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palanshika19970 · 4 months ago

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Why Are Branded Corporate Gifts Important for Business Promotions?

Corporate gifts are more than just tokens of appreciation; they have evolved into an essential part of business promotion strategies across various industries. Companies are recognizing the profound impact branded corporate gifts can have on their reputation, client relationships, and marketing efforts. In this article, we will explore why branded corporate gifts are essential for business promotions, diving into key promotional items like diaries, jute bags, laptop bags, and customized diaries. These promotional items help businesses build long-lasting relationships and create memorable impressions on clients and partners.

The Power of Corporate Gifting in Business

Corporate gifting has grown into a strategic tool that enhances a company’s visibility and strengthens professional bonds. By presenting clients, employees, or business partners with a thoughtful corporate gifts item, companies send a clear message: they value the relationship and care about their stakeholders.

Branded corporate gifts serve multiple purposes:

Enhancing brand visibility: When a business gives out a promotional item, such as a customized diary or laptop bag with its logo, the recipient is likely to use that item frequently. As a result, the brand gets constant exposure, extending beyond the initial recipient and potentially reaching others as well.

Strengthening relationships: Corporate gifting fosters goodwill. It’s an expression of gratitude that helps maintain relationships with clients, employees, and partners. Whether it’s a diary, a jute bag, or a tech accessory, each gift reminds recipients that their relationship with the company is valued.

Creating brand loyalty: Thoughtful gifts that resonate with recipients increase brand loyalty. If clients or employees perceive that a company understands their needs and preferences, they are more likely to stay loyal to the brand, helping to solidify long-term partnerships.

Differentiating your brand: In a competitive market, standing out is crucial. Well-thought-out corporate gifts, such as eco-friendly jute bags or customized promotional items, give companies a unique touch that helps them differentiate themselves from competitors.

Why Branded Corporate Gifts Matter in Business Promotions

Business promotion is an essential component of any organization’s success, and corporate gifts play a key role in this process. Let’s look at why branded corporate gifts are a vital part of business promotion:

Tangible marketing tools: Unlike digital advertisements or emails, promotional gifts are tangible items that serve as a constant reminder of your brand. A branded diary, laptop bag, or jute bag keeps your company name in front of the recipient every time they use the item. These tangible items have staying power and can result in ongoing brand exposure for years.

Cost-effective advertising: Compared to traditional advertising methods like billboards or TV ads, corporate gifts are a more cost-effective solution for promoting a business. Items like diaries, jute bags, and customized laptop bags are often affordable to produce, yet they provide lasting impressions that offer high returns on investment.

Versatile promotional options: Corporate gift items can be tailored to suit different industries and target audiences. Whether you’re targeting tech-savvy professionals with branded laptop bags or environmentally conscious clients with jute bags, the flexibility in promotional items ensures that every gift is relevant and impactful.

Building trust and credibility: Offering promotional gifts helps build trust with clients and partners. Gifting high-quality items like customized diaries or laptop bags shows that your company is serious about maintaining strong, credible relationships. This trust can lead to referrals, repeat business, and a more positive perception of your brand.

Corporate Gift Items That Are Effective for Promotions

Now that we understand the importance of corporate gifting, let’s dive into some of the most popular and effective branded corporate gift items that can enhance business promotions.

Branded Diaries

One of the most classic corporate gift items, a branded diary can be both practical and stylish. Diaries are often used in professional environments, making them the perfect medium for brand visibility. Each time a recipient uses the diary to plan their schedule, take notes, or record ideas, they are reminded of the company that gave it to them.

Why Branded Diaries Work

Usability: Diaries are functional and used daily, making them a constant reminder of your brand.

Customization options: You can customize diary with your company logo, colors, and even personalized messages, creating a unique gift that speaks directly to the recipient.

Professionalism: A high-quality branded diary reflects your company’s attention to detail and commitment to quality, which enhances the recipient's perception of your brand.

Jute Bags as Promotional Items

In today’s environmentally conscious world, eco-friendly promotional items like jute bags are becoming increasingly popular. Jute bags not only align with sustainability goals but also serve as practical items that can be used regularly.

Why Jute Bags Are Effective Promotional Gifts

Eco-friendliness: Jute is a biodegradable material, which appeals to eco-conscious clients and helps your brand portray a socially responsible image.

Reusability: jute bag are durable and can be used for various purposes, from shopping to carrying work items. This ensures that your brand is exposed to a wide range of audiences over time.

Customization opportunities: Like other promotional gifts, jute bags can be customized with your logo, slogan, or message, offering excellent brand visibility.

Laptop Bags for Modern Business Professionals

Laptop bags are increasingly becoming a go-to promotional gift for businesses, especially those that cater to professionals in tech and corporate environments. Laptop bags are both functional and durable, ensuring that your brand stays with the recipient for years.

Why Laptop Bags Are Great Corporate Gifts

High perceived value: laptop bag are seen as premium gifts, which reflect positively on your brand. By gifting a laptop bag, you demonstrate that you value the relationship with the recipient.

Frequent use: Since most professionals carry laptops, a branded laptop bag is likely to be used daily, offering your business constant brand exposure in and out of the office.

Customization: Like diaries and jute bags, laptop bags can be customized to include your company’s logo, colors, and design elements, providing a professional look that aligns with your brand identity.

Customized Diaries for Personalized Promotions

Customized diaries offer an extra layer of personalization compared to standard branded diaries. By tailoring the diary to suit the recipient’s preferences or adding their name, companies can make the gift feel more exclusive and thoughtful.

Why Customized Diaries Stand Out

Personal touch: A customized diary, whether it includes the recipient’s name or specific design features, makes the gift feel special. Personalization shows thoughtfulness, which helps strengthen the bond between the giver and the recipient.

Unique branding: Customization allows you to go beyond just printing your logo. You can include motivational quotes, company values, or even incorporate themes related to your industry, giving the diary more depth and relevance to the recipient.

Brand recall: The more personalized a gift is, the more likely the recipient will remember who gave it to them. A customized diary serves as a memorable item that reinforces your brand’s presence.

How to Choose the Right Corporate Gifts for Your Business

When choosing corporate gifts, it's important to consider factors such as the preferences of your target audience, the nature of your business, and the message you want to convey. Here are a few tips to guide you:

Understand your audience: Consider what your recipients would appreciate. For example, if your clients are environmentally conscious, jute bags are a great choice. If you are gifting professionals, laptop bags and diaries are suitable.

Quality matters: The quality of the corporate gift reflects the quality of your business. Always choose high-quality items that reflect well on your brand. A well-crafted diary or sturdy laptop bag leaves a better impression than a low-quality item.

Customization options: Personalizing your promotional gifts can make them more effective. Customized diaries, for example, show that extra thought has gone into the gift. Think about ways to add value through personalization.

Relevance to your brand: The gift should be aligned with your business’s identity. A tech company might opt for laptop bags, while a sustainable brand could choose jute bags. Ensure the gift speaks to the essence of your brand.

The Long-Term Benefits of Using Corporate Gifts for Promotion

Corporate gifting is not just about immediate returns; it offers long-term benefits that can contribute to the overall success of a business. Here are some of the ways in which branded corporate gifts can help in the long run:

Increased brand recognition: The more your Promotional item are used, the more familiar people become with your brand. Repeated exposure helps establish your company’s presence in the minds of your audience.

Customer retention: Offering corporate gifts fosters loyalty among customers. People are more likely to return to a brand that demonstrates appreciation through thoughtful gifts.

Enhanced employee engagement: Corporate gifting is not limited to clients and partners; it can also be used to boost employee morale. Offering gifts like diaries or laptop bags to employees can make them feel valued, leading to increased productivity and job satisfaction.

Referral marketing: Happy recipients often talk about their gifts, which can lead to word-of-mouth promotion. Satisfied clients might recommend your services to others, thereby expanding your customer base organically.

Conclusion

Incorporating branded corporate gifts into your business promotion strategy is a smart move that can yield substantial benefits. From branded diaries and jute bags to laptop bags and customized diaries, these promotional items are effective tools for enhancing brand visibility, strengthening relationships, and building trust with clients and employees alike. Not only are corporate gifts cost-effective, but they also leave a lasting impression that can result in long-term business success.

When done right, Promotional gifts is not just about giving—it’s about investing in relationships, fostering brand loyalty, and setting your company apart from the competition. Whether you're a small startup or a well-established business, branded corporate gifts can play a crucial role in driving business growth and promoting your brand in the marketplace.

#corporate gifts item #diary #jute bag #laptop bag #customized diary #Promotional item #Promotional gifts

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nemo-writes · 30 days ago

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⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; you uncover a hidden truth that forces you to take responsibility despite lingering resentment. as old wounds remain fresh, some refuse to give up on the hope of redemption.

⚠️ warnings; none

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

The pack was quiet on the drive home, the usual hum of conversation replaced by a heavy, contemplative silence. The truck creaked softly as they pulled into the driveway, the weight of the day still clinging to them like a second skin.

Inside the house, they moved wordlessly, each finding their own corner to settle into. Ghost disappeared into the kitchen, his movements as silent as ever. Price leaned against the back of the sofa, his arms crossed as he stared at nothing in particular. Gaz sat in the armchair, his brow furrowed as though lost in thought.

Johnny paced.

The energy radiating off him was palpable, his restlessness a stark contrast to the subdued demeanor of the others. He’d been like this for weeks—ever since the fallout with you, ever since he had gone after you against your wishes and that bloody day at Konni's.

Finally, he stopped, letting out a sharp breath like a dam breaking. “Right,” he said, his accent thick with exasperation. “I’ve got somethin’, and ye need tae hear me out.”

Gaz looked up first, arching a brow. “This’ll be good,” he muttered dryly.

Johnny shot him a glare, but the effect was diminished by the nervous energy rolling off him. He grabbed his laptop from the nearby shelf, plopping it onto the coffee table before flipping it open. The glow of the screen lit up his face as he sat cross-legged on the floor, motioning for the others to gather round.

The laptop itself was well-used, the edges slightly worn from years of handling. A few sparse stickers adorned the surface—some band logos, a faded insignia, and one that made Ghost’s gaze linger for just a second too long.

A sticker from your apothecary.

The design was simple—your shop’s name in elegant script, accompanied by a small, hand-drawn sigil you had used in its early days. It had been from when you were first promoting the place, when you had excitedly handed them out, tucking them into bags of herbs and tonics for customers, pressing them into the palms of the people you trusted.

“I’ve been… thinkin’,” he admitted, his voice softer now, the words almost awkward in their delivery.

Ghost leaned in from the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest as his gaze moved away from the sticker to his pack mate. “That doesn’t sound good,” he said flatly, tone dry as a desert.

Johnny ignored him, pulling up several tabs and a folder he’d clearly been organizing for a while. “Look,” he said, turning the laptop so they could all see. “I’ve been doin’ a bit o’ research. On her coven. On the town. On… everythin’.”

Gaz frowned, leaning forward. “Why?”

“Because!” He snapped, exasperated but not angry. “I needed tae understand! If we’re ever gonna fix this—if we’ve any chance of fixin’ it—we need tae ken what we’re dealin’ with!”

He clicked through several images and articles, pulling up maps, historical records, and more. “The coven’s at the heart of everythin’,” he explained, his voice quickening with conviction. “The town that surrounds it? It’s no’ just witches. It’s humans, fae, and other folk, all livin’ together in harmony. The only condition is loyalty tae the coven.”

“Loyalty,” Gaz echoed cautiously, his brows furrowing.

Soap nodded, scrolling to a section about the coven’s rules. “Aye. Loyalty. And if they have daughters? The daughters serve the coven. That’s it. Otherwise, everyone’s welcome. They’ve built somethin’ there, somethin’ solid.”

Gaz shifted in his seat, his frown deepening. “Pledging loyalty to a coven’s no small thing, mate. There’s a reason my mum never did. It’s… a big commitment.”

Johnny glanced at him, then at the others, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

Price, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. “She’s set to become the leader of the coven,” he said, his voice steady and deliberate. “And knowing her, I’d bet she wouldn’t see it as a burden. For us, loyalty to her would feel like a privilege.”

Johnny blinked, clearly taken aback by the certainty in his tone.

Price leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on his knees. “She already has it,” he continued, his blue eyes sharp. “Our hearts, our souls—everythin’. Despite what happened, I’d say we’re more certain about it now than ever before.”

A heavy silence followed his words, the truth settling over the group like a shroud.

Ghost, still standing in the doorway, finally spoke. His voice was low and even, but there was an edge of hesitation in his tone. “.....I’ll think about it.”

The others turned to look at him, but his gaze remained fixed on the room beyond, unreadable as always.

Johnny glanced back at his laptop, his fingers drumming nervously on the edge of the table. He’d expected more pushback, but the quiet agreement—or at least consideration—from the others left him feeling relieved.

For now, the conversation hung in the air, unfinished, as each of them retreated into their own thoughts.

. . .

The frustration simmered beneath your skin, as you paced the length of your studio. Sybil’s steady gaze followed your movements, her head resting on her paws where she lay curled by the hearth. She didn’t move, but the occasional flick of her tail was enough to show she was keeping close watch, sensing your turmoil as her own.

Laswell’s interference had gone far beyond what she’d claimed.

She’d framed Leah’s arrival as her getting closure—an opportunity to heal. But this? This was manipulation. She hadn’t sent Leah to you for closure. No, she’d sent her to you for salvation.

It had been subtle at first—the way Leah had faltered as König escorted her out of the manor. Her steps had grown sluggish, her face pale, and by the time she reached the threshold, she had nearly collapsed. König had caught her effortlessly, his broad frame dwarfing her frail figure.

Your Mom had stepped in immediately. She wasn’t alone—Horangi stood close by, his expression unreadable behind the tint of his glasses, hands folded neatly behind his back as he observed. Barghest loomed nearby, her keen eyes scanning Leah with quiet intensity.

You had stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, frustration barely contained as you watched with Sybil by your side.

It was when your Mom’s expression shifted—her brow furrowing, lips pressing into a thin line—that your heart sank.

“She’s not sick,” your Mom said softly, though her tone carried the weight of something far more serious. “Not in the way you think.”

Horangi adjusted his glasses slightly, his sharp gaze flicking to you. “It’s… different,” he murmured, his usual cool detachment laced with something more cautious.

“What is it, then?” you demanded, your voice sharp enough to cut through the tension.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking briefly to Leah, who lay unconscious on the bed, before returning to you. Sybil had risen slightly, ears pricking forward, sensing the weight of the moment.

Horangi exhaled heavily, his broad shoulders rolling slightly. “It’s changed her,” he muttered, his deep voice carrying a weight of finality. “Too much time with the parasite inside her—it left a mark.”

“The parasite was in her for too long,” your Mom added. “It left an imprint. She’s… not human anymore.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you stared at her, your mind racing to make sense of it. “What?”

“She’s not a magical creature either,” she continued, her voice tinged with something like regret. “She’s stuck in between. Whatever the parasite did to her, it’s irreversible.”

Barghest let out a low rumble, her gaze fixed on Leah’s prone form.

“Her body isn’t rejecting magic like a human’s should,” Horangi noted, his tone more thoughtful than concerned. “But it’s not adapting to it, either. It’s in stasis.”

“Which means she needs something to anchor her,” your Mom concluded. “Something strong enough to keep her from slipping further.”

Her fingers curled against the armrest of her wheelchair, her gaze steady on you. “If we want her to survive, she’ll need to stay close to a source of magic—something strong enough to anchor her while her body finishes assimilating.”

You hadn’t needed her to elaborate. A witch’s coven, your coven, was the only viable answer.

And that was when the full weight of Laswell’s intentions had hit you. She had known. She had known that Leah needed something more, something she couldn’t provide. And so she had sent her to you, knowing you wouldn’t let her die.

The memory of it made your teeth grind as you stopped pacing, your fingers digging into the edge of the desk. Sybil rose from her spot and padded over to you, pressing her warm, wet nose against your hand. The gesture brought you back to the present, grounding you even as the anger continued to churn beneath the surface.

Laswell had played her cards well, and now Leah was your responsibility—whether you liked it or not.

For now, you had set Leah up in town, close enough to the coven’s magic to keep her stable but far enough from the manor to give yourself some distance. The thought of her being any closer was still too much.

You exhaled sharply, leaning heavily against the desk as your frustration ebbed into something quieter, heavier. Acceptance.

Leah would stay—for now. But the resentment burning in your chest wouldn’t be so easily soothed.

Her visits were a different matter altogether.

No matter how often you told her not to come, how many times you snapped, glared, or outright dismissed her, she always returned. You made no effort to mask your irritation—if anything, you let it out freely, allowing your frustration to cut through your words like a blade.

And she took it. Every annoyed sigh, every sharp retort, every time you turned your back on her, she took it without complaint.

Still, she kept coming back.

At first, it felt like defiance, another way for her to wedge herself into a space where she wasn’t welcome. But as the days stretched into weeks, you realized it wasn’t that. She wasn’t fighting against you—she was enduring you.

As if she believed this was part of her punishment.

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth, but it didn’t stop you from lashing out. When she brought books, you barely glanced at them before shoving them aside. When she tried to help, you found ways to make her feel in the way. When she lingered too long, you pointedly ignored her until she left.

But she never stopped.

“You need these,” she’d say, matter-of-factly, setting a book on magical contracts or ancient coven traditions on your desk with the quiet confidence of someone who belonged.

Sybil would watch from her usual spot, her dark eyes shifting between the two of you, as though waiting to see who would break first.

One evening, after another round of cold, clipped responses from you, Leah finally exhaled, pressing her palms against the desk as she looked at you properly.

“I deserve this,” she murmured, so softly that, for a moment, you weren’t sure you had heard her right.

Your temper flared again, ready to snap at her, but then you saw the way she held herself—shoulders stiff, chin tilted ever so slightly downward, as if she were bracing for another verbal blow.

The fight drained from you instantly.

You hated that she thought that. That she had convinced herself this was justified.

“No,” you said, quieter than you meant to. “You don’t.”

She blinked, but didn’t argue. She just nodded, accepting the statement as fact, but something in her shoulders eased ever so slightly.

You sighed and gestured at the treaty she had been reviewing, your frustration ebbing into something else—something closer to exhaustion. “What were you saying about the wording?”

She hesitated at the sudden shift but gathered herself quickly, sliding the document back toward her. Sybil stretched lazily near your feet, her tail flicking idly, as Leah pointed to a section of the draft.

“This part. The phrasing is vague—it could be interpreted in a way that gives your mother leverage later.”

You studied it, eyes narrowing. She was right.

“I didn’t expect you to be good at this,” you admitted, catching her off guard.

She laughed softly, the sound almost disbelieving. “I was studying to be a lawyer, remember? Before all of this happened.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze flicking to Sybil, who tilted her head slightly as if in approval. “I guess I forgot.”

Her expression softened, and though the distance between you both remained, it felt less insurmountable than before.

Little by little, the jagged edges of your shared history began to smooth. Slowly but surely.

. . .

The dimly lit bathroom was filled with the quiet hum of the electric razor in Ghost’s hands. He held it awkwardly, his fingers stiff around the handle as if it were a weapon he hadn’t been trained to use. Johnny sat on a stool in front of him, a towel draped around his shoulders, his unruly hair ready for the transformation back into his signature mohawk.

“Careful, big man,” Johnny teased, his thick accent carrying a playful edge. “I’ve got enough scars. Don’t go addin’ tae the collection, aye?”

Ghost let out a quiet grunt, tilting Johnny’s head slightly to one side as he began shaving the sides of his head. “Keep still, or you’ll get what you’re askin’ for.”

The clumsiness in Ghost’s hands was deliberate—Johnny had insisted on his help for this reason alone. It wasn’t about precision; it was about the time spent, the bond shared in this one quiet moment.

For a while, they worked in silence, the razor buzzing and the occasional clump of hair falling to the floor. But Johnny wasn’t one to let silence linger too long.

“So,” he began casually, his tone light but probing. “Gonna tell me what’s got ye tied up in knots?”

Ghost didn’t answer immediately, his focus seemingly fixed on the next section of Soap’s hair.

“C’mon, Simon,” Johnny pressed, his voice softening. “We all know somethin’s eatin’ at ye. Let it out, mate.”

Ghost exhaled slowly, his hand stilling for a moment before resuming its work. “It’s nothin’,” he muttered.

Johnny snorted. “Aye, and I’m a bloody unicorn. Try again.”

There was another long pause, the weight of it growing heavier with each passing second. Finally, Ghost set the razor down on the counter and leaned against the sink, his gloved hands gripping the edge tightly.

“I’m afraid,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Johnny turned in his seat, his gaze searching Ghost’s face, even though the mask hid most of his expression. “Afraid of what?”

Ghost stared at the wall in front of him, his shoulders tense. “Of what I did. Of what I could’ve done. That night…” He trailed off, his hands tightening around the sink. “I don’t remember much, but I know I hurt her. Sybil too.”

His voice cracked slightly, and he shook his head. “She’s our bird, Johnny. Our jewel. My everythin’. And the thought that I… That I could’ve—”

Ghost broke off again, his jaw tightening. “She’s not the same anymore. She’s cold now. Frigid. And I can’t help but think it’s my fault.”

Johnny’s usual light-hearted demeanor softened as he listened. He reached up, clapping a hand on Ghost’s arm. “Simon,” he said gently, “ye messed up. Aye, ye made a mistake—a big one. But we all did, mate. It wasn’t just ye.”

Ghost glanced at him, his eyes shadowed and unsure.

“And maybe this was the wake-up call we needed,” Johnny continued, his tone more serious than usual. “We were treatin’ her like she was somethin’ fragile. A wee thing tae keep safe and warm and away from the world.”

He shook his head, a rare note of wisdom shining through. “But she’s not that, Simon. She’s her own person. Her own beauty. And it’s about bloody time we showed her we see that. That we respect it.”

Ghost stared at him, the weight of his words settling over him like a heavy cloak. “And what if she doesn’t forgive us?” he asked quietly.

Johnny grinned faintly, his usual cheekiness returning for a moment. “Then we keep tryin’, big man. ‘Cause if there’s one thing she’s taught us, it’s that we’ve got tae earn it.”

The razor buzzed back to life as Ghost picked it up again, his hands steadier this time. Johnny straightened, letting him finish the job, a small smile tugging at his lips as the tension in the room began to ease.

For the first time in a long while, Ghost felt something close to hope.

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mssishipi · 2 months ago

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CHAPTER 1: mr. panties stealer - enhypen! heesung

PAIRING: broke! rookie panty stealer! heesung x reader, senior panty stealer! jake x reader

SYNOPSIS: When Heesung discovers his roommate Beomgyu's bizarre side hustle-stealing panties for cash in a campus-wide competition-he's appalled. But after hearing about the insane prize money, his moral compass wavers.

Overwhelmed by deadlines and broke from juggling classes and a café job, Heesung finally snaps. Armed with Beomgyu's tips and a growing desperation, Heesung sets out to grab the bag-and maybe a shred of dignity along the way.

warning on this chapter: profanities, explicit content (smut), unprotected sex

chapter two

The soft humming of Beomgyu pulled Heesung's focus from his laptop screen. His fingers paused mid-typing, and his brow furrowed as he glanced toward his roommate.

Beomgyu stood at the tiny dorm kitchenette, flipping something on the pan with way too much hip movement for someone cooking.

Heesung's eyes narrowed. Was that... a designer hoodie he was wearing?

He yanked out his AirPods and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, silently observing. Beomgyu was smiling—smiling—like he'd just won the lottery.

Heesung's suspicions deepened when Beomgyu strolled over and dramatically placed a perfectly grilled steak in front of him, complete with garnish. A garnish!

"Eat up, bro! How's your business plan going?" Beomgyu asked as he dropped into the chair across from Heesung. He even wiggled his eyebrows, looking far too pleased with himself.

Heesung stared at the steak, then back at Beomgyu. "What's this? Poison? Did you get a sugar daddy or something?"

Beomgyu snorted. "Relax. Just eat. You need the protein. You're looking kinda scrawny lately."

"Excuse me, I'm the one carrying this dorm on my back while you're out here buying steaks and flexing designer hoodies," Heesung shot back, shoving the plate away.

"Where is this money coming from? Did you get a promotion?" He asked.

Beomgyu hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "Not exactly..."

Heesung's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'not exactly'? Are you doing something illegal? Selling stolen phones? Counterfeiting IDs?"

Beomgyu let out a nervous laugh, his hand twitching toward the steak knife. "Dude, no! Calm down."

Heesung wasn't buying it. He leaned closer, voice lowering. "Are you... selling drugs?"

"What? No!" Beomgyu hissed, slapping Heesung's hand away. "Why does your brain always go straight to crime? Do you think of me in that way?!"

"Because we've been broke for months and suddenly you're over there playing MasterChef with premium cuts of meat!" Heesung jabbed a finger at the steak. "My diet's been so good, I've gained four kilograms, Beomgyu. Four kilograms! Something's fishy."

Beomgyu groaned, dropping his head onto the table. "I swear, it's nothing bad."

"Then just tell me!" Heesung demanded. "Are you a cam boy? You've been extra cheerful. Did you get a bunch of rich ladies paying for shirtless livestreams?"

Beomgyu sat up, face red. "Hell no! Shut up, dumbass!" He flipped Heesung off before muttering, "But... fine. I'll tell you."

"Well?"

Beomgyu sighed deeply, like he was about to confess to a murder. "I've been making money... by stealing panties."

The room went dead silent.

"...Panties?" Heesung repeated, blinking in disbelief.

"Yes, panties. Underwear. Lingerie. Whatever you want to call it." Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling like a man questioning his life choices.

"There's this monthly competition. The 00 Sigma Liners run it. Whoever steals the most panties wins a huge cash prize."

Heesung's jaw dropped. "There's a competition for that?!"

Beomgyu shrugged. "And it pays well."

"Bro, you're committing theft! And for panties! What if you get caught? What if someone recognizes you?"

Beomgyu waved him off. "It's not a big deal. I'm fast, and no one ever suspects me. Plus, I've got a system."

Heesung stared, completely dumbfounded. "...A system?"

"Yeah." Beomgyu grinned smugly. "Turns out, laundry rooms on campus are prime territory. Easy access, no security cameras, and people forget about their stuff all the time."

"Used panties?" Heesung repeated, his voice laced with disbelief.

He grimaced, an image of Beomgyu stuffing a bunch of underwear into a duffel bag popping into his head. He physically shuddered. "That's... so gross, dude."

Beomgyu just shrugged, completely unbothered. "Money doesn't smell, bro."

Heesung gagged a little. "It probably does in this case." He squinted at his roommate. "Okay, fine. How much do you even make doing this... career path?"

Beomgyu smirked, leaning back in his chair like he was about to deliver the punchline to a joke. "Why? Thinking about joining the club?"

Heesung stiffened, turning back to his laptop in mock indignation. "Pfft, no. I'm just curious. Totally normal curiosity."

"Uh-huh," Beomgyu said, clearly unconvinced but letting it slide. "Anyway, it depends on how many you grab. Last time, I made 600 bucks."

Heesung's head snapped back toward him. "Six hundred dollars?! For panties?"

"Yup. But get this," Beomgyu continued, raising a finger, "Jake—you know Jake? The hot Australian dude?—he snagged 40 panties from the girls' dorm and made four thousand dollars. Four grand. Straight up." He let that sink in.

"And, bro, the competition's sponsored now. The 02 Alpha Liners are putting money behind it."

Heesung's jaw dropped. "Wait. There are sponsors for stealing underwear? What is this, the Panty Olympics?"

"Pretty much," Beomgyu said with a shrug. "But now it's trickier. Most of the girls are onto us, so it's getting harder. Locks on laundry room doors, hidden cameras, fake panties as traps... It's like Mission Impossible, but for underwear."

Heesung stared at his laptop, his business plan completely forgotten. A little voice in the back of his head whispered about all the things he could buy with $600. He pictured himself walking into the campus store and loading up on snacks, new clothes, maybe even upgrading his ancient laptop. Hell, 4,000 dollars? That was tuition and a trip to Jeju Island.

He glanced at Beomgyu, who was casually biting the steak like this whole thing was perfectly normal. "Four thousand, huh..."

Beomgyu smirked. "Told you. Don't knock it till you try it."

Heesung closed his laptop, deep in thought. "What's the... uh, strategy?"

"You are interested!" Beomgyu cackled, slapping the table.

"Fuck you! I want to earn 600 bucks too!" Heesung snapped, glaring. "How dare you keep this from me? If I'd known, I wouldn't have busted my ass at the café for chump change!"

Beomgyu raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay! My bad! I'm just a rookie, alright? Three months in the game. But I'll teach you, bro. Don't worry."

"Damn right, you will." Heesung popped a piece of steak into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

The steak giving him just enough energy to imagine himself prowling the laundry rooms like a panty ninja. He could almost taste the $600 already. Maybe if he bagged 20, he could treat himself to a fancy massage at that spa he always passed by. Hell, if he hit Jake's 40-panty mark, he could upgrade his whole lifestyle.

He is definitely joining and gonna grab that bag.

- - - -

“Damn these fuckers,” you mutter, glaring at your laundry basket. Half your panties are missing—again.

“It’s the fucking competition!” Chaewon screams, slamming her fist onto the counter of the dorm laundry shop. “I thought you said your security was better than this! Do you know how much I spend on panties every month?”

The shop owner sighs, clearly tired of this conversation.

“Miss, we’ve done everything we can. The competition is out of our control. The university refuses to get involved, and the police don’t take it seriously. They think it’s just some harmless club activity.”

“Harmless?!” Wonyoung shrieks, waving her empty laundry bag like a flag of war. “How is stealing panties harmless? Get better locks! Or guards! Or something!”

“We tried new locks,” the owner says, rubbing his temples. “The participants broke them. We can’t afford to keep replacing them.”

“Then install CCTVs!” Karina yells, pointing accusingly at the ceiling. “Track those bastards and turn them in! If we can’t report them for theft, go for property damage! Think smarter!”

You smack your palm against your forehead, sighing. Everyone’s yelling, tensions are high, and yet here you are, missing half your underwear. Again.

“The 28th is coming,” Giselle whines, dabbing at her eyes with fake tears. “God knows how many of them will show up this time. My favorite VS lingerie is gone forever! The one my boyfriend loves so much…”

“Here we go,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“…and now I can’t even get the hard fucking I deserve when I wear them!” Giselle cries dramatically, slamming her fists on the counter.

“God, TMI!” you snap, covering your ears.

“Hey, it’s not TMI!” Giselle protests. “This is important! I have a life, you know!”

“I just want my panties back,” Wonyoung groans, clutching her bag. “What kind of psycho steals this much underwear?”

The owner sighs louder, rubbing his face. “Miss, it’s a competition. There’s prize money. People will do anything for cash.”

“Prize money?!” Wonyoung shrieks. “You’re telling me some perverts are getting paid to steal my stuff?! Where’s the justice in this world?”

“Forget justice,” Karina mutters, cracking her knuckles. “We need revenge.”

“I thought leaving our laundry in the dorm was safe!” Chaewon shouts, throwing her hands up. “But last time, there were three guys lurking around, probably hoping the laundry room would be empty!”

“Three guys in our dorm?” Wonyoung gasps, biting her nails. “What if they come back? God knows what else they’ll try to do!”

Karina slams her hands on the counter. “That’s it. We need to set a trap.”

Everyone freezes. Then slowly, heads begin to nod in agreement.

“A trap…” Giselle whispers. “To catch the perverts in the act. Expose them to the whole university!”

You stare at them, dumbfounded. “You do realize they’re already getting smarter, right? They know we’re aware of their stupid competition. If they catch even a whiff of a trap, they’ll just get sneakier.”

Karina turns to you, narrowing her eyes. “What’s your point, genius?”

“My point is, you’re dealing with people who’ve probably been planning this for weeks. You think a bunch of laundry-room heists happen without some kind of strategy?”

“They’re stealing panties,” Chaewon says flatly. “I don’t think they’re masterminds.”

“Yeah, but we don’t even know who’s participating,” Wonyoung chimes in, pacing nervously. “It could be anyone. Anyone! How are we supposed to catch them if we don’t know who they are?”

“It’s only boys, though, right?” Giselle asks, crossing her arms. “I heard someone say it’s all guys.”

“That’s the rumor,” Chaewon agrees. “But they’re good at hiding it. No one knows who’s actually in it.”

“So they’re sneaky and shameless,” Karina says with a scowl. “Great. That’s just what we need.”

“And let’s not forget,” Giselle cuts in, her voice dramatic, “the 28th is coming. The stakes are always higher at the end of the month.”

“Why does this sound like some Hunger Games bullshit?” you mutter, massaging your temples.

“Because it is,” Chaewon snaps. “But with underwear. Our underwear! And if we don’t do something, we’ll keep losing our stuff.”

Karina nods decisively. “We’ll need bait. A decoy pair of panties. Something irresistible.”

“Are you kidding me?” you ask, glaring at her.

“What?” she says defensively. “It’s a good plan!”

“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” you shoot back.

“No, it’s genius,” Giselle says, jumping in. “We lure them in, catch them red-handed, and BAM! Public humiliation!”

“Sure, if we don’t end up looking like idiots first,” you mutter, but no one’s listening anymore.

“Alright,” Karina declares. “Let’s get to work. We’re going to take those bastards down.”

You sigh, staring at the ceiling. This is going to end so badly.

“I’m going to get some fuck. This is stressing me out,” you say, throwing your hands up as you back away. Grabbing your laundry basket, you turn to leave.

Karina scoffs loudly, crossing her arms. “Are you even a girl’s girl? We’re literally planning a strategy to protect our panties, and you’re bailing on us?”

You shrug, pausing just long enough to glance back at her.

“I’m going to fuck and spy. I have a gut feeling about this,” you say, smirking as you turn away.

“You better get that dick and some information, girl!” Giselle shouts, raising her fist in support.

You throw her a mock salute before fully turning on your heel and walking out.

“Fuck, baby, yes!” Jake’s hips stutter, his grip on your hair tightening as you feel the familiar spurt of liquid hit your tongue.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a sly grin forming as you push him back onto the bed. Sliding onto his lap, you straddle him, feeling his body tense beneath you.

“Jake, miss me?” you whisper, grinding yourself against his oversensitive cock, teasing him further.

“Yes, baby, miss you so much—ohhh, fuck, I’m sensitive!” he whines, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks.

You chuckle, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth.

“Did you see my panties? The green ones I wore last time we fucked?” you ask, your voice low and teasing as you slide him inside, a soft moan escaping both of you.

“Hmm, I don’t think so, baby,” he says, gripping your waist tightly as you start moving, slow and deliberate, feeling his breath hitch beneath you.

“What about the pink ones? The lacey pair you said you liked? A bunch of my panties are missing lately.”

His hands tighten on your waist, but his face remains neutral. “Missing? Nah, baby, I don’t know anything about that.”

You lean in, your lips grazing his jawline as you trail soft kisses along his neck. “You sure? You don’t know anything?”

His laughter comes out nervous, almost forced. “Why would I?”

“Are you stealing my panties, baby?” you ask dumbly, your pace quickening as you move on top of him.

“Ah! Fuck, no, baby! Why would I steal your panties?” he groans, gripping your hips as his thrusts meet yours.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, your tone teasing. “Maybe it’s a kink or something.”

He angles his thrusts perfectly, pulling a loud moan from you. “A kink?” he chuckles breathlessly, his hand sliding to your neck. “What do you think I am? A panty thief?”

“Maybe,” you tease, biting your lip as you ride him faster, his hands guiding your hips firmly. “You’ve heard about that dumb competition, haven’t you?”

His movements falter slightly, just enough to catch your attention.

“What competition, baby?” he asks, his voice low as his mouth moves to your chest, sucking and nibbling your nipples making you gasp.

"Hmm," you moaned, threading your fingers through his hair. "You sure you don't know? Some boys' competition... stealing panties for money?"

He groans, his teeth grazing your skin before pulling back. “Why would I need to steal, baby? You’d give me yours if I asked, wouldn’t you?”

“Depends,” you murmur, your hips grinding harder. “What if you were doing it for the prize?”

He laughs shakily, his hands gripping your waist tighter. “Prize, huh? Sounds like something desperate guys would do.”

You catch the flicker of something in his eyes before he kisses you, thrusting harder, scattering your thoughts.

“You’re dodging,” you whisper against his lips, your voice unsteady as he moves with relentless rhythm.

“Not dodging. Just focusing on more important things,” he says, flipping you onto your back, his cock driving into you faster, pulling loud cries from your throat.

Pleasure ripples through you, your body arching beneath him as his hand finds your clit, circling it perfectly. The tension snaps, and you cry out, thighs trembling around him as you lose yourself.

“Fuck, baby, so tight. G-gonna cum!" Jake groans, his pace faltering as he reaches his release, his grip firm as he gasps, spilling inside you.

When the heat subsides, you collapse back against the bed, Jake pulling you close. His lips brush your shoulder as his fingers trace lazy patterns along your side.

“You know,” he murmurs, his tone teasing, “I’ll just buy you new panties if you’re so worked up about the missing ones.”

You freeze for a moment before forcing a lazy laugh. “Missing? I just said they were like misplaced.”

Jake smirks, that maddeningly cocky grin tugging at his lips. “Same difference, right? They’re gone, baby. Doesn’t matter why.”

His hand drifts to your thigh, squeezing lightly. You trace his chest with your fingers, your mind racing.

“Do you know your favorite red ones? They’re gone too,” you say, sighing with feigned frustration as you lean back.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “Why would they do that?”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “I don’t know! Maybe it’s some dumb power move or a competition. Either way, it’s disgusting.”

“My red ones were my favorite. The ones with the bow? Gone,” you add, watching his expression.

Jake chuckles nervously, his fingers twitching slightly on your waist. “Your favorite red ones, huh? That’s... really too bad.”

“Yeah,” you hum. “Apparently, it’s all for some competition. Karina swears it’s a thing. Points, cash, whatever.”

Jake stiffens briefly before forcing a grin. “Competition? That sounds made-up. Who’d waste their time on something like that?”

“That’s what I said,” you murmur, dragging your fingers slowly across his chest.

Jake laughs again, but it’s tight. “People are crazy. What would they even do with them?”

You shrugged, keeping your tone light. "I have no idea. Probably keep them as trophies, or sell them, or..." you paused, pretending to think. "...burn them in some weird ritual."

Jake snorted, shaking his head. "They don't sell them. Burn them? Nah, that'd be stupid."

You stilled, hand pausing on his chest. "Oh? Then what do they do with them?"

Jake blinked, realizing what he'd said, but his grin quickly returned. "I don't know! I'm just saying, if they went through all that trouble, burning them would be a waste, right?"

"Hmm." you hummed thoughtfully, shifting closer. "So you do know something about it?"

Jake's smirk faltered for the briefest second before he let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, babe. Come on, I'm just making guesses here. Like I said, people are crazy."

"Right." you rolled onto your back with a sigh, pretending to let it go. "Still, it's creepy. And no one's getting their stuff back. You'd think, if they weren't total cowards, they'd just admit it—or at least return the panties."

Jake chuckled nervously, shifting beside me. "Or, you know... maybe they're waiting for the right time to give them back. Like after the 28th or something."

You froze. Realizing that you never said anything to him about the 28th.

"The 28th?" you repeated slowly, sitting up slightly to look at him.

His eyes widened, but he quickly covered it with a sheepish grin, pulling you back down beside him. "I'm just talking, babe. Forget it. You're thinking way too hard about this."

Your heart raced, suspicious with his statement, though you kept your face neutral, your voice soft. "Oh, I don't know. You sound like you know a lot about it for someone who doesn't care."

Jake kissed you, his lips warm and insistent as his hands roamed over your body, trying to shift the mood. "Babe, I care about one thing right now, and it's you."

His hands slid upward, squeezing your chest as his lips traveled down to your neck.

You got him.

#enhypen #heesung #heesung smut #jake smut #enhypen fanfic #heesung x reader #beomgyu #jake x reader #enhypen fic #heesung enhypen

99 notes · View notes

cosmiclily · 3 days ago

Text

chapter ten: pretend

wc: 3.3k

notes: i’m so so sorry for taking so long to update, things have been crazy lately, but here it is !!! wrote it a little longer than usual to make up for the time!!

You were probably immune to all things Violet by now. You’d known each other for years, seen each other at your absolute worst—and not just in the emotional sense. You’d been vulnerable, raw, stripped down to nothing more than who you really were in front of her. Literally and figuratively. So, in your mind, you could totally pretend that this new, glaring realization didn’t affect you. Just push it aside and live your life. You were busy anyway—band stuff, deadlines, promotions. Who had time for feelings?

The day after you filmed the video, Vi showed up at your place like she always did, slipping inside without knocking, a bag of takeout in hand. You sat together on the couch, laptops open, going through the footage. Laughing at the awkward moments, cringing at the bloopers, and finally settling on the clips that captured the vibe you wanted. Once everything was sorted, you sent the files off to the editors, wiping your hands like that was the end of it.

And through it all, you pretended.

You pretended your heart didn’t skip a beat when she smiled at you, that little crooked grin that always tugged at the corner of her mouth. You pretended you didn’t feel your stomach flutter when her shoulder brushed against yours. You even pretended that the heat rushing through your veins wasn’t there when she leaned in a little too close to point something out on the screen, her breath warm against your skin.

But the real test?

Later, when the work was done, and you were both sprawled out on the couch, her lips found yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. And you let it happen. You wanted it to happen.

You pretended her mouth on yours didn’t make your pulse race faster than usual. You pretended the way her hands slid under your shirt, tracing over your skin, wasn’t driving you absolutely insane. Her hands touching every inch of your body was NOT driving you crazier than usual! No, definitely not.

But deep down, you knew you were full of shit.

With the absolutely packed schedule you were running on, it was almost easy to “forget” about those feelings. Between late nights at the studio, endless rehearsals, meetings with Archie, and sorting out last-minute details for the album, your brain barely had time to process anything outside of work. And honestly? That was a blessing in disguise. The more you threw yourself into the chaos, the less space there was to dwell on her. On this.

Now, you found yourself crammed into a van with the rest of the band, en route to some studio to film an interview for a popular channel. The van hummed with the low murmur of conversation, the occasional laugh breaking through as Jinx made some snarky comment that had Ekko rolling his eyes.

The promotions for the album were in full swing, and the momentum was intense. Ever since you dropped those duo videos—yours with Vi, Ekko’s with Jinx—the fans had been buzzing. Social media was blowing up with reactions, theories, memes, and a flood of excited comments. Your phone wouldn’t stop pinging with notifications, but you’d mostly been ignoring them.

Vi sat beside you, scrolling through her phone, occasionally chuckling at something on her screen. You could feel the warmth of her thigh pressed against yours, a simple, casual touch that shouldn’t have meant anything. But it did. God, it did.

You shifted slightly, trying to create some distance, but Vi noticed and shot you a curious glance. “You good?” she asked, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

Yeah, you thought, staring out the van window as the city blurred by. Tired. That was one way to put it.

──────────────────────

When you arrived, a smiling woman greeted you at the entrance, her clipboard tucked under one arm as she extended the other in a friendly handshake.

“Hey, welcome! I’m Maya,” she said, her tone bright and professional. “I’ll be walking you through how everything’s going to work today. Your dressing room’s down this hall—after you settle in, we’ll discuss the schedule for the day.”

You followed her down the sleek, dimly lit hallway, the scent of coffee and hairspray lingering in the air. The room was spacious, with a massive mirror framed by blinding lights. A bright green-haired woman wielded a makeup brush like a weapon, beckoning you to sit.

As you got your hair and makeup done, Maya explained the rundown. “So, we’ll start with group questions, then move on to individual ones. Your manager sent over the list of topics you’re not comfortable discussing, so we’ve already filtered those out. No worries, we’ll keep it smooth and easy.”

Jinx, who was getting bright blue shimmering eyeshadow blended across her lids, grinned and piped up, “I’m comfortable answering anything. I’m an open book.” She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, earning a chuckle from Ekko and an exaggerated eye roll from Vi.

Maya laughed, clearly amused. “Noted. We’ll make sure to throw the hard questions your way, then.”

You watched Vi through the mirror as a stylist tousled her short hair, sculpting it into an artfully messy look. She sat back, arms crossed, legs sprawled out like she owned the place, but her eyes kept flicking to you. Every time your gazes met, she’d smirk and look away, like she knew.

After everyone was ready, Maya led the group through the maze of hallways toward the studio. The faint buzz of nerves settled in your stomach—not from the interview, but from the familiar presence walking so casually beside you. Vi’s arm brushed against yours every so often, and you swore your heart skipped a beat each time.

She didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she did and just enjoyed watching you squirm.

“Relax,” she murmured, her voice a low hum that buzzed through your body like electricity. “It’s just an interview.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Just an interview.”

Just your best friend, who you’d been sleeping with. Just your best friend, who made your head spin and your chest ache.

Just Vi.

And that was the problem.

Because the more you tried to pretend, the harder it became to ignore the fact that you didn’t want to be immune to her at all.

──────────────────────

You made your way to the studio where your interview would be filmed, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off the sleek, polished floors. The set was minimalistic — a stark white background with four chairs carefully placed in a tight semicircle, arranged so only the four of you would be in frame. The simplicity of it all made the space feel even bigger, the emptiness swallowing up the ambient noise of crew members shuffling around, adjusting lights, and checking camera angles.

Maya, ever the efficient coordinator, positioned everyone in their places with practiced ease. She placed you between Jinx and Vi, a choice that made your chest tighten slightly. Ekko sat on Jinx’s other side, spinning his ring around his finger as he absentmindedly hummed one of your songs under his breath.

“Okay, perfect,” Maya said, stepping back to assess her arrangement like a painter inspecting her canvas. “This will look balanced on screen, and you guys can interact naturally. Just try not to lean too far out of frame.”

You nodded, wiping your slightly clammy hands on your jeans. The bright overhead lights felt blinding, the heat from them making your skin prickle. There were at least three massive cameras pointed at you, their lenses gleaming like unblinking eyes. The weight of their attention made you squirm, the sensation of being watched settling heavy in your bones.

“Good morning, guys!” The interviewer said. “We’ll start with some introductions, and then we’ll move on to the actual questions. Sound good?”

“Good morning!” Jinx chirped, waving at the nearest camera like she was greeting a livestream audience. She shot you a sideways grin, her blue eyeshadow shimmering under the lights. “I’m ready for my close-up.”

Ekko snorted, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll see if you’re still ready when they start digging into the lyrics.”

Jinx gasped, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. “Please, my lyrics are art. If anything, I should be winning awards.”

Vi chuckled lowly beside you, the sound rumbling through your body like static. She shifted in her seat, her thigh pressing against yours for just a second longer than necessary. The casual touch sent a jolt of awareness through you, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

You forced a smile, turning your attention to the camera in front of you. “Yeah, we’re good to go.” Your voice sounded steady, but you could feel the tension thrumming beneath your skin, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

Vi glanced at you, her mouth twitching like she wanted to say something, but she just rested her arm over the back of your chair, her fingers dangerously close to brushing your shoulder.

The interviewer cleared his throat, the subtle sound cutting through the moment like a knife. “Awesome! Let’s get started.”

You went through the motions with practiced ease — saying your names, introducing the band, and hyping up the upcoming album. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the four of you playing off each other’s energy. Jinx cracked jokes, Ekko added thoughtful insights, and Vi... well, Vi leaned back in her chair, her arm still draped over the back of yours, a lazy smirk tugging at her lips every time your eyes met.

It was all smiles and laughter, but you could feel the tension buzzing beneath the surface, thrumming in time with your heartbeat.

“So, for the first question, for the whole group,” the interviewer began, “describe your worst performance and what you learned from that experience.”

“Oh, I remember a good one!” Ekko said, already laughing, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. “Right after I started actively playing with them — before that, I was just the tech guy. We weren’t in sync yet, and during a school performance, I played the entire set off beat. Y/N wanted to kill me, and Jinx kept trying to help, but I just couldn’t keep up.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as the memory resurfaced. “It was painful. We were playing this slow, moody song, and Ekko was out there giving it full chaotic jazz vibes. I thought I was gonna combust on stage.”

“Oh, I remember that one,” Vi said, her laugh low and rough, her eyes glinting with amusement as she leaned forward. “You were shooting him death glares the whole time, and Jinx was trying to dance her way over to him to signal he was off.”

“I was signaling,” Jinx cut in, waving her hands dramatically. “I did everything short of tackling him. I thought we’d just turn it into a remix or something.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “The worst part was the crowd didn’t even care. They thought we were just... experimental or whatever.”

Ekko wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “Honestly, I think the lesson was that it’s better to mess up together than for one person to try and cover it up solo. It only works if we catch each other when we fall.”

Vi nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah. We’ve come a long way since then, but that show taught us that no matter how bad it gets, we get through it as a band.”

“Exactly,” you said, your voice quieter now, but steady. “We screw up, we fix it, and we keep going. That’s just how it is.”

The interviewer hummed, scribbling something down with a faint smile. “That’s a great answer. It shows how tight your bond is.”

You felt Vi shift beside you, her fingers briefly tapping against the back of your chair like a silent agreement. The contact lingered longer than it should have — or maybe you just noticed it more than you wanted to admit.

“Next question!” the interviewer continued, glancing at his notes. “Do you follow a process or ritual before a performance to get rid of nerves or performance anxiety?”

You exchanged a look with your bandmates, a grin already tugging at your lips. “I think we all have our little beliefs. Jinx has a lucky guitar pick, Ekko wears his lucky socks before a big performance.”

Ekko laughed and pulled up the leg of his jeans, proudly showing off his obnoxiously bright orange socks covered in little lightning bolts.

“Power socks,” he declared, wiggling his toes.

You all burst out laughing, the sound filling the room like it belonged there.

“Vi sings her favorite Mötley Crüe song while doing push-ups,” you added, glancing at her with a smirk. “And I do the superhero pose!”

“The superhero pose?” the interviewer repeated, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yeah, you know.” You hopped up from your seat, standing tall in front of the camera. “Hands on your hips, chest out — like this!”

You struck the pose, exaggerating it to the point of ridiculousness, your chin tilted upward like you were about to fly off into space.

Jinx cackled, nearly doubling over. “You forgot to mention you also give yourself a pep talk like you’re in a movie montage.”

Vi leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, watching you with an amused gleam in her eyes. “She calls herself the ‘guardian of the stage’ like it’s a full-time job,” she teased, her voice low and laced with mischief.

You dropped the pose and turned to face them, pointing accusingly at Vi. “Hey, and what about you? You sing ‘Kickstart My Heart’ at full volume like you’re summoning ancient spirits.”

Vi shrugged, completely unfazed. “It works.”

“It does,” Ekko agreed, rubbing his chin. “Weirdly enough, it does.”

You sat back down, your heart still racing from the outburst of laughter.

The interviewer chuckled, shaking his head as he made more notes. “I love that. It sounds like you’ve found ways to channel the nerves into something fun.”

“Or chaotic” Jinx corrected.

The interviewer grinned, leaning back in his chair, eyes glinting with curiosity. “Now to the juicy questions!” he said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Are you single, dating, talking to someone special right now?” He turned to you specifically, wiggling his eyebrows like he was trying to crack you open. “Who are the love songs on your new album about?”

Your brain short-circuited for half a second.

The question hung in the air, deceptively casual, but you could feel all three of your bandmates shifting slightly beside you, their interest piqued. Jinx leaned in, her blue eyes practically sparkling with mischief, while Ekko shot you a knowing smirk. Even Vi, who normally looked like she couldn’t be bothered with gossip, turned her head ever so slightly in your direction, her gaze unreadable.

You forced out a laugh. “Wow, straight to the drama, huh?” Your heart was already hammering against your ribs.

The interviewer chuckled, clearly enjoying your hesitation. “Hey, the fans want to know! Your lyrics this time around are very emotional—people are dying to figure out who inspired them.”

You felt Vi shift beside you, her elbow brushing against yours again. You didn’t dare look at her.

Jinx propped her chin on her hand, grinning. “Yeah, Y/N, who did you write about?”

You shot her a glare, but it held no real heat. “We all wrote the songs, Jinx.”

“Yeah, yeah, but your vocals in some of them?” Jinx wiggled her eyebrows. “There’s some real feeling in there.”

Ekko hummed in agreement. “You do sound hella in love on a couple of tracks. Like, full-on heart-eyes mode.”

Vi didn’t say anything, but you could feel her looking at you. You weren’t sure if that made it better or worse.

You let out a breath, forcing yourself to relax into the chair. “I think,” you started carefully, “that people always want to assign songs to specific people or situations, but music isn’t always that simple.” You gestured vaguely. “A lot of the time, a song is a mix of different experiences, emotions, even things that haven’t happened but could have.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not really.

The interviewer raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying there’s no one in particular?”

Before you could answer, Vi spoke. “She’s saying,” she said smoothly, “that if you’re looking for juicy confessions, you’re outta luck.”

The way she said it—easy, playful—should have made you relax. But instead, something twisted in your chest. You weren’t sure why.

The interviewer laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. No confessions today. But what about you, Vi?” He turned his attention to her. “You’ve got a few songs that sound very personal. Care to share?”

Your breath caught.

Vi tilted her head slightly, considering. You knew exactly which songs he was talking about. Her songs. The ones she wrote about Caitlyn.

The ones you’d tried not to think about too hard.

For a moment, she didn’t answer. Then, she leaned back, her arm still draped casually over the back of your chair. “You ever hear the phrase ‘write what you know’?”

The interviewer nodded.

Vi shrugged. “That’s all it is.”

Simple. Dismissive. But you knew better. You could hear the quiet weight in her voice, the way she was sounding a little too casual when Caitlyn came up.

You swallowed hard, keeping your expression neutral.

Jinx, of course, had no such filter. She groaned, flopping back dramatically. “Ugh, you guys are so boring. If I had a dramatic love life, I’d be milking it for all it’s worth.”

Ekko snorted. “Please. You do have a dramatic love life.”

The conversation shifted, the interviewer laughing as he moved on to another question, but your mind was still stuck on Vi’s answer. Or maybe just the way it made your stomach twist.

Because as much as you tried to pretend otherwise, you wanted a different answer from her.

And that terrified you.

The rest of the interview went smoothly. By the time it wrapped up, you had covered just about every topic imaginable—tour plans, songwriting processes, the band's dynamic, and even a few lighthearted debates about who had the worst habits on the road.

As you stood up, stretching out the stiffness in your legs, Maya clapped her hands together, gathering everyone’s attention. “Great job, guys! This should be out in a couple of days, but we’ll be releasing some promo clips beforehand, so be ready to share them on your socials.”

Jinx groaned dramatically, already scrolling through her phone. “Ugh, more notifications. My comment section is chaos after that last video drop.”

“You love it,” Ekko teased, nudging her with his elbow.

Vi chuckled, shaking her head as she shoved her hands into her pockets. She was relaxed, completely unbothered—as if the last hour hadn’t included any potentially awkward moments at all.

Unlike you.

The ride home passed in a blur, your mind still tangled up in the same thought that had been gnawing at you since the interview.

"If you’re expecting juicy confessions, you aren’t getting any."

What had Vi meant by that?

Logically, it was just her way of shutting down the question—keeping things vague, dodging personal topics like she always did. But for some reason, the way she said it stuck with you.

Was she just playing it cool? Did she actually not want to talk about her own feelings? Or… was there simply nothing to confess?

You sighed, sinking onto your couch as soon as you got home, your phone still clutched in your hand. The notifications were endless—fans speculating, memes already popping up, people dissecting every glance exchanged during the interview.

And at the center of it all?

You and Vi.

Because no matter how much you tried to bury your feelings, it was getting harder and harder to pretend they didn’t exist.

──────────────────────

masterlist - chapter eleven

taglist: @saturnhas82moons @oidloid @vaebear @wicked-laugh @baylegend6 @nomarksonelegance @antobooh @80saturn

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #lily writes

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decaffeinatedbreadsublime · 8 months ago

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Rajesh Koothrappali x Female!Reader: The Comic Con Redemption

Author's Note: I love Raj very much and want to rewrite moments from the series including a girlfriend for him to pretend he didn't end up alone.

P.S.: English is not my first language, and this is my first imagine. Sorry for any mistakes.

Warning: none

Summary: You've just been promoted to Girlfriend of the Millennium.

(gif just to illustrate their happiness, lol)

Raj sighed, disheartened. "The tickets sold out… I didn’t get any."

It was another tense day at the opening of Comic Con ticket sales. The friends had gathered at Sheldon’s apartment, all agitated, each with their laptop in hand. They frantically pressed F5 until they managed to get into the virtual queue—if they managed to.

"I didn’t get one either," Howard replied. From the frustrated faces of Leonard and Sheldon, it was evident they hadn’t succeeded either.

"This was supposed to be the best Comic Con in the last 20 years," Leonard lamented. "I can’t believe we’re going to miss it."

"Now I know how Mexican immigrants feel when they’re barred from entering the United States and living the American dream they desire so much," Sheldon commented, his voice monotone in a sad tone.

"…No, Sheldon, you don’t know," Leonard said. Despite the frustration, he didn’t agree with Sheldon’s exaggerated drama.

When you arrived at the apartment from your shift at Caltech’s Computational Mathematics lab, where you worked as a researcher, the atmosphere was similar to a funeral. The last time you saw them this sad was when Tony Stark had died.

"Oh, no," you said, going to your boyfriend Raj’s side and sitting on the arm of the chair he occupied. "Don’t tell me another superhero died… when Tony Stark died, you were in mourning for three days, it was horrible."

"It’s worse," Sheldon said. "We didn’t get tickets to Comic Con."

"I already had my cosplay ready," Leonard sighed.

"Speaking of which," you stood up, took the bag that was still on your shoulder, and pulled out four identical pieces of paper. "Julie’s husband, who was my roommate at Harvard, works in event organization and is organizing this year’s Comic Con. I got four tickets for you guys."

You placed the tickets on the table, and everyone stood still for a few seconds, completely immobile. Sheldon picked up one of the tickets from the coffee table, analyzed it cautiously, and held it up to the light to verify its authenticity. When he finished, he put the ticket back on the table and sat up straight, in complete silence.

"Well?" Howard asked.

"They’re real," Sheldon replied.

"Y/N, YOU GENIUS, WONDERFUL WOMAN!" Raj instantly shouted. He quickly got up from the chair, went to you, gave you a hug that lifted you off the ground, and spun you around. Then he kissed you intensely.

"Why didn’t you tell us you had the tickets?" Leonard asked.

"Julie’s husband could only confirm if he could get them 30 minutes before the official batch opened," you explained. "I didn’t want to say anything before to avoid creating expectations. And when I got them, I called Raj five times, but he didn’t answer. So I called you guys, and no one answered. But I decided to get the tickets anyway, and if you managed to buy some, I could sell them, so it would be a win-win situation."

"We were doing finger stretches to avoid cramps while buying the tickets," Sheldon explained. "That’s why we missed the call."

You laughed. "Well, I guess you owe me one."

Raj hugged you again, kissing your temple. "Consider me your servant for the next weeks."

#the big bang theory #TBBT #raj koothrappali #the big bang theory raj #raj koothrappali x reader #raj koothrappalixreader #raj koothrappali fluff #the big bang theory fluff #raj koothrappali imagine #Raj koothrappali/reader

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ribbonsncherries · 3 days ago

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The Contract

Warnings: Lots of smut, P in V, Oral (both m and f receiving), BDSM!, Sexual Assault, Stalking, Angst, Alcohol mentions, Dominant and submissive plot, Drug Mentions, Virgin user, mentions of drugs.

Chapter 5

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x inexperienced! User

Summary: When her roommate and work partner gets sick, she is in charge of interviewing famous billionaire businessman Dean Winchester for his new bar's grand opening which leads to a passionate and tumultuous affair where she discovers his dark sexual desires, marked by control and dominance. The one catch? He doesn't do romance.

Based on the trilogy Fifty Shades of Grey.

(3818 Words)

Divider credits: @dollywons, @anitalenia, @selysie

(y/n) woke up alone once again. She stepped into her kitchen in some random clothes from the laundry that had never been folded because of last night. Although she enjoyed it, well, a little too much, there were some thoughts. The way he just tied her up like that aroused her in such a good way. But when she read the contract once more, there were lots of things she wanted to adjust, such as certain kinks she was not comfortable with. “Alright, two large pepperoni pizzas for the new official editors for Runway!” Jessica shouted while carrying pizzas. Castiel had promoted only a few people for a promotion, so they were moving up another floor, which meant having a high status in the company. Well, according to the workers, that is. There have been fewer and fewer people going up the ranks, so when Jessica and (y/n) found out, they decided to throw their small party. Soon, there will be a work party where a special speaker is going to be talking to ‘encourage’ the newly promoted workers. “Also known as the hottest new editors,” Jessica added while pouring in some wine. (y/n) laughed while she took the wine cup.

“God, I still can’t believe it. I started at Runway as an intern, and now I'm a big-time magazine editor” (y/n), smirked, “I’ll take a sip to that sister,” They clanked their glasses together and drank the wine. “I’ll be right back. Go ahead and eat without me; I need to use the bathroom,” Jessica said. (y/n) nodded, and while Jessica went to the bathroom (y/n), took out her laptop and messaged Dean.

“I’m having issues with the paperwork and need to discuss it with you.”

Dean and Sam were working once again; they had just bought new land for them to produce wine. A new approach compared to their liquor products. They had decided to build a vineyard, barn, and all. “Okay, so for the house, we already contacted our usual contractors and workers. They sent us some blueprints for the barn and the house.” Sam was rambling along about the vineyard while Dean was yawning over it. Sam permitted Dean to help design the house and barn for the land. While planning the different rooms for the barn and house, Dean heard the ping from his computer. He saw the message coming from his laptop. He smirked as he responded.

On (y/n)’s side, she was biting her fingernails in nervousness as she saw the notification in the corner of her laptop. He immediately responded.

I’d be disappointed if you didn’t; let’s discuss this over dinner tonight.

She thought hard about it before responding.

It is a contract, I prefer this to be an important meeting rather than dinner.

Dean responded, agreeing.

Before the dinner took place, Dean had asked what she was wearing to the meeting, wondering if it was professional business attire. All she responded was that she was wearing a trash bag. Which gave him note that this was an actual business meeting and not a game she was playing.

(y/n) came up the elevator with the bright colored envelope holding her contract and the pen she was given when she first met him that still had the bright gold Winchester Elixirs logo on it. As she came up the elevator and the door opened, there he was waiting for her in a classy black on black suit. “Ms. (l/n).” He said. “Mr. Winchester, let’s get this going.” She said. He whispered in her ear when they were walking down the hall. “Ain't that one hell of a garbage bag you’re wearing,” he said. She smiled and scoffed, “Business meeting, seriousness please.” she said. They walked into an empty meeting room where he had just been with his brother earlier discussing blueprints. Now, here he was discussing a sex contract. “Super impressive. You outdid yourself,” she said, hearing the echoes of her heels.

“This ain’t my first rodeo sweetheart.” She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him up and down with a serious face, thinking he meant he discussed this with other girls. He quickly took note and pushed her hair back. “I meant business meetings.” He said before taking a seat. (y/n) took a seat and opened her contract, taking out the Winchester Elixers pen. She’s done meetings before as well, so she treated it as one. Not taking in his charms or jokes. “If you could open your contract to page three, sections 15-20, “The submissive shall submit to any sexual activity demanded by the dominant and shall do so without hesitation or argument.’ I’m not going to be doing everything you say. I have my voice to weather I conset to whatever you want me to do.”

“Affirmative.” He responded by crossing out certain words and writing down his terms.

“If you turn to page five, section named ‘soft limits’” she ordered. Dean turned to the page “With you.” he said reading over the small section seeing if he made any mistakes of somekind she might be calling out.

“First of all i’m not doing any fisting, anal, vaginal, none. Cross it out.” She said, looking up at him. She looked into his eyes as he tilted his head. He nodded as his pen crossed it out.

“In the same page “is the use of sex toys accebtable to the submissive. Dildos are a yes, vibrators are a yes, and spanking, whipping, and gags are ok. Cross out any clamps.” Dean nodded and crossed it out. She paused as she saw two women come in with some food, (y/n) covered the contract with the folder that it came in. They placed the plate of food and some wine upon her and Dean. “Thank you,” they both said.

“It’s alright, only a few staff know what’s going on, they know,” he said. “Please continue.”

She took a sip of wine and continued, “Page five, there are some terms I need you to define.” Dean gestured for her to proceed. “Suspension?” she asked. Dean smirked, even thinking about it. “Hanging on ropes.” She made a face.“What reason do you have for that?” she asked.

“For your pleasure.” She scoffed. “Really?” she said. “And also mine, something to consider,” he said.

“Yeah, hard pass. Roleplay?” she asked.

“We each take different roles and act them in the bedroom, such as a monster hunter and damsel in distress.” He explained. (y/n) nodded. “I’m ok with that,” she said. Dean smirked as she wrote down the definition on the contract for herself to keep. She turned to a different page,

“Page 4, Section 2, 'Is bondage acceptable to the submissive?’ Rope is fine, leather cuffs, handcuffs, I’m not using tape, and please give an example what’s other?” She asked. Dean leaned back. “Cable ties,” he said. (y/n) smirked as she wrote down the example. “And can I just say how impressed I am that you take this business meeting very seriously? I’ll throw in a sweetener for you, sweetheart. Once a week, on a night of your choosing, we go on a date, like any other couple, to dinner, a movie, or whatever you want.” (y/n) smiled to herself. “I accept, thank you. That’s all I needed to discuss with you today. Thank you again for meeting with me.” She said, putting the contract in the folder, “I’ll make sure to look through the changes and make my decision by the end of tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving?” he asked, getting up and walking towards her as she was still sitting down. “Yes,” she said. “Your body is saying otherwise, princess.” he came closer to her. “Your legs, the way you’re pressing your thighs together under the table.” His hand came to her arm, softly running over her skin. “Whenever I touch you. I can feel the hairs on your arm stand, along with goosebumps. You’re change in breathing, and you’re flushing…not because of the wine; it’s the adrenaline.” She was surprised she could tell all that. “Surprised you can tell all that,” she said, still looking ahead, not wanting to face him. Dean moved her hair to one side, revealing the skin on her neck. He leaned in “Do you know how hard it was for me to see you in this dress, and not wanting to fuck you over this table right now. Making it all foggy and wet from me fucking you.” He whispered in her ear. “Sweetheart, I already know you like the back of my hand.” She breathed in. “What did you want to do to me exactly?” She said.

Dean removed his tie, making it loose. “I would help you out of that little dress of yours, only to see those white cotton panties with a wet patch from me. The I would bend you over on this table, and fuck the living hell out of you.” He said to her. She turned to him, finally meeting her eyes with his. “Thank you for you’re time, Mr. Winchester.” She said, getting up and walking out the door. Dean got up as well and met up with her outside, thanking one of his employees for bringing her coat and helping her put it on. Dean smirked at the staff while he led her outside to her car. “This is you?” he asked. (y/n) laughed, “Yeah, had her since college.” She said, looking at her beat-up car. Dean laughed straight in her face. “What’s so funny?” she asked. Dean finished laughing and looked at her, “For a new editor for a fashion magazine and classic rock chick, I figured you would drive somethin’ nice, not whatever this is,” He said, gesturing to her car. She scoffed, “Yeah, well, I’ll buy myself a car when the mortgage for my side of the rent is fully paid for, my bills are paid, and my insurance is paid for.” She said. Before she got in the car, Dean stopped her.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to keep you from leaving?” He asked. (y/n) smiled, “Good night, Dean.” She said softly.

“When will you know?” he asked her. “I’ll know soon, by the end of tomorrow maybe.” She shrugged. She leaned in and kissed his cheek before getting in her car. “Why do I think you’re telling me goodbye Sound of Music style?” She laughed at his reference, “Cause I’m getting in my car and leaving?” She said. She waved her hand and said farewell like how the Von Trapp kids gestured it. She got in her car and drove home back to her apartment where Jessica was waiting.

When she got home, she heard a bang in Jessica’s room that sounded like it was against the wall. Her heart dropped to her stomach; she grabbed a baseball bat they had in a corner and (y/n) was ready to strike. She opened the door to see Jessica and Sam in Jessica’s bed. “Oh my god!” Jessica laughed. (y/n) covered her eyes. “I am so sorry! Holy Shit!” She could hear the sounds of scrambling and footsteps. “You’re good now (y/n).” She opened her eyes and saw both of them panting, and their hair unraveled. “I didn’t think you would come home early. I assumed you were gonna stayed overtime at work.” (y/n) was still a little shocked; she nervously touched her hair. “I-I got let out early. I finished reviewing stuff.” She said. “I’m going to bed. Carry on. I’ll have my headphones on.” She said before leaving the room. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get going,” Sam said to (y/n). Her put on his jacket while Jessica let him out. They both walked out of the apartment building and said their goodbyes.

Jessica came back inside, shivering, wearing Sam’s jacket. “God, it’s freezing outside.” She giggled. “Hey…you ok?” She asked. (y/n) was out of it, from the contract to what he would do to her. She was shocked. “Yeah, I’m fine, just kinda tired, Jess.” (y/n) smiled. “Well, we need to see what we’re wearing tomorrow for the work party. So get some rest 'cause we are going shopping.” Jessica smiled. (y/n) collapsed on the couch and scoffed. “With what money?” she asked. “With Sam’s money, he gave me his credit card for me to spend as much as I want. God, I love him.” (y/n) smiled, “Do you love him…like really?” She asked genuinely. “Yeah..I think so…(y/n) I like him. A lot. And I know he’s rich and he’s that single gullible guy, but I don’t care about all that. He’s the most amazing guy I’ve dated; he’s like a gentle giant. A gentle moose if anything.” She giggled. “And trust me, I like it when he spoils me and stuff, but I’m able to communicate with him that sometimes it’s too much. But he told me that he was going to the party and that his brother was gonna speak at the work party and-”

(y/n) was starstruck, one that Jessica had finally might’ve found the love of her life but Dean was the speaker at their work party. “Wait…I’m sorry, Dean is going?” she asked Jessica, who smirked. “I knew you would stop me at that part. Now you can see why I need you to shop with me so I can show off what Sam had, and you can show Dean what he’s missing out on.” She smiled. “I can’t do that. But I’m happy for you, Jess.” She smiled. “Well, I don’t care. We are going shopping because the dresses you have are all mine.” She said.

“Ok, this one?” Jessica said, holding up a red one. “It can remind him of a pretty rose.” She added. (y/n) looked at it from afar. “Hmm, I feel like we need something that can bring out your hair and eyes,” she said. (y/n) grabbed a nice satin black dress with thin straps. “This one can bring attention to your body and a nice updo to show off your boobs to Sam.” Jessica smiled. “And that’s why we are editors to a fashion magazine.” She smiled.

After Jessica tried on a few more dresses and finally chose the black one, it was (y/n)’s turn. She opened the curtain so many times, each dress was either too frumpy, too poofy, too old, too skimpy for a work party, but for a club, yes. “Ok, try this one.” Jessica went inside the dressing room. “God, Jess, I’m naked,” (y/n) said, covering herself up. “Relax, it’s not like I haven't seen you before. Turn around.” (y/n) did what she was told, and Jessica zipped her up. They came out of the dressing room (y/n)and saw the beautiful slick dark blue dress with little detailing. It made her chest pop and her legs look longer. “Dean will be drooling, trust me.” After they purchased their dress and ate some lunch, they began getting ready for the party.

“Don’t put too much blush.” (y/n) warned her after last time. Jessica did a simple makeup look with some elegance to it. Simple eyeliner and lipstick make her face pop. (y/n)’s hair was left down with a small clip in her hair. “There, you’re ready.” Jessica had her blonde hair in an updo with some jewelry to match her eyes. As they arrived at the party, their work friends found them and immediately formed their little group. Sam and Jessica had finally introduced themselves as a couple, and their work friends were excited, especially Castiel. Everyone had gotten served a glass of wine, and before anyone drank it, Castiel came upon the podium.

“Hello, my money makers.” Everyone laughed at his small joke. “First of all, I’m extremely honored and eternally grateful that I am your editor in chief. I’m just as excited as you to welcome our new workers who have been promoted. I’m extremely proud of every one one of you. As a magazine dedicated to the art of fashion, we take pride in shining a spotlight not only on the designers and the high-fashion moments but also on the workers who make it all happen. Your hard work, resilience, and creativity are the threads that hold the entire industry together. Thank you for your dedication. Thank you for your passion. And thank you for making the world of fashion as vibrant, dynamic, and meaningful as it is today. Now, it is my honor to introduce my brother from another mother, my friend, the man who made our October issue skyrocket, Mr. Dean Winchester.”

Everyone began clapping, especially the girls who were fans of him and were clearly interested in him. (y/n) saw how they eyed him down as he came up on the podium. “Thank you, you weird dorky dude with angel wings.” Dean had found (y/n); she was wearing a dress that made his hands grip the podium, which made his knuckles white. “First of all, I want to congratulate all the employees who have been promoted. you have shown great skill and great sensability, and were obviously were able to keep up with everything has to be perfect guy over here.” Dean said, gesturing to Castiel. As he continued talking, one of the girls in front of (y/n) was whispering, “God, I wonder why he’s single. Look at those arms,” one whispered. “Yeah, he could choke me with hands all he wants,” the other said. (y/n) leaned in. “I heard he’s gay,” she whispered. The girl’s eyes widened as they continued to look at Dean, who was still talking.

“Second of all, I’m very proud and honored to be one of the reasons why Runway is skyrocketing, and I believe you owe this party to the two employees that made it happen.” Dean looked at the table (y/n) he was at with Jessica. He saw (y/n) clench her thighs while she bit her nails. “Ms. Moore and Ms. (l/n), you have done a wonderful job with the article and managed to keep Cas sane.” Jessica and (y/n) smiled as the people clapped for them. Dean could only stare at Dean and not pay attention to the people around them. Castiel was persuaded to come up to give them a small part adoration. So when Jessica shook Dean’s hand, it was (y/n)’s turn. As she shook his hand with a grip, she nodded. “I’ll do it,” she whispered. Dean gripped her hand a little tighter as he smirked and let the girls on their way. As the party erupted in a small dance, outside were cameras and paparazzi wanting a photo of Castiel or the Winchester brothers. “Mr. Winchester, can we get a photo?” Dean had dragged (y/n), who was in the corner and had his hand on her waist, and they took the photo. He positioned her to a right angle, and the picture was taken.

Jessica was taken to Sam’s nearby penthouse in the city while (y/n) and Dean went back to her apartment to have a little celebration of their own.

(y/n) immediately moved away from the champagne bottle popping. The sounds of Led Zepplin and Metallica rang throughout the small apartment. Dean and (y/n) giggled at her reaction. He poured in the glass of champagne. “To celebrate your promotion and other things,” he smirked. (y/n) rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, other things,” she joked. Dean looked at her “roll your eyes at me again and I’ll smack that ass of yours.” (y/n) was taken aback “Oh.” she smirked. They clinked their glasses and drank the champagne. There was a buzz at the door. (y/n) wondered who it could be at this hour?” Dean took the glass from her hands and placed it on the table.

“Come, I have something to show you.” He said, taking her hands. He led her outside, and a man had handed him the keys to a beautiful car. It was a nice, sleek black car and one of the newest models he could find. “Wow, it’s nice. Doesn’t seem like your style, you know?” She smiled, looking at it a little closer. Dean giggled. “It’s not sweetheart,” he said. He took her hands and placed the car keys in her palm. “Congratulations on your promotion (y/n).”

She looked away from him and at the car in shock. “Dean…Dean, that’s a car.” She pointed out. Dean looked at the car, then back at her. “Congratulations, you just passed. That is a car.” He joked. “Dean..I-I can’t.”

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“What are you talking about if I like it? Dean, it’s beautiful. But I have a car.”

“Benny is lookin’ to get a price on it.” Allison rolled her eyes in frustration. Her car was taken away, and now she gets a whole new one. It was a lot to process at once. “Did you just roll your eyes at me, sweetheart?”

He took her in the house and locked the door. He sat on the couch and dragged her body across his lap. “You know why I’m doin’ this?” he asked her. (y/n) who was aroused, giggled, “Because I rolled my eyes.”

“And is that polote to do to me?” he asked, gripping her hips. “No.” she chuckled. “Excuse me?”

“No, sir,” she responded. Dean immediately pushed her dress to her waist and brought her underwear down, which made her whimper from the sudden cold air. He smacked her ass once. And again. She whimpered and moaned, very much enjoying this. He brought her underwear back and helped her up. She got on his lap and kissed him, which he immediately responded to by putting his hands on her waist and kissing her back. But he stopped and looked up at her. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Nothin’ remembered that I need some stuff to do in the office.” He said. He slowly took her off his lap and put on his coat.

(y/n) sat on the couch as he put on his coat. “You ok?” he asked, touching her face. “Yeah… I just thought…” she went quiet. Dean made her look up at him. “I enjoyed tonight, I really did. I’ll see you at my place tomorrow, alright, sweetheart?” he said. (y/n) looked up at him and nodded. He kissed her forehead and let himself out. As he left, she looked down at the window as he drove away. She took a deep breath in and out before going to bed, wanting to forget how he had left her and to also remember the kiss they shared.

Taglist: @applelovesposts @ladykitana90 @cevansbaby-dove @cleacc

A/N: Hey guys! So, first of all, thx for the support for the last chapter. I really appreciate y'all so much! Thank you for your understanding with my busy life. So right now, this chapter is kinda sucky cause I tried to make it for y'all in time. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. And I'll see you guys next time!

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twilghtkoo · 2 years ago

Text

ride: first date [part one] jjk

“you nervous?” “yeah.”

summary. you’re first date with jungkook and he’s picking you up on his motorcycle

pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)

genres/au. fluff, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, college au

warnings. flirty jungkook, oc and jk touch each other (not sexual), poor attempt at motorcycle knowledge (my fault) T__T, if i missed anything pls lmk!!

word count. 1.6k

notes. first part!! and the beginning of a new series but with jungkook o.o i rly liked this one hehe, pls like and reblog if u enjoyed this !! also did y’all see jungkook’s promotion schedule photo bc W T F

[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]

—

you’re the girl he’s had a crush on since he saw you for the first time in the library on campus. you were wearing grey sweatpants and a random hoodie with your hair tied up in a low ponytail, your glasses framing your face in the most prettiest way. you were frantically typing and writing stuff down on your laptop, and when he had walked over to take a seat next to you— after the pep talk he had with himself— your notes still looked neat and colorful despite your distressed scribbling.

after he had the courage to tap you on the shoulder and start a conversation, you’ve both quickly became friends. it was surprising to see how well you both bonded together. and you’re not usually someone who makes friends so easily, it having to do with your shyness and social anxiety. but jungkook had a charm and such an easy-going personality that drew you in.

you’ve mostly hung out on campus, both of your schedules not aligning in your favors due to exam season. so your hangouts were located in the library most of the time. opting to studying together and just being satisfied basking in each others presence.

around the tenth hangout, jungkook asked you out on a date. you were working on a quiz and he was writing an essay when he slid a piece of paper over to you before he went back to typing on his laptop.

will you go out on a date with me this saturday?

check ☐ yes or ☐ yes :)

you would’ve said yes even if he gave you a ‘no’ option.

a couple days later, before the weekend, he had walked you to the campus’s bus stop and waited with you. you had an evening class and it ended around eight, the blue sky now turning a shade darker as the minutes pass and it made you frown.

“how do you get home? you said you park in parking garage b and that’s across campus. you didn’t have to walk me here, although i really appreciate it.” you said, worried. from the eyes of others, jungkook looks tough, if his tattoos, piercings, fit figure had anything to go by. but you cared about him and it’s natural for you to be worried. anything could happen.

your concerns make him grin, he shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“i’m okay, promise. and i ride my bike to get places.” he assures you.

you tilt your head, staring at him with curious eyes. “like a motorcycle?”

he nods, holding his small grin when he watches your eyes grow bigger.

you gasp, “really? you own a motorcycle?”

“yup, she’s my baby. got her when i turned 20. she’s precious to me.” he tells you before leaning down next to your ear. “but don’t worry you’re more precious.”

you didn’t have time to respond because your transportation pulls up and jungkook grabs your hand to walk you to the entrance of the bus.

jungkook arrived at your place a bit early but he couldn’t help it. he was excited. he had texted you he was here but told you not to rush.

he’s has never been this nervous in his life since having to tell his mom he wanted to major in computer science and not med school like she wanted. he’s nervous because he’s going on a date with you.

and you’re in your bedroom trying to gather your necessities into your shoulder bag, deciding to take a peek through your window that shows the front of your building and you’re able to see jungkook next to his bike.

he’s not sure how to stand when you walk out your door. should he lean against his bike with his arms crossed? he almost decided to just sit on it but why if he’s going to get off anyways to greet you. should he pretend he’s on his phone until he sees you?

“kook!”

he is shaken out of his internal turmoil when he spots you lightly jogging up to him, a radiant smile lighting up your entire face with warmth and joy.

“sorry, did i make you wait?” she brushes a few strands of hair out of her face, peering up at him with guilt and curiosity with the shiny black bike next to him.

he quickly shakes his head. “no, i wasn’t waiting long. don’t worry.” he assured you.

“you look pretty.” jungkook compliments you, scanning your features with the same grin he had when he had asked you out on a date.

you blush, “thank you, you too. i mean, you look really really handsome.”

his eyes crinkled at the edges and the corners of his lips turned upwards. his lip piercings shining and glaring from the sunlight, almost blinding you.

he notices you staring at his bike with interest.

“you nervous?”

“yeah.” you admit, sheepishly smiling.

you watch as jungkook unzips his leather jacket and sliding it off before he makes his way to you. he helps you slide off your bag before helping you slide your arms in the sleeves. his smell and the soft scent of his cologne makes you feel giddy inside and makes your heart hammer.

“i’ll ride slow, i have precious cargo today.” he responds, zipping the jacket up and grabbing all your hair from out the jacket. an action that makes your heart beat louder out of your chest.

you slide your bag back over your head to rest on your shoulder as you watch jungkook grab the helmet that rested on the back of his bike.

“did the bike come with an extra helmet?” you question, genuinely curious.

he’s careful to not mess up your hair as he slides the helmet over your head, and strapping it on.

he hums before he responds. “no, i bought it yesterday.” he tightens a strap, then asking if it was too tight, you said no.

“you bought it for me?”

“i told you, i have precious cargo. can’t have nothing happen to you.” he finishes making sure your helmet was secured, lightly patting the top of it before he slid his on.

watching jungkook do his thing and putting on his gloves was kind of hot…okay, really hot.

jungkook gets on first, kicking the kick stand off the ground and holds out his gloved hand for you to take. giving your hand a squeeze as he notices your small steps before you climb on behind him. instantly wrapping your arms around his tiny waist, when you tightened your grasp you were able to feel the sculpted muscles underneath his t-shirt. only making you intrigued on what’s hiding beneath the thin cotton fabric.

“hold on to me okay, squeeze me if anything.” he tells you softly, but you know he’s serious.

the sound of his motorcycle coming to life was like a breath of fresh air. in fact, his frequent gentle touches at stop lights were everything calming and you appreciated it.

the light just turned red and jungkook slows down to a stop. your knees rested against his hips as your arms circled his waist, both your hands linked together. he frees his hands from the handle bars to rest on your hands, giving them a squeeze.

and god, you’re very thankful for this helmet that’s hiding your red face and your embarrassingly huge smile.

his hands then roam to your knees then down your shins, patting a rhythm and then running over your denim covered leg soothingly.

is he doing this to make you go crazy? cause it’s working.

you’re not sure if it was the coffee you had this morning or his touches that boosted this sudden confidence but your hands loosened around his hips and gripped them. squeezing where his bare skin ends and you feel the hem of his black jeans.

jungkook places a hand over yours, not letting your hands move anywhere else. he wants yours to stay where it’s at for the moment.

he tilts his head back. “you doing okay?”

you nod, “yeah, you’re a safe driver. five stars.” you joke.

he chuckles at that and the light turns green.

he took you to a dog cafe. not just any dog cafe, but a corgi cafe. you didn’t even know this cafe existed. oh but through the big window in the front of the building, seeing the few corgis you could see, you wanted to burst with excitement.

“you like corgis?” he asks, pointing to the pen that’s in your hand with an acrylic artwork of a corgi at the end. you had bought it at a stationery store a few weeks ago.

your lips curve upward into a small but genuine smile. “yeah, they’re my favorite dogs.”

he smiles with you, mentally storing that information into his brain.

“you haven’t been here before have you?” he asks nervously, helping you off the bike and unstrapping your helmet. he helps you fix your hair and brushes back a few strands.

you shake your head. “no, i didn’t even know a corgi cafe existed here.”

“good, i was worried you’ve already been here.” he holds his hand out for you to take, in which you did.

you’re swaying on your feet unconsciously, switching gazes from the nervous boy and the sight of a freaking corgi cafe in front of you.

but jungkook notices you.

he hums out, “come on pretty, don’t wanna keep you out too late.”

#yeow6n #ride: jungkook series #ride: to first date #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarios #bts #bts fluff #bts drabble #jungkook drabble series #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook

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number1jeonginstan · 1 year ago

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oky so ik u got an ask from ddyskz about a similar thing but can you do some of the following (seungmin, han, lee know or bang chan) as perv best friends???? idk... its fine if not but i just love your work <3

also can i be /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\ anon?

A/N: Hi hi!! I loved this request, so let me know if you want a part two! I’m so thankful that you are loving my work!!! Ofc you can be /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\ anon!!!

WC:1.2k

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: BestFriend Perv!Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: m!masturbation, pervy Seungmin, that’s basically it!

You and Seungmin had been close friends ever since you both debuted. You had accidentally run into him, head-first behind the music bank stage. You ended up profusely apologizing, feeling so embarrassed and he just laughed, saying it was alright.

From then on, the entire week of promotions, you both were hanging out in secret. It was like a new friendship blossomed between the two of you. You both had similar interests, causing you both to talk a lot more. By the end of the week, you two had exchanged numbers.

As the years went on, you and Seungmin got closer, constantly hanging out with one another in secret. Sometimes it was just getting coffee, other times you were asking each other for advice on your vocals. One thing no one could take away from you was your guys’s Sunday drama watches.

You would either go to Seungmin’s dorm, or he would come to yours and the both of you would binge-watch whatever new drama came out. This month was Daily Dose of Sunshine. You ended up coming over to Seungmin’s dorm seeing as the boys had gone back to their houses for the weekend. Seungmin’s family was out on a trip, so he stayed home. It worked perfectly for you as well because your group's new promotions had finally ended, meaning you could indulge in being lazy for a few days.

You knocked on their dorm door, waiting for Seungmin to open it up. “Open the damn door!” you whined, pounding on it a bit more harshly. He finally did, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only some plaid pajamas. “Put some clothes on you weirdo,” you said, walking to his room, taking off your jacket, and lying down on his bed.

You were dressed in just a tank top and pajama shorts, knowing that you both would be glued to his bed for hours.

“Why are you here?” he groaned, putting on a shirt from his cupboard. “Did you forget?”

“Oh shit, what drama were we supposed to watch this month?” he asked, sitting on the bed, putting your splayed-out legs on his lap. “Nuh uh, it’s a secret” you giggled getting up and taking out your laptop from your bag. “Now please go get some snacks,” you said, pushing him lightly off the bed.

“Okay your highness” he groaned, getting up and taking a good look at you. You were curled up at his headboard, your knees pressed against your chest while your laptop was splayed on his bed, ready to start the next episode. You looked good, too good. No makeup on your face, your hair a bit crazy, but still looking as pretty as ever.

Every time you guys did this, he always had to jerk off after you left. The scent of you in his bed was too overbearing, and you always pressed against him the entire time you guys watched the show, never leaving his side. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.

He came back with a handful of snacks and some drinks, knowing that you would complain about being thirsty and then he would have to get up again and it would cause a whole fiasco. “How much longer Minnie?” you groaned, growing impatient. “Coming, you weirdo”

“I was wondering, what do you want to eat for lunch, my treat,” you grinned at him. While you were gone, you stole one of his hoodies, it was already over-sized on him, but on you, it looked like a dress. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants, you looked so fucking good in his clothes.

“Whatever you want,” he said, getting into his bed next to you. He slipped his legs under the blanket, you following suit. You curled up next to him, starting the show. It was peaceful, three episodes went by like this, your koala bear wrapped around him, your head in his lap while his arms were wrapped around yours.

What you didn’t feel, was his cock slowly getting harder at every movement you made around him. “Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” You got up from his embrace, accidentally falling directly on top of him, your cunt brushing against his clothed cock. You didn’t think much of it, but Seungmin was trying his best to not let out a groan. It was getting to be too much for him.

As you went to the bathroom, he tried re-adjusting his cock in his pants, trying to hide his growing boner from you in fear you would think it was weird. You came back without his sweatshirt, making an excuse that you were getting too hot, and the blanket was enough.

As you got back into the bed, you curled up against him, your chest pressing against the side of his body. He began feeling hot, there was one thing when you were wearing a hoodie while hugging him, but wearing just a tank top was too much. He tried not to shift a lot, barely paying attention to the show playing in front of him.

Before he could say anything, he heard your snores coming from beside him. You began moaning in your sleep and he could no longer take it. He looked over to see your tits spilling out from the shirt you were wearing and gently got up, not wanting to disturb you. He rushed to the bathroom, not knowing how long he had until you woke up and tried taking full advantage of it.

He locked the door, double-checking to make sure you couldn’t come in, and slowly took out his already hardened cock from the confines of his pants. He slowly began stroking it, using the pre-cum the tip of his cock as a lubricant. All he could think about was your tits, and how good they would look with his cum covering them.

How he would fuck you so well while you were wearing his hoodie. He would fuck you anywhere you asked, even in his changing room during promotions if you asked. That made him think back to the outfit you were wearing for your most recent comeback. You pulled off the girl crush clothes perfectly, what he would do to fuck you from behind in that mini skirt you were wearing. When you were learning the new dance for the tiktok you both made, your tits were bouncing perfectly in your top.

He groaned, putting the bottom of his shirt in his mouth, scared that you might hear him. You ended up waking up from your nap, getting up, and knocking on the door to the bathroom, thinking he just got in there. “Minnie, are you okay?” you asked your voice still groggy from your nap, and it made him groan. The way you said his voice was enough to make him cum.

He began stroking his cock faster, needing to feel some sort of a release. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute, I just am feeling kinda hot, I’m trying to cool down.”

“Okay Minnie” you giggled from behind the door, “I’m going to order some food for us!”

You went back to the bed, while he finally found his release thinking about your moans on his bed, cumming all over his stomach. Thank god he didn’t get caught, or did he?

#skz #stray kids #skz smut #straykids x reader #skz x reader #straykids smut #ju <3 answers #seungmin #seungmin skz #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin x reader smut #ju <3 writes #ju's <3 anons

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feelbokkie · 3 months ago

Text

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 15

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS:

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 2,132

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 17

A/N: we're officially at the halfway mark of the series

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

“Okay, one more time for your Instagram. Ready? 1…2…3!”

Click

You pull the camera away from your face and immediately check the image as best you can on the tiny screen. Not long after, you’re surrounded by 10 men, crowding around you, slightly pushing each other so they can see the picture, too. One by one, each of them gives off some sort of hum of approval before breaking away from the group.

“Here, let me just…” You go through the settings in your camera and send the picture via Bluetooth to Minjae’s phone. You also make sure to send a copy to their manager.

You power down your camera before digging your phone out of your pocket. You open up a new contact and hand your phone to their manager. “Can I have your phone number and email? I’ll finish the article in a few hours and email it for approval. Once everything is set, we’ll post the article online.”

The manager nods his head as he takes your phone. You watch the group fondly from the corner of your eye as they dance and cheer excitedly by the infamous Music Bank stairs. You take mental notes of each of their reactions, storing them in a safe place for when you write the article.

“Here you go.” Your eyes snap back to the man in front of you as you take your phone back, double-checking that everything was put in correctly. Satisfied, you save everything and put your phone back into your pocket.

“Perfect,” You say cheerfully. You turn back to the group, some of which are trying to take pictures behind the handrail of the stairs. Minjae quietly gets their attention as he notices you staring. “Congratulations again on your first win! I can’t wait to see more of your achievements in the future. Xikers, fighting!”

A small wave of ‘thank yous’ are hurled your way and you can’t hide the smile that appears on your face. You wave goodbye before turning back to the small table near the green room where you left your coffee. Surprisingly, it’s still there along with other abandoned drinks. You take a moment to set your bag on the table and carefully disassemble your camera, making sure to properly close the caps to avoid anything from happening. You wedge your camera safely next to your laptop.

You close up your bag and finally pick up your coffee before taking a long-awaited sip. It’s watered down now—that much you expected after letting it sit for nearly two hours.

Your eyes scan the room as you sip. You've been backstage since the show wrapped earlier and have yet to catch a glimpse of Changbin. It doesn't help that pretty much every idol that attended the show is still backstage, either filming content with their group members or other idols. You're not even sure you're supposed to still be backstage. Surely, you look suspicious standing off on a corner all by yourself with a "press" badge hanging off your neck. You can't simply say that you're waiting for Changbin. Everyone knows that Stray Kids didn't appear on the show so why would any one of them be there?

"You're not allowed to be here, miss." A high-pitched voice breaks your concentration.

"Oh sorry, I was waiting for someone but...ah," You turn to apologize to whoever is talking to you. You pause mid-sentence when you lock eyes with Changbin. The mischievous smirk you've grown accustomed to twitches on his face as he tries, and fails, to hide it.

"Really, noona? You fell for that?" He lets out a laugh that almost sounds like a cackle, scrunching his nose in the process.

His hair is back to black but wavy again. His skin-tight black shirt is tucked into slightly baggy blue jeans with large pockets that resemble cargo pants. A large winter coat hangs from his left hand, just barely scratching the floor.

"Haha, very funny." You roll your eyes. You suck in the pout threatening to appear on your face and shift your weight onto a different foot. You're also acutely aware that other people in the room can misunderstand what's going on. "What did you want to give me, Changbin-ssi? A hard time?"

Changbin's expression drops, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes dart back and forth, searching your face. "Wait, are you mad? Really?"

"Why? Because I'm talking to you formally? I'm not, I'm just addressing you how I should." You quietly take another sip from your drink, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Well, I don't like it," His bottom lip sticks out so quickly, you're almost certain it's an involuntary movement. Still, it looks like someone kicked a puppy.

"We're in public and someone will misunderstand." You whisper. Still, you stay where you're standing, doing nothing to close the gap between the two of you.

"So? Let people think what they want to think. I'm talking to my friend,"

"You and I know both know very well that's a dangerous thing to do in your line of work." You mutter under your breath, getting tired of the tiny argument. "Anyway, what did you have for me?"

"Oh right," He pats around the pockets of his pants until he finds something small in his back right pocket. "Here, this is very important. You need to guard it with your life."

Changbin grabs your wrist, something you're hoping nobody saw, and pulls your hand closer to him. He turns your hand around, making your palm face up. He carefully places something in your hand and closes your fingers around it before you can even get a chance to see what it is. After he lets go of you, you pull your hand back, eying him cautiously, and slowly open your hand to see what he gave you.

In the center of your hand lays a black thumb drive with what appears to be a white star crudely drawn on it. You tilt your head back up, your eyes continuously glance between Changbin and the thumb drive. "What's this?"

"Our next mini album. I don't know how much is in there so I don't know what I'm allowed to tell you."

You close your fingers around the thumb drive, keeping your grip tight now that you know what's in your hands. "Already? Hop is barely a month old. And you're about to go on tour again."

"It's...it's not coming out until late February, early March. We'll have time to do promotions and then rest before we do the rest of the tour. Chan hyung wanted you to have it now so you could have time to write the review and not stress."

"He could have just emailed it to me. No need to send you to hunt me down."

"He tried. Technology is fickle and he's an old man."

"I'm older than him,"

"Really?" You can't tell by the way Changbin is tilting his head to the side if he's teasing you or being serious.

You shake your head, ignoring him, as you carefully put the thumb drive in your back. You can't help but let out a deep sigh. "Jeez, and you call me a workaholic,"

"What was that, noona?" Changbin leans in a bit to hear you better.

Too close.

You stumble slightly as you back up. You brace yourself to hit the wall behind you only to be stopped suddenly, by a firm grip on your wrist.

"Careful, noona," Changbin warns. His eyes focus on you while yours shift around behind him. Your eyes settle on a group of four trying to work on a dance challenge near the stairs.

"Thank you," You mumble as you shake your wrist out of his.

You know that another reporter is walking around somewhere. There has to be, there's no way you're the only one. And if you are, you know that there are staff members who'll gossip with whomever they can at any given moment. The last thing you want is for Changbin to falsely end up on dispatch.

"So," Changbin clears his throat. "were you planning on eating something or were you going to run on coffee beans all day?"

You tilt your head slightly to the side in confusion until Changbin gestures to your now empty coffee cup. "Oh, I--"

Buzz, buzz

You press your lips together and shoot Changbin an apologetic look as you answer your phone without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm here. They won't let me park in the parking lot but I'm near a loading zone. Are you almost done?"

"Wonnie?" The voice throws you off for a moment. You're not sure who you expected but it wasn't exactly him.

"Yeah? Are you okay? I said I was going to pick you up, remember? If you're done come out. Frankie is insufferable when she's hangry." He says a bit louder.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be out in a moment." You hang up the call and focus your attention back to Changbin who now sports a slight scowl on his face. "Sorry, I already have lunch plans. And then I need to get home and finish this Xikers piece."

"You need to take breaks, noona. Album reviews, award show wins, tour-centered projects? You don't have to be on the go all of the time." His expression softens, a slight twinkle shines in his eye.

"I don't do award show wins. I just begged my boss to let me cover this event because I've been following Xikers since before their debut and I wanted to be the one to cover their first Music Bank win. And I'm not the only one who needs to slow down. This is the 3rd album you've guys done and it hasn't even been six months yet."

You can see Changbin biting his inner cheek, stopping himself from saying something. He nods slowly, almost in agreement. "I didn't intend to argue with you, noona. I'm sorry. I get having the drive to work but I have seven brothers who'll keep me and check and keep an eye out for me if I'm about to crash. Who do you have?"

You can't stop the scoff that escapes your throat fast enough as you cross your arms. You dig your nails into your arms to keep yourself calm. It's bad enough that a quarter of the music industry is in the same room you are, if you get a bad reputation as a reporter, you're done for.

As much as what he said rubs you the wrong way, you force a smile. You know he means well, your relationship has gotten significantly better since the two of you made amends months ago. And as much as you may dislike it, Changbin is a much more straightforward person than he comes off as in videos. He's always willing to deal out the hard truths first and then try to soften the blow after. At the end of the day, you know he means well.

"I'm fine, Changbin, really. If you compare the two, my job is a lot more relaxed than yours."

"Comparison is the thief of joy," He says seriously.

"What are you? A fortune cookie?" You can't help but laugh. A large smile appears on Changbin's face making the crinkles in the corner of his eyes appear. Somehow, his expression reminds you of something.

You dig around for something in your bag before your fingers graze a small envelope holding the two Pokémon cards you got from Wonseok and Wonjae during Christmas. You pull out the envelope and give it a once over before holding it out to Changbin. "Here, I was supposed to give you this back in Hong Kong but things were hectic. See? I'm giving you a gift so you know I'm not mad."

Changbin takes the envelope from you and opens it immediately. His face lights up as he pulls out the cards, and yet, no words come out. This is probably the quietest you've ever seen him.

"They're your favorite right?" You close your bag once more and readjust it on your shoulder.

"Yeah but how did you...?" His voice trails off as he looks at both cards.

"That's what happens when you're good at your job." You tease, winking at him. You check your phone one more time as a text comes in from Wonseok telling you to hurry up. "You don't have to worry about me overworking, Changbin. You should not worry about me being late for this lunch date. I'll see you during the comeback, maybe. If not, I'll see you in Chile."

"...Yeah, bye noona," Changbin whispers more to himself than to you. You nod quietly and make your way to the exit before you get another call from Wonseok.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

TAG LIST (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @lixie-phoria @yongbbokkie @spearb-99

@weird-bookworm @stayconnecteed @brain-empty-only-draken @hanniemylovelyquokka @sunshinessky

@marked-unknown @lanatheawesome @theblindhag @skz-f0rlif3 @f9clementine

@kalopsian-thoughts @ismelllikechlorine247 @hyunjineret @kangaracharacha @slut4colinbridgerton

@reverse-soe @cupidsmoons @jungwonderz @szkstay @tenmii

@stay278 @phtogravi @hannahs-docx @jihanlovic @alnex05

@beccaskz @starlostastronaut @itsseohannbin @kayleefriedchicken @anushasstuff

@jutdwae-archives @dazzlingjade @itzella @divineinsanity @skzjen

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palanshika19970 · 6 months ago

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#laptop bags #diary #jute bag #customized diary #Promotional item #Promotional gifts

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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

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Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P7

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

You left Japan as quickly as you could, you wanted to completely forget about the race.

You'd gone home as there was a pretty large break between Japan and Australia, you spoke to your family about whether they thought getting more of these therapy sessions was a good thing.

Everyone thought it was a good idea, they could tell you'd been struggling for the last few weeks as you looked nervous and pressured during media duties and even though your driving was good, they knew you were made of more you were just scared to push.

So you had started to pay Chris, he made himself available 24/7 to you over text message and you were set to have weekly calls with him. You'd had one before Australia stressing some of you minor concerns about the race.

But all in all, Australia was one of your more confident tracks. You'd spent al lot of time on the sims going round Albert Park, you'd started to test out new racing lines because you were that confident.

When you got to the paddock, entering in a blazer and trousers with a nice pair of stilettos. You always liked dressing up when walking through the paddock for the first time, there was a certain level of power you felt when you did. You had a lot of cameras on you, as you walked through with Chris, who agreed to come to this race weekend with you and your PR manager.

You saw some fans waving you over so you hastily walked over to them.

"Y/N! Y/N!" they cry making you smile and start to take pens and caps and your mini helmets signing as much as you could while taking pictures with all the phones being offered to you.

A little boy shyly comes up to you, holding a little Audi car all boxed up, one that you promoted.

"I-I don't have a pen! Some-one stole it from me" he sniffles and you squat down to his height seeing the tears in his eyes.

"Can i borrow that please?" you ask a girl whose cap you just signed and she nods politely, squealing a little when you touch her hand as you reach up from your lower position to take it.

You sign the little boy's car for him and he pulls you into a big hug, thanking you. The parents further the thanks before you look at the paddock lanyards round their necks. You take the little boys hand and start to take him with you.

The parents follow behind happily talking to Chris and one of the Audi Mechanics that had seen you signing stuff.

You walk him to where you can buy merch. You get him an Audi Hat, Audi top and you get a little driver's poster. You sign it all there on the desk and hand it to the parents in the bag while placing the hat on his head.

"Thank you" he grins at you, the parents thank you as well before leaving. You leave towards the Audi garage, waving at the few people who you still trusted.

Alex had eventually caught up to you and walked side by side with you.

More people took pictures of the pair of you as you walked down the large and open stretch. Martin Bundle had come up to you both during his media day grid walk asking you both questions that you simultaneously answered questions too.

Eventually, you found yourself getting bored. Your PR team wanted to give you a cool down after the accusations from last week and not force your image back so soon. So they mainly focused on Alex.

You eventually left Audi hospitality where you'd been doing some private work on a laptop. You needed to get some fresh air and go for a walk. There was also only an hour before the F1 Academy Qualifying started and you wanted to be there for that.

You were walking down the strip when you see the two Ferrari boys walking towards you.

"Y/N? Can we talk?" Charles asks and you cross you arms looking down at him. Usually you felt quite small around Charles, not just because of his personality but because he was naturally taller than you. Now you were in these heels he was the one looking up at you, and if he was about to apologize you'd find that kind of funny.

"Depends what you want to talk about!" you admit to him.

"About how I acted about what I said!" he offers looking down meekly making you scoff.

"Look Charles, the fact that you ignored me all last weekend when I tried to reach out to you and then went as far as to not believe me when I'd be accused of drug use... which is a really serious accusation which was pulled into investigation because of your team and Red Bull... I don't really feel like I owe you a conversation! So no, we cant talk" you say, before walking off and towards the Mclaren garage in hopes of finding Lando.

You walk up to the entrance finding two workers outside who wave at you.

"Hey Y/N!" one of them smiles at you.

"Hey guys, how are you?" you smile at them and they nod talking to you about their stressful day trying to get content for Mclaren. You nod along with them as they rant until Lando comes trotting down the steps.

"Y/N! You wanna go for a track walk?" he asks and you nod, pit walks were always really good. It gave drivers the change to see it up-close and take it in while you walk around it.

"So, Charles text me" Lando starts as you both walk out of the pit lane and onto the track.

"Mmmm" you mumble quietly not really meeting his eyes.

"Said you weren't ready to talk to him?" he almost asks as if he's seeing if you thought you made the right call in not talking to him.

"All last week i tried to talk to him, tried to be his friend but tell me why he ignores me and pushes me away at every opportunity he gets. You don't do that, not when he spent the whole time between Japan and South Korea with me" you admit, rubbing your hands together.

"Maybe if you let him explain?" Lando suggest with a shrug.

"You meddling little bitch" you say lightly making his shoulder.

"Hey, hey! Ease up or i'll report you for trying to sabotage another team!" he jokes rubbing his shoulder a little.

"Seriously though, I agreed to this walk to talk with you, not talk about Charles, it's not just the fact he ignored me anyway" you sigh holding a hand up to block the lowering sun.

"Anyway, how are you feeling about the race?" you ask trying to steer the conversation away.

"Yeah pretty good, this year could be our year!" he smiles looking over at you.

Australia went alright, considering you not only had a lot on your mind but had car troubles you managed to finish P10, in the points Alex just above you in P8.

Team debrief was longer. talking about the car troubles you experienced before you were let go.

You met with Daniel, both he and Oscar wanted to take you out for food where they were both in their home country. Of course this meant you guys picked up Lando as a default. You guys went out for a meal, everyone online was excited to see the four of you out together.

Next weekend up was Jeddah, you performed really well there, your team thought it was time to use you for media again as much as Alex, and you ended up coming P4, Carlos just ahead of you taking that podium alone with Lando and Max.

After that came your most feared circuit... Spa. It was sort of a meme, when you were working your way up through feeder series and driving in other motorsport championships before you came to F1 that you never finished a race in Spa, there was either car problems or it rained and strategy was awful and you'd crash out or you would just have a problem driving.

You were hopeful to end that streak, the Curse of Y/N in SPA.

And it looked like that throughout all the free practices you completed and coming in P3, having set the fastest lap in Q1 on top of that.

You were nervous, but everyone was telling you that it looked like clear skies for the whole day and that it should be fine.

"Y/N?" a voice said behind you as you were about to hop into your car. You turn round spotting Charles there looking at you.

"Oh, Charles! You okay?" you ask looking over him.

"I know you struggle here, but I just wanted to say that I believe in you and what you can achieve today" he says in a small voice. The words, they were just words but it was the way he said them that you could tell that there was a different meaning behind them. And you appreciated it.

So you went into the car with a clear head.

"Radio check Y/N?" your engineer asks.

"Loud and clear, lets make this a good one" you reply before heading out for the formation lap. You do it and everything feels normal with the car.

You then wait for the lights out, you get an incredible start managing to go between Carlos Lando.

"OH WOAH, INCREDIBLE RACING FROM Y/N. She's managed to go between the Mclaren and Ferrari and SHE'S IN P1 Y/N Y/L/N LEADS THE BELGIAN GRAND PRIX" Crofty exclaims as he watched you on the screen in the commentators box.

You lead for the next few laps defending exceptionally from both Lando and Sainz who had managed to keep pretty close to you. After that it was a complete shit show. You had a really long pitstop, it was around 15 seconds and you were asking your engineer what was going on but they just said they were looking into it. It sent you down from P1 all the way to P18.

"Fuck sake!" you complain.

"I'm sorry for that Y/N, but lets pick up the pace and try get back up there" you have a spectacular drive. Your car was a rocket ship and you managed to get all the way back up to P4 and was about to overtake Leclerc when the rain report came through.

2 laps later and it was really raining, you'd pitted after a safety car was deployed changing tires and you managed to get the overtake on Leclerc. Into P3.

The rain only got heavier and that was when the race went tits up. The rain somehow interfered with your radio and it was only static you were receiving.

For the next laps you were relying on the pit board.

"What an interesting race this has been. Y/N has driven phenomenally and this is to date with out a doubt her best race in Spa, even through all the bad luck she's managed to pull through and she is currently in P1, defending her ass off from Lando and Lewis who are close behind her. This is just immense racing here today. She really came here with the mindset of a winner!" he explains looking at your on-board.

"Yeah, i mean she'd been without radio communications for 20 laps of this race, and the rains fading now, most crews are preparing to pit and make a final tyre change but its seems like nothing has been communicated to her"

As the track started to dry up you loose grip on the tyres more and more. There was no communication from your team and you were debating what to do. If you eased up now, you'd let Lando, Lewis and Carlos all past and risk your first win.

The last peice of communication you saw going past the pits was that you were leading and there was only 3 laps to go.

Lando was very close behind you, constantly in your wing mirror. He had tried some moves in an attempt to overtake but you'd kept defending like your life depended on it.

You go round one corner at the same speed you had been for the whole wet part of the race not realizing how quickly this corner had dried out. You attempt to break a little quicker, Lando doesn't antisipate and rear ends the back of your car, flipping you over.

"OH MY LORD THAT A MASSIVE CRASH FOR Y/N DOWN ON TURN 6. She broke early being on those intermediates where the tracks starting to dry out and Lando hasn't reacted quick enough. In the process he's busted his front wing!"

Lando Radio: Is she okay? I didn't mean that! I was it bad i went past to quickly to see where she went

Engineer: Red flag Lando, Red Flag

Lando Radio: Please tell me she's okay?

Lewis Radio: Holy shit, is she okay man. Why is she still on the inter's?

Engineer: Lewis that a Red Flag

Lewis Radio: This was a bad one.

And it was, you flipped multiple times before your car slammed into the barrier. You felt like an elephant was sitting on your chest right now and your head was dizzy.

"That's a really bad crash, and we don't even know if she's alright because the radio isn't working, the look of all the audi workers right now is really a sight to see" he says panning to all your colleagues with jaw's dropped and hands covering there mouths as their eyes water.

Some of them are actually crying, as no-body could detect movement and the car was barely visible from the damage caused.

You tried to keep your mind open with the adrenaline, but slowly your vision blacks out.

A/N: Oop i feel like this is my first proper cliff hanger!

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