-money guy. None of your friends, nor you, have seen him date. He probably had a few girlfriends, but they weren't serious, as you guessed.

"Well, I can pay you for-"

"Y/N, please." He stopped you mid-sentence. "Don't pay me at all. I had a great time picking a cake with you."

"Me too, Doyoung. Again, you're wonderful."

Taeyong was looking at you through the window of his office. He was calling you for an hour, and he had no response from you. He was a bit worried, but as he saw you with Doyoung.. He was relaxed.

Mark was smiling from ear to ear. He saw you coming into the building with Doyoung from the marketing department.

"What were you doing with Kim Doyoung?" He was moving his eyebrows in a funny way. "He's cool, right?"

"I had an emergency at Kun's bakery, yet my lovely husband wasn't picking up my calls." Mark scoffed. "He gave me a ride, and yes, he's a cool guy."

"Jaehyun's birthday, right?" You nodded. "I bought him a watch, and what about you and Taeyong?"

"I don't know. I was supposed to buy a cake, Taeyong is going to buy a gift. Please, I wish he had already done that."

Jaehyun's birthday is always a party at his house. He invites a whole friend group on the weekend, and makes a dinner. Everyone is drinking and having fun together. It was supposed to be an amazing day, but only if your husband didn't ruin it the day before.

"What do you mean you forgot?" Taeyong was stressed too. He knew he was meant to do something, but he had no idea what exactly. "Taeyong, you promised me you're going to buy him a gift!"

"Fuck, I forgot! Couldn't you do it? I'm busy with work, so it wouldn't hurt, Y/N."

"Are you kidding me?" You put on your coat. "I'm also working, I'm cleaning and cooking, I ordered the cake for Jaehyun's birthday, and both of us agreed that you're going to buy a gift!"

Every favor you're asking Taeyong for, ends in the same way every, fuckin, time. You can never depend on him.

"I help you too! Don't make me look like I'm some kind of lazy jerk. I simply forgot, things happen, okay."

"And what are we going to do? Are we going to show up with a cake for his 27th birthday and say sorry, but Taeyong fucked up once again?" The sarcasm in your tone was noticeable, and your husband wasn't a fan of it. "Do you even know what he likes?" Taeyong couldn't answer as he had no thoughts. "I knew it. God."

"Where are you going? It's past 8pm, and it's freezing outside?"

"None of your business. Clean after dinner. That's the last thing I'm asking you to do."

Cold February nights like this make you wonder about your life. Lately, both you and Taeyong have been fighting. You couldn't even remember when the last time both of you exchanged "I love yous". Are your friend's marriages the same? Do they fight a lot? Do they fight every day? Do they overcome it? To you, it seems like an endless circle.

Luck was with you tonight, because the old vinyl shop was open until 9. You made it on time to buy a jazz vinyl record for Jaehyun. He was a huge fan, everyone knew it, except Taeyong.

"That's a hundred dollas, mam."

The last shop you're going to visit is one owned by Haechan's uncle, who sells prestigious wines from all around the world. It was just a few blocks away.

As you were looking for a wine thatJaehyun hasn't tried yet, you've noticed familiar sillhouete.

"Doyoung?"

"Y/N?" He turned back with a gummy smile. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Emergency. Again."

"Mark mentioned that Taeyong was supposed to buy a gift, right?" He was visibly confused. "Then why are you here?"

"Key word 'supposed'."

For the first time ever, Doyoung felt bad for you. He always thought that you're a couple goals. Back in the day, you couldn't shut up about Taeyong. Either of you, were talking about each other, still in love. Taeyong never complained, nor did you. To be honest, every single one of your friends thinks you and Taeyong live your dream lives. Only Mark knew it was total opposite.

"I mean, maybe he was tired? Everyone works hard these days, people tend to forget things at times."

"Doyoung, please." You laughed sacristically. "I agree, but Taeyong always forgets about something. Doesn't matter if he's tired, or not."

For the time being, Doyoung had no explanation, nor could he defend his friend.

After a few minutes, Doyoung helped you pick a wine and took you home. It was another time he saved you. He was kind enough to drive you home.

"See you tomorrow, Y/N."

"See you too." As you were about to go into the building, you turned around. "Again, thank you."

Taeyong was asleep in the living room with a TV on. Typical of him. You looked over, and once again, Lee Taeyong disappointed you. The dishes were in the sink, not washed. You put the gifts down and did the dishes yourself.

Morning was a tense one. Neither of you speaks to yourself. The only thing you said was that you're going to pick up the cake by 5 pm. It was Saturday, and both you and your husband had a free day. Taeyong was probably waiting for you to make a lunch or something, but it wasn't your plan. You made yourself some waffles and ate them by yourself.

"Where's some for me?"

"Don't you have hands? Do it yourself."

He was looking at you in disbelief. Taeyong was used to you cooking and serving him food.

"Why are you bitching? I've already apologized. What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'm not bitching. I just made lunch for myself." He was getting annoyed with you. "It seems like I'm some kind of housewife to you. I'm not. Learn to do things yourself."

By 5pm, both of you were getting ready. It's been a long time since both of you went together somewhere. Taeyong stopped asking you on dates long time ago. Of course, you missed those silly dates. Your husband doesn't put effort in.

Taeyong was waiting for you in the car, while you put everything into a bag. One last look into the mirror, and you were looking pretty. In your eyes, everything seems fine.

"What are you wearing?" Taeyong almost burst laughing. "Honey, go change yourself, I don't think you look the best in such a dress."

For a moment, you felt stupid. Your own husband laughed at your look, even though you thought you looked great. A knee high, black dress and boots with a coat. Everyone was wearing that. It was a cute look.

"What do you even mean?"

"It's not made for you, I guess? I don't know, I just want to help you to not get emberrased."

"Oh, fuck you, Taeyong."

There was no time for changing, besides, you felt cute. A month ago, you would've run into the apartment to change but not today. You tried to ingore peaks Taeyong took. He hurt you. You thought you could ignore it, but as soon as you arrived, your self esteem was six fit under.

"Hey guys! Wow, Y/N, you look stuning!" Jaehyun welcomed you with a kiss on the cheek. "Suit yourselfs."

Jaehyun complimented you, but inside of your head there were Taeyong's words.

In the living room, everyone was waiting until Haechan would arrive with his fiance, Jimin. Johnny was sipping on a coffee with Sooyoung. Taeil was taking photos with his wife, Joohyun. Yuta, Jungwoo and Jaehyun were making food. Mark was laughing with his girlfriend, Soyeon. Doyoung was looking at you and Taeyong, when both of you arrived. Doyoung couldn't stop himself from looking at you. This dress complimented your body and your bueaty the best.

"Everyone let's drink. It's our Jaehyun's birthday." Johnny stood up with a glass of champagne in his left hand. "I can't believe you're already 27. We're all happy to be here and celebrate with you, dude."

The party was going great, everyone had fun, and none of the guests seem to be annoyed, or not having fun. Taeyong found himself sitting with Yuta playing games and drinking beer.

"Men are like children." Joohyun sat down next to you on the coach. "I can't believe they're almost in their 30s."

"Don't tell me that. Look at them, they're playing on the PlayStation as if they were teenage boys."

"At least we can have some time to ourselfes."

Joohyun was right. She was with Taeil since freshman year of the college. She was three years older than Moon Taeil and she was one of your closest female friends. Everyone looks up to her, since she was the oldest one in the friend group.

"Can I ask you something?" Joohyun looked at you waiting for your question. "Do you fight with Taeil often?"

"Hell yes! We fought in the morning because he didn't clean the bathroom like I asked him to."

"Did he do it after you had scolded him?"

"Of course. What kind of question is that?" She laughed at you, but you were dead serious. "Wait. Doesn't Taeyong do the same? You know, if you scold a man, then he's kind of irritated, but do it anyway out of respect for you."

"He doesn't. You see, I asked him to do something. I show him how to do things properly, so he won't have to need my help. I explain it like I'm speaking to a child. I do it about ten times per chore." You giggled at yourself. "Guess what. He doesn't do it. No matter how much I ask for, he either forgets, or doesn't do it at all."

Joohyun, for the first time ever since she has met you, felt bad for you. For the first time ever, Taeyong doubted her.

"I have no idea what to say, Y/N. It's not supposed to be like that. You're a duo after all."

"I don't think we're a duo, Joohyun."

For the rest of the night, Taeyong didn't give you attention, which you were thankful for. He got on your nerves enough. He was hanging out with his homeboys, enjoying himself, not worrying about you. In his mind, both of you have a perfect life. You are happy together, and you're madly in love. Maybe love is starting to be a too strong word for your feelings towards that man.

"Are you fine, Y/N?"

Doyoung smiled at you when you were sipping on a lemonade made by Johnny and Mark.

"I'm just tired after work and all this shit. And you? Are you fine?"

"It could be worse." He chuckled. "I see Taeyong isn't with you."

"Thank God. He's busy playing games."

"Still. I haven't seen you talking yet."

"We had a small fight before."

A reminder of that situation from before made you self conscious again. Your husband's words aren't supposed to make you feel the way they do.

"Was it serious or?"

"Not really. It was about my outfit, so nothing extreme."

"What do you mean by your outfit? You look stunning, I swear to God."

"Doyoung, can you be honest with him? We've known each other for almost ten years. We're friends." The man was busy thinking about what might come next out of your mouth. "Do I look bad? Be honest. Do I look worse than before? I don't know, am I not taking care of myself?"

It was a question directed at Doyoung because he was a person from a friend group that you've known for the longest. Actually, it was Doyoung who introduced you and Taeyong to each other. He knew him from high school, and he met you during the same classes at the business school. Kim Doyoung was a lovely nerd. Interested in Star Wars, books, and business. He used to collect plushies, he even gave you some of them. You always have wondered how Doyoung's world crushed with Taeyong's. Lee Taeyong was a popular jerk, interested in tattoos, rock, and trouble. For quite some time, you had a small crush on Doyoung. But then, you met Taeyong, and you fell head over heels over him.

"I don't see the point of this question. Isn't it obvious? Many guys from the department have a crush on you. I saw multiple strangers turn their necks when you passed by. You've always been pretty, Y/N."

"Now I feel better. Thank you, Doyie."

He was looking at you, once again, with his soft eyes. Sometimes, he wonders why you work him up so much.

"No problem. Remember, you're that girl. Don't let anyone say otherwise."

As you were about to respond, Taeyong showed up. He was drunk, and he could barely stand on his legs.

"Did you just call my wife pretty?"

"I did. We're friends, though. It's not that deep, Taeyong."

"I don't know, maybe you want to do something with her?" He was approaching you and Doyoung. Embarrassment fed your whole body as he got closer. "I don't like the way you talk to her."

"What's your fuckin problem, dude? I complimented her, since no one else bothers to do so. Like her husband, for example. Get it together, man."

You wish you could be gone for a second. Taeyong was drunk, and he had no clue what was going on.

"Shut the fuck up, Doyoung. You don't know shit."

"Calm down. You're wasted as fuck."

Everything that came after is now the past. The next thing you knew was Taeyong punching Doyoung straight into his nose. Blood was dripping on his shirt, and guys tried to grab him. You were shocked, and all you could do was scream at your husband. He was never that aggressive towards someone.

Jaehyun and Yuta were holding Taeyong, while Johnny and Haechan held Doyoung. Both males were calling each other names, while you wanted to disappear. Everyone was stunned. They had no idea such a storm was coming tonight. Best friends fighting over nothing.

"I'm leaving."

You got up, took your purse and coat, and left. Sooyoung called after you, but you were done for tonight. There was nothing you could do with your stupid husband. Leaving seemed like a good option.

"Get in." After a five-minute walk, a black Mercedes parked by your side. It wasn't your husband, though. "I won't let you go alone on a cold, dark night. Get in."

"You don't have to, Doyoung. I really -"

"I won't repeat myself."

Even after such a fucked up night, Doyoung had to be the one to take you home, not your husband. Does he even love you?

A week passed by, and nothing has changed. Both you and Taeyong would only see each other in the morning. Not even a simple "Hi" was exchanged. He was too embarrassed after what happened at Jaehyun's birthday.

"Y/N, we would love to move you a bit higher." Lee Sooman, your boss spoke to you. "We found your results to be the best out of the whole company. I want to promote you to a higher position and move you to the International Marketing department. Are you in?"

It was the day that would change your life the most. Working schedule was tighter, and you had to spend more hours weekly in the company. Chaeyoung was moved into the marketing department, so she was working with Taeyong. Everyone in the new floor was a stranger to you. These days, it's hard to find friends. Especially from work. Mark would always pass by your floor to say hello, though.

"Can I talk to Y/N?" Yuta's voice echoed through the office of the international marketing floor. "It's urgent and we need her. I'm from the Japanese unit."

Na Jaemin, your new co-worker, asked you to come. With a smile on, you saw Yuta waiting for you.

"What do you need, Yuta?"

"Are you the one who is in charge of France and Italy's orders?" You nodded at his words. "Well, I think that someone messed up and their orders came to Japan, and Japan's order came to France. Can you check it out with me?"

Both of you came to your desk and typed out the information about the order. Someone from the delivery unit must have mistaken the orders, that would have cost millions of dollars.

"I think you should call the international shipping floor, there's Seulgi. She may know what to do before the boss finds out."

When you were on your way back, Chaeyoung stopped you. She was smiling a bit.

"Can you help us, Y/N?"

It turns out that marketing and international marketing are supposed to make an ad together. You were picked as a person from the international floor, and Doyoung was picked from marketing.

"I'm glad I'm working with you, Doyoung."

"Me too. I would cry, if I had to work with Jeno or Xiaojun. They're a bit weird."

"I don't blame you." You laughed when you opened your laptop. "I think we should start today, and it would take about a week for us to finish. What's the theme of the ad?"

Doyoung took a look at his papers and then answered you.

"Youth. Progression. Victory."

"How the fuck are we supposed to do it?" In your head, you saw how much of a struggle this ad would be. "Any ideas?"

The time went by so fast, none of you noticed it was past 8 pm. Both of you got to work to make the best project you could ever do. Doyoung was a smart guy, and he knew exactly what to put in an ad to make it interesting.

While both of you were working, Taeyong didn't call you at all. You were supposed to be at home at 6, yet he didn't even care. He's probably still mad at you because of the fight.

"I'll drop you at home." Doyoung put his coat on, and looked at you to check if you're ready. "C'mon, Y/N."

"I feel bad. You're doing too much for me, Doyoung." It was truth, Doyoung didn't mind but to you it was wrong. Taeyong is supposed to help you, not his best friend. "Let me call Taeyong, he would pick me up."

"Waiting for his response, then."

It's ben almost 30 seconds and he didn't pick up. Another call. And another. Nothing. He wasn't going to pick up your calls tonight.

"I'm sorry. It's going to be the last time you're dropping me at home. For real."

Doyoung didn't answer but rather smiled at you. It was cute how much you didn't want to depend on him, but you did anyway.

Both of you were in a car talking about the details of the project when suddenly your stomach made a noise.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

"Lunch. Sandwiches."

"Y/N, it was at 1. It's 8. Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine." Another noise came from your stomach. "Okay, maybe a little."

"We're going to eat something. I'm hungry too."

When you were about to protest, Doyoung shushed you a bit. He parked by a restaurant next to the company. Both of you ordered the same thing and enjoyed the meal together inside.

"How much am I supposed to pay you back? I wasn't looking at the price."

"Don't worry, it's on me."

"Doyoung, I can't-"

"I said it's fine." He laughed. "Enjoy your meal and stop being so annoying."

It was the first time since you could've remembered when you were in a restaurant. The last time you were in a restaurant was with Taeyong on your birthday a few months ago. You couldn't explain why, but you felt the warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Doyoung, I really want to thank you for everything you're doing for me." He stopped eating and focused on your words. "I have shitty time with my husband, work is getting on my nerves, and you're too nice to me'' It felt as almost you were crying. "You have no idea how much it does mean to me."

"Y/N, stop. I do it, and I'm not complaining at all. I like to spend time together, and it's not your fault that Taeyong is such an asshole. I wish he was a better husband. You deserve someone who will love you unconditionally."

After that, your evening got better. Doyoung took you on a small car trip around Seoul. He showed you some streets you hadn't seen before. Deep down, he knew you didn't want to come back home as soon as possible. He parked for a minute by the Han River.

"It's an amazing place. I feel like I'm 17 again, me and my friends go on trips here to follow our crushes from school."

"I did the same thing with boys. Me, Yuta, and Taeyong with Jonny would be here every day after classes because of Taeyong." He was laughing at himself. "Because of him and Kang Seulgi, we were here every day for hours. He wanted to look at her and ask her out. It never worked though, because she left for some time, then we were in business school, and he was dating you."

Kang Seulgi? Seulgi from the delivery department? From you company? Taeyong had crush on her? Suddenly you felt lightheaded, your vision became blurry, and tears appeared on you eyes. You had to take a few deep breathes to calm down.

"I've never heard about Taeyong and Seulgi? Why?"

"Fuck. I wasn't supposed to tell you then." It was an accident. Doyoung believed you were aware of Taeyong's first love. "I shouldn't tell you. Sorry, Y/N."

"It's too late, can you tell me more?"

"I shouldn't. I already have said too much."

"Doyoung, please. Taeyong never told me about Seulgi. I had no idea about another girl."

You felt hurt a bit, not because you were jealous. You were hurt because Taeyong was probably lying to you for these years. Was he in love with a girl that got away? That's why he doesn't care. You're not the one Lee Taeyong loves.

"They were seeing each other for months. He always had a thing for her. She rejected him a few times because she was supposed to move to Daegu for some time." Doyoung was looking far ahead, he didn't dare to spare you a look. "Seulgi left, he was depressed for weeks, then I met you. I introduced both of you to each other." Boy, how much does he regret that. "He was focused on you, then Seulgi came back. I guess they tried to talk, but he was dating you already."

"Now it all makes sense to me. Fuckin asshole." You weren't even hurt anymore. It seems like all the feelings for Lee Taeyong are gone. Even hate. "We've been together for the past 8 years. I've focused on him. I was like a maid! He was never there for me when I needed him the most, but I forgave him. I always did. I did this all to find out he was never truly in love with me. Bullshit." A sarcasstic laugh left your mouth while Doyoung was observing you. "Why would you ever introduce him to me? I would've dodged the bullet, Doyie. I wish you didn't."

Doyoung felt guilty, even though he shouldn't. In his eyes, Taeyong was a good man. He was sure his friend was treating you like a princess.

"Sorry, I felt he would be a good party for you. I don't know. But you can't say he doesn't love you. You don't know that."

"I think we both know that."

Awkward silence occurred between you.

"Listen, I do believe you deserve better. Don't mind him, maybe one day he will see what he has lost. Look at you, Y/N. You can't get such an asshole like him to make you feel bad. I love him, he's my best friend, but you're my friend too. I wish you would be happier."

His words were true and meaningful. Doyoung was right. You deserve better than that. In the heat of a moment, you turned your head towards him and kissed him.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't, I don't know what I was thinking-"

He stopped you with a kiss. Much stronger kiss. It was like your mouths knew each other well. As if they were missing pieces together. It's been a long time since you've been kissed.

Best friends don't kiss each other's partners, and a wife doesn't kiss her husband's best friend. That was the truth. It's been a few days, and it was awkward between you and Doyoung. Taeyong apologized to you, and he tried to be a better man for you. Somehow, you felt a bit guilty because you were married, but honestly? You wished to wake up to Doyoung every day instead of Taeyong.

"I made you breakfast."

Taeyong got into the bedroom with a plate of toast and scrambled eggs.

"Thank you."

"That's it?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" You popped your eyebrow. "I've done breakfast for you for the past 8 years, give me a break already. It's the bare minimum, Taeyong."

"I thought you'd be happy."

"I am. Okay?"

It's too late to fix things now. Breakfast in bed won't fix the damage that has already been done to you. Deep down, you wanted to feel guilty, but you just couldn't.

In the company, everyone was busy. It's April. One of the busiest months for the company. You had hopes of passing by Doyoung. Your project got accepted, whichh made your comapany's saels higher. Mark would drop by to talk shit about your co-workers. Johnny bought you a coffee, and Sooyoung called to go shopping with you. Everything should go fine.

About 7 pm, when the company was almost empty, you saw a well known to you figure. He was putting his things together, probably about to leave the building.

"Can we talk? Like adults, please? Ignoring each other won't turn back time, Doyoung."

"It's not the best time for this conversation, the building is about to close down."

"Then let's talk somewhere else. Even at the stupid bench in the park."

He took a second to rethink his life decisions.

"Let's talk at mine."

After 15 minutes, both of you arrived at Doyoung's apartment. It was located in the center of Seoul. It was maybe the fourth time you've ever been there.

"I know it's bad and awkward. I'm married to your best friend, and we kissed each other, making out even." You chuckled because of your nerves. "I shouldn't have kissed you, I guess. Sorry. But please, let's talk. I kinda miss you." He looked at you, a bit shocked. "As friends, of course."

"Well, I really want to say I regret kissing you. Really." He was pacing around the living room. "But it would be a lie. Honestly? I enjoyed it, and I would do it again, and again, and again. I don't give a fuck about Taeyong now."

His statement made you blush. He was confident in himself and sure of what he was saying.

"Fuck, me too. I know how wrong it is, but I can't help myself."

Nothing else needed to be said. Doyoung dropped everything he had held. He was kissing you like a starved man. As if he hadn't been able to see you for ages. It's a forbidden romance, and you're enjoying it.

Next thing you knew was you being in his bedroom. He was slowly kissing you down your neck, while his hands were taking off your clothes. Everything felt magical.

"Can I?" He asked with hungry eyes, his fingers on the hem of your pants. "Please?"

"Please."

It was the best sex you've ever had. Taeyong usually didn't pay you much attention. He wanted to cum and he could care less if you did. Doyoung paid attention to you, and only you. He was focused on making you feel good. He loved your body and moans you left out your mouth.

"You're amazing. I wish it was me who dated you back then." Doyoung was holding you in a spoon. His fingers were circling your shoulder. "I like you."

"I like you too."

Since then, it has become a routine for you. Taeyong wasn't suspicious of anything. He was busy working with Seulgi. He couldn't lie, but he preferred to stay at the company until late hours to finish tasks with her. He thought you were having fun with Joohyun or Sooyoung. You and Taeyong barely talk to each other, but none of you seem to mind. This marriage was meant to fail from the beginning.

"Y/N." Mark touched your shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure?"

"What were you doing at Doyoung's apartment last night? I was there to drop him off his laptop, but I saw you coming in."

This question made your heart drop. Romance between you and Doyoung was supposed to be a secret until you'd be responsible enough to divorce Taeyong.

"We're friends? And co-workers? I was doing research with him." You giggled. "What are you even thinking of?"

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He was a bit embarrassed. "You wouldn't do anything harmful to Taeyong. I thought you were doing something weird with Doyoung."

"Mark, please. How could you think about it?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you talk in weeks. He's always around Seulgi, you're meeting with Doyoung a lot, and both of you leave at different hours." He was a bit confused. "Are you guys fine?"

"Yes, we are fine, Mark. Don't worry too much."

The thought of being almost caught scared you. Your friends wouldn't understand you. They would blame you for cheating on your lovely, hardworking, and amazing husband. Especially, if you're cheating on him with his best friend. You were lonely, and you lost feelings for Taeyong long ago, he himself probably had lost them first, a long time ago.

"I know." Joohyun's word made you stressed. "Taeyong called asking about you. I covered for you every single time. You're cheating on him, right?"

It was supposed to be a chill meeting at your apartment with a coffee and cake. Joohyun loved you as if you were her sister.

"Before we go any further, don't judge me, please." You couldn't look her in the eyes. "I'm ashamed of myself, but I think that's how it was meant to be. You don't understand how it is to be with Taeyong. How is it to be unloved and ignored."

"Y/N, I'm not judging you at all. Me and Johnny support you. At first, Johnny was furious, and he couldn't believe it." She chuckled. "I guess, me too. I wasn't ready. But look at this. After Taeyong? I really admire you, and how you were able to move on with life.

"I know I'm the worst person on earth because of that. I'm ashamed to face him and tell him I want a divorce."

"Well, it's not a surprise. It's a tough topic. Let me ask you another question. Is it Doyoung?"

"How do you know?"

"It's obvious. Every time we've been gathering together, he could never take his eyes off of you."

After that, Joohyun and Johnny promised you to keep a secret. They didn't support cheating, but they couldn't blame you. Everyone thought you were living a great life with Taeyong, only to turn out it was the total opposite.

"I'll divorce him."

Doyoung was sitting on the chair on his balcony with you on his lap. He was finishing his glass of wine. As soon as he heard that, his eyes met yours.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you into anything." He said, slowly carrasing your back. "I fear that Taeyong won't forgive us. I may lose my best friend."

"At first, I thought the exact same thing." You kissed his cheek. "But now, I completely hate this guy. I lost my femininity, myself, and energy because of him. I can't look at him, because all I see is how much he hurt me and me cheating on him."

"I'm here. I'm going to support you no matter what."

Both you and Doyoung told your friends you needed to go on a trip to Jeju. You had the time of your life there. Taeyong was texting you once in a while. Doyoung made your life interesting. He gave you something Taeyong could never.

Dark nigths going on a walks on the beach. Singing songs in a karaoke bar or in your room. Doing stupid teenagers shit. Life with Doyoung was different. You felt loved.

Joohyun invited everyone from the friend group to a BBQ. It was a usual Friday. Mark was in charge of drinks with Jungwoo. Johnny was in charge of the music. Taeyong was busy with his phone, while you and Doyoung cut fruits like Joohyun asked you to.

It should be a peaceful night. Only if Seulgi didn't show up. After she came, the atmosphere tensed. Jaehyun felt uncomfortable, so did Yuta and Taeil. You tried to ignore it, but Seulgi was all on Taeyong. In public. In front of everyone's eyes.

"Why is she here?"

"I don't know. Joohyun probably invited her." Doyoung sipped on his drink. "That's wild."

"It is. That's why I hate him. Look how shameless he is."

After some time, everyone was busy with something. Some were dancing, and some were singing old hits. You were on the coach, looking at your friends having fun.

"How are you, Y/N?" Jaehyun and Jungwoo sat down on both sides of you. "We saw you're sitting like a potato here."

"I'm not drunk enough to go up and dance."

"Then drink more!" Jungwoo handed you another drink. "We're having fun tonight!"

"Exactly. You can't be depressed or something."

They were right. Soon after, you had almost five different drinks, most of them being mixed with vodka. You were dancing with the girls, then with Yuta and Doyoung. You really had a lot of fun. Until Taeyong turned the music off.

"Everyone! Can I take a second of your time?" Everyone was confused. Your heartbeat was faster, and your hands started to sweat. "I'd like to share the wonderful news with you!" He was drunk. Drunk like on Jaehyun's birthday. It means trouble. "I don't know if any of you are aware of me and Y/N. My lovely wife."

You were quick to stand up and grab Taeyong.

"Let's go. Get yourself together you're embarrassing me."

"Let me go." He got out of your hold. "As you know, we've been married for 8 years! That's a long period, right? Well, I think someone might get bored of one another."

"Taeyong, please. Stop it."

Tears came into your eyes quickly. Everyone witnessing the scene was confused. Joohyun was fast to send Johnny to get Taeyong somewhere else.

"Johnny, leave me alone! I'd like to share something with you! Our lovely, sweet, and faithful Y/N is a cheating bitch! That's right!" He was laughing devilishly, while you were on a verge of a breakdown. "Isn't it crazy? We all think about her as of an angel. Look at her. She's not all that."

"I don't think you should do it, man." Jaehyun tried to get Taeyong's attention, but he wasn't listening.

"I should. My wife is fucking my best friend, and I should stay quiet? No way! Tell us, Y/N, how long have you been fuckin Doyoung?"

People left gasps. They all turned their heads towards you. Johnny and Joohyun felt anger. He should never done this to you in a public.

"Let her go, man. I'm not kidding." Doyoung stood up and pushed Taeyong. "Are you crazy? Did you forget about fuckin Seulgi? You're not saint after all."

It felt like a nightmare. Everything was going so fast, and you could only stand there shocked.

"I was faithful to her for the longest time ever! And look how did she pay me back."

"Don't be funny, Taeyong." You managed to say it, while wiping the tears away. "How can you do this to me? After what I've done to you. I never told anyone how much of a burden living with you was! Not even once! I was there with you when I was doing every chore for you! Every little thing you needed! I let you fuck me when I wasn't in the mood, because I cared about you!" You were screaming on top of your lungs. "Y'all can judge me. You can throw names at me, I don't care! I've never been happier. None of you understand what I went through."

Your friends were in shock. They never would guess what was coming. You and Taeyong fighting in the Johnny's backyard with a people around. All the dirty things you've ever done were mentioned.

"Don't act like a victim."

"Am I not? You were using me for everything. I lost my will to live, Taeyong. You're a selfish motherfucker, who had never loved me. You've been in love with Seulgi since the beginning. You lied to me, ruined my life and I wasted all those years."

"I want a divorce."

"Me too. I hate you, Taeyong."

With that, all your group friends were confused. Joohyun, Johnny, and Doyoung gave you support. Taeil and Sooyoung reached out to you too. Mark,Haechan, Yuta and Jungwoo were confused about what to do. Jaehyun had no idea what to think, until Johnny changed his mind. They were uncomfortable with everything that'd been said that day.

Taeyong blocked your number, packed your things, and threw you out of your shared apartment. You had no choice but to move in with Doyoung.

"I love you, Y/N. I think I always did."

"I wish I had married you first." Both of you chuckled on the way to the court. "Imagine what we would have done in these years. I'm grateful we have so much to explore about each other."

Doyoung never let you down, or doubted you, or your trust. He gave you loved, you were craving for. He was a missing puzzle to your life. He helped you understand yourself, and improve yourself.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lee, oficially you've been divorced. Mrs. Y/N, succesfuly, you dropped Lee from your last name. I wish both of you happines on a new life's path."

It would be the end of the chapter titled Taeyong, now you're beinning a new one with your true love.

[darlingdarkly]

New Year, New You Part 3

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.7k Words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes

Part 2, 4

The next day is what you can only describe as controlled chaos. The office is a whirlwind of papers, people and pieces of presentation sent to and fro across the building. Maureen in marketing needs approval from Mark in finance who’s busy balancing the budget for this year and the spreadsheets from last year. Sharon has been on the phone for Three. Whole. Hours. trying to make sure the prototypes will be ready before noon tomorrow.

Tom called in sick and Mrs. Magna told Nancy to tell him that if he doesn’t show up today to never show up again. Period. That was ensued by a thirty minute yelling match between Nancy and Tom that ended when you gently took the phone from Nancy’s white-knuckle grip and told Tom if he didn’t come in you’d personally shove your foot up his ass.

Tom was in the office fifteen minutes later, quarantined in the conference room with his laptop, a growing mountain of crumbled Kleenex and very, very, grumpy. The day dragged on and on and while people who had finished with their portion of the project headed home for the day you stayed, even after your piece of the pie was secure, because at the end of it all you knew it fell to Nancy to review and review and review the final product for any mistakes and you weren’t about to let her do it alone.

As you worked, you caught up with each other, not having time to really talk since the white elephant party over a week ago. “So how was break?” You asked as you filed away two early projection models in their appropriate folders. She sat cross legged in front of you, stapling documents together. “It was nice, mom came this year, and I thought it would be a lot more barbaric but it actually was very civil. I'm proud of them for working out their differences. The way it went down last year I was still cleaning fruit cake off my ceiling a month later, remember?”

You giggled together because you did remember. That was Nancy’s Christmas reunion debacle from the previous year. You hadn’t been there but you did drop by to help her clean up and have a little wine. A bottle and a half in you both were too drunk and giggly to climb the ladder and scrap the candied fruit and cake from the ceiling.

“What about you? Did you go see your parents?” You smiled and answered. “Yeah they’re doing good, they said to tell you hello by the way. My brother too.” And the side eye she gave you was hilarious and aggravated all in one. “What? He still asks about you.” She rolled her eyes and restacked the papers in her hands. “Well he can stop.” You laughed as she shook her head. “He’s still got a crush on me after all this time.”

“Yes! He’s obsessed! I don’t know why you won’t go for him, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone anyways.” She scoffed at you. “I am not dating your brother. Not after what he did.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Nance, you can’t still be on that.” She looked offended. “After we both nearly drowned at the lake that summer. You remember, he practically pulled me under!”

You laughed remembering. “He was trying to save you!” She laughed with you and pushed on your arm. “Yeah well he sucked at it. We both nearly died.” You both were in fits of giggles at this point, papers nearly forgotten in the glow of your memories. “Besides, how do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

Your eyebrows raised at this. “Ohhh, something to confess?” She looked up from her work, eyes sparkling. “You know the guy that moved in across the hall?” You did. You both had run into him one day coming back to her place for a drink after a Saturday outing together. “You mean Mr. Dark Eyes, the one who came over and fixed your window for you?”

She practically beamed. “That’s the one. He asked me out for drinks tomorrow night.” You waggled your eyebrows at her and she laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.” It was your turn to give her an accusatory look. “It’s absolutely like that Nancy! He’s into you. I can see it! I think you should go for it, I’m glad for you, it’s time you got a little action.”

She picked up the stack she’d finished stapling and set it to the side, beginning another. “You and I both. I mean it’s not like you’ve been seeing anyone either.” You paused, thinking of Johnny. You wouldn’t call it seeing someone, but there was something between the two of you, it was momentary, your lapse in response but enough for her to notice and immediately catch on.

“Oh my god, wait. You have been seeing someone haven’t you?” You immediately refuse. “No.” “Bullshit.” “Seriously! It’s nothing.” And she wouldn’t stop until she’d pried it out of you so you began recounting your encounter at the gym, leaving nothing out.

“You’re fucking with me.” You shake your head. “No, I’m serious. Just like I told you.” She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “He legit did all that?” You nodded and she smiled. “I think you should go for it.” Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious?” She nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s totally into you. All that weird shit just means he’s obsessed. Is he hot?”

You immediately nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s strong and tan. He’s got this pretty white smile and dark hair. I knew he was a personal trainer the minute I saw him.” She hummed approval. “Definitely go for it.” You laughed nervously. “I don’t know, we'll see where it goes.”

The sun had long descended past the horizon, but you had it done. Two hundred and fifteen pages of statistics and sales projections that concluded the project. You both cleaned up the papers and put everything away. She turned to you when the elevator had stopped at the ground floor and the cold night air chilled you as the doors opened. “Wanna go out for a drink, I know I sure could use one.”

You shook your head. “I’m beat, I’m going home, eating and sliding into bed.” She nodded in understanding. “Don’t forget your homework.” She winked at you mischievously and giggled as you let out a frustrated groan. “I’m thinking about skipping it.” She shook her head. “Better not, with what you’ve told me so far it seems like there’d be consequences.” And she was right, who knew what kind of thing he’d cook up if you slacked out on it. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You find yourself in front of your door, mentally exhausted. You slide the key in the lock and feel it give as you push the door open and walk into the cool interior of your home. Flipping the lights on you drop your purse and jacket on the couch and head for the kitchen. It’s been a long day and you hadn’t even had a chance to go grocery shopping this week but you’re pretty sure you at least had a couple of eggs left in the fridge.

If all you could manage was a few scrambled eggs before you did your homework and fell into bed then so be it. You’d eat better tomorrow. You open the door on the fridge and are immediately taken aback by what you see. It’s fully stocked. There’s a whole pack of water bottles on the bottom shelf of your fridge. The chiller drawer is packed with spinach, sweet peppers, broccoli and carrots. There’s deli meat and boneless skinless chicken breasts, a few types of cheese and a new gallon of milk. Individual packs of yogurt and gatorades in all different flavors.

You open the door on your freezer to find a few more frozen packs of chicken breasts, pounds of lean hamburger meat and sausage. Rushing to the cabinets you pull them open and find low carb tortilla wraps and bread, granola bars and some kind of chips called “Veggie Straws” that you’ve always seen on the shelf but never tried.

As you turn around you finally notice the bowl of fruit on your counter. How could you have overlooked it walking in? Bananas and apples and oranges, all ripe and fresh. You didn’t do this. Either you were losing your mind and key moments in your life we’re missing like puzzle pieces lost or someone had been in your house.

Your eyes widen, breath hitched. They could still be in the house. You turn around and survey the space around you, the dark comforting tone had a queer eerie feeling setting in around the edges. The corners and shadows leering with the unknown. Nothing looked out of place or was missing, but what kind of a person came into a home to stock the fridge and leave without taking anything?

You checked the doors, the windows, no broken locks or pried open hinges, no immediate signs of forced entry. Your shoulders stiffened when the realization hits you, it takes your overworked mind a moment to remember but there it was. Your gym bag, you were nearly certain you had closed it but it was open when you opened your locker to change. Johnny.

You grabbed your purse and pulled your phone out, flicking through your contacts and hovering over his name. You momentarily waver between calling him or the police. What were you going to say? Yes officer, my home has been broken into. Did they take anything? Well, no. The opposite really. What did they leave? Groceries. Lots of them, stocked my whole kitchen with fresh meats, veggies and fruit. Yeah, we’ll get right on catching the ever elusive grocery fairy, ma’am. Top priority, don't you worry.

You started the call and he answered on the second ring, tone light and cheery with enthusiasm. “Bonnie! How was work?” You skip the pleasantries. “Do you have something to tell me, Johnny?” And you don’t know why you expected him to take the matter seriously.

“Aye lass, I did think about ye all day, sometimes with mah cock in hand, how’d ye know?” His response momentarily scatters your thoughts to the wind but you take hold of them once more and push on. “What? No! Johnny, have you been in my house?” He laughs, actually laughs. “Oh that. Yeah, did you check the fridge?”

Your brow furrowed in frustration, of course he doesn’t see it as an intrusion instead of some kind of regular thing. “Johnny, how did you get into my house?” You sit down in a chair and what he says makes you bolt upright again. “Easy, hen. I just made a key.” You’re pacing now. “You made a key to my house! How?”

And he says it casually like he’s explaining how to tie a shoe or giving someone easy directions. “I went into yer bag, found yer keys, pressed it into a mold and had one made. Simple really.”

“You can’t do that Johnny.” He interrupts. “S’alright Bonnie, I’m yer personal trainer.” There it is again. That phrase, like it’s the simplest thing to understand in the world, normal even. He’d picked you out, told you he was going to train you, you didn’t exactly protest and now anything was fair game, including crossing every single kind of boundary you could have and making copies of the keys to your home so he can come and go as he pleases.

“Besides, yer fridge was empty. What were ye gonna have fer dinner?”

“None of your business. And what if I don’t know how to cook? Did you think about that Johnny?” And this seems to be the first real thing to give him pause. “Yer right, lass. I didn’t even think about that. I’m about five minutes away, I’ll be right over.” Your eyes widen in panic. “No Johnny! Don’t come over!”

“S’alright lass, it’s really no trouble. I’ll be right there.” The last thing you needed was him showing up at the door. “No! Johnny I’m serious, don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and it feels long, you almost expect a knock at the door, even though he couldn’t possibly be there that fast, unless of course he was lying about being five minutes away and was actually right outside the whole time, or even in the house still.

“Alright. I won’t come over on one condition.” You grab for it, ready to agree to anything that will keep him from showing up. “Yes, anything.”

“I want ye tae FaceTime me while ye do yer homework.” And you’re almost relieved with the simplicity of it, but there was an underlying unease that you couldn’t shake, what was he up to? You answer slowly when you can’t come up with a good reason to say no. “Ok, I’ll call you back.”

But before you can hang up he interjects. “No. Don’t hang up, talk to me.”

“Talk to you? About what Johnny?” You start to look around the kitchen for what you’re gonna have, if he’s making you talk to him the whole way through it then it’s better to get started now. “For starters, How yer day was.”

It starts slow, your relinquishing of the accounts of the day, but as time went on and you kept talking it all just came to the surface. The stress of the day, the brutal meticulousness of it, and he made it so easy, he was so attentive, listening and responding, asking questions and letting you vent it. He even laughed so hard when you told him about threatening Tom that you couldn’t help but laugh with him, bent over in front of the stove as you let the stress bleed out of you.

It felt good, right even, like something you'd been missing out on, a key component you hadn't realized you’d been without for so long. And you found a peculiar twinge of adoration for him in the bottom of your heart, like tea leaves spelling out your heart's true desires, whether you like what you read in them or not, there they were.

You sat down to eat and he told you about his day as you ate. It was much more appetizing than a plate of scrambled eggs, you had to admit. You nearly choke on a cherry tomato when he tells you he missed you. “It’s only been a day since you last saw me Johnny, you can’t miss me.” And is there longing in his voice, or just your tired mind playing tricks again? “Aye, but I did.”

There’s a momentary pause, a space of uninterrupted silence, pregnant with things unsaid. You finally break it. “Well, I’ve got dishes and then I’ll do my homework.” What he says next makes you smile, and you’re glad he’s not able to see it. “How will I know ye’ll call me back?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll call you. If not, you'll be pounding at my door, won’t you?” You can hear the smile in his response. “Better believe it, lass. Call me.” And he hangs up.

You quickly finish up your dishes, change into something comfortable, just a tank top and shorts, and prop your phone up. Pressing the call button on Johnny’s name in the contact list you see the screen go black as you wait for him to pick up. Your image is reflected back at you in a little square in the top right of the screen and you use the time to adjust your hair and pull the hem of your shorts down lower to cover more of your thighs.

His face pops into frame and he’s smiling ear to ear and you ignore the eruption of goosebumps on your arms when you see it. “Hi, lass” You back away from the screen and into the open space you’ve made in your living room to do your exercises. “Hi Johnny.”

“God yer beautiful.” And you feel your cheeks heating under his compliment. “Stop it, Johnny. Let’s crack on.” You see him sit back on his bed as he responds. “Alright lass. Start.” So you do, starting with the sit ups. You don’t have him there to hold your feet so you slide them under the couch to hold you steady as you do the exercise. He talks you through it, counting for you so you can focus on just your movements, keeping track of your pauses in between sets so they’re evenly spaced and consistent.

“Good lass, now yer toe touches.” You rise and face the camera, bending down with legs straight as your fingertips brush your toes. “Good, just like that.” And each line of praise is like a shot of vodka, a shock of ambrosia to your system, intoxicating. You know he’s looking down your shirt with each rep, but it’s a thrill you find exhilarating instead of embarrassing for once. Halfway through he has you turn around so he can make sure you’re not dipping at the knees.

You do the first one and he groans, quiet but you still catch it. You call over your shoulder and ask if he’s ok and he clears his throat, voice full of audible gravel even in his one word response. “Aye.” You finish and all that’s left is your lunges and stretches. You bend your knees and step into the first lunge, one leg at a time til you reach your goal of ten.

You’re finished and you turn to face the camera, you see he’s laid down on the bed, eyes intense and holding yours even from the small screen of the phone across the room. “Stretches now, lass.” He sounds out of breath and you wonder what you’d see if he flipped the view to his back camera.

You sit on the floor, legs V’d and begin to stretch them wider and wider. You curse your decision for shorts and blame it on being tired and not thinking it through. You know the crotch of your shorts is pulling taut against your pussy, barely covering your panties as you stretch further and further. You start to strain, little puffs of breath and groans escaping your lips as you widen your stretch. “Hold it, bonnie.” And you do just as he asks, holding it against the potent pain accumulating in your calves and inner thighs. “Just a little more, doing so good fer me.”

You hold it for another five seconds and he finally lets you release. You’re breathing heavily as you draw your legs back together and if you aren’t mistaken you think you can hear his labored breathing as well. “Johnny.” His voice is thick with strain. “Aye, lass.”

“What are you doing?” His smirk is devastatingly handsome as he speaks. “Nothing yet, lass.” You feel emboldened and press your luck, eyes connected with his as you command him. “Flip your camera Johnny.” His eyes hold yours raptly for a few seconds before he does as you ask and the shot flips to his chest and legs lying on his bed. He’s got a dark blue comforter and you can see in the frame a pull up bar and a few weights on a rack in the corner, just what you’d expect but the first thing to catch your eye is the raging bulge in his gray sweats and your breath hitches as his hand comes into view, wrapping around the base of the stretched fabric and adjusts it to better accommodate his length.

“See what ye do tae me, hen?” You do see, you can’t look away as his hand squeezes himself through the cloth cage. Your mind, overworked and fried is trying to get you to say something, anything, but the only thing that will compute is his name. “Johnny.”

“Get up and sit down on the couch, lass.” His voice holds a tone of gentle authority, you could probably protest but you’re tired and trying to swim against the current of what your body wants is a task you’re not up for at the moment, so you give in and let him command you.

You sit on the couch at first, eyes still glued to where he’s fisting his cock through his clothes. “Sit back, hen and spread your legs.” You do sit back but you don’t spread your legs, at first. “Come on, bonnie. Jus’ like we practiced.” So you do, not as wide as you would when stretching but enough to give him a view and the tingles of anticipation thrumming through you has you on edge, like you’re standing before a cliff and about to jump, there’s no going back from this.

He groans and you watch with keen eyes as he pulls his sweats down until he’s just in his boxers, the same dark blue shade as his bed spread. “Ye wanna see more, lass?” He’s tempting you and it’s working, you do wanna see more but it’ll come at a price. “Yes.” He wraps a fist around his cock and you shift uncomfortably as your panties dampen. “Take yer shorts off.”

You sit up and tug your shorts down your legs, feeling dirty but heightened as you do, like you’re liberating something inside yourself even you don’t quite understand. He hisses air through his teeth as he spots the wet patch quickly growing and soaking the gusset of your panties.

He pulls his boxers down and his cock springs up into view, finally free and it makes you bite your lip. He’s thick and has length to boot, a good seven inches of it guessing by the comparison of his hand up against it.

There’s a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair spreading out from the base and you can’t help but moan as he wraps his hand around it and begins to tug lazily. His voice is husky and deep when he speaks.

“So pretty, hen. Are you that wet all fer me?” And you’re beyond words so you just nod, eyes glued to the way he tugs on himself. He curses under his breath and your pussy aches from the lack of stimulation. You snake a hand down your chest, descending toward the pain, itching to relieve the tension. “That’s it, lass. Let me see ye touch yerself fer me.”

So you do, just overtop of the fabric, a roll of your fingertips overtop your clit, enough to make your head tip back and moan blissfully. “Good girl.” You look back up to see him working his shaft in earnest, firm grip and steady movements. You feel emboldened by his reactions and lean forward again to rid yourself of the cloth barrier. He stops and watches as your pussy comes into view for the first time.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Fucking gorgeous.” He resumes his movements as your fingers settle over top your bare clit and you start to rub tight little circles over it, just how you like. “Show me Bonnie, show me just how you like it.” The sexual tension between the two of you, the stress of the day all come to a head and you reach down to spread your wetness up and around your clit, moaning low and sultry as he watches you play with yourself.

You reach your other hand up and squeeze one of your breasts through your top and look back up into the screen. Watching him pick up the pace, making fast even strokes over the tip of his cock with each movement. The motion of his hands, the way his tip disappears into his fist and reappears with each pass is mesmerizing. You can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building and it just drives you on as you think about coming in front of him for the first time.

Your fingers pick up speed and your moans rise in pitch as he talks you through it. “Mmm such a bonnie little pussy. I wanna see ye come for me lass. Can ye do that fer me? Come nice and hard fer me?” You suck in a deep breath as you work your body into a frenzy, pinching a nipple between your fingers as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

You look up to see him vigorously stroking his cock. His breathing is heavy and loud through the speakers and you wonder if he’ll be loud when he comes. You’re close and even though he’s not even in the same room as you he can tell, spurring you on. “That’s it hen. Just like that. Do it. Cum fer me.”

It’s all it takes to send you spiraling. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you fall over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. You let out a long drawn out moan as you do, body tensing as you pant and writhe on the couch in full view.

You look up when he calls your name, watch as his strokes quicken and shorten and then all at once he’s coming undone, legs tensing and white hot cum shooting from the tip of his hard cock. It arcs through the air before landing in spattered lines across his thighs. The guttural yell that falls from his lips as he does is loud, just as you’d expected and you wish you could feel it, the rumble of his chest when it sounds.

You’re both breathing heavily and coming down when it hits you, the post nut clarity. You just had very raw, hardcore phone sex with a man who made a copy of the keys to your home, came over without you knowing while you were at work and invaded your personal space.

You’re ashamed and a little sickened by what you’ve just done. Quickly closing yourself off from view you snatch your panties and shorts from the ground and redress. “Fuck, lass. That was fucking amazing.” You’re already working on damage control in your mind, blocking out the experience, no matter how much you enjoyed it, it was wrong.

“No Johnny. It wasn’t.” You can see him switch the camera around and he’s way more relaxed now, smile a mile wide on his face. “Aye, it was. Cannae wait tae see ye, tomorrow.”

You don’t even know if you’ll show up now, how could you after that? It was just a mistake you told yourself, a tired slip up, absolutely a one time thing. You close your eyes and when you open them he’s looking at you and you swear you can his adoration for you swimming in them. “Go to sleep, lass. I wanna see ye tomorrow at 4:30.”

You say nothing and hang up. It’s very late before you fall asleep that night, debating whether or not the consequences of not showing up tomorrow are something you can afford to risk. If you don’t show up he could just pop into your house at any time. It’d be better to just show up and act like nothing happened, that was the key, just brush it under the rug and hope he’ll do the same.

You’re nervous about it all day at work, and you know Nancy knows something is wrong but you insist everything’s ok. You’re too ashamed to tell her about any of it and she relents and leaves you alone but she knows you’re lying. When four o’clock hits you’re out the door, won’t be able to stop this frenzied state of mind until you can clear things up with him and make things go back to normal.

The next day when you walk in the door and sign in he meets you at the desk and before you even have a chance to say anything he’s on you, lips crashing into yours in a passionate and very explicit kiss right in the lobby of the building surrounded by patrons and gawking onlookers.

He doesn’t even give you room to breathe let alone get a word in as his body presses up against yours and he grabs ahold of the back of your neck to keep you locked against him. When he pulls away you’re shell shocked and silent. As he pulls you against him and walks you further into the building you know things have taken an irrevocable turn.

[daryascurse]

𝙲𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙾𝚁 ── Part I: Caveat Emptor

Love, as Coriolanus Snow had long confirmed, held no value. But lust, lust was worth something. Lust was something more malleable. Lust was a currency of the realm just as money was. And lust could be given, dispensed of, much more freely, with little baggage.

pov : tbsos book compliant, chapters alternate bwn 3rd person coryo, 2nd person reader, AFAB reader, feminine pronouns ❀ tags: sεx work, smuτ, fingering, oraI, (male receiving), finger sucking, praise/ begging ❀ word count: ~6k ❀ ao3 ❀playlist

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

Love, as Coriolanus Snow had long confirmed, held as much value as the rocks stuck in the treads of his boots. He rolled his shoe against the carpet, momentarily distracted in an effort to shake free the pebble that jutted unevenly out from the sole and scraped with each step. He didn’t have far to walk these days; he barely had reason to take the trolley. It must have taken only the few steps needed to cross the pavement into the nightclub from the car. But that was just how love was, in his experience, both lived fleetingly and observed from the folly of others. It only took a few careless steps to vex and ruin. 

With another casual but sharp shake of his foot, the errant pebble popped free. 

But lust, lust was worth some thing. Lust was something more malleable. Lust was a currency of the realm just as money was. And lust could be given, dispensed of, much more freely, with little baggage. All that was required of the parties involved was the regular care and discernment of any transaction on the market. Seller liability; buyer beware. Ever since he had cast aside love, it had, in turn, cast a new light on the value of this thing of lust that was somehow its inverse and shadow in one. It did, however, make it harder to look at or even think of Tigris, and so he turned his mind from the clinical analysis of lust to keep these ideas as separate as possible.

The thought of Livia Cardew snuck unbidden into his mind instead, and Coriolanus twitched his foot in irritation again, disguising it as a cautious step downward into the nightclub. It had simply seemed appropriate after dating for two years to invite her to move into one of the newly refurbished penthouse rooms. They shared a bed and little else. She would be awake when he returned, he was sure of it, with crossed arms and an arsenal of sharp words ready to volley from her tongue.

“The night before University graduation, really? Were you out skulking around all night? Do you know what time it is? We have to be on the grounds in only a few hours, and now I’ve had to stay up waiting for you. What is that smell on you?”

He dropped the deposit into the waiting hand of the Avox at the foot of the stairs.

She’d be Livia Snow before the year was out. No, Coriolanus reminded himself. The proposal should be tomorrow, and the wedding at the end of summer. Wouldn’t that be the cherry on top of the cake - the cake, weeping and souring in the June heat - of a beautiful graduation ceremony, where the University would prepare to send off its bright valedictorian? He would take both his diploma and his new title from the hand of Dr. Gaul, and in turn, ask Livia Cardew for her hand as the audience clapped, oohed, and aahed. A new Head Gamemaker, side by side with his new fiancée, would be a fresh angle and nice side plot for the Capitol to be entertained by. Perhaps another celebration for sore losers to focus their energies if the tributes they bet on died too quickly. It would certainly be a busy summer, with a wedding on the heels of the Games, but Coriolanus had decided on the broad strokes of this plan months before. Years, even. Now everything was just filling in the details.

Which is why he frowned at the Avox sweeping aside the thick purple velvet curtain to let him into the private room. Livia was part of that plan, and this room was not a place where any aspect of the plan had any concern. There was business here that Livia Cardew had no place for.

And if she attended to her own business the same way? That was no concern of Coriolanus’s, nor any care of his. They would need one child, just the one, and there was no rush for it yet; and anyway, that could be arranged through means other than the physical. Even though that would mean surrender of some quantity of his DNA, with no guarantee it wouldn’t be intercepted on the path to the intended petri dish…

The wide grin of Dr. Gaul was what came then to his mind, and Coriolanus shook his head vigorously. 

What disturbing thoughts.

It must be the nagging obligation of graduation looming that was poisoning his mind with bizarre visions. But that, still, was for tomorrow. Tonight, he had a hole burning in his pocket, so to speak. It had been a while. 

Too long.

He didn’t come to Pluribus Bell’s nightclub for these purposes. Of course he wouldn’t. Coriolanus didn’t need to think the reasons through, they were merely facts that he had accepted for years now - no, he would never go there, where the music played eternally, where the old man’s smile was still too kind and too knowing, even as Tigris’ lips tightened and her eyes began to dart away from his. And Tigris was another reason why he ordered the car to this, the seediest of nightclubs. He frowned again, bidding away wisps of concept before they could turn to real thought. 

This is probably the last time, Coriolanus realized, as he shrugged off his coat and took his seat in the large leather chair. It was placed conspicuously at the front of the low stage and smelt sharply of disinfectant. He was already high-profile, but there were rakish joys a university student could enjoy innocently enough. Once he graduated, he would lose the cloak of that justification. 

He picked up the glass pane nestled into a side pocket of the chair, and it chirped to life. The lights at the edge of the stage, which was only a foot or so off the ground and wrapped in the same velvet drapery as the rest of the room, lit in a pale, hesitant orange that darkened slowly to red. The tint of the glass panel adjusted with it as Coriolanus scrolled with an idle thumb through the pictures presented to him. All in forcedly promiscuous poses, all arching their backs unnaturally and pursing their lips too zealously to be convincing. He could see, through the digital glow, his fingers curling on the other side of the glass. 

“That one,” he said abruptly, selecting a face without looking too closely at it and handing the pane to the Avox standing silently behind the chair. The face expanded to fill the screen, but Coriolanus turned away before he could see her features fully. In his periphery, the Avox’s head bent in a gesture of assent, before stepping away.

By now, his mind was more skilled at shielding his brain from fully forming certain recognitions, as if he could blind the rhetorical third eye. If he could, he would have driven a stake through it at the first hint of melody that began leaking from the tinny speakers announcing the dancer’s imminent entry. At least the quality here was poor enough that he could distract himself with scornful thoughts of that, of the static and hiccupping interruptions of the sound limping along. And at least he would have a better distraction soon enough.

Another Avox materialized with a tall glass of sparkling copper liquor, but Coriolanus shook his head in refusal, and the shadow retreated. Drinking, he had found early on, only unnecessarily prolonged the transaction - and didn’t help it come to a satisfactory conclusion.

The curtain parted then, and he bit back a grin.

He might have chosen indiscriminately, but his instincts had guided him well. The woman who came weaving out of the heavy drapes was nothing short of beautiful; so much so that Coriolanus caught himself wondering what she was doing here. Whatever she lacked, it was nothing in her appearance. Even her poise had an allure, some exudation that could intoxicate him more than alcohol. Her eyes flashed at him, then lowered, demure, daring to flick up again in a gaze clearly practiced and intended to draw a paying customer in. His body began to lean closer, and he corrected it into a straightening of his posture. 

What about her was so enchanting? The gleeful urge of a pleased grin faded away, and Coriolanus shifted his weight again, adjusting his seat as he watched her. She wore the same as any other girl here - and by that, barely wore a single sheet of silky fabric wound suggestively around her frame. So how was it that it suited her more than any other? Barely a few yards away, with nothing but the air to separate them, she was closer than a finery locked behind a glass display, and he had already purchased her company. What, then, gave him this strange pause before taking what was his?

Well, no matter how captivating she was. Obviously that was part of the wares she marketed, and she was trained in the salesmanship. While he could always appreciate beauty, he was here to instill some training of his own.

That was one of the problems with places like this, and a problem he would have to find a way to avoid in the future. Sitting in a chair, looking up at a woman he paid for as she swayed over him; that never sat right with Coriolanus. Never mind being a woman. That part didn’t matter. It was just a ridiculous concept to pay anyone to look down on you. Besides that, he wanted more than just a passive show with his cock half-fisted in limp fingers. He had seen Festus Creed like that when he’d first introduced Coriolanus to establishments like this. Festus had been pathetically miserable when Persephone dumped him. He’d looked even more pathetic that night when Coriolanus turned his head in the dark crowd of the bar, hoping his friend would have the decency to look abashed or have a jaunty smile, but instead his jaw was slack and pants half-down as he gawked up at the naked ladies on the stage. That incident alone had been what convinced Coriolanus it was worth the money for a private room. More so than potential embarrassment of his own was the disturbing possibility of seeing another man, or woman, looking so foolishly debased, and knowing that that same slimy hand and glassy gaze would the next morning likely be reaching for the same bread in hotel buffet lines or pushing the same elevator buttons as he. The more control Coriolanus could have over his surroundings, the better. 

The customer is always right.

Coriolanus held up a hand, and she paused in her motions, her limbs like water. Truly, beautiful. 

But even if he could appreciate beauty, he could not let it have any power here. He could still feel a small smile on his lips as he spoke. “Come here.”

She took that shallow step down from the stage, and Coriolanus leaned back in the chair. “No,” he said, interrupting her movement again, and his hand moved down in an inviting motion to his lap. “I want you to crawl to me.”

He had to lower her. She hesitated.

“That’s right,” he said, and he felt his lips split in a smile again as she lowered herself to the floor. He watched as she palmed cautiously, one hand forward, then a knee to match. Her hips swayed as she moved. The red light painted her skin in deep contour. “Slower,” he said, and her back dipped in inviting response. Her hips pushed higher. 

Framed like a fucking heart.

Coriolanus shifted in the chair as she drew closer. Every detail about her was perfect, in a way that drove right through him, and made his thighs ache and open in a way that rarely reached him this deeply. The curve of her lip, the sweep of her eyes as she looked up at him again - if lust was a currency, he was ready to spend everything in his account. He swallowed.

She was between his feet, his legs opened to make space for her between them, and she had sat up to rock back on her heels. The fine satin sash that wound around her body wilted suggestively, as if begging him to rip it from her. His fingers itched.

“Would you like to know my name?” she asked, and even through the forced husk of a customer service voice, he could hear that she sounded beautiful, too. 

“I’d like,” Coriolanus said softly, “you to do whatever I ask of you tonight.”

She tightened her eyes and opened her mouth, but Coriolanus cut her off before that harmonious sound could flow from her lips again.

He could affect his voice, too.

“I’m sure you’ve heard other men say that before,” he said, stressing his tone in just the right place and letting it lilt in others. “I’m sure you’ve heard men make requests that you act submissive, or perhaps that you act dominant. These men sit in chairs like this and ask to play along with some fantasy of theirs. But I’m not asking for an act of play-pretend.”

I want you to know your place, he thought, looking at the woman knelt at his feet. He needed it.

She lifted her face, and Coriolanus let himself caress the side of her cheek, his thumb falling to her chin and his fingers closing in a grasp. Her skin was soft. 

“Can you give me what I want?”

“Show me what that is,” she murmured.

She was so evidently good at her job. Coriolanus had identified that immediately, even without needing to hear the snake charm of her voice. But when she finished her sentence, or when he heard what sounded like a natural pause, he turned his thumb up to trap it against her mouth, to keep that enchanting sound from doing its wicked magic. In turn, she let her lips open just wide enough to invite him in. Her tongue teased at the pad of his finger, gentle lashings of the muscle.

A clear acquiescence that she’s following his control.

“Good girl.”

It groaned from him without warning, and his instinct was to physically yank it back. But pulling himself from her wouldn’t retract the words. If anything, it encouraged her. A hand rose to clasp around his, and she pressed closer to his body. Coriolanus leaned forward, his back curving. His knees wanted to tighten around her, urges quickening at his thighs. It should be a concern, came that last whisper of unfogged mind, but Coriolanus closed his eyes, his other hand cupping the other side of her face and fingers lighting at the base of her skull as his free thumb stroked her jaw. Lust was settling faster than it usually did in this little velvet room, but why not enjoy it - one last time?

She looked at him, that carefully crafted demure glance below the silky curtain of her eyelashes. He withdrew his thumb and ran it over her lips, her own saliva glossing across her mouth in a glittering red mirage. The lights seemed to have turned an even richer shade of crimson, bathing the room in black, bronze, scarlet. His thumb shifted clumsily, a streak of silver left at the side of her mouth. She exhaled, the sharpness of breath skating warm across his skin. Coriolanus bent his neck and did something he rarely felt the urge to do in these transactions - he kissed the woman on the mouth. Her lips were chapped at the ministration of his touch, and it somehow bit at something inside him, unlocking a thirst for more, more, to drink from her in a way he hadn’t felt acutely parched for in so long. Her lips pressed gently back at his, as if this, too, was a professional line she didn’t cross often. A benefit reserved for the finest customers, perhaps. And Coriolanus Snow couldn’t imagine many men or women finer than he often visited a place like this . Festus certainly never bothered to shill out for a private room.

When the kiss broke, her hands had crept up to rest on the leather between his knees. Coriolanus saw the motion. His fingers curled at the back of her neck and his hips pushed wider, closer. 

“Go on,” he said, and he heard the huskiness creep into his tone.

She palmed over him and found the fastening of his pants. Below the cage of his elbows, she had begun to slowly tug at his zipper. Coriolanus let go of her almost regrettably. He leaned back and lifted his hips, pushing even further to the edge of the chair, and her hands somehow made the yanking of his pants down his thighs to pool at the floor a graceful motion. 

His cock was already hard, something that he felt no abashment for. Just a testament to the value of the transaction. He couldn’t see her expression as she skated her hands across his inner thighs to situate herself. The touch of her gentle hands made the fine golden dusting of hair prickle in the wake of her movement. Coriolanus stroked a hand along his length as her mouth opened. Once more, and then he urged the tip towards her. Her tongue had lolled from her open lips, and he slapped his cock gently against her.

“Mmh,” he heard her let out, almost involuntarily, and it sent another sharp, hot thrill down his spine. Her fingers wrapped around his to guide his full length into her, and as if to coax him into letting her show him she can do all he would ask of her. And so Coriolanus let go.

Her cheeks hollowed with the first suck, and Coriolanus hissed.

“Ah,” and it was from him that time. He sucked in the inhale as she dragged her tongue along the thick length of the tender vein branching up from the underside of his cock, cradling him in her mouth as her hand settled at the base to anchor herself. Coriolanus felt the muscles in his abdomen and back, wound tight, unwind with each ragged breath from his nose. He slowly fell back, relaxing into the leather embrace of the back of the chair, and his head lolled to the side.

Her mouth was warm, soft, a perfect fit, and Coriolanus pushed his hips up slowly in agreement with the pace she set. It was starting to send rivulets of heat spiking up below his skin, and his elbows rose to fumble at the buttons lining down his shirt, aching to cool off. 

“Look at me,” Coriolanus rasped out, his hands settled at the hem of his shirt and so close to the anxious work of her head. 

She had to almost pull off for that, her lips sliding up and higher from his cock and leaving the sheen of her saliva mixed with the beading precum beginning to leak from him. Drool still shone at the side of her split lips, and her eyes were bright as they rolled up at him. Perhaps an affectation of the profession, an ability to cry dewy tears at will, but, as he grabbed the side of her face, she blinked in a way that was too perfect to be fully an act. 

Coriolanus let his lips curve into a smirk, and as he pushed his hips up to slide his cock back into her mouth, he relished in the muffled moan that choked in her throat. The rhythm began to beat faster, the heels of his palms hard on her cheekbones as he held her in place. The open billow of his shirt fell to his sides, the chisel of his stomach muscles stained crimson in the light tightening with a strain that began pushing through his body in response to the urgency that had built from his loins.

“Oh,” he heard himself say, and he closed his eyes as if to hide from the words he let spill. “Oh, oh, that’s it. Good girl, good, good girl.”

She made another choking whimper that was nearly enough to make him unravel, some coil loosening in his shoulders and tightening again below. 

That might have been enough on any other visit to the velvet room. He would have held her face between his heads, the warmth of her breath enveloping him and her lips closing as he let that sensation within him erupt. When he was spent into her mouth, no matter what she did with that, he would leave a few coins in recognition of her service and pay the remainder of the club’s amount on his way out the door. He would button his coat to the neck and climb into the car, head back to the penthouse, and turn a deaf ear to Livia’s lectures as he readied for bed. But he found an aching in his bones that night - that he wanted more . It was his last night here after all.

Might as well get some bang for his buck, as that prehistoric saying went.

“Oh, oh,” Coriolanus said, and pushed with a gentler strength than he would normally, to ease her off his cock before it was too late. She acquiesced easily, strings of saliva beading out and connecting her to him still as she rocked back on her heels. 

Her eyes were still weeping involuntarily - or, again, perhaps craftily - and she lifted a finger to wipe delicately at their corners. That satin, wound around her like a snake, shifted again, bent dangerously high in the valley between her kneeling thighs. 

“Come here,” Coriolanus breathed before thinking. 

She rose, and he saw it, her foot sway a little unsteadily. Perhaps more than a dance and a suck was something she wasn’t used to either. But she raised a leg around his hips to straddle him, and Coriolanus tugged at the satin. He ran his hands among the smooth length and she shivered under his touch, her eyelids sinking and another “ oh ” sighing from her perfectly parted lips. That, Coriolanus could appreciate, more than the forced falsity of the other women in the glass pane’s catalog. Even if it wasn’t natural, it was a convincing enough act.

As he found the knot at her hip, she reached up to her mouth, rolling each finger across her tongue in turn.

“Can I?” she asked.

Coriolanus raised his eyebrows at her. His fingers were busy on the knot. “Can you what?”

He knew what, and more than that, his body knew what.

“I want to hear you ask it,” he said in gentle facade when she hesitated for just the right amount of time.

“Can I touch you?” she barely whispered.

The light in her eyes shone like rubies in the red room. 

Coriolanus paused, and he thought he would be undone at the heartbeats between the reply. “You can.”

She reached, her fingers wet and dripping red diamonds. He groaned, shuddering forward and letting his head rest on her shoulder, his own fingerwork frozen a minute when she wrapped around his cock. The warmth was back, that snug fit rolling through him as she stroked her fingers up and down. This, this was what the money was truly for, and this is what it was worth; better than his solitary work in the shower where he had to bite back grunts and groans as he spilled down the drain. 

The determination not to do it yet was what gave him the strength to pick the knot free at last, and the satin slithered from her body in one fine sheet. There was a sense of a tug, and he felt that her other hand had fisted at the fabric of his open shirt. Coriolanus shook into the crook of her neck, and his hands pushed at the purchase of her hips.

“Oh!”

It was a yelp, a sign that something in the knead of his hands was more powerful than she was accustomed to, and he squeezed again. 

“Move,” Coriolanus managed. “Move- up.”

She understood, lifting her hips - or perhaps he guided them higher up his lap before he freed his grasp - and her hands found his shoulders then to lean on, audaciously grasping his skin below the splayed shirt collar.

He moved his fingers between her thighs, keeping her from lowering entirely, and she gasped at the sudden contact of his fingers against her cunt. 

“Oh- f-”

He allowed himself a heavy exhale at just how wet she was. That’s something even the best couldn’t fake. He slid his fingers through the folds and pushed two inside at the same time. Her body didn’t even give resistance, that’s how easy it was to swim in her velvet, but her fingernails bit at his shoulder and she choked on another wail as she dropped her head.

It was too sweet.

“I didn’t expect that,” Coriolanus raspsed. The truth came from him impulsively, in a rare moment of abandon. “You got so wet just from putting your mouth on my cock?”

The words sounded dirtier than they should have as they broke from his lips. She sucked in an inhale. 

“Tell me.”

“I - mm hmm.”

He understood the message, but her gentle failure to fully admit it came across as less coy and more smug to his ears. She was no better than he, to refuse filthy words here. He turned his thumb up, pressing to her clit, and then he pressed hard. She gasped again, her inner muscles fluttering over his touch. Coriolanus gave a rub of his thumb, and she pushed her hips forward as if to seek more of the friction. He lifted his touch in denial.

“I said, tell me.”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “It - yes , you got me so excited, so, so w- wet.”

The keening confession earned her another gentle circle of his thumb. Her thigh muscles went slack in the hold over his. Before long he could work three fingers into her, massaging at her walls, and when he teased the side of a fourth against her skin, that’s when she broke.

“Plea- please,” and it made him grin again.

“What?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

She shook her head in agony. “Please, please,” she whispered. “Please fuck me.”

The way she half-wailed drowned out the last of the pathetic music from the speakers, and he found he really liked it.

Coriolanus slipped his fingers out, dragged her wetness down to his cock where her saliva had begun to dry and tack in the arid basement. He urged it up, his other hand locked on her waist to guide her hips.

All she had to do was lower herself to him one more time.

Her hands steadied at his shoulder, and he could feel the head of his cock cresting at her entrance. 

“Good girl.”

Because of how wet she was, he slipped right in, and Coriolanus shuddered. He let go as she sank down, leaning back against the plush leather. He could see the quaver of her limbs as she tried to ease herself. He was barely halfway in and she was visibly shaking at the way he must have started to stretch her. All she could do is moan, quietly, taking slow breaths as she went.

“Oh - ”

He held his hands at her hips and bit back a grating groan. Within him, the tsunami wave was drawing high, higher, almost crested when she finally took all of him in her and was flush against his body. Forget any clumsy fumbling of his cock alone over the shower drain. The one time he and Livia Cardew had tried to find a rhythm in the sheets; no, this urgency was not a rushed one to have the experience over with. This was a ravenous hunger.

She rocked on his lap, Coriolanus moving her with the strength still trained in his arms as his cock dragged inside her, gently tugged with each sway of her body. His fingers curved, dug into her back, unable to settle in just one place as the friction of her body rubbed against his. He could feel the stuttering of her breath as she rode him.

“Mm- fuck -”

“Fuck. You’re so - you’re sucking me right up.” Coriolanus licked at the corner of his mouth. “Good, good girl.”

He let his hand back for a moment and spanked her.

She howled and thrust her hips forward. 

Sweat beaded at his hairline, and he could feel the lines of his face tightening in concentration. His hold hardened, and her chin jerked back, her eyes rolling and lips parted. 

Coriolanus realized suddenly just how much he was holding back, and he thought - what for ? Her delicate grace was so clearly just a professional facade. The way she clawed at him and stuttered her breath, that was real. He was quite good, by now, at identifying fellow liars. She was evidently enjoying it as much as he was. 

Her lithe beauty wouldn't break.

He gripped her hips hard with both hands and thrust his hips up, pounding into her body at an urgent pace. The pleasure was making his muscles tremble. Focusing that strength steaded him, concentrated him on each rolling wave, on that tsunami threatening evermore to break. He squeezed again, spanking her again, and then again, as it made her keen and rock her hips faster. 

“Fuck - t-touch me - please?”

“Hmm?”

“Please,” she said, almost sobbing and her voice hiccuping with each unsteady bounce.

The way she begged made him grit his teeth and focus, and he waited a moment - to tease her, to steady himself - before he let go with one hand, returning his thumb to the space where their bodies met. His skin was sheened with sweat and the shining, crimson-lit trail of her arousal marbling the base of his cock, barely visible with the launches of her body. Coriolanus worked his finger between and felt for a place that made her raise her voice in that delightful way again.

It worked.

She cried out something that, for a moment, didn’t quite make sense to him. “I’m coming!” Coriolanus hadn’t heard those words in a place like this, where she was already here, not these words from a woman, but his body recognized them as soon as she finished her wail. Something in the walls of her cunt tightened, sucking around him, and then throbbed in hot, rushing convulsion. 

“Oh- ”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Coriolanus said, and it made him shudder at the raw agony he let into his voice. But it was impossible to hide the difference this made, and he withdrew his finger to focus on fucking into her again. 

A half-formed thought flew across his mind, and he pushed his glistening fingers to her lips. “Suck.”

She curled closer to him, one hand still pushing at him for balance, as she clasped the other around his forearm. Coriolanus thrust his fingers into her mouth and groaned as her tongue smacked him clean of her.

His strokes came quicker, faster, rougher, a cacophony of skin and creaking chairs and hot, heavy breaths from two sets of lungs. And without much warning, he threw his head back, throbbing inside her warm cunt, and let loose an anguished cry. She shook as he came, hard, each spurt pushed from him until he felt boneless. The feeling of her still wrapped around him kept him weak.

It was a few moments before her hands slid down his chest, and he managed to tap the side of her hip.

“Alright,” Coriolanus said, and it didn’t sound as casual, as strong as he would have liked. He swallowed, almost moaning when she pulled herself off him, the arid chill of the room prickling over his flushed and sweaty skin. He almost patted his pocket for a handkerchief before remembering it was in the jacket behind him - dangerous, how much this was rattling his mind from the simplest things. Instead of standing yet, he lifted a corner of his shirt to wipe at his face. 

The mismatched sound of laboring breath still filled the room. When Coriolanus looked up, she had sunk to her knees again, drawing the satin sash between her hands to re-wind it around her body. The wild thought seized him, how she would look with his hands binding her with that very sash - perhaps even in his penthouse bed, where he could put her properly on her back, and he had to shake his head to make the fantasy flee.

A very worthy farewell.

He was almost sad to see this part of his life go, and he tipped extremely generously with little hesitation. 

Coriolanus slept sounder than he had in a while, even with Livia prodding at his ribs before the sun fully rose and snarling at him to get ready. Even the curt note left from Tigris at the dining table leaving her clearly insincere regrets, but she didn’t think the Grandma’am had strength enough to muster for the ceremony and they would stay in with Mrs. Plinth, could dampen the strange warmth settled in his chest. It struck him, as he took his place at the head of the graduation line, that this was perhaps satisfaction. Sincere satisfaction in a way that all the little moments of pride through his time at the University had been building to, all tied with a nice little bow. Every want, every need attended to, and more within his reach waiting to be handed to him at the denouement of the ritual. Festus Creed passed him on his way to his seat, clapping him on the shoulder and giving him a childish thumbs up, and Coriolanous let his teeth split in genuine glee at his friend. The weight of the ring box knocked in the pocket of his graduation gown, but even that heaviness was not an anchor, but a sturdy climbing hold. One of the last ones he had to clamber over. He felt like a cat lapping up the last dregs of a rich bowl of cream. 

Livia was somewhere down the line, her pinched face hidden in the sea of matching caps. Coriolanus took the stage to give his valedictorian speech, planning to polish it off with the proposal. As he shuffled his papers, more prop than necessity, he waited for the commencement speaker to finish - some lofty, thin-voiced broadcaster the graduation committee had accepted with the wheedling donation of the Flickerman family - and scanned the rows of his classmates looking for her in preparation of that moment. It struck him how many faces he didn’t recognize. Though the University was small and elite, and while he, of course, was notorious to all, Coriolanus hadn’t spent his years bothering to make new friends or to oogle classmates. Anyone he hadn’t recognized from the Academy was likely some scholarship student from one of the less-prestigious secondary schools at the outskirts of the Capitol, and not worth his time. But here, he was forced with the fact that he would be speaking to a notable statistic of strangers. There was Festus, of course, and Lysistrata in the row behind him. He squinted, looking for Livia.

And then he saw another face he recognized, a face that made him start, lean forward, and almost miss the way the commencement speaker had stepped back and extended his hand to introduce Coriolanus to the podium. 

“...your valedictorian, Coriolanus Snow!”

He rose automatically, the papers beginning to slip between the sweat gathering between his fingers. The anticipatory applause began to rise from the sea of classmates and spectators. 

Except one person wasn’t clapping, a young woman eying him below the brim of her cap. 

That joyous satisfaction alighting his bones began to settle into unease. This, too, was a feeling he recognized as one he hadn’t felt in a while. A very long while. This was the reeling sense of control threatening to slip from his fingers, and he clenched his papers.

Coriolanus still hadn’t found Livia in that crowd. But he did see the woman from the velvet room, waiting, with the rest of his class, to graduate.

Part II: Ferae Naturae

[drvscarlett]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

Pierre Gasly x ex!reader

Summary: The 4 times that they break up and get back together and that 1 time they didn't.

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: im on a roll with updating the Tortured Drivers Department now that im nearly done with every reqs. I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think or feel about this

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

"You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots"

Pierre and Y/N are the type of people that is confusing to talk about. No one really knows the big deal between the two of them, are they friends or are they lovers? One minute everything is all good, they are about to go to the store and pick out rings then the next thing that you know they already broke up. What was constant was that they always find their way back to each other.

Maybe it’s the lifestyle that makes it work; Pierre is a famous F1 driver that travels the world most of the year while Y/N is a grand recluse of a writer that is trying to find her way to the market. They don’t need much time from each other, and they understand the busy structure of their work.

Maybe its also the fact that they have years of friendship backing them up that's why they were able to last long with each others antics. So, what happened to them?

I.

The first kind of break ups were pretty silly. It was usually something that could be fixed in a matter of hours or a day being away from each other. Its something very random and weird like this.

"Wait, so you are breaking up with me because you are writing?"Pierre was confused.

Pierre had been in relationships before but he has never once heard of someone wanting to break up with him because she has to meet a certain deadline.

He felt very whiplash by the whole situation because she was just kissing him and they were cuddling in bed in the morning. Now she wants to break up with him.

"Yes Pierre, I need to be in my most heartbroken self to write my best lines"Y/N confirms.

"So does this mean that once you finish this thing you are working on then we can get back together?"Pierre clarifies.

Y/N nods as she brings out her working laptop and a notebook.

"So should I say something mean or should I just leave you be to your senses?"Pierre wondered.

"Do you really wanna break up with me so badly?"Y/N had too much of Pierre's question

Pierre raised his hands in defeat.

"Okay then lets break up"

Pierre headed straight back to his room to allow Y/N to work on her things. He chuckles at himself with the weird antics of his girlfriend, (or should he say ex girlfriend) but he busies himself with some emails that he has from work.

It took Y/N two days before she comes crawling to their shared bed. Pierre was in a sleepy state when Y/N snuggled to his arms.

"Are you done?"Pierre wondered.

"Yeah,just passed my manuscript"Y/N agrees.

"Can I call you my girlfriend again?"

II.

Qualifying was extremely difficult today with Pierre taking p15. To make matters worse there was this pressing issue that Pierre might be axed from the team. It honestly frustrated him to the point that he was only doing sim work, training, and more training.

It worries Y/N a great deal especially when Pierre seems so out of it.

"Pierre c'mon get some rest" Y/N begged.

It was already 2 in the morning and there was still a race tomorrow but he insisted on hitting the gyms to train.

"You are going to be exhausted later during the race if you keep doing this"Y/N reminds.

"I don't care, I have to work hard"

"Pierre please listen to me"

"You're the one who is not listening to me"Pierre snaps "Don't you realize that I have the possibility to lose everything that I have worked hard for if they cut me off the team."

Y/N was in shock with the sudden outburst and if Pierre was in his usual self then he would have immediately apologized for raising his tone. But Pierre was far from thinking clearly.

"Pierre that was not nice"

"Nothing is ever nice in this world"scoffs Pierre.

"Look I'm just trying to help you he-"

"You know what, why not just break up with me so I can focus on my thing without anyone nagging" Pierre suggested.

She could feel the tears prickling her eyes and threatening to fall. But her mother did not raise her cry over a stupid boy like this.

"You're really going there huh" Y/N said "See if I care"

With a slam of the door, Y/N was gone and Pierre felt even more antsy than ever. It wasn't the fact that he has a messed up weekend but he has the possibility of messing up a good relationship because of his blind rage.

In a couple of hours despite Y/N implying that she didn't care, she was at the race patiently waiting for the lights to go out. It was difficult for her to just leave Pierre especially when he is in this state of mind.

But of course, Y/N's pride was something that she holds dear that is why she didn't show up to Pierre's garage. It is kind of weird to see the crowd of yellow and black colors but Y/N was so glad that she has Isa by her side to join her during the race.

"Never gets easier to let him go for races huh"Y/N comments as she watched Isa putting on Carlos' helmet.

"Well, I'm sure he tries his best to be careful on the track" Isa smiled.

"Why aren't you giving any pre-race goodluck kisses to Pierre? He might need it" Carlos suggested.

Y/N could just roll her eyes, Pierre wasn't superstitious like that.

"Okay laugh all you want but don't make me say I told you so if he gets involved in an accident"Carlos warns.

"Don't mind Carlos, he is just joking"Isa shrugs it off.

"But Isa, its true remember when-"

"Stop stressing Y/N out Carlos, go race and be safe"

"Aye aye"

Y/N watched the playful interaction before the couple parted ways. The scene struck a chord in her heart because she knew that she could never act that way with Pierre. Their whole relationship was a secret that only the grid knows Y/N is off limits. But outside the grid, no one knows about it. Fans equate them as close friends but never more than that.

"What's on your mind honey?"Isa asked

"Nothing Isa, I'm okay"

Y/N showed a weak smile and Isa was hesitant to press things but she just let friend be.

"Look the race is starting"Y/N diverts.

The sound of the engines filled the air and off the cars go. Y/N watched as everyone gets off with a decent start, she could only hope that there was no incident today especially for Pierre's sake.

Everything happened all of a sudden as white smoke filled the air and a loud collision was heard. The cameras were quick to pan to the accident and the two girls clutched each other's hands as the smoke clears.

"It's Nico, its not Carlos" someone from the garage reassured Isa and the girl could feel a sigh of relief.

However, the same cannot be said to Y/N as the frustrated team radio of Pierre can be heard and the familiar livery was seen in the middle of the wreck.

Any amount of pride or memory of what he said last night was suddenly thrown out of the window. She just wants to know how he is or if he is safe from that tragic collision.

"Y/N, they're going to check on Nico" Isa pointed out to some Renault people "You should probably go since Pierre would be there too"

Y/N was about to deny that she didn't want to see him but Isa had a stern look on her face.

"Just go honey"

And she comes running to the medical bay to look for the injured man. She was a bit thankful that precautions have been made in this sports that allowed drivers to walk away from such accident without major damages.

Maybe, a bruised ego is their biggest worry now.

"Y/N"Pierre was confused to see her.

Maybe the damage has been far more worse than he imagined because he was now seeing things. As far as he could recall, Y/N was not around when the race started. So how is she here?

"God, you scared me P"Y/N wrapped him in a hug.

Pierre was a little bit sore from the crash but there was this instant warm feeling knowing that Y/N didn't abandon him. Even if he was really moody and too shitty, Y/N was still there for him.

He remembers how terrible it was being in that car and thinking that the last memory he shared with Y/N is a bad one. He didn't feel great at all so he held her as if its his second chance.

"I didn't mean what I said last night"Pierre whispered "I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings. I wasn't thinking straight and there is just a lot of pressure-"

"It's okay, I know Pierre"Y/N consoles "I won't be leaving you anytime soon"

A chaste kiss was shared between the two of them, a symbol that they have reunited once more.

III.

The third time they broke up was when Pierre asked her hand for marriage and she didn't say anything.

After being constantly invited to weddings, Pierre is bound to pick up some courage to ask Y/N out. He developed this dream that he wants a life with Y/N and he is ready to take it to the next level. Knowing Y/N, he picked the right size and the perfect ring. He also knows her dream proposal place which is somewhere with a view of the city.

He had everything planned out perfectly so imagine his surprise when she answers.

"Pierre, I can't do this" Y/N dropped the bomb.

"What? Why?"

Y/N felt like an extreme asshole because everything was perfect. Any girl would say yes to this prime opportunity of marrying their childhood bestfriend but Y/N sees through things.

"Pierre we aren't even official to the public and now you want to escalate it to marriage" Y/N reasons.

"So that's it, you don't want to marry me because I can't call you mine in public?"

"It's not just that" Y/N sighs "but our careers are just taking off and we haven't talked about our relationship yet and suddenly were going to go to marriage"

What Y/N saying was valid but Pierre was not listening to any of it. He felt very crushed and he could not think straight at the moment.

"Let's just break up if you can't see a future with me"

"Pierre, you know that's not what I meant"

"Then tell me how would you feel if the person you truly loved didn't want to marry you"Pierre roared.

It was a devastating scene between the two of them. How Y/N wished that she could undo what she said a few minutes ago but she knows that she only means well. A rushed marriage will also lead to rush separation and she will not put herself to that.

"Let's break up then, I think its best if we go our seperate ways for the time being"Pierre concludes.

It took them three long weeks before they got back together. It was due to an intervention by Charles that allowed them to speak again and talk their differences. Pierre has been more understanding now and heard Y/N's point out.

They got back together but it felt like there is a huge crack that took a heavy blow with their relationship.

IV.

Y/N had a terrible day at work with her manuscript being asked to be revised by her publisher. All she needs was a good rest and possibly some cuddles with Pierre. She prays as she twist the doorknob that Pierre was not in his one of his moods.

"Mon amour"Pierre called out "I was waiting for you"

Pierre can cook but it doesn't mean that he does it often. It was a good surprise for Y/N to see the dinner table set with all of her favorite dishes and an array of fresh flowers in a bouquet. She eyes the man warily as she takes a seat

"I didn't miss any important dates, didn't I?" Y/N asked.

"Is it bad that I wanted to do something special for you?"

In other days, she would want to argue about it but for today she didn't want to do any of that. She had no energy to question Pierre's weird behavior and she just wants to enjoy the dinner with him.

It was a lovely dinner but Y/N knows that Pierre was hiding something from her. As she was putting away the plates, she knew that she had to get an answer or she may fall asleep overthinking things.

"What is going on P, I'm actually scared you did something stupid that's why you are buttering me up so much"

Pierre lets out a heavy sigh, they knew each other too well that they can't really keep a secret with each other.

"My PR talked to me today and they wanted to announce a relationship to help my whole image"Pierre confesses.

Articles are very easy to miss but as a writer, Y/N knows how a different usage of an article changes the meaning of the sentence. Pierre used "a" rather than "the" which means he is not referring to their relationship.

"Who is it?"Y/N wondered

"She's a model, her name is Caterina" Pierre explained.

There was a heavy silence in the room as Y/N dried out the dishes. She knew that this was all because she was not very marketable due to her timid personality. She was not even famous for her books so that's another reason. Bottom line, they can't announce her because she seems very different from Pierre and she is not the WAG material.

"How long?"

Y/N was used to this kind of treatment. She felt like she accepted this as long as she can get to keep Pierre at the end of this whole thing. People would think she is crazy but love makes people do crazy things.

"Just 6 months and its over"Pierre answered.

It was also very difficult for Pierre's end. He have tried to lobby that he wanted to announce his relationship with Y/N but he is held by a contract. If he decides to deviate then he might lose his seat.

He knows how difficult it was to ask her for this but he had no choice.

"I'll get packing then and I'll move out in the next few days"Y/N mumbles.

Pierre stopped her for leaving and held her tightly. She instantly melts in his hold and she easily reminds herself why she puts up with all of this.

"I love you, don't you forget that"

The world moved with Caterina being announced as Pierre's girlfriend. However, they didn't know that after 6 months then Pierre is back to Y/N's arms. It was always Y/N and Pierre even if the world can't see it.

V.

It started with a normal dinner reservation.

Y/N has been promised by Pierre that he will take her out for dinner. They both understand that the past few weeks has been tiring for the two of them with the stress of racing, writing, and personal issues. The dinner is a nice way to reconnect with each other.

However, here she was already an hour waiting for Pierre to show up.

The hour goes from two to three and by the fourth hour, she decided that she will just go home. She have felt upset with Pierre before but this was a different kind of upset. It's not something to be fixed by flowers, vacations, or any of those stupid letters he does.

She reaches their shared apartment and started packing her stuffs. Her mind was already made up and this time it was going to last. The relationship was doomed to failure anyways.

And just before she finished packing, Pierre stumbles in.

"Y/N, do you have a schedule tonight?"Pierre asked.

He was met with silence as the writer ignores him.

"Oh c'mon what did I do wrong this time?"Pierre complains "Sit and talk with me Y/N"

Pierre could only stop Y/N by bringing all her packed clothes out of her suitcase. Something that heavily irritated Y/N, which caused her to finally speak.

"Can you just let me pack in peace"Y/N begged.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong"Pierre stops "Do you have a flight somewhere? Maybe I could drive you"

"You don't have to drive me Pierre"

"Then what's going on, I arrive here and you are fuming there-"

"You made me fucking wait four hours"Y/N snapped.

Pierre racked his brains for anything that he missed and he suddenly remembered how he reserved dinner with her. He felt like all the color drained on his face.

"Don't do this, I'll make it up to you Y/N" there was a desperation in Pierre's voice.

"I can't, we can't keep doing this P"Y/N admits it "We keep on breaking up and then making up then we act like this is a healthy relationship. We can't do this"

Strong arms wrapped around Y/N's waist and she could feel the wetness on her shoulders as Pierre buried his face there. It was proving more and more difficult for Y/N to leave him.

"I have to do this P, for you and for me"she remains firm.

"Tell me you don't love me"Pierre refuses to let go.

And Y/N cannot admit that because she knows she will always love Pierre. But she was scared that in loving Pierre so much then she may not have any love left for herself. She doesn't know what to do if she loses Pierre so its best if she will be the one to let go of him first.

"I'm sorry Pierre"

With a heavy heart, she removes the him away from her. She picks up her bags and closes the door. She left without taking a look back at the man she has loved from childhood till now because she knows that the moment she sees him then all form of control she has will evaporate.

And everything was two years ago. Here is Y/N with her third best-selling novel book signing tour. Sometimes she likes to think that she lost Pierre to be able to write the books that made her extremely famous. Most of the times, she wishes it never happened because she would rather have Pierre than these best selling novels.

It was her first time in Europe for work. She was often here to watch and support Pierre from the sideline. She never thought that she will be back in Europe so loved and so adored.

But it seems like destiny has a way of messing things up.

"Hi! What's your name?"she greets the woman in front of her.

Even though it has been a long day, she managed to master the art of keeping a perfect smile. She understands how the fans have been waiting in line for so long and she has to give them the best experience as she signs their book.

"My name is Kika, I'm a huge fan of yours" the woman introduced.

Y/N looked up to take a look at her. Kika had a dazzling smile and has this certain aura that exudes her charmingness. Y/N felt that she should be the one asking for Kika's signature because she looks like a stunning goddess.

"I really love the way you write things and I used to read it with my boyfriend when he is not racing"Kika narrates.

Racing, its been a while since Y/N heard that. She completely cuts off that certain topic ever since she left Pierre.

"Oh that sounds like a fantastic way to bond as a couple"Y/N agrees

"Yeah and actually my boyfriend told me that he knows you. I was actually wondering if he is joking but I figured that maybe he is"

There was this sinking feeling in her heart but Y/N would like to think that she made some friends in the F1 grid so this may be their girlfriend. Or maybe her boyfriend is bluffing.

"He races? In what kind of race"Y/N asked,she was careful.

"Oh he does Formula 1, his name is-"

"Kika mon amour"

Y/N didn't have to hear the voice twice to know who that voice belongs to. She knows that voice very well and she couldn't believe her rotten luck.

"Pierre, we were just talking about you"Kika embraces Pierre.

Pierre was shifting nervously and Y/N suddenly realized that Kika doesn't know anything about the shared history between the two of them.

"Oh so you are Pierre's new girl" Y/N knew how to act "I'm so pleased to meet you and yes I know Pierre from childhood"

"See mon amour, I was not lying"Pierre teased.

"So you do know her, we should definitely set up a lunch or dinner together"Kika exclaimed "I can't believe that my favorite author is your childhood friend"

She has that bright and genuine smile on her face. It was that certain genuineness that Y/N makes her heart crack. Why did she have to be so sweet and kind, its so difficult to fault her of anything.

"Y/N is one of the best authors, I know" Pierre proudly states "She has a way of tugging hearts"

"Indeed she has, I remember that when I first started reading one of your series I was so hooked and I wanted to pattern my dream partner to how you write the character of.."Kika babbles.

And everything felt like fading in the background. But Y/N didn't miss how Pierre was looking at Kika so lovingly and so endearing while Kika was rambling excitedly. The heart that was once healed was getting torn up once more because of what's happening in front of her.

[soulprompts]

hello it is i, your local tumblrarian, here to drink tea from her pumpkin mug and tell u the following important announcement: being on tumblr every single day is possibly not a great idea. let's use a metaphor here. it's like squeezing a lemon every day, but it's only got so much juice, you'll only end up getting frustrated and upset that the juice is no longer flowing. and then it's building up this habit of squeezing lemons every day, but then one day you're not around and you're worried, because what if the lemon had juice today? what if we missed the juicing opportunity?

but now let's sprinkle in the following notion: every once in a while, we step outside of the lemon juicer, and we go to the market to buy more lemons. the next day, we wake up, we go back to the juicer, and what do you know! the juice is flowing again!

gonna step back from the metaphor here to just explain a few things. we have all been in the situation of staring wretchedly at the computer screen, begging for a drop of inspiration. most of us are online each and every day. and that's okay! i'm the same! but maybe we need to refresh the cycle here, because i took a day to myself today, i consciously refused to go online until 6PM, and even that 24 hour break was enough to get some very exciting ideas going! and tomorrow i'll be writing more than i have in weeks!

we put too much pressure on ourselves to be here 24/7, and it's time that we just knocked that out and started treating writing as what it always was: a hobby. so go take a break. go out for a walk, go get lunch in a nice cafe, step away from the computer and just let yourself do something that isn't absorbed in writing or in your education/career.

[thebearer]

hey 🫶🏻 if you could would you be willing to write a piece where carmys girl has been wildly stressed with work or whatever and can’t sleep at night and he calms her down and they talk abt it. then they make some food together or somethin 💗

You waited until Carmen was asleep, the soft snores growing louder and louder, body fully relaxed against the mattress before you slipped out, snagging your laptop off the chair and tip toeing to the living room.

You'd been working on the marketing pitch for days now, the deadline dwindling closer and closer. Normally, you would leave work at work, but this one was huge. Every resting moment, you found your mind racing back to something else you might have missed. Carmen had told you it was perfect, insisted on it, trying to pull you back to him. You knew he was just worried about you, didn't want you spiraling and spinning out like he did, but you couldn't help the racing of your heart.

The blue light glow made you flinch, jabbing the button to lower the brightness. You turned your head down the hall, listening for any sign that Carmen was awake, only to be greeted with a hearty snore instead.

Good, I'll just go over it one more time. Make sure the visuals are right for the vision board. Fuck, I think they might be too crowded.

Your mind raced, hunched over at the countertop, fingertips flying over keys, dragging over the touch pad, chewing anxiously on your lip before reverting it all and trying again. It was only supposed to be a quick look, a final go through so you could go back to sleep.

Carmen's voice, softly calling your name had you jumping, head snapping towards the shuffling, sleepy figure creeping towards you. "Baby, it's three am." Carmen's voice rasped, heel of his hand rubbing his eye. "What're you doin'?"

"I just... I have to finish this really quick, and then I'll come to bed." You whispered softly, hoping your gentle tone would lull him back to bed.

"C'mon, don't do this t'me." Carmen begged, tired blue eyes that had your heart flitting even in the moonlight. "Come to bed."

"Carmy, I'll be right there. I just have to finish this last-"

"-Come to bed." Carmen's voice was firmer now, one hand extended out to you. "You're off the clock. What did I tell ya? It's not business hours, you don't worry about it."

You rolled your eyes, looking back at your screen. "Yeah, you're one to talk." You muttered. "I just have to finish this, Carm, ok? If I don't good on this, I'll get fired."

"You're not gonna get fired." Carmen said softly, scooting steps closer to you. He was warm, pressed against your back, still soft from sleep. You leaned back into the touch, eye lids pulling gently.

"This presentation is perfect, and you know it. I know it. We all know it." Carmen muttered. "You're gonna do great tomorrow, but not if you don't sleep, ok?"

You knew he was right- fuck, of course he was right. If you weren't so sleepy, you would be mad, but the idea of his arms and your warm bed were too alluring at this moment. You saved your changes, letting Carmen pull you back to bed, laptop on the charger and your face buried in the soft cotton of his chest.

"You're gonna do great, you know that right?" Carmen muttered.

"Yeah," You scoffed. "What if I don't? Then I'll be unemployed-"

"-You won't." Carmen's hand rubbed down your spine. "But if it does, we'll figure it out."

"But-"

"We'll figure it out." Carmen said, chin tucking so he could look at you. "But you'll do great. You're great at everything you do. Fuckin' amazes me, ya know? You just don't even try and you're just great."

"No, I'm not." You blushed, melting into his chest at the words.

"You are." Carmen nodded. "You've got that-that thing, ya know? You just impress everyone so easily. You could sell anything without tryin'. It blows me away."

"Thank you." You muttered softly, pressing yourself into his chest, the burn in your chest growing, emotional at his sweet words. "I love you. Thank you f'saying that."

"Not just sayin' it. It's true and you know it." Carmen grins, lips brushing the top of your head. "I love you, baby. Gonna keep my arms around you this time so you don't escape again." He tightened his grip around you playfully, your soft giggles making his chest bloom with comforting warmth.

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 10

Late night post! Couldn't sleep! Have some tooth rotting fluff!

Masterlist

The days dragged on, Mihawk actually busy for once with Navy orders to investigate a new emergence of rookie pirates at the edges of Doflamingo's territory. The world leaders knew that the pink moron would rather turn a blind eye to any criminal activity in his region. 

Even with his experience with much of the Grand Line and the New World, it still took Dracule a few days past a month for him to even return back to Gloom Island. He found that he missed you terribly, to the point that even Perona had pointed out his less than stellar mood. Not that he was ever really expressive anyway. Mihawk ignored her questions as he packed his ship once more for another week of travel. 

Perona floated after him, a scowl on her pretty face, “You just got back, and you're already leaving again? Why? What about me?” 

Hawkeye rolled his eyes, “I have a life outside of this castle, Perona,” he groused out and carefully stacked the books he had mentally chosen on his way back to Gloom Island. Last time he had seen you, you were particularly interested in the Blues. One of the thick tomes he'd picked would be a perfect gift for you. 

“You didn't three months ago,” She snapped back at him and crossed her arms in a pout. She hated being ignored! What was she supposed to do all alone in this dreary old castle? Zoro wasn't here to entertain her any longer. 

Dracule sighs, sweeping his hand through his hair and leveling the ghost girl a look, “It's rude to dig into other people's business. So stay out of mine,” He points out and then closes the bag full of books. Another smaller satchel rests at his feet, though that one is full of small trinkets from his foray into the New World. 

Usually, he strayed away from the market stalls and overpriced jewelry, but a small wind chime made of green sea glass had caught his eye. Dracule had paid for it without looking at the price and then continued on his way, unconsciously keeping a lookout for anything else that he thought you may like. 

The warlord may or may not have ended up with a few more than he had even meant to buy, but Mihawk thought about the look of joy that would cross your face at his gifts, and pushed the thought of how many he'd gotten away. 

“Well someone should be in your business! You've been so sneaky, Dracy! I want to know what you've been up to!” Perona demands again with a huff. She doesn't care that it's rude to butt into his business. He took care of her, let her stay on Gloom Island, and hadn't kicked her out like she knew he could. Perona would look after him, too! 

“Give it up, Perona,” Dracule grumbled, tone final as he picked up both bags and slung them over his shoulder. He fixed his hat with his free hand and then marched out of his study without a word to the floating pink girl. 

Mihawk wouldn't lie and say that he didn't feel at least the tiniest bit bad for lying to Perona. He did care for the girl, in a way like one would a stray cat. But she also had a big mouth, and Dracule had already slipped up once with Shanks. He couldn't do that again. 

The ghost girl pouted behind him as she followed the warlord all the way outside and to his ship. A frown took over her face when she noticed that he was packed as if he would be gone for a while. The ship looked more crowded than usual, and she wondered what Mihawk had stored away. 

“Well. How long will you be gone for?” Perona asks quietly and tries not to let it show how upset she actually was with Dracule leaving already. 

The older man sighs, stepping off his ship to trudge back inside the castle, “I won't be leaving until tomorrow. The trip takes around a week. I plan to stay for at least four days and then a week trip back,” Dracule says and makes sure to keep everything as vague as possible. He glances at the young girl and rolls his eyes when she still looks upset. 

“We will go shopping when I come back. Will that appease you?” Mihawk asks, and it's like a light switch. 

Perona grins in excitement. Shopping with Mihawk means getting whatever she wants. The warlord had more than enough berri to spend. 

“Fine! But I want to go to the best places, Mihawk! You owe me that,” She demands and crosses her arms in a huff, ready to argue her case if denied. 

“As long as it keeps you quiet,” Dracule says instead, and Perona just sticks her nose up in the air again as she floats away to her room. This wasn't over! She would find out what had suddenly taken all of Mihawk's attention. 

Dracule watches the pink girl leave with a fond sigh. He sits in his chair and reaches down to retrieve a bottle of wine from inside his desk. He pops it to let it air and then pours himself a careful glassful. Mihawk admires the red and thinks back on how this same brand of wine had stained your pretty lips. 

Now alone, the warlord allows his mind to drift without worry, eyes closing as he thinks back to the last time he was with you. His overly romantic thoughts have him sneering at himself, as if he were some prince come to sweep you off your feet. Dracule sips his wine. 

He likes to think that it's the other way around. For the most part, life had before a melancholy bore to Mihawk. Either following the government's orders to look for a good fight or nap the day away in his ship. Little caught and held his attention, but you? You are an entirely different story. 

Mihawk had never met someone so sheltered, only knowing of the world through waterlogged books and from the kindness of any pirate that may have washed up on your beach. From what Dracule has gathered, he has been one of the very few who hasn't tried to kill you. 

You were kind and intelligent. He loved the way that your eyes would light up whenever he spoke of what he knew, always excited to acquire more knowledge. Mihawk found that he wanted to teach to show you everything that he knew. 

He frowns suddenly and thinks back to the rather innocent question that had made anger and panic race through him. You wanted to know about him, not his knowledge, and it made him antsy. You didn't deserve to know the hardships and pain that he has gone through to get to where he is today. You did not need to be aware of the atrocities that he has committed over the years. Dracule Mihawk is not a kind man, and his past certainly reflects it. 

Mihawk would tell you more in time, but for now, Dracule wanted to be selfish. Wanted to hoard you away from the world and keep you safe like a dragon would its treasure. And maybe that is what you were to him. A pirate needed treasure, after all. 

The warlord finishes his glass and then stands, intending to fix himself and his ward dinner. He would leave at first light tomorrow morning, not later than that. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Hank whines at your feet, big puppy dog eyes catching your attention from where you sit slouched at your kitchen table. It's been a month and a half, and still, there has been no sign of Dracule. He had promised that he would be back, and the man didn't seem like the kind to break those, but it still made you worry for him. 

Was he okay? Did whatever business he had to attend go bad? Did a seaking attack him and somehow get the better of him? You have no idea, and your chest hurts at all the horrible possibilities that could befall your friend. 

Were you friends? Did that term apply to the two of you? The few romance books that you'd been able to cobble together didn't make it seem like the two of you were just friends. Was he your boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Again, another countless item that you did not know, however, you resolved to amend that when Dracule returned. Whenever that may be. 

“I know, Buddy. I'm sorry that I'm being such a sad sap,” You lament to your pooch and lean down to give the shaggy dog a scratch under his chin. 

Hank's woofs at, and you watch in suspicion when his ears suddenly snap back, and he wheels around to start barking at the front door. You frown as you get up and follow him, curious as to what got Hank's attention. 

That frown turns upside down when the door opens, and Dracule Mihawk strides in like he owns the place. He sets down several bags and pats Hank's head with a soft smirk before the mutt’s attention is caught by something outside. He bounds away, leaving you and Mihawk staring at one another. 

“Snow Angel,” He begins and takes a half step forward, but that's as far as he gets before you slam into him, Snow exploding around the two of you as you bury your face in his chest. You don't even care that his cross necklace is digging into your face. 

“You're back,” you cry. And when did that start? Oh, we'll. You pull away and wipe your eyes, though you can't help the tremble in your bottom lip, “I was worried that something might have happened to you.” 

Warm, calloused hands close around your freezing face, and Dracule leans in to rest his brow against your own. The feather on his hat tickles your face, but you ignore it, not taking your eyes away from the beautiful yellow ones that demand your attention. 

“There is little out there that could truly hurt me, Dear one,” Mihawk says in such a sure tone that you have no choice but to believe him. He strokes your cheeks, wiping away your tears with a soft smile meant only for you, “Though I do appreciate the thought that you worried for me so.” 

You sniff and send him a glare at his teasing. Damn this man and what he does to you. What you hardly understand. 

“You're really that strong?” You find yourself asking him, and lean back to observe his chiseled physique and the sword on his back. A funny feeling shoots through your stomach when you lay eyes on the cross guard, and you frown at the negativity of the emotion. 

You're so focused that you don't notice Dracule's hesitation, though you are quick to tune back in when he speaks. 

“I am. One of my proudest titles is the Greatest Swordsman in the world,” Mihawk admits, and you can't help but think that this is an important event for him, and you delight in knowing that he was finally giving you a peek inside of who he really is.

“It sounds like you've worked very hard for it,” you say softly and reach up to cup his hands with your own, thumbs swiping gently over his knuckles.  

“I did, still do. It is a title that I will happily defend,” Dracule murmurs and slips a hand free so that he can curl his arm around your waist. You shiver at the warmth he emits, and finally feel like you can breathe properly once again. Before you can comment further, Mihawk is twisting the two of you around and backing you up against the door, “Enough of that. Do kiss me, sweet thing. I have missed your taste.” 

Your back hits the door, and then his lips are upon your, closing over your own in a heated exchange that has one of your hands sliding into his hair and pulling him closer. You kiss him back like your life depends on it, opening up for him when Mihawk's tongue licks the seam of your lips. A choked moan leaves your throat when that hot muscle sweeps inside and curls around your tongue. 

Dracule slows, this kiss turning less frantic with need and more passionate, soft pecks of the lips that still leave your heart racing but in an entirely different way. He leaves one last lingering kiss to your cheek and then pulls away to tuck your head under his chin. You take advantage and cuddle close to him, arms dropping to wrap around his waist. You hum when his grip on you tightens. 

“I missed you,” you murmur quietly, and Dracule kisses the top of your head. 

“I know, dear. I longed for you as well,” he says, and your heart flutters at his words. Did he long for you? Did he pine like the men from your storybooks? 

“Wh-What are we?” You ask before you can stop the damming words coming out of your mouth. You flush and bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I know that we're friends, right? But I don't think friends kiss and, um, touch the way we do.” 

Dracule listens to you babble, finding it endearing that you wanted his opinion on this.

 “You can call what we have whatever you like,” He decides on and then catches your chin to lift your face and place a quick kiss to your lips, “But no matter what you choose, you are my treasure.” 

You can't find any kind of words to say to that, so you just reach for him to pepper his face with kisses, giggling when his facial hair tickles your face. Mihawk allows your fun for a whole before he puts a stop to it by flicking you in the forehead. 

“It's later than I intended to arrive, Darling,” Dracule scolds with a smirk and turns to the two of you around and gently pushes you to the kitchen, “You remember how I showed you to properly open a bottle of wine, right?” 

You laugh and dance into the kitchen, gathering the glasses that he had brought from last time and showing him that you did remember his instructions. You haven't touched the dangerous red liquid since that night, but you know that Dracule enjoys having a glass or four in the evening. 

The two of you settle in the living room afterwards, and Dracule sets his wine down long enough to retrieve the smaller bag. He opens it up, and you watch in growing panic as Mihawk pulls several boxes out of the drawstring. He hands over the largest of the parcels. 

“Open them, please,” Dracule instructs, and you set your own mug away to carefully tug at the delicate purple ribbon that holds the box shut. A gasp leaves you when you take the lid off, and you reverently pull out the beautiful green sea glass and delicate metal tubes attached to the fishing line. 

“What is it?” You ask and raise it up to better examine it in the setting sun that streams through your window. You gasp in delight when you hear the melodic echo at the slightest movement. 

“A wind chime. We can hang it wherever the wind blows most,” Dracule suggests, and you nod eagerly as you set the chimes back inside the box for safekeeping. Miahwk takes it away only to replace it with another. 

You end up with a fish bone comb that has been chiseled by masterful hands. A full sand dollar that you are extra careful with, and a large piece of red glass from a broken bottle that has been sanded and polished to a shine. Each item is handpicked just for you. 

Dracule looks like a smug cat, lips tugged up in a smirk as he watches you reverently put away your gifts. You agree to hang up the wind chime in the morning and open his arms for you to fall into. You gladly do, holding Mihawk close and not ever wanting to let go. 

It's quiet between two of you, a comfortable air that puts you at ease. At some point, Mihawk takes up the book, the one that you had read to him from, and begins to read. His soft timber is enough to send you into a light doze, and he slows to a stop, not wanting you to miss anything. 

“Darling, if you are so tired, let's get you to bed, yes?” Mihawk murmurs and rolls his eyes when all you do is give a sleepy nod. He shifts forward and then stands with you in his arms, tracing the now familiar path back to your bedroom. 

Dracule tucks you in, content to leave you for the night, but he doesn't get far before your pitiful voice rings out, “Stay here with me?” 

The warlord is already sitting on the bed and tugging his boot off. You watch with squinted eyes as Mihawk reaches for his belt, sliding it out of the loops and sliding his pants off. You admire his lean form dressed only in black men's underwear. He is radiant, and it makes you a little nervous to have him so undressed and in your bed no less. 

You toss back the blankets and Dracule slips in beside you. It's a little awkward at first, but then you can feel how much heat he is radiating and desperately wants to know how it feels to have so much of his exposed skin touching you. You roll over to face him, smiling in the dim light of the moon when you realize that he's been watching you the whole time. 

“I know you're cold,” Mihawk whispers, and you can hear that knowing, teasing tone that you have missed so much. “Come here, Snow Angel.” 

You don't have to be told twice, happily closing the distance and tossing your arm over his waist, head pillowed on his chest. You press your freezing feet against his legs and are treated with the rare sight of his eyes going wide and a hiss like a cat escaping his mouth. 

You snicker and get pinched in the side for your trouble, but you can't bring yourself to care. This night couldn't get any better. 

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz

[fredwkong]

Genie: Pete’s Wishes

Pete was a little 20-year-old nerd who had just started interning for a big securities firm. He didn’t top 5’4”, even the extra-small button-up shirts looked baggy on his skinny body, and he seemed even smaller because of his habitual slouching posture. At his first day at work, his new boss yelled at him, causing him to have a panic attack in the bathroom.

That evening, he walked by a thrift store and decided to go in. He wasn’t making much money as an intern, but he wanted to buy something small to cheer himself up. He spotted a traditional brass lamp on the shelf, the kind that genies sometimes come out of. At $20, it was a bit pricey for a thrift store, but Pete grabbed it anyway. It would make a cool conversation piece, if nothing else.

Once he got home, Pete started trying to clean the lamp, which caused it to begin glowing and convulsing until a cloud of smoke billowed out. As the smoke dissipated, it revealed an absolute muscle man of a genie. He wore tiny daisy dukes on his striated thighs, along with a top cropped just above his big, dark nipples. The genie stroked his finely cropped beard as he looked down at Pete.

“So, babe, here’s the deal,” said the genie. “You make the wishes, and I’ll turn them up to eleven.” He looked over Pete’s tiny body and cringing posture again, and curled his lip. “And girl, let’s make those wishes count. We have a lot of work to do here.”

“Um, uh.” The only thing in Pete’s head was the moment earlier that day when his boss had yelled at him. “I… wish I was more assertive?”

The genie smirked. “Good idea.” With a snap of his fingers, the genie filled the room with purple smoke. As Pete inhaled it, he felt like it shot right up into his brain, filling in spaces he hadn’t known were there. He suddenly realised that the way to get ahead in life was to be decisive and commanding. His posture uncurled, and his gaze became sharper. No one was ever going to overlook him or yell at him again.

The smoke also embedded itself in his throat, and he coughed, letting out a much deeper, more resonant sound than he had been capable of before. He now had a thunderous bass voice, a sound that was impossible for anyone to ignore.

Pete met the genie’s eyes for the first time. “Thanks,” he thundered, his new voice incapable of whispering.

The genie gave him an ironic salute. “Come back tomorrow for another wish, babe.”

The next day, no one was able to ignore Pete. He walked with power in spite of his tiny body, and nobody could ignore him when he spoke up to his boss in a meeting in his booming new voice. However, with his tiny stature and ill-fitting suit, they laughed off his advice. When he got home, Pete summoned the genie again, filled with righteous rage.

“Genie,” he roared, “I wish I had the cash to really show up my coworkers.”

“On it, babe,” said the genie, and snapped his fingers. It seemed for an instant as if nothing had changed. Then Pete got a notification on his phone. “You should check that.”

Pete had received an email from someone who said they were his secretary, informing him that his company had closed a deal to trade stocks for a multibillionaire client. Pete was a high-powered stockbroker. As he saw the number of zeroes on his contract, he felt another rush of knowledge into his mind. He knew exactly how to play the market, buying and selling to make sure that he and his clients ended every day with more money than they started with. He wrote a terse reply to his secretary:

“Understood. See you tomorrow. Peters.”

For a moment, he wondered why he had written that name. His name was… Peters, of course. Just like the exclusive boarding school where he’d first started day trading, he still preferred to go by his surname, but kept it casual by dropping any honourific.

“Enjoy those millions, darling,” said the genie, vanishing back into his lamp.

The next day was an exhausting one for Peters. He had the money, he was the boss, and he had an assertive attitude and booming voice, but he was still a shrimpy kid in his early 20s. Clients raised their eyebrows when a short young guy walked into the boardroom to present, and the secretaries, most of whom were older than him, seemed to resent Peters’ success and advantages.

When he summoned the genie, Peters was ready with the wish he had been thinking about all day. “I wish I was truly impressive.”

The genie grinned wide. “Absolutely, master,” he said, and snapped his fingers again. Another thick cloud of purple smoke emerged from the lamp, and this time it cocooned Peters’ entire body. He felt his clothes dissolve, leaving him naked. As he inhaled the smoke, Peters felt years of experience fill his mind. His already deep and assertive voice dropped a few more steps, gaining an imposing rasp.

As the smoke sank into Peters’ skin, he transformed. His black hair went grey, styling itself into a precise, stylish look. His face aged until he looked like a handsome man in his late 40s, with piercing eyes and a stylish grey beard. His whole body filled out as his height shot past 6 feet, bulked up with perfectly maintained muscle. His little cock thickened and lengthened as his pubes lightened to grey, becoming an impressive third leg with churning balls to match. Finally, the last of the smoke coalesced into a scattering of grey hair over his chest, back, and legs, and an immaculate blue suit.

Mr. Peters, the 49-year-old stockbroker, nodded to the genie. “Good work,” he rumbled, testing out the sound of his new, even more thunderous voice.

“Oh, I’m not done yet, master,” the genie purred, and clapped. The hotel room Mr. Peters had moved to with his newfound millions the previous night was immediately replaced with a huge, well-appointed penthouse. Instinctively, Mr. Peters moved to the humidor he kept next to the genie’s lamp. He expertly trimmed and lit a cigar, enjoying the luxurious flavour.

The genie looked him and the penthouse over one more time, and nodded. “See you tomorrow, sir,” he cooed, and blew a kiss to Mr. Peters as he vanished.

The next day, Mr. Peters was on fire. He closed several deals for his company, making himself and his clients even more money, and got taken out for dinner by the director of a competing corporation attempting to headhunt him. The power got him hard, and he was pent-up with a raging boner by the time he got home to make his wish.

“I don’t have time for any dating,” he told the genie brusquely. “I wish for a husband to fuck right now.”

“Order up,” the genie said, laughing, and snapped his fingers.

On the street outside, Larsen was looking for his friend Pete. They had been good school friends, both being little nerds, but Pete had suddenly stopped answering his messages a few days ago, and then seemed to have been scrubbed from existence. No one else remembered him, and people kept mentioning someone named Mr. Peters instead!

Just as Larsen was about to ask one of the building’s valet parking attendants if she knew a Pete living at this address, he felt a tug, as if someone had grabbed him around his belly, and he was suddenly in a dimly lit room. Outside the window was an exquisite view of the city, while inside of the room was a stern-looking man in a suit alongside a dark-skinned man dressed like a slutty himbo.

As the genie continued his work, Larsen became surrounded by a cloud of pink smoke. His muscles grew, his skin became porcelain smooth, and everything about him became classically handsome, like a perfect statue of a man. He grew to a respectable height, still shorter than Mr. Peters, and his dick swelled up, but not quite as large either. Instead, his ass grew into a pair of fuckable, jiggly globes that would be visible no matter what he wore.

The last of the pink smoke shot up Larsen’s nose and into his brain, rewiring him into a dumb himbo slut. Lars had been a German model until Mr. Peters had approached him after a show and offered to give him a luxurious life as his arm candy husband. They had a good enough relationship, and Mr. Peters—Sir—was a good, dominant Daddy, which Lars liked. What made their marriage really special, though, was that while Sir was at work, Lars went and picked up boys for the two of them to share. It was the only way he could get enough fucking during the day to keep up with his unbelievable sex drive.

“Guten Abend, Daddy,” Lars said, as the genie released him. “The boys are waiting in the second bedroom for us.” He stepped up in front of Mr. Peters and undid his tie and top button before Mr. Peters grabbed him by the back of his head and kissed him forcefully. A moment later, Lars led Mr. Peters out of the room and to the designated sex den, his bared dick leading the way.

The genie watched them leave. If he stayed any longer, the former Pete was likely to ask for something boring and unsexy like world domination, so it was probably time for him to put his lamp in the gym bag of one of the horny himbos Lars and Mr. Peters were fucking.

Idea with assistance from a bot of my creation.

Click here to see the genie’s next master.

Click here to see all the genie’s adventures.

[celebtf]

THE STUNT-DOUBLE: Ryan Reynolds

It was a bustling day in Chicago, and Jack had just taken a happy walk around the vibrant city, soaking in the sights and sounds, and enjoying the lively atmosphere. Jack had walked down-town to a small market earlier to see if he could find any good thrifts to his new apartment.

" Hey young man, seeing anything you like? " an older man asked Jack, the man looked in his early 40's and had a big table with alot of stuff on it, everything from toys to glasses to clothes to jewlery.

" How much for that silver ring, right over there " Jack pointed to a ring that had the lable 3 written on a small piece of paper under it.

" Number 3, that will be 1$ " Jack pays for the ring and then go back home, tomorrow is a big day, he will start his new job as a Stunt-double for Ryan Reynolds on set for the new Deadpool 3, Jack was so excited and couldn't really believe his hears when the agency had called him and told him the news.

The next day Jack woke up early, took a quick run and hoped in to the shower, ate breakfast and jumped into his car on his way to the set.

Jack got on to set and he showed his id and Crew-Id, went past Security and walked down the hallway. Jack stepped inside his boss office and there stood the man himself, Ryan.

" Hey man, fun to meet you let me give you a tour around the place " Ryan grabbed my shoulder and started to show me around. We walked through all the diffrent set and crews, showed me where the lunch-room was and where to sleep if I got tired on set.

" Here is our costume-designers and makes the suits and clothes for this movie "

I put my hand in my pocket and just started to play with thw ring while I stood outside the Toilet for Ryan to finish. " Damn I wish I got a chance to be Ryan". Time went and at last, Jack just opened the door and saw Ryan's Deadpool suit on the floor. Jack locked the door and started to put on the suit, just for fun, he put his foot in first and he could hear the suit moan, which was odd for a suit to do, the same thing happend with the second leg. Jack had finnished putting the suit on, and when he looked into the mirror he saw Ryan stairing back at him.

Jack's wish had come through, he had become Ryan and Ryan was now his suit. Jack left the the toilet, walking around like he owned this place, suddenly Monica from Costume grabbed him by the shoulder, he jumped.

" I'm sorry I scared you Mr.Reynolds, I see the zipper is broke in the back, let me just fix that up for you quick. " Jack took of the Deadpool suit, scared he would turn back but to his suprise he didn't. As they put the Suit on the Mannequin Jack or ' Ryan ' could here the suit moan again. Seems like only Jack could here it, which would make this more fun.

As the weeks went by and Jack started to do more and more Promo as Ryan for Deadpool 3, he really stared to enjoy it more and more.

" If all I have to do during these Photoshoots are to look good, I'm going to enjoy it to the fullest, aren't we Ryan" Jack grabbed his bulge through the suit and could here the old Ryan moan.